Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Shatter Duty

Shatter Duty: noun. The responsibility of having to tell your child something hurtful for their own good.

Sound harsh? It is. And it sucks. Big time.

Viking Toddler asked for a Superman cape for his birthday last July. Being crafty and using any sort of excuse to add to my craftiness, I whipped one up. He's been playing with it on and off since. Lately, it's mostly been on.

When I first made him his cape, I was careful to remind him about the rules of reality, as in, a cape won't make him fly and Superman is just a movie and not real.

Today, a lady I knew was telling me about a child years ago in the Philippines (her home country) that *supposedly* tried to fly down the stairs and didn't survive. True story or not, I decided I ought to give our little guy a refresher in gravity.

"You know you can't fly, right? It's just a story. Some kids have tried it, and gotten very hurt."

See the bold part? That's the only part he heard. The next thing I knew, he said, "Can I try flying off the roof?"

All stop! Hold everything! What did my child just ask me???

So, while making breakfast, I had a conversation with my little guy in which I had to explain to him in no uncertain terms that people can't fly. I told him Superman and Batman aren't real, they're just stories, and those were just actors in the movies that were made to look super with camera tricks. I reiterated that people, including himself, can't fly.

"Oh," he said. "Not today?"

No, not just not today. Not at all. Not ever. Superheros aren't real, no one flies, and if he tried it he would get hurt.

I literally saw his heart shatter. His lip stuck out and he got all teary.

This wasn't in the manual.

Sunday, November 21, 2010


Marttration: (mart-tration) noun. Frustration felt from visiting a store or shopping center that you hate.

I don't exactly dig Wal-Mart. Our local one is crowded, dusty, and the shoppers there are generally rude at best. However, sometimes we need one particular item that Wal-Mart carries and our other stores don't. If we don't want to drive for half an hour or 45 minutes for that item, Wal-Mart is the only place we can go.

So there's the back story. Now that you know it, I can proceed. A few days ago, we were at Wal-Mart purchasing that one dreaded item that the other stores didn't have. We finished our shopping, got into the car, and were about to leave when a woman walking by with her cart just stopped right in front of our car (we had backed in and were facing out). Two men drove up to her, and while standing with her cart directly in front of our car, proceeded to load the other car that was now stopped in the roadway.

"She's going to leave that cart there, you know," I said to Husband. Not sure why I said it. I think Wal-Mart just puts me in a bad mood.

"No, she'll move it," he replied.

Well, she finished loading, left the cart in front of our car so we couldn't get out, and got into the other car. Of course, Husband was not having this nonsense and proceeded to honk his horn at her repeatedly. She and her two male friends turned around and gave us blank looks until they realized what happened. So the woman got back out of the car, took the cart and jumped it onto one of those curbed grassy areas (you know, the ones where the shopping places plant small trees and use the areas to separate the parking lots?), got back into her car, and left.

Oh, and let me tell you the best part. The cart return area was right across the aisle from where she stood, about 10 or 15 feet away.

Friday, November 12, 2010


Crafstake: noun. Mistake pertaining to crafting.

I've been sewing up a storm lately. My fabric stash is growing, as is my confidence. And on that line of thought, I branched out into something a bit new (and feared among some sewers): jersey knit.

Now, for you non-sewers, jersey knit is that mildly stretchy stuff that t-shirts are made out of. I found some on sale and proceeded to attempt to make some nice shirts.

First attempt: making a ruffled tee using an existing t-shirt as a pattern, using the instructions from a nifty little blog called Make It and Love It. I followed the instructions for the body of the t-shirt, but the sleeves didn't fit the armholes. I wanted a lower neck line, but cut it in the wrong spot and ended up with an off-the-shoulder number. I wasn't sure what happened, but chalked it up to user error. In the end, what I had was unwearable. (This is the part where I point out that NOW I know what I did and there were no problems with her instructions. Completely my fault.)

Second attempt: After a while away from stretchy shirt ideas, I tried again. This time, I took the seems out of an old, well-loved, and well-fitting t-shirt and used that as a pattern. Body was fine, sleeves, again, did not fit the armholes. I was angry and frustrated. I recut the sleeves a couple of times, which did not help my mood.

I was talking with Husband about my frustration with the project when he asked a question that I hadn't even considered: "Did you put the sleeves on backwards?"

"Of course not!" I was ready to say. "What kind of idiot...wait. Hang on."

I checked the original pattern pieces and guess what? I put the shoulder seam on the outer arm and the outer seam against the shoulder. (If you non-sewers don't know what I'm talking about, just know that it was wrong.) Out came the seam ripper, and after a little bit of extra effort, I found the original sleeves fit just fine and now I have a rather lovely shirt that I made myself.

Monday, November 1, 2010


Dafter: noun. The day after any sort of tiring event.

Today is the dafter of Halloween. Fun? Yes. Adorable? Certainly. Tiring? Oh-my-freaking-goodness-I-need-a-nap.

After I took the kids trick-or-treating, I stayed up late watching a movie and generally goofing off. I am so, so, SO sorry I did that. I have at this moment been up for 4 hours and have yet to actually wake up.

Chocolate didn't help.

Tea didn't help.

Maybe I can convince Viking Toddler to take a nap so I can, too.