Hello, I’m back! We are, if you can believe it, in New Jersey on sabbatical. (At least, my husband is on sabbatical, and unofficially I am too.) My boys are now five and two-and-a-half, and with my husband on sabbatical, I’m getting a great deal more time to work on my novel (more on that another time).
This is just a brief announcement that I’m resuming blogging, and that I’ve re-opened my Etsy store! (Link on the right) (Yes, I know that Etsy is drifting over to the Dark Side, but it’s still my best option for getting started selling after a long hiatus, so…) For now only the digital items are for sale, but I shall shortly be listing some jewelry (designed and made by yours truly) and perhaps some new needlework patterns, if things go well.
Glad to be back, and looking forward to posting more soon. Stay tuned!
I haven’t posted here in ages, so, here’s a fun fact about how I manage to have a crafting life in spite of – also around, alongside, and even with – my two small children.
I spread my projects around the house (in bags that close), sorted by two criteria: can I do X while watching the kids, and, can X be left in the same room with them when I’m not there?
The answer to the first question depends pretty much on two things: first, does it require the sewing machine? A