lifelong knitter

What I Learned

A bouncing Boy bird greeted me at the door when I went to his Nest to pick him up. He RAN to the Mommymobile, chanting the name of his MALL, lest I forget and take him someplace BORING (like a yarn store, teehee)to do his holiday shopping. It was already starting to rain fairly steadily, and downpours with patchy fog had been predicted. I turned on the radio and he insisted on the all Christmas music all the time station....sigh. I sang along with Bing and Elvis and of COURSE, The Chipmunks as we made our way to the Interstate. It was crawling along, but moving at least. This stretch of road is Notorious (right maggi?) for accidents. A little weather of any kind and it is usually a Parking Lot. Not quite the Long Island Expressway, but close. Sure enough, a couple of Really Awful Accidents...the kind where you say a prayer that people SURVIVED. Eeeeek.
After an hour an a half of traffic, we finally arrived at the Mall. The parking lots were Full, and I dreaded the slog through the deepening puddles. Boy bird's parking karma kicked in and we got a spot right in front. I mean Right In Front. 20 feet from the Entrance B. We have to go in Entrance B. It is part of the routine. Boy bird jumps out of the truck and points. *Entrance BEEEEE* he shouts. He is grinning happily. I ask him if he has his money. *POCKET* he says, patting it.
He holds the door open for me (such a good boy, kvell) and we go through the narrow hallway and
THEN...he stops as we get to the part where the narrow space opens up onto a four story extravaganza of MALL. *BEAUTIFUL* he says. There are these ginormous BELLS that hang down from the roof (one year we got there really early on the morning they were hanging them up with the CRANE. It was Amazing.) and garlands a mile long. Huge trees are decorated in the central atrium, surrounded by glass elevators and criss crossing escalators. I myself prefer the smell of a Pine Grove and some rel snow, but hey, this is HIS trip!
A huge security guard approaches us and breaks into a grin. "Hey, Buddy" he booms "Merry Christmas! You been good?" *GOOD* says the boy, and they shake hands.
We make the rounds. We see the cookie lady and her helpers...and of course get warm from the oven chocolate chip cookies. They ask him about his house, his job, how he IS....*HAPPY* says he. The information ladies, the gift wrapping volunteers, the regulars at the Food Court.
We pass the long line to see Santa. You get a pager and go shopping and they buzz you when you only have five minutes to wait. Santa waves. We wave back. The elves who are taking the fearful toddlers picture wave, too.
We're only on the first floor.
We ride the escalators up and around to visit all of our *friends*. He looks in the store windows, deciding where (not) to spend his ten dollars.
We have a lovely dinner at Chik-fil-a (complete with Waffle Fries for him and a lemonade for me) cruise the Video Arcade, and head back down the escalators. I try to prompt him to pick out his gifts as it is getting dark and raining harder. He is on a mission, apparently, and I am clueless.
We have circumnavigated the entire Mall and he doesn't have a single purchase. I am starting to be VERY curious about his strategy. Is he hoping for a second trip?
At the last minute before the exit, he starts running. I have to really hustle to keep up with him, and say a little prayer of Thanksgiving that we KNOW the security folks here. He rounds the corner and scoots out a side door. I am right behind him. He steps out onto the slick sidewalk and into the pouring rain. He lunges into an overhang and takes out his money. Puts it into the bucket and extends his hand. The Salvation Army guy gives him the BELL, which he happily rings for a full minute. *Merry Christmas!* he yells at the passersby...
He gives the bell back and is ready to leave.
We buckle up, and pull out into the driving rain.
What do YOU think I learned?

Equal Time

This afternoon is the annual trip to the Mall with the Boy bird to do his Christmas shopping.
While I absolutely cringe at the idea of the MALL,
and think it has nothing whatever to do with the Spirit of the Holidays,
I always learn something profound
when I see it through his eyes.
Someone asked me how it was possible not to play favorites
or love one more than the other when you have
more than one child...
Do I love them differently?
I believe,
quite simply, that
your heart expands
in direct proportion to the
number of people you allow in.
LOVE is exponential.

Grace

I am SO amazed. I always hope that other people will see past the labels and the *mannerisms* and see my children as PEOPLE, first. I am extremely biased, as their Mother, and overly protective, but I honestly LIKE them as people. I LOVE them because they are my children, but choosing to spend time with people you are related to but don't necessarily LIKE is an obligation most of us don't carry off too gracefully.

Most of my children's birthdays have been just us. Early on, people just didn't RSVP, or never showed up, or whatever....and eventually I realized it bothered ME much more than the children. It was MY hangup about being the Cupcake Mom and having lots of kids all around....my birds really prefer one or two people at a time in most cases.

I expected to come down to the college and have cake and pizza wih my Daughter, watch her exclaim over the gifts, and start READING her books. I thought maybe some of the girls from her dorm would stop by for pizza and cake and drift away...

