Separated at birth?

M. I. A.

I have been missing in action from my blog this week. I would have taken a picture of all of the hats I have been knitting, but uploading the pictures takes time and frankly, I can't be bothered right now.

Audrey's holiday bazaar is in 6 days. Less than one week. I have become a knitting fiend. And I have to say, a significant portion of my stress is the fact that I don't know how many hats to knit. I've never done this before and I've developed a sort of bi-polar attitude toward my progress. In a 60 second period I can swing from "Oh my word I'm a crazy person who has just spent the last month knitting 500 hats" to "I'm going to sell out in 10 minutes, and then what will I do?". I don't know what to expect. And yet I keep knitting. Diane from Venue has told me to start bringing the holiday items, so I'm feeling that pressure as well. To date I have:

Cinderella
a pile of plush cupcakes
a pile of felted pears
3 snowman hats
2 candy cane striped stocking caps
1 viking hat
8 cupcake hats
2 pumpkin hats
1 strawberry hat
1 watermelon hat
1 blueberry hat
5 different hats that I think are adorable, but no one on Etsy seems to think so

It's been all knitting all the time. And I have a special order to do, I still working on that birthday cake, I have my mom's socks, and Ryan keeps checking in with me to make sure I have the right yarn to make his Harry Potter bookscarf from my new birthday book.

Oh yeah, and I have a family and a life to lead. And by "a life to lead" I mean it's my job to make sure other people in this house have a life. I cleaned the bathrooms yesterday. It had been a while. A long while. The kids were commenting. So I spent some serious time cleaning bathrooms. Alice's new litter box is in the boy's bathroom and between the boys and Alice, that room is practically a bio-hazard. When I'm not looking I think Alice is sneaking a little shovel into the bathroom and digging a hole in her litterbox, tossing the contents of the shovel over her little kitty shoulder. On to the bathroom floor. I have to clean that up twice a day. NOT that I'm complaining, mind you. Alice has not had an accident in weeks--even though she is too lazy to take her 15 year old bones down to the laundry room litterbox, we are delighted that she has agreed to use the litterbox 7 feet away from our bedroom. I have to tell myself that each and every time I clean up the cat litter.

I have boys to take to school, swimming lessons, birthday parties, kid's choir and playdates. I have laundry. L A U N D R Y. I have thank you notes to write for birthday gifts I received 2 weeks ago. Notes I really want to write because I received some very thoughtful gifts. These people who live here keep telling me they want to eat. Most of them don't actually eat what I give them, but I still feel obligated to provide them with food when they ask for it. And then I feel the need to clean up the food. And today we're having lunch with Ryan at school because he is a Student Of The Month, and Students Of The Month get to eat at a special table, invite their families (who are instructed to bring McDonalds. It's really funny--a big long table lined with McDonald's bags, because that seems to be the universal special lunch of choice) and hear a presentation from the Principal.

I've volunteered in Ryan's class, and I've volunteered in Eric's class. I completely cleaned my kitchen from top to bottom--including washing out the pantry and the refrigerator--because we brought fruit flies home from the grocery store (Mike and I spent hours cleaning out the kitchen on Saturday. Hours. And we still have fruit flies). I repaired my garden after the septic tank guy came and I've made about 3 trips to Target this week.

THAT is why I have not been blogging.

People have been shot doing this...

The Viking Hat!

Yesterday was a crazy day. There was a big storm predicted for the Seattle area, but I had plans to go to Venue, so to Venue I went. I had a bag of new hats, including this Viking Hat. When I showed it to Diane, the owner, she squealed. Literally, squealed. Then ran to the back room to show Caitlin. Diane said they're going to place bets on how fast it sells. And I need to make sure I make plenty for Viking Days. Viking Days--I forgot all about Viking Days! Isn't this hat just a scream?!

