Monday, November 30, 2009

Extensive Extendings and My Mom makes her Blog Debut

I'm extending ordering for custom orders until Dec. 11th! I finished up everything I was working up much faster than I had anticipated soooo.....

My biggest order yet was made last month by Susan, who happens to be the best employer ever (which might be a total stretch of the imagination, considering she's not actually my boss so I have no idea if she's nice to work for or not). She wanted 20 scarfs for her employees and handmade gifts are so kick ass (in my humble opinion). Here are some photos of her finished order. There are 17 smaller 'short' scarfs, which I consider 'one tie' scarfs and three much larger and wider 'two tie' scarfs.

Here are all the different colors:

Here are some close ups:

If you are unfamiliar with what is available for custom orders, here are some links to previous blog posts with orders and examples:

Baby hats, city caps, headbands

Bear hats and mittens, cotton headband

More scarfs, hypoallergenic sets

Hats and fingerless gloves

Peter Pan hat, scarfs and generally awesome stuff

Past custom orders and more examples

You can also visit my store or contact me at my email address You can make orders through email or ask as many questions as you want and I will promptly get back to you with pricing and an easy to pay invoice.

I am also offering carriage/crib size baby blankets for $50, in pretty much whatever color you want. These would be great shower/new baby gifts!

Also I'm currently including adorable ultra-cute crochet gift cards to attach to your purchases.

I have some Thanksgiving photos to share...
I am always tempted to post embarrassing photos of my loved ones online. I have no idea why this is and it's been Jeremiah who's usually taken the brunt of this odd impulse. But today I will regale you with a lovely photo of me and my momma...and she has her eyes closed. Which, for some strange reason, is embarrassing.

Here are more, with ours eyes open. I've noticed that most of the photos taken on Thanksgiving (and at all other times) are of Maxine Jane. Soon everyone that reads this blog is going to naturally assume I made up the other three children and that Max is actually my only child. And then many of you will call the authorities because I'm obviously delusional.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Thankful I'm Here to Clean Up Your Puke

I’m a pretty sappy person by nature, so I could easily tell you all about how thankful I am that all of my kids are healthy, that my parents are so awesome and that Jeremiah is a super good kisser.

But in reality, there are some things I’m more thankful for than others…

I’m thankful that I don’t have humungous Triple E sized knockers, like one of those freak eggs on legs. If you are of this body type I’m just kidding…I don’t think you’re a freak. I’m just glad I’m not you.

I’m thankful that I don’t have to go to work everyday. Mainly because I enjoy spending time at home with my children but otherwise for this reason: I don’t have to deal with all the ridiculous assholes out there in the world. And more importantly, I don’t have to shower all that often.

I’m thankful that Jeremiah doesn’t like country music. This one is self explanatory.

I’m thankful that my neighbors are just pot dealers and not heroine dealers. There’s a whole bunch of shady types over there, but at least they’re middle age hippy shady types and not 19 year old kill their own mother for a hit shady types.

I’m thankful that my parents taught me how to swear. Fuck yah mom! This blog post is the shit daddy!

I’m thankful I had the judiciousness of mind to become a vegetarian. When Jesus comes back here and is totally pissed at all you bogus carnivores, my vegetable eating ass is going to be seated at the right hand and you’ll be working in a purgatorial meat packaging plant for all of eternity. :)

I’m thankful for my selective memory. I can remember all the fun times, hanging out with the coolest people, doing exciting things…but I can’t remember all the horribly embarrassing moments. Like the time I wrote a poem about Eddie Vedder giving me chills on UnPlugged and my baby brother gave it to my mom and she read it to all my aunts. Or the time that I supposedly farted all night in the same room that Jeremiah stayed up playing guitar in. He claims it was very stinky and also hilarious. I don’t remember that.

But most of all I’m thankful for Maxine Jane. I awoke in the dead of night to find her, once again, inches away, waking me from my sweet repose. She was gazing most intently at me, not saying a word. I thought the night was going to go the way of so many others, except this time she burped right in my face. As I started to protest loudly she vomited, right onto the space usually occupied by Jeremiah. Then she laughed a tiny gleeful giggle, ran back to her room and jumped into her clean, unvomited bed. I went in and asked her if she was ok, if her stomach was upset. She told me she felt ‘much better now’ and snuggled down in the warm covers to slumber away while I trudged unhappily off to clean up the vomitus mess she had made of my sleeping area.

