My little thinker. He's most often found tinkering and does "independent play" well. This mister is my little engineer in the making. He's quiet (mostly) and thoughtful. And a joy every day.
A few months ago (okay, longer than that...) I wrote about the brown-ness of where I grew up. Now I need to be clear, I grew up on and around farmland, but very little GREEN grew there. It was brown (potatoes), brown (wheat), brown-sage (mint), and brown-yellow (alfalfa). You can't find berry bushes or more than a few handfuls of tomato plants in my home desert. (Photos courtesy of DD Ranch [My dad's neighbors] Terrebonne, OR) When I moved a couple years ago (renewing our 3rd lease) I realized how much GREEN we could have. I love the hustle and bustle of the city. I loved the fast-paced, everything within a few min drive...but as time has worn on, I miss dirt therapy. (Buckman Community Garden) I miss the animals, and the smell of rich compost (because you can't plant straight to soil in the desert) I miss the idea of the country, if not the actual country I grew up in. Images Courtesy of Croakers Crossing Farm I've felt an intense pull to ...
Dear Mom-in-Fred-Meyers today. This is an open letter to you, and all moms (and dads) who think it's okay to teach your kids hate and judgment at a young age. Those who teach bullying, and discrimination because of looks. This is to you and your hateful, spiteful selves. You should be ASHAMED! You're the cause of most of the pain in the world. When I took my boys into the ladies bathroom to go potty before they went to Playland, and my 5-year-old complimented your daughter's teddy bear and she sneered at him. Not even a thank you. But that wasn't the worst of it. The worst of it came when my boys were trying to wash their hands and your 3-4 yr old son pushed my 5-year-old aside, and in perfect Toddler-esque English told my son, "You can't be a real boy if you wear that on your hands. Boys don't do that." Excuse the FUCK outta me? Did I seriously just hear gender shaming from a 4 yr old? You know damn well that didn't come of his own v...
I'm doing a Facebook LIVE video today in a large crochet group to outline how I make crochet work for me. Beyond being a therapeutic respite from the world around me, because I can absolutely sink into a project for days on end, crochet has become a huge financial savior in our lives. I suffer from several mental health disorders and chronic migraines, holding a "real job" is hard for me. I have 2 kids on vastly different schedules, and childcare costs more than college in this area. So Crochet gives me the flexibility to take a mental or physical rest day without fearing for my job. Some of the questions I was asked to touch on are answered below. I learned to crochet from my grandma when I was 5, learned to amigurumi when I was 7 in elementary school. I started selling my hats and stuffed toys in my mom's second-hand store and by commission when I was 12 (7th grade). When I was 4 months pregnant with my first son, (2012) I was in a car wreck and my O...
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