Eric and I went back home and hung out, waiting for the storm to really kick into high gear. Which it did around 2:30. Our neighborhood lost power and we didn't get it back until 3:00 am. I know that is when it finally came back on because everything came back on. Lights, tv, washing machine (which had been in the middle of a cycle when the power went out)--so I had to walk around the house at 3:00 in the morning and turn everything off. This was about an hour after Eric woke us up shrieking because the little battery powered touch-light we gave him burned out. We all then woke up around 7:30, which is pretty late if your 7 year old has a bus to catch at 8:00. Needless to say, I was very tired this morning, and had quite a bit to do, since I had been without power for 13 hours.

So after dropping Eric off at preschool, I came back home to tidy up and get some laundry done. I decided to take a couple of minutes to check my email in the office when I heard a sound. In the house. I am suppose to be alone in the house and I am hearing noises coming from inside the house. I heard the sound of footsteps, clicking on the hardwood floor. The last time I heard that sound, it was a squirrel in my house. Only the more I listened, I decided they were human footsteps. There was another human in my house. Or a squirrel. Or a human. Or a squirrel. I was really starting to panic when I realized it was the sound of a human wearing size 10 1/2 dress shoes. Attached to the soon-to-be-deceased father of my children.

Mike had come home at 10:00 in the morning. Without calling or warning me. And I didn't hear him come through the door because, well, we have door issues right now. Really, we have house issues right now, as in our house has many many many issues. One of them being our doors. Our front door is always locked and it has a safety lock on the inside to keep Eric from opening the front door. So when we come home we can't use the front door. We've always used the garage door opener, but our garage door needs to be replaced--it's falling apart and the opener won't work. It opens it, but can't close it. Or the other way around. Whatever--it's broken. We can open it manually, but it's heavy and a pain. So we've been using our mudroom door to get in and out of the house. Problem with that is, that door is broken too. It's as ancient as the garage door and desperately needs to be replaced. The locks don't work from the outside and the only way to make sure it is truly shut is to deadbolt it, but the key won't work in the deadbolt, so you can only deadbolt it from the inside. During the day we leave it unlocked and use that door to go in and out. Yes, what I am saying is we have 2 broken unlocked doors, just begging for someone to break in. Only if someone broke in, they would be so frightened and disappointed by what they saw, they would immediately leave and look for better prospects.

Don't get me wrong--I don't take the door issue lightly. But it is what it is and we need about $2500 worth of doors, locks, and openers to fix this problem. This is how we're making due. Only with the windstorm yesterday, we had to deadbolt the mudroom door because it kept blowing open, and use the heavy, broken garage door to get in and out of the house. And this is how Mike got in. He pushed up the garage door, walked in through the garage, and quietly walked into the house. I didn't hear any of this. I just heard an intruder in my dining room. Or another squirrel.

When I realized it was Mike, all I could do was start yelling at him. "What are you DOING? WHY are you HERE? You nearly gave me a HEART ATTACK! You couldn't have called?!" And all the yelling made Mike start to laugh because apparently it never occurred to him that his little surprise visit might startle me. And when I told him I thought it might be another squirrel (and honestly, I'm not sure which I was more concerned about--another squirrel or an intruder), he responds with "Why would you think there was a squirrel in the house?" like it would be totally inconceivable that we would have a 3rd squirrel in the house. Those first 2 made sense, but a 3rd? Please. The more I yelled, the more he laughed. Apparently he had been in the neighborhood and needed to print out something for a client and decided to do it at home rather than find a Kinkos. Not once did he think it necessary to warn me he was coming home at a time that I expect NO ONE to be at home.

And then, just like a man, Mike started to hint...we're alone....YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! I'M STILL RECOVERING FROM A STROKE HERE AND YOU WANT TO KNOW IF I'M IN THE MOOD?! And he honestly gave me a look like I was the one being completely unreasonable. At that point I was actually sorry it had not been a squirrel. Or an intruder. Or that I didn't have a baseball bat in my hands.

When Mike returned home this afternoon he shouted "IT'S ME, MIKE. I'M HOME!" from the kitchen doorway.

