A hopeless case

I am addicted. So much so that I can't go into any sort of establishment that sells knitting supplies without buying something. Size 6 needles in bamboo. A skein of this super soft ruby red yarn... maybe for a scarf or shall I bite the bullet and attempt a pair of socks or some mittens? Or how about some of this 100% cotton stuff to make some festive dish cloths and wash cloths? I am forever knitting when I get a chance. Knit knit, purl purl, knit knit, purl purl. Oh look, ribbed!

Have I gone mad? I blame my sister for reintroducing this habit hobby into my life. Only this time it looks like so much more fun than it was years ago when I was pregnant with my son and couldn't get past the 3rd or 4th row without falling asleep between stitches.

And now there is this wonderful thing called the Internet where I can Google things like "100% cotton chenille" (you mean, they really make this stuff??) and order it so that it gets here next week and maybe, just maybe I can try that flower wash cloth that looks too cute to actually use.

But first I will need something to store all these needles and yarn that I have amassed in the past few weeks, keeping in mind that I am only here at my parents' house temporarily and I am sure my mom does not want to see any evidence of this habit hobby once I've packed up my bags and settled into my own place. In fact, I am sure she will never, ever want to wear anything that appears to be knitted or even crocheted because she is sick and tired of seeing needles and yarn and that far off look in my eyes once I settle into a project. Even if she might have read in People magazine that Julia Roberts knits. Even if she might have thought for an instance, Hmm, Julia Roberts knits, my daughter knits... how neat that they have that in common, I am sure she would rather use these needles as a weapon than think that maybe, just maybe this is a worthwhile habit hobby.

Well, I am sure that if my mom were living in Chicago or some other place that has real winter months, she'll be begging for that Merino wool scarf with matching gloves and hat. And she'd absolve me of all my motherly duties and responsibilities just so I can put my feet up and knit to my heart's content for the sake of producing these items just for her.

But alas, real life always takes over and I am forced to put down those needles, which is why it is nearly impossible to finish any sort of project. Plus I get sidetracked, distracted. Knitter's ADD, if you will. For now I will just focus on these quickie dish cloths as a means to sharpen my skills.

Maybe next week I'll have gotten over my fear of circular needles and attempt a hat. Oooh! *rubbing my hands together in excitement!*

Y oh Y

I bit the bullet and decided to join a health club on a month-to-month membership. I thought I'd be okay with my parents' swimming pool and a jump rope, but apparently my issue lies in my motivation, or lack thereof.

Finally on Day 3 of feeling as though I'd fallen into a hole and couldn't climb out of it (depression, perhaps?), I put the kids to bed and rushed off to the nearest YMCA to see if I could get a temporary membership.

Lo and behold, most of this area seems to be made up of retirees who are only here for the cold winter months, so I got my membership and promptly headed to the 9 a.m. Step and Sculpt class after dropping my son off at school the next morning.

Note to self: 2 months is a long time to be on an exercise hiatus. Only the fool in me didn't realize this until half way through the class and I was huffing and puffing, and continued to huff and puff when normally I'd be ready for push ups or another mile or two on the treadmill. That day I visited the medicine cabinet frequently (Ibuprofen) and two days later, my calf muscles still feel like they are on fire.

A few things I've noticed about this particular Y:

I'd say 98% of the people there are senior citizens. Which is fine, until television number 6 suddenly goes blank and being the youngest person at the elliptical trainers, they all turn to me to try and fix it. I did what any young-un would do and deferred the problem to the front desk (where there was someone there who was even younger than me and she in turn deferred it to yet another person).

The Step and Sculpt class has actually been fun, and this might be because I can listen to any kind of music. In this particular class, it's 50's and 60's with a little bit of Jimmy Buffet thrown in. Towards the end of the last class, the CD switched over and over the speakers came the pounding thud of dance music to the tune of Gwen Stefani. 'Oh, finally!' I thought excitedly to myself, only to realize that everyone around me was groaning and they all nodded their heads in unison when the instructor said she hated that kind of music and promptly changed it to the Canon in D on the organ (thankfully this was during the cool down).

And it's no wonder I am sweating profusely at this place. I think they have the temperature set to 80 degrees. You know, on days like today when we only hit a high of 70 degrees, perhaps it is necessary to emulate that muggy Florida weather, even indoors. Only then did I realize that perhaps I had grown accustomed to the frigid Chicago winters, even as much as I say I can't possibly acclimate to that again after living in Southern California for so many years.