She skipped out to the truck and helped me unload the cake and the pizza and the presents. We set things up in the dorm common room and talked about her Final exams and I started to open the pizza boxes. *Wait, Mom. My Friends are coming in a little bit. The pizza will get cold if you open it NOW.* I said a little prayer that this would not be another year of pizza getting cold while waiting for people to (not really) show up.

One by one, girls came through the common room and greeted my Daughter. They said they were going to drop off their books, or put in a load of laundry, but they'd be right back....

and THEN.

A GROUP of girls, with a balloon and a scarf, singing Happy Birthday. They wanted me to take pictures of them all together, and squished in tight to giggle and ask her how her day had been. They all talked with her about exams and how they wished THEY had made a perfect grade on that Math Exam, and it was clear that they are all engaged with her on a daily basis.

I left them to their party, and went back to the hotel to knit a little bit. After an hour or so, I went back to help her clean up the common room and check with the Dorm Supervisor about when the dorms were closing after Finals.

Six girls were still there with her, curled up on the couches, pulled closely up to the television, playing the DVD game (Spongebob of COURSE) that the Boy bird had picked out for her birthday. Laughing and obviously Winning the trivia part of the game, Daughter was right there in the middle.

I asked if there was anything else she needed, could I help clean up or anything....nope, they had already taken care of it! I kissed her goodbye and wished her a very Happy Birthday.

*Thanks, Mom. This was the Best Birthday EVER! Love you!*

Yes, indeedy.

Amazing Grace.

The Big Day

The calendar reminds me that it is the day that will live in Infamy, but for me, it is my First Born's birthday.
Yesterday she called me TWICE on the cell phone.
First call was a breathless one...
*Mom?*
Hey, sweetheart! Are you excited about your birthday tomorrow?
*Um, yes, but guess WHAT?!*
I give up, what?
*You didn't guess. I got an A on that paper I've been so worried about and I owe it all to YOU!*
YOU wrote the paper honey, what do you owe to me?
*I wrote the paper, but you BELIEVED in me.*
(Give me a moment, here, it still stuns me that this child is the one who would NEVER have functional language...)
Later in the day,
another phone call, wondering what time the PARTY was going to be...
*Guess what ELSE?*
I don't know, what else?
*Mo-om, you aren't guessing! I got 20 out of 20 on the Big Math test! Isn't that great?*
That is GREAT! I'm really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow...
*Tomorrow? Aren't you driving here now?*
Well, no, I lost track of time while I was TALKING with somebody and
*Well, you should wear a WATCH or something!*
Yes, I know, but I'm not as good at keeping to a schedule as you and your brother...
*cuz you aren't autistic, but that's okay, I'm going to a Christmas party and now I don't have to worry that I am hurting your feelings by not inviting you because you aren't a student!*
See? Things always work out for a REASON, don't they? Love you, see you tomorrow
*Love you too! You won't forget my presents, will you? The books I asked for?*
No, I won't forget your presents....bye.
*BYE!*

sigh. If you are so inclined, say an extra prayer that I won't forget something. Tee-hee. cuz I'm not autistic.

AND. Light that first candle. Lord knows, we need some LIGHT.
I personally KNOW that the Darkness can't put it out...
My Daughter tells me that's Faith.
She's Perfectly Right.

Rainy days and Mondays

Used to get me down, before I started a practice of
Counting my BLESSINGS.
I was in Target yesterday, looking for Spongebob paper plates
for the pizza party tomorrow...
when I heard a woman behind me
marvelling at all of the CHOICES.
"Only in this country", she said,
with a rather thick accent.
"My parents, in the old country, only had milk if there
was enough to feed the cow.
Here we have nonfat, two percent, lowfat, certified organic..."
She went on reading all of the kinds of Milk and then stopped,
suddenly, realizing I was listening.
She took my hand in hers and said
*Happy Holidays, Liebchen.*
and winked.
O.M.G.
My Father's nickname for me...
I started to call out to her, ask her something,
but she was gone in the sea of shoppers.
One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three....
Blessings.
As Always,
Happiest of Holidays to you and yours!

The Other end of the Spectrum

I heart my (new) Honda dealer.
Honestly, talk about SERVICE!
They cheerfully squeeze me in on a Friday afternoon, do the required service (and NOTHING ELSE, thankyouverymuch...) offer to wash and detail it for me IF I WANT (Oh yes, please!) bring me coffee and donuts in an immaculately clean waiting room...
sigh.
If perchance the Mommymobile should require more than 45 minutes worth of attention, they have a free round trip shuttle to the Mall. The Mall with an APPLE store and a huge bookstore and several Very Fine eating establishments...
I'm digressing.
This is my new Honda dealer because of the horrible plane crash involving the Hendrick family,
my previous Honda home.
I just can't go back.
When the new hybrid CR-V comes out
I'm first in line,
and I know I'll be treated with care and concern and
not overcharged.
If you'll excuse me, I have to write a letter to CBS
(see Rachael's post)
do a little holiday decorating
(Inspired by Ann)
and shop for the Daughter bird's birthday.
I love the fact that she'll be 22 on the first day of Chanukah,
and that she wants to spend it with me.
I am grateful for the many abundant Blessings in my life,
moment by moment,
bird by bird.