I’m so thankful that I’m here to clean up your puke Max. I’m even more thankful that I have you to puke on me.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone (but not you, bottom basement stair who made me fall flat on my ass this morning)!

Monday, November 23, 2009

The Winner of Everything...

I'm working (email with your order soon to get it by christmas!) and writing a lot lately, not that I'm sharing any of that writing with you. It's mostly all baby book/journal writing (yes, I'm one of those douchbags that write in their kids' baby books ALL THE TIME). Last night while I was crocheting an order I had this vision of Max sleeping with a puppy. Isn't that weird? I mean, I don't see wasn't a psychotic break or anything...just this vision of her cuddling in her bed with this little shaggy puppy.

Ok, elsewhere in our fair Metropolis, The Interwebs, I was linked in lots of new places. Well, three new places. That seems like a lot, eh?

Libby, who has newlys taken Steamy's place (Win me back, Becky.) as my favorite blogger put up photos of her darling baby Meg in one of my hats AND sent me a cute beyond words photo thank you for said hat. She is the winner of everything, if there was to be anything to won.

Alyson bought hats and headbands and posted photos of herself and her daughter looking adorable. Let's go find them, beat them up and steal their head gears. Or we could just order some head gear from me...either way I'm good with it.

And Becky put me on her side bar. We also will become real life friends over Christmas and then tell you all about it! yay! Unless she ditches me. And then I will cry tears of acid that will put holes in whichever shirt I am wearing at the time, not to mention burn my perfect skin.

I hope that all is well in your lives, I hope you're all looking forward to spending Thanksgiving with your loved ones (or alone at a chinese buffet, which is what I would be doing if I were single/childless). I'll be posting 'Thankful I'm here to Clean up your Puke' on Thursday.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

these words

An auburn sky past dusk
tall tree bare and stark rise high

above houses, lights on for safety, lights off for slumber
cozy homes lined with streets of empty still cars

slight mists fall onto my face
a chill breeze brushes past me, landing nowhere

Before this what came before there were
more abodes built upon soft grounds
lay trodden by many years of many feet

this mountain so much the same but not mine
nonetheless we have made it our home.

These words were in my head during my evening walk. Taking account of my surroundings they swept in and through me like the fresh fall air. I am by myself, which is a rarity. Alone with my thoughts and just...these words.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Do you Understand the Words that are Coming Out Of My Mouth??

Words I love come out of my childrens’ mouths. Words that make me cringe are formed on their delicate tongues. Words that surprise and amaze me flow from the box that works overtime in their shallow chests.

“Mommma. Look at my boobies!”

Maxine hoists up two balls she has stuffed into her shirt. She looks so ludicrous I can’t help but laugh. This eggs her on.

“MOOMMMAMAMA…I have big boobies.”

I finally scrape the amusement off of my face.

“Maxine. When you’re a little older your chest will be your private area, for you only. So it’s not really funny to talk about having boobies.”

Rose yells from the next room:

“PLUS MAX! Mom has big boobs and she’s constantly complaining how much they make her back hurt!”


Max is upstairs getting her Pjs on. Elijah and I are downstairs on the front room’s couch and I’m helping him get into his Pjs.

I hear Max grunting and struggling upstairs: “What the….what the…hey…why….”

“Maxine Baby. Do you need help?”

“I think so.”

“OK, just bring your stuff down here and I’ll help you.”

“Wait, I think I’ve got it. I just have to get this leg right side in and this arm out of the leg that’s upside right.” She’s talking to herself in hushed and thoughtful tones.

I stifle my laughter and continue dressing Elijah. Max hops down the stairs a few moments later.

“See Momma? That was just like eating cake.”


