Category Archives: randomness

random ramblings of Yours Truly.

depression, parenthood, randomness, sewing Leave a comment

Life In General

Rocking it old-school today with a general life data dump on the blog. It’s been a while.

Last night, the owner of the karate studio pulled Connor and me into his office and told us that he thinks Connor is ready for Black Belt Club — that is, he seems to be serious about karate and wants to continue to pursue higher belts and ranks.

Honestly, the main reason Connor wanted to join BBC was to get to play with a sword.

His first go at sword was last night, and he did great. Pretty soon, though, they’ll be learning a different weapon, so we won’t be buying him his own wooden sword anytime soon — he’ll just borrow a sword until the whole group gets their new weapons.

Black Belt Club is really an ingenious way to get families into a longer-term commitment — instead of signing up for a six-month commitment, it becomes a two-year commitment. It’s hard to imagine Connor in third grade, honestly; I hope we haven’t overcommitted.

When I think about it, though, I took ballet classes from age four to age eight, and it was really just a part of my life. I loved it and looked forward to it, and I know my family had to stretch their funds to be able to afford it. Ballet had lasting benefits for me, though, just as I hope karate will for Connor.

* * *

i’ve been staring at my first attempt at a t-shirt for a week or so. It’s been hanging on a hanger in my bedroom, where I can look at it and learn from the mistakes I made while sewing: attaching the neckband to an armhole, sewing the other armband on inside-out, stitching the actual neckband all funny and uneven.

Last night, I decided I would wear it to work today.

Honestly, you really can’t tell unless I point it out that the neckline (artfully hidden under my scarf) is way wavy, or that the hem is also exceptionally wavy. It’s not just a gardening shirt, after all — it’s totally wearable.

My next go-around with a knit tee will probably involve spray starch for the hems (and maybe the seams), and a longer and wider zig-zag stitch. I’ve got plans. I’m learning. I’m damn proud of myself.

* * *

When there were no supermarket flowers awaiting me on the kitchen table this morning alongside Connor’s chocolates, I kind of hoped that I’d be getting a delivery at work today.

As usual, I was not disappointed:

Can’t help lovin’ that man of mine.

* * *

To be frank, I’ve been in kind of a funk lately. I haven’t wanted to do any sewing this week, and I’ve been spending my evenings snacking and watching YouTube (my current obsession is The Origin of Everything by PBS).

Seeing the last couple of days laid out in front of me is starting to help me shake it off. I’m pretty stoked to try sewing up my next knit t-shirt, I’m excited for Connor to extend himself and push himself in karate class (no excuses!), and I feel mighty loved, despite also still feeling like I’m disappointing others left and right.

That’s the normal state of my brain, though; I’m used to it.

depression, randomness Leave a comment

Getting My Feet Under Me

Lately, I’ve been taking one lunch hour per week at The Bux next door, toting my Bluetooth keyboard with me to write. I didn’t really feel like coffee today, though, so today I’m sitting in the 6th floor cafeteria in my office building, trying super hard to ignore the conversations around me.

Yesterday morning, I took a pretty good spill downtown while crossing the street. I thought I was fine at the time — honestly, I still think I’m mostly fine — but I do have some aches and stiffness that I might not have gotten from a fall like that when I was younger. I took some strongish drugs for the aches, and I’m still wearing the anti-nausea patch I put on last night. (I’ll keep it on until I reach the three-day mark or it starts to dilate my eyes, whichever comes first.)

I kinda feel like that overall. I need to get my feet back under me and move forward. I have lots of outstanding, almost-done projects at work; my personal clutter is strewn all over the house; my clothes don’t fit right anymore; and my throat and eyes have that dry, scratchy, I’m Getting Sick kind of feeling. I can’t really focus on just one thing and fix it — I have to continue my triage and keep chipping away at things.

It probably doesn’t help that I’m also behind on my self-imposed January deadlines: posting my 2018 Year In Review, posting a roll of photos to my blog, and sewing a piece of clothing from a commercial pattern. I’ve gotten some things done, like creating a 2019 calendar, making a present for Connor’s friend, Harper, and tracking all of my meals in WW eTools. January is not a total wash by any means.

I really just feel tired, which manifests as feeling depressed and unmotivated. If I can turn things around and get my head in the right place, my brain meds can help me from continuing the spiral.

I’ll bet I can get myself out of this thing if I just focus on getting to bed earlier and being just a little more active every day. That, plus distracting myself from after-dinner snacking, which has been A Major Thing this week. Maybe I can do some meditation during my usual snack time.

I’ve got this. No worries.

depression, randomness Leave a comment

Life Doesn’t Suck, But Hormones Do

Seriously. The logical part of my brain is clearly indicating that my inability to get to sleep lately, combined with the time of month, is making everything seem epic and insurmountable.

Meanwhile, my amygdala is all, “Screw It.”

Nothing is horrible. Things are generally cool. We booked our vacation recently, which has me pretty excited (except for that whole two-piece swimsuit thing, which I am so not in the right mindset for right now). I’m back on the WW wagon, tracking what I eat and exercising when I can. My son is taking karate and seems to be really enjoying it.

But all the little shit is just piling on, bit by bit.

Continue reading →

parenthood, randomness Leave a comment

First Snow Day

A green golf-cart-like vehicle is driving past the window of the downtown Starbucks. The rear gate is down, and a man in a hooded Carhartt is dangling his legs off the back, sweeping armfuls of icemelt from behind himself and down onto the sidewalk.

That explains the curious patterns the salt makes.

The precipitation is falling like a fine, light snow, but making ripples in the puddles like rain. All morning, it hasn’t been able to commit to one form or the other — rain or snow or something in between.

Many of the trees in the oversized black planters outside are still clinging to leaves in shades of burgundy, orange, and chartreuse. The fall colors seem out of place with their branches’ accompanying thin layer of snow.

My son is enjoying his first snow day of first grade. Not at home, though: he’s at Extended Time, at the same place where he attended summer day camp. Hopefully, that means he’ll get to see some friends he hasn’t seen since August or September. For once, he was excited to go to ET; last year, he hated ET because he would miss his normal school friends. That boy is so social.

The car seems to just know the way to that school, after three straight months of morning drives to summer camp, after a full school year of snow days and all-day programs during breaks. Funny how an old routine can be so comfortable and familiar, like putting on that pair of sneakers after a summer of sandals.

Snowflakes are falling in earnest now, as I write this. This morning, as we drove to ET, the precipitation fell on the windshield as a light rain, but with the percussive hit of sleet. Hence why nearly every school district in the area cancelled for the day.

No snow day for us grown-ups, though. Time to get back to work.