Almost...

over it.
Claudia has a good point (as Claudia always DOES!) asking whether Sandy is over it. I want to think she is. She shook it off (so to speak) but since I will never ever darken the door of that (or any other)Salon again, I guess I won't really know what her reaction to the experience encompasses.
so. The short (several weeks later, mostly calmed down) version:
I dropped her off at 9AM with the usual groomer, who is Fabulous and adores my little Princess.
She looked odd to me, and I thought briefly about cancelling the appointment...but I rationalized.
It is silly to feel that way about a poodle having a haircut.
Only a haircut. I couldn't convince myself.
I called at noon, to be sure she was *finished* before I zoomed over to pick her up...
no answer.
I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I rationalized.
I should never do that.
When I have a horrible feeling,
I should act on it IMMEDIATELY,
even if this means having to explain to the nice policeman later
why, exactly, I was breaking into a pet grooming salon on my lunch hour.
I tried to convince myself that people with Normal Syndrome do NOT
overreact when nobody picks up the phone at the pet grooming salon.
So, I drove over to the salon and the door was locked with a note in
Very Shaky handwriting
about being Right Back.
Later, I found out that she never came back
and that the owner arrived five minutes after I had been there, so the
Princess was only *ALONE* for about 20 minutes.
I also found out WHY she never came back and I am still praying
that she is okay. Thinking that suicide is the only way out of an abusive
situation requires prayer...you know?
So, the owner tried to do what she thought was right,
protect her employee's privacy, groom the doggies herself.....
and called me to say Sandy wouldn't be ready until 3pm.
I called at 3pm, still not ready.
To make a long story short, at 6pm I paid DOUBLE,
cash money, to take my poodle home.
Unfinished.
O.M.G.
Shaved except for her fluffy little head
because she tried to BITE the owner
who was TRYING to groom her.
I wrapped her in a towel and
cried all the way to the drive through
where the biscuit ladies made her a sausage egg and cheese
with a side of bacon.
She hadn't EATEN all day, either.
So, my first instinct is to learn to groom the poodle myself.
It's only a Haircut, right?
What dy'all think?

Fuzzy

Ever have one of those mornings when you are awakened way too suddenly and you can't remember anything? SandyPoodle BOUNCED me out of a perfectly good dream, which of course was completely forgotten when I saw the blurry numbers on the clock....oh NO!

I hate to be LATE. I'm late, right? GAH!

Then I had to think really hard. What DAY is this? Where am I supposed to be? Who am I, really? (Obviously the first sign of Sleep Deprived, Caffeine addicted Dementia....induced, no doubt by knitting way too late with HGTV Holiday specials in the background. Very Bad Idea. I briefly thought about making my own pinecones out of forty two million small pieces of triangular ribbon, pinned to styrofoam ovoids...didn't you?)

Play forty-seven games of throw the little pink ball for the Poodle, while trying to find my Glasses and the coffee mug. (In that order, people. I have learned the hard way to Always Locate my Glasses FIRST. Drinking coffee out of a mug that might have been used for an HGTV project or an oil painting emergency can be Fatal. Really. Cadmium aint good for ya.)

Brain kicks in and suggests that the Computer will know what day and time it is AND prolly have a copy of a schedule or something sensible. Drink more coffee, turn on computer, continue to throw the ball for the Poodle...

OH.

See? I have MAIL. From people who LOVE me just the way I am, fuzzy and anxious, surrounded by too much yarn and a manic poodle.

So? You might be wondering, where was I supposed to be?

Right here. Right now.

Breathing Deeply and Drinking Coffee from my *Don't let the TURKEYS get you down* mug.

Not so much bravery, as faith, indeed.

Oh, and um, it's Thursday, right?

That means I get to see the Boy bird this afternoon for bagels and a bookstore run.

All that other stuff on the Sensible Schedule? I'm on it.

Just in case you are wondering WHY in the world there have not been any adorable Poodle Princess Pictures lately, I'm ALMOST over the Groomer trauma. Almost. Not enough to talk about it, but maybe tomorrow, K?

December dreams

It was a dark and windy morning, rather wintry temperature wise,
but I promised y'all PICTURES....
so I set out to find some appropriate models...

tee hee. The Crete Sheep. Love these sculptures, they just make me SMILE.

The little one looks a little chilly...here baby sheep, how about a shawl....

Does the lovely color change come through your monitor?
To me it looks JUST exactly like the ocean off the Carolina coast in late summer....
sigh.

My fingers are freeezing.

mwah!