Olivia has had a strange shift lately from emotionally inept crater to queen of over sensitivity.
Jeremiah’s grandmum passed away on a weekend and the girls’ dad was nice enough to keep them for Monday night, Tuesday and Wednesday. When they got back I explained to Max and Olivia why they had stayed with their dad. Olivia looks at me confused , her mouth full of questions of what I assume to be morbid in nature. Instead her eyes well up in tears.

“Olive, maybe it would be nice to give Jeremiah a hug.”

She runs out of the room and into Jeremiah’s arms. She breaks down and sobs....loudly.

“It’s just sooooo sad. Is she really dead?” and on and on like that. When she finally calms down and then whole minutes later her usual self flickers brightly across her freckled and dimpled face.

“Did you get to see her body?”


Rose and I were discussing where we were going for Thanksgiving this year while in our kitchen. She was watching me do the dinner dishes and asking a million questions.

“Well Mom. If daddy isn’t picking us up till bedtime where are we going to eat Thanksgiving dinner?”

“Well Rose. Either we’ll have it here at our house and grandma, pappy and your aunts and uncles will come here or grandma will have it at her house and we’ll all go up there.”

“Oh. Well Mom. You’re a really good cook and everything….but I definitely think Grandma should cook.”

“Oh. Well Rose. I’ll take that into consideration.”

She slinks out of the kitchen into the dining room and I overhear her frantically whispering to Olivia.

“Liv…you have to go in there and tell momma that we should go to grandma’s for Thanksgiving dinner. You know mom won’t use butter and she probably won’t even cook a TURKEY cause Liv…liv are you even listening??! Liv. Turkey is meat!…just tell momma that you miss grandma and want to go to her house for Thanksgiving.”

Olivia runs into the kitchen.

“Mom! Rosey says you’re not going to let us go to grandma’s house for Thanksgiving AND that you’re not making a turkey!”

Rose yells from the dining room: “LIV!”

Liv runs back into the dining room before I can counter her claims. She and Rose saunter back into the kitchen a few moments later, in serious gang formation with the scowls to accompany their obviously intent nature.

Rose speaks first, Intervention style:
“If you don’t make turkey for dinner on Thanksgiving Olivia and I are going to be very upset. We understand that you like not eating turkey, but we like turkey.”

This from the children whose vegetarian mother made them hot wings for dinner.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Truly, Madly, Guiltily

Jeremiah kisses me goodbye every morning before he leaves for work. If he doesn't, I panic. I assume he's horribly mad at me and that he's definitely not coming home. The problem with this is that he's only been that mad at me a few times in our relationship...and he always came home.

I must be crazy.

Regardless of all that, the first thing I see in the morning when I wake up is Jeremiah's face right in front of me. Sometimes in my sleepy haze I cry when he has to leave, or I whine whine whine. I grunt 'Nooonnoonooo...' and he patiently pries my fingers off of him, kisses me and leaves.

Every time I look at his face, or make him smile and every single time we make love I am reminded of how much I adore him and how glad I am to have him. This is probably as annoying to him as the whining, gripping, half asleep banshee he has to snog every morning.

But all this brings me to my general point. I love him more than anything in the whole entire world. There. I said it. Skewer me now.

Ayelet Waldman wrote this article for The New York Times and was practically burnt at the stake for it. I remember when she was being talked about all over talk radio/television and especially on The View. She was being attacked mostly by Starr Jones...who, last time I checked didn't have any children OR a successful relationship. ANNNNDDDD now I'm attacking her. Wow. It's a viscious cycle.

The last two paragraphs speak to me more than the rest. They speak to me because of my past, of not loving my daughters' father like I 'should' have, of feeling guilty for loving Jeremiah that much more everyday.

I think of the way Jeremiah's left eye dips slightly lower than his right. I think of the scar on his back, the one he can't see. I think of the space of skin between his shoulder blades that pinches when he's stretching. I think of the way he looked at me the first time we kissed after not seeing each other for years and years:
I felt a growing ball in my chest as I got up from the table, from where I had been sitting across from him in a dark pub. I smiled, giggled, leaned over as I was walking past our table, stepping down off of the bench ledge. I leaned my face into his and I could feel the warmth explode in front of us, circling and exploding in tight spirals.
After we kissed I went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My face was bubblegum pink, my eyes glossy and shiny, I felt thinner, I felt...joyful.

