- Kisses by the Sea by Joji Locatelli in Hedgehog Fibres Sock in the Tea Cup, Rusted Nail, and Raven colorways. Such a fast knit!!
Something I want: A Whimsical Wood Yarn Co.
Something I need
- Slow down!!
- Good knitting friends and test knitters for critique
Something to wear: Filament by Anne Podlesak and Kathleen Dames
Something to read:
The Girl Who Crafted giveaway!!
- Discount code: Cultivate2016
- Lily Blue colorway on your choice of base
- Visit Sari’s shop
- What other fandoms and characters would you like to see?
- Must be a member of the group
Creepy, Crawly Critter KAL!! with Susie of Prairie Girls Knit & Spin
Thank you for joining me!
Something I want: Why do you create?
- Where do you find inspiration when you’re feeling stifled?
- How do you nurture it?
- What are your favorite IG accounts?
Something I need: a good bulky yarn for a work cardigan
Something to wear: I’m obsessed with LuLaRoe!!!
Something to read (or listen): The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer read by Rebecca Soler
Daizie Knits Yarn giveaway!!!
Okay. Let’s get real here for a minute. Parenting is hard. Like some days I’m convinced my child is trying to send me over the edge. The other day he thought it would be fun to dump packing peanuts on our living room floor and make snow angels.
Those later became “snowballs” he threw at the dogs…who promptly started eating them. Don’t worry, they’re cornstarch.
I sometimes wonder what I’d do if I didn’t have my mom-posse to run to for support or help or just a minute of griping.
I mentioned on my latest podcast episode that I started a book about parenting, and it is about not momming alone. I loved the idea (although the book wasn’t for me). I’ve maintained from the start that we aren’t meant to parent by ourselves. We need people in the trenches with us for those days when our kids have ridden the dog into the bedroom, pulled every book off the shelf, and eaten a whole Halloween bag of Reese’s Cups. (Never happened here. No way!)
They also can sit at the kitchen table and chat while the kids put on a show complete with guitars and microphones. (Thanks, Grammy & Baba.) They know to sidestep the Lego on the floor and to ignore the fruit snack ground into my couch. And they get it that dinner probably won’t include quiet conversation. In fact, they’ll laugh–or at least pretend to–as my kid tells a knock-knock joke that makes no sense at all. And I love them for that. And my kid loves them for that.
But, maybe more importantly, they need those people. Parents make us roll our eyes. Maybe not as much now that I’m in my thirties, but at ten and sixteen and even at twenty, my parents were just the goofballs who embarrassed me in public. But my friends’ parents were cool. They got it. They listened.
And I want that for G. He might be convinced I don’t “get him”, but hopefully one of my mom village will. And hopefully they’ll be able to steer him in the right direction when he’s too embarrassed or angry or annoyed to come to me. And I can only hope I have the opportunity to do the same for them. Because I know they love my kid nearly as much as their own, just as I do theirs.
This past weekend I spent some time organizing and taking inventory of my stash. I started taking photos of some new (and not-so-new) skeins to upload to Ravelry and had a twinge of guilt for my wool-piggery, but then I caught myself. Why? Why should I feel guilty for indulging in something that makes me happy?
My stash has become somewhat of a joke among my knitting group and my family. Last year I had a purge and put the spoils out for my knitting friends to take, and I often give yarn to my mom (which often results in my getting a knitted gift in return). Chris, my husband, calls it “his investment”. A few weeks ago, Chris and I were talking about our will, and I joked that I’m making a friend an executor of my yarn. He told me that, no, he’d be putting it up on eBay or Etsy. I know he was joking, but I felt a flare of anger as silly as that sounds. The idea of my stash being sold off without care really bothered me. My yarn brings me joy, each skein, and I enjoy sharing that joy when a skein no longer speaks to me. I suppose this brings me back to my initial thought: Why do I feel guilty for indulging in something that makes me happy? The answer seems to be that I feel like I should. I often hear knitters talk about their stash with that tone…that guilty tone, like we’re doing something wrong because we indulge ourselves. You hear it at retreats and fiber fairs a lot.
Well, I’m done with that tone. I have a well-curated stash, and I’m proud of it. When I see a new pattern on Ravelry or Instagram, and I’m feeling knitspired, I know I can go upstairs, dig through my yarn, and find the perfect skein. I recognize that isn’t for everyone. Some knitters function better by buying only for planned projects, and that works for them. That makes them happy. But for me, I like that my yarn room overfloweth, and I don’t want to feel badly about that.
My lights are still on, my son is fed, and my yarn brings me joy. So I’m standing up (figuratively) and saying, I’m Sarah. I have a large stash. And I’m proud of it.
I’m not usually one to look back. I prefer to look ahead and consider what’s next, but for whatever reason, this year, I’m feeling very introspective. As I’m typing this up, I’m looking back through my Flickr and Instagram photos and rediscovering all of the fun I had in 2015. Much of it was with my family…
And nearly all of it involved knitting.
I don’t think I realized when I began knitting how much of a part of my life it would become or the friends I would meet because of it.
But knitting has become the constant in my life. Next to family and friends who are like family, it gives me the most comfort when I’m facing a difficult decision and the most joy when I need it. Looking back over my projects for 2015, I realize I didn’t knit nearly as much as I have in years past, despite working parttime. There were many times I remember simply sitting on the couch holding my yarn. Staring at my needles.
2015 was a year of fun, but also a year of flux. I moved away from places I was comfortable with, and I began new endeavors. Some felt great, and some I was terrified to take the leap. I’ve doubted myself a lot in 2015. I’ve fished for peptalks from my husband and my friends. I’ve stood, staring in the mirror, questioning myself and talking myself up. I’ve avoided situations that make me uncomfortable or anxious.
But looking through all those photos and remembering the fun I had also reminded me that when I took the leap, when I faked confidence until it was real, I had fun. A lot of it. I felt joy. So, my word for 2016 is confidence. I will be strong and confident. And if I’m not feeling that way, then I’ll fake it until it becomes real.