I was listening to our local public radio station in KC and they interviewed the Rebecca Walker, the author of Baby Love. It is her memoir about choosin to have a child after years of ambivalence about motherhood.

The interview struck a note with me because I’ve been going through something similar for a while. The thought of motherhood had a definite feeling of unreality to me. I’ve always loved children and thought I might have kids one day, but never felt the pressure to have children or felt as though my life would be incomplete without them. It was not something inevitable.

Mike and I decided about a year and a half ago that we wanted to try to get pregnant. I went off birth control and we “tried.” After a year of the monthly roller-coaster (and a small fortune in pregnancy tests and LH surge detectors) we decided to seek professional help.

My feelings haven’t exactly changed about the matter. I still don’t feel like I have to have a child. However, now that we have decided that we want kids, I find myself just as devastated by our infertility as the next woman. I feel guilty that my body is the one that seems to be at fault and a little betrayed by every friend who gets pregnant so easily – jealous of their joy and hating myself for it.

I want to be different –I don’t want to end up defining myself – my marriage by our infertility. Yet, there is certainly something reassuring about the universality of it all. Reading the blogs of other women who are trying to get pregnant is cathartic. I am relieved to read about those who manage to get pregnant or adopt, sympathetic with those who decide to abandon the effort and move on, and terrified by those who are still trying year after year.

Now is where things get a little weird for me. After learning so much from the stories other women share, do I write about it? Do I blog about it? Do I open it up for discussion, open myself up to strangers or scarier yet, my friends and family?

I guess this is the long way round of saying …what the hell…. No on reads my blog anyway.

Bookmarks

Megan at Make it Snappy has a book meme today's posting that I may get around to. In meantime, it inspired me to think about books and why I am such an addict. Mike says that the pile of books scattered under my bed, in my bedside table, the kitchen counter and so on isn't how he knows I am a true addict. It's my horrible tendency to read in the shower. Really it isn't that hard (though I admit, I won't take any of the books I really love into the shower.)

We all have milestones in our lives and we all remember them in different ways. For me, if my brain could be looked at as a journal or a filing cabinet, the books I've read at important points in my life would be the little post-it flags that stick out of the pages. Reading a certain book, picking it up and flipping through the pages, or even seeing the title on someone else's blog takes me immediately back to someplace in my history.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Bettie Smith- My mother recommended this book to me. No matter how old I get, when I open A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, I am a kid again reading a book my mother loved when she was a girl and understanding her better for it.

Dick and Jane Books - My Nanie (Great Aunt) used to live in a cottage on Houghton Lake in Michigan. She is an ex-teacher who taught in a deaf school and she is still one of the sharpest wits I know. My sister and I spent our summers practically living at her cottage with our parents coming in and out as time allowed. She has always been tough but fair. She didn't put up with nonsense, but on the other hand knew just how to let us spread our wings when we needed it.

Anyway, she had a stash of old kids books that used to belong to my dad and his cousins (imagine my horror to discover that she was his Nanie first!) I loved to read them over and over. The illustrations were so different and the stories were too. I am sure that the cottage is one of the reasons I love old books. I still feel a bit of a thrill looking into books that belonged to someone else in a different era. Not only is it a glimpse into a different time but it also takes me back to carefree summers, the smell of the water, and days when looking through these old books was a serious business - uncovering mysteries and discovering glimpses into the world my parents grew up in.

Captain K-Man

Two weeks ago Mike and i went down to Springfield for K-man's birthday and Emily's baby shower. Both were super-fun and I was relieved that I manage to squeeze in some sewing time before we hit the road.

I am relieved to say that I am finally getting a little better and a little faster at this sort of thing. My projects are looking less and less like they were made by a by a toddler and more like I actually know what i am doing.

The K-man got his own super-cape. We had a quick chat to make sure that he understood he was not to actually try to fly...and then he was off.

before delivery:

After delivery - (it is hard to make the little guy stand still):

Sewing Room Redo

A few weeks ago, I redid my sewing room - again. I am finally happy with the results. I painted the room again. Yes, I know the room was blue before but that was periwinkle and this is a nice crispy aqua. Anyway, it is perfect. Now it just needs more art, an inspiration board, the perfect window treatment, and maybe a garland or two.

Umm... ok not quite perfect yet. Here are a couple of photos. I have more in flickr.

Why Ketchup?

Ok ok...apparently the allusion is not obvious to everyone else. I was not a huge fan of Pulp Fiction but it was definately memorable. There are quotes from that movie that still rattle around in my brain and I only saw it once in the theater years ago.

"Three tomatoes are walking down the street- a poppa tomato, a momma tomato, and a little baby tomato. Baby tomato starts lagging behind. Poppa tomato gets angry, goes over to the baby tomato, and smooshes him... and says, Catch up."

Christmas Ketchup #3

This is one of three crafting aprons I made for Dottie, Dylan, and Lisa. The fabric is a little different on each but the design is the same. I used this wonderful tutorial from Creative Little Daisy.

Christmas Ketchup #2

Clearly, I am pretty slow with the posting - nothing new really. Here is a picture of the bag I made for Mike's mom. I was trying to match a pattern that she saw in a quilting store (but they didn't have in stock.) It was designed with her knitting in mind with a long pocket inside for her needles and smaller pockets for stitch markers etc.

Christmas Ketchup #1

This was the year of the Crafty Christmas. As everyone knows by now, Mike's family celebrated the infamous "Make-it-Yourself Christmas." It is all good fun until someone gets hurt.

Seriously though, Mike's finger is healing like a champ. I'm amazed by how much better it looks. There is no pretending that it will ever look normal again. That's OK though, Mike already imagining how much fun it will be to shake his ugly finger at our hypothetical kids while reminding them that Norm always says, "Safety First."

Anyway, back to the Christmas crafting...



I made this messenger bag for Logan out of dark brown corduroy. I went for a very simple and quiet design on the outside. Partially because Logan is a quiet guy and partially because this was my first messenger bag.

The inside was a different story alltogether...



I'm not sure what he *really* thinks about the pin-up girls on the inside of his bag, but Mike is convinced that it is perfect for a teenage boy.

Cool Tool: Ribcap Knit Helmet

This would be a good fabric choice for work gloves, too, if they can get it thin enough.

Fabric Junkie's Garland

Fabric Junkie's Garland
Originally uploaded by moppetblog.

Inspired by the felt leaf garlands at Wise Craft and Pink Trees
I went a little crazy and had enough trees and circles for this 15 foot garland with plenty left over for another. I'm really happy with how it turned out.

I had plans to add little circles suspended from the shorter trees but that would just be a nightmare to untangle next year. So all of my tiny circles (and tiny trees) are at my sister's house waiting to become a coordinating tree garland.