And if my children resent having been moons rather than the sun? If they berate me for not having loved them enough? If they call me a bad mother?

I will tell them that I wish for them a love like I have for their father. I will tell them that they are my children, and they deserve both to love and be loved like that. I will tell them to settle for nothing less than what they saw when they looked at me, looking at him.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Not a Puking Post.

I was going to write about Max puking on me the other night (she's not sick at all, just a random puking)...but custom orders have kept me busy.

Instead I'll post photos and some new dates so anybody planning on ordering for Christmas will have the heads up. Not as funny as randomly puking Maxines, but just as cute?!

Baby bear hats:

Cotton/Linen earwarmers/headbands. I was shocked at the quality of this organic yarn. Would be great for running and can be made any width:

A reminder to everyone planning on ordering custom items for Christmas. I must have your orders by Friday December 4th to insure I can make it and get it to you in time.


Also, keep in mind that I can make most orders from many different types of yarn, but if you have had problems with wool in the past please tell me and I'll make your order out of an acrylic yarn.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

In Memoriam and Things I Have Learned This Week.

Jeremiah's maternal grandmother passed away this weekend and we spent most of this week with his family in a neighboring town commemorating her life.

She was a wonderful lady and will be missed by all who know her.

There were some good things and sad things about this week and weekend and here is what I have learned from this experience.

Jeremiah's momma kicks ass. I'm glad to have her in my life and glad she's here for my daughters and for Elijah.

My dad has a lot of ties.

There are numerous ways to tie ties, all difficult.

Panty hose and tights are surely of the devil's making. Burn them all now. If no one else wears them, then I won't have to either.

Being in a funeral procession is dangerous and not for the weak of heart.

There are not many vegetarian choices at restaurants. Also if you eat fish, you obviously have to eat it overcooked, covered in butter and bread crumbs AND oddly enough, orange juice.

Jeremiah will never recieve a satisfactory hair cut EVER in his lifetime. He will also swear heavily every time he gets one.

He's also incredibly handsome and I'm constantly overcome with the urge to kiss him. Right now he's upstairs in the bathroom and out of my reach...luckily for him cause I have some super noxious coffee/morning breath right now.

It's not appropriate to take photos at funerals/viewings so in order to get some photos of you, your son and your partner all gussied up, you have to take photos in the car. Or at the reception after the burial mass.

Also, my camera insists on whiting out my face, regardless of what setting I have it on.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Daddy's Girl.

Becky at Steam Me Up Kid just did a three part thingy where she posted sections of a journal from what I'm guessing was the early 90's. (There was an awesome Club MTV reference. I love Becky).

And Miss. Chief posted her journals from a three month trip to Mexico....

So with butterflies in my stomach, I dragged out my 'memory boxes' from storage to find the scribblings from my youth. While I did find some horribly and intensely embarrassing missives written by yours truly and tons upon tons of carefully folded notes from random people I barely remember, I found some hidden gems stashed in the trashy masses.

SOOOOO even though I promised you would get to read some crap I wrote when I was 13 and obsessed with boys and hated my parents, instead I will regale you with my dad's genius.

I vaguely remember both of these notes. At least, I can remember them enough to know that they came from two separate occasions....I guess I didn't take them to school, even though they were originally intended for the attendance office. I imagine a cranky and tired little me finding these notes on the kitchen table as I was gathering my stuff together to go to the bus stop.