I really need to find that baseball bat.

How do you know a 4 year old needs a nap?

When he started crying uncontrollably, lamenting that he is NOT tired and does NOT need a nap, and then proceeds to go down the laundry list of everything in his life that he hates.

Nap time.

But what if I don't want to Get Things Done?

My Stash

Mike has been reading books by this organizational guru/freak about Getting Things Done. GTD. That's all I hear these days. GTD. David Allen says this, David Allen says that...let's Get Things Done! This wacko, who I think lives with his mother and their 14 cats, has this system for how to organize your office, papers, boxes of important things that you never look at, your inbox, email, voicemail, actual mail.....Mike is trying to apply these systems to all areas of his business, my house, and now he is trying to convert me. What this means for me is piles and piles of papers and files "in the works", and a critical eye over my half of the office. I suddenly find I have an important phone call to make right around the time Mike starts to talk about GTDing my stuff.

The other day Mike started looking at some of our living room furniture. My mom sells antiques and I think I have yet to return home from a trip to Whidbey Island without a treasure I cannot live without. She finds incredible bargains and is happy to pass them on to me. Like the double-signed/triple matted Charles Wysocki currently hanging in my living room that she bought for $40 at a garage sale. Or the precious silverware caddie that looks adorable next to my fireplace, found for $45. And although Mike clearly benefits from my mom's shopping talents as well as I do, he does get a little wary when my mom says "let's run out to the shop for a few minutes. I have some new things to show you..."

A place for everything, and everything in it's place
At least now I can justify the
existence of this silverware
caddie to my husband.

I think my stashes of yarn have been starting to get to Mike. They are everywhere. In baskets, in piles, in bags, and stuffed on top of books in the bookcase in the office. My knitting needle collection has not much better. And it just so happens that I have an antique desk and a silverware caddie with nothing in them. Empty drawers. Wouldn't it be a good idea for me to organize my yarn and needles and make use of our existing furniture at the same time?

Damn that David Allen. He is actually starting to make sense. So I spent all Saturday morning clearing yarn and all other knitting paraphernalia from every nook and cranny and placing it all into the desk and silverware caddie. It is actually convenient. And helpful. And quite useful. Damn it.

and more stash....

This yarn bowl/holder/caddie thingy came from my mom's shop. I can't even remember how little she paid for it, but of course I had to have it. And of course I have to use it.

Viking hat in the works

Even though I still loathe David Allen and all he stands for (because, thanks to him, I have piles of papers and client files all over my dining table where a tablecloth and attractive centerpiece should be) I will admit to you, my faithful readers that in this one particular circumstance, David Allen has a point. But hear this, Mike--I am NOT David Allenizing the rest of the office. Life is too short.

I am still knitting like a mad woman. I'm part way through the viking hat and I LOVE it! They sent the kit with Karabella wool, which is just about my bestest favoritest yarn. When I emailed them to ask for the horn directions because apparently the girl viking is suppose to have wings, which I can't even talk about, Bella Knitting was so nice about it and sent me the entire boy pattern for free. I'm planning a trip to Venue on Thursday and I will be extremely annoyed and blame David Allen if I don't get this hat finished by then.

I also just finished a special order from Venue for a pair of baby mittens and I'm just about to get started on another Venue special order for an adult ski hat. The boys' swimming teacher wants another hat, and I have just 2 weeks until Audrey's gift show. Whew! I'm out of breath just thinking about all of it! I still have to finish the bottom of Meghan's birthday cake and I can't even begin to tell you the restraint it is taking to keep me from starting anything from Charmed Knits: Projects For Fans of Harry Potter. Sounds weird and little obsessive I know, but this book is truly adorable. Precious. Must knit one of everything. Leah gave the book to me for my birthday and I know she was as excited to give it to me as I was excited to receive it.

Perhaps if I knit myself a magic wand I would be able to Get Things Done!