Well, I am glad to have found a clean facility in which to exercise. It's close to my parents' house as well as the kids' schools, and the classes are at convenient times. I'm not sure if I quite fit in, but while huffing and puffing, I find it hard to concentrate on anything else but the Beach Boys and the Supremes (because truthfully, at this point I am in a bit of discomfort).

At the very least, I've learned a few things about myself. I need to exercise in order to remain sane. Forget about walks on the beach or pedicures or shopping or peanut butter cup milkshakes. Those are nice to tide me over for a few hours, but I need the endorphins and the norepinephrine or whatever those chemicals are in my brain that keep me happy and energized.

Unfortunately, I've also come to the realization that I'm not impervious to a diet of donuts and fried chicken. And I need to wean myself off of that stuff. Detox is no fun. *sniffle*

Like a good bra

I often wonder if I'm considered to be a good friend. Do I show enough empathy when someone I know is in need? Do I call enough, email enough? Well, now that I think about it, I probably have a lot of work to do. Even when there is a lull in the day's activities, I don't go out of my way to keep in touch with people, at least not like I used to.

I actually used to be a lot like my mom, believe it or not. She is on the phone constantly, chitchatting with her friends and relatives, keeping up with the latest goings on, or lending support when need be. Then my focus shifted to other things and soon I was so out of touch with everyone I knew. Even lately sending an email has become a challenge. It could be that I just don't feel like talking about the latest drama in my life. Or it could be that my body and mind shut down the moment the kids are put to bed. At any rate, I've been a hermit, living here temporarily at my parents' house amid the palm trees and retirees (which quite honestly might not be such a bad thing).

Maybe one day I'll come out of hiding, call a friend or two and catch up with all the things I've been missing out on. Maybe I'll meet some new people when I finally settle into my own place since having the kids' dad around will hopefully allow for me to actually have a social life that doesn't revolve around playdates and small talk at the checkout counter at Target.

But for now I just don't feel like it. And you know what, if certain people are taking it personally that I can't focus on the drama in their lives... well, I guess that just comes to show which friends are real and which are mere fixtures.

Anyway, I did say I was going to stop worrying about what people think. And that is why, even though I've been told that I am "in denial" for believing that this big decision I've made is for the best, I'm just going to keep on hanging onto the belief that I will be happy one day and my kids will grow up to be mentally and emotionally intact. I'm a big girl, I can make smart choices, even if it's not the most popular one.

Excuse the narcissicism

In case you happen to take a gander at the slideshow up above and notice the sudden flood of self portraits, I am working on a little project on flickr.com that involves taking a self portrait each day. A photo journal, if you will. I have been horrible about posting pictures lately, mostly because the PC that I would use to process my photos is still sitting on the floor and every time I lay down to try to work on them I fall asleep. So this little project on flickr has kept me on my toes, otherwise I'd be very unmotivated to take pictures.

I think tomorrow, since my son doesn't have daycare, I may take him to the beach and take some photos there. Nearby is Gasparilla Island (Boca Grande), which is so absolutely gorgeous. The beaches there are far less busy, and therefore less obstacles for me to weave around when chasing my son.

But gosh, come to think of it, it is JANUARY and here I am blogging about possibly going to the beach tomorrow. Did I ever in a million years think that would ever happen?

So anyway, hopefully I will have some more interesting photos to post that are NOT ME. Just so you know.

Princess for a day. Well for two hours of the day anyway.

I decided to have my hair done. And while I was waiting, a pedicure. My first ever. I now know what the fuss is all about. I wasn't too thrilled about sitting in that chair while getting my hair cut and colored because I always get antsy and then sleepy while waiting. But the pedicure was heavenly. From that little jacuzzi thingy that my feet soaked in, to the massage, to the lovely color I chose (appropriately called "I Don't Do Dishes" by OPI).

I am now 5 pounds lighter due to the 6 inches of hair the stylist chopped off. And it's a lovely chestnut brown. I'm not sure how this style will fare in all this humidity, but I was in desperate need of a trim. Only, I never go in for a haircut and expect to cut off an inch or so. I usually say, Chop it all off! because I tend to wait until it's a disastrous overgrown mess before doing anything about it. And after being asked, Are you sure? a few times, I finally decide to just cut off a few inches and I'll see if I like it. I'm not one who is overly attached to my hair, but then the one thing that keeps me from going very short is the small possibility of being invited to some grand event that would require an up-do. Of course, that hasn't happened in the past few years, but it's good to be prepared just in case.