To the Powers that be,

Upon comfortable arising at approximately noontime one recent day (I certainly shan't be bothered to remember which particular day), I vaguely noticed through audible and visual clues that one of my numerous progeny had deigned to take it upon itself to remain sequestered within the opulence of my estate, rather then to entertain itself amongst the common, albeit intellectually supercharged atmosphere of your "public school". I garnered from her nearly unintelligible mutterings that she suffered from what was referred to as "pains" and "nauseas". Satisfied as to the insincerity of her claims, I proceeded to ignore her, as is my wont. These incidents having left my mind entirely, I was of course mildly irritated to notice I must pen an "excuse" in defense of this aberrant child's absence. I therefore state without further ado that erin was absent on Tuesday due to allegedly claiming the distress of an alleged stomachache.

don't bother me further,
ps. one law for The Lion and The Ox is oppression. -Blake

To you People,

Please excuse Erin on Feb. 6th and 7th due to the evident presence of vast, macrolopapular lesions or pustulus presenting anterio-cerebrally and excuffulating disgustingly down the anterior end of the posterior torso; judged to be cancerous by Erin. Despite parental pressure to the contrary, Erin remained absent from educational demonstrations. The whole mess cleared by 3:25 pm and was later diagnosed by a friend as being of Alien origin. Relieved, her parents released her to be educated once again this next day. As to the lateness of this note, I am rarely aware of the actual existence of my offspring, let alone the necessity of bothering myself to petition as to their absenteeism.

I therefore beg your pardon,

And then while I was putting the boxes back in storage, this small triangular crumbled note fell from the folds one of the boxes lids:

I love you.
Not competing with your friends as
you and I
have loved one another for many years.
I repeat,
I love you.

And I love you, Daddy.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

By the Pricking Of My Thumbs....

If you go and check out my shop, I'm putting most items up to $10 off. It's insane. I'm just trying to create some movement in my shop, because right now I have a lot of custom orders.

And I love custom orders.

But I also like movement...

Here are some of the sales:

Purple Scarf/Earflap set with Buttons ages 6 to pre-teen This set was $50 and is now $35.

Turtle Neck No Sweaters in GOLD


Beige/Cream Both of these were $25 and are now $15.

A reminder to everyone planning on ordering custom items for Christmas. I must have your orders by December 7th to insure I can make it and get it to you in time.


Tomorrow I will be gracing you with some blasts from my past. This might be hilarious to all of you, but it will definitely be a humbling experience for me . Just like Steamy and miss. Chief I will be sharing some of my scribblings from my youth.
My tragically dramatic youth. And by dramatic I mean drama of my own making.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Leaving on a Jet Plane

Someone once told me that I am ‘clever’ and it was one of the best compliments I’ve ever received in my lifetime.

Some of the other best compliments:

“You are the best pusher I’ve ever seen, Erin. AND you didn’t poop.”

“Your belly skin doesn’t hang down all that much.”

“When she makes that weird scrunched up face, she really looks like you.”

“Your hair used to be so thick and luxurious….at least it will be easier to handle now.”

Because I'm obviously incredibly self-involved I often daydream about what my children will be like when they're grown.

Will Rose always take everything so much to heart? Will she ever learn to chill out a little bit and stop overthinking absolutely everything? Will she teach impoverished gypsy children in Romania? Will she travel the world as a doctor, treating people who otherwise would suffer and perish?

Will Olivia become more responsible as an adult? Will she be one of those people who's parents are always fixing their messes? Or will she be a famous actress/pro-human activist and use her obvious unabashed outgoing nature for good?

Will Maxine blow us all away? Will she be nothing like she is now? Will she stop throwing pieces of toilet paper on the floor for me to pick up and gag the whole time I'm cleaning up after her? Will she be an intense brooding writer, living with her painter boyfriend in a totally awesome and not at all cliche loft in Soho?

Will Elijah be an incredibly rich and talented pro-skater? Will he be the drummer for some awesome indie band? Will he always be so very GIANT?

Or will they all live with us till they're in their 40's and we move out just to get away from them?

Hmmm...that actually seems like a viable option. Jeremiah and I will act like those enabling parents and tell them all they can stay with us as long as they want. Then when they're all nice and cozy we'll take off and travel the world without them.

We'll make love in Crete on a small creaky rowboat off the Isle of Pharos.
We'll visit the coast of Ireland and walk for hours along craggy beaches and cliffs.
We'll sleep side by side enveloped in tiny cot in a run down motel beside the TGV station in Echternach, Luxembourg.

We'll miss them, I'm sure. But we won't ever ever come home.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Grace is Subjective

Today I grace you with my video presence once again.