And while I'm not really very diligent about getting my hair trimmed every 4-6 weeks as recommended (try 4-6 months!), I do think I will be a regular with that manicurist. With carseats to install and buckle (and yes, I do dishes as well), a manicure probably wouldn't be too practical. But my feet, which were once abused from running and step aerobics, and then riddled with fire ant bites, are now so lovely... lovely enough to wear the customary Floridian footwear - flip flops. Aw heck, I think I'll just go barefoot.

That ungodly hour

There is one good reason to be asleep at this time, and that is to be blissfully unaware of how long it's been since I've eaten anything. If I were asleep I wouldn't hear my tummy saying, "Feeeed me!" with every growl.

But as luck would have it, I'm wide awake. And as I lay here I can hear my son going about his business in his room as though it's 2:31 p.m. instead of a.m., and he is fully refreshed after an afternoon nap. Only he hasn't slept as far as I know. Where on earth does this kid get his energy?

I enrolled him in daycare part time, something that I've been hesitant to do. Although after the first couple of days of finally having some time to myself, I forgot what reason it was that was keeping me from doing this. Day 1 and Day 2 involved a bit of separation anxiety (on his part! not mine! really!), but today he happy took his seat at that kid-sized table full of Play Doh and waved goodbye to me. And when I came to pick him up in the afternoon, he gave his teacher a big hug and waved goodbye to all his friends.

Quite honestly in just these last few days of being around kids his age, he has already changed. He is talking more (something which has concerned me, since his big sister was using words like "pulchritudinous" at this age), listening, and today he actually helped me clean up a stack of cards that he and his little sister flung all over the room. Could it be that my son is finally exiting that baby stage? Can we finally leave the house without that fear that he'll dart off in any random direction and put himself in harm's way. Well, we shall see...

Of course, that leaves the youngest who is now beginning to go through that stage. You know, that one in which she is very obviously up to something and she is doing it on purpose just to see how I'd react. And it makes her giggle every time.

And this, my friends, is why I am so glad... SO GLAD... that kindergarten here is ALL DAY LONG. Yes. From morning up until afternoon. None of this few hours a day baloney. Not that I am glad to be rid of my daughter for 6 hours a day, 5 days a week, but I truly believe she is the one who is glad to be rid of me.

So basically for 3 days a week while my youngest takes her nap, I am free to do as I please without any guilt that any of the kids are being short changed because I'm not tending to their every need. For now this is something that I am taking full advantage of. Most of the time I am doing odd projects around the house for my mom or running errands all over southwest Florida, so as much as I'd love to just sit and do nothing it's actually not allowed as long as my mom has this house to tend to. But to be able to do all of this amid peace and quiet... ah! Bliss!

Finally, a moment to breathe.

While my two older kids are in school, the youngest is napping, and finally I have a little bit of time to just sit and do nothing. I thought about joining a gym, maybe the local YMCA, because I am in dire need of some exercise, but I think for now I am going to just be lazy and not feel an ounce of guilt about it.

The past few weeks have been very busy, with the holidays and birthdays and visits from my brother and sister. Admittedly the warm weather took away that holiday mood, when usually the air is crisp and there is snow on the ground. And well, my family doesn't do the traditional Christmas thing with a big formal dinner and presents to open on Christmas morning. Since we don't usually see each other, we mostly focused on spending time together and relaxing. Very low stress. Aaah!

And since my sister is still visiting, she has gotten me to pick up those knitting needles once again and start on a few projects. My mom has gone gung-ho with gardening, which really means I have a Mexican petunia, a few impatiens, and 2 palm trees (not to mention few native plants I've never heard of) to replant somewhere. And of course, there are still curtains to be hung, paintings and photos to situate, and all the usual things that go with moving into a new house. *sigh*

But for now I am going to relax until the guilt of my laziness gets to me and I decide I will brave the mosquitoes and take up running again. I'll knit a few scarves, maybe some dish cloths, watch some chick flicks at night after the kids are in bed, and just enjoy life as it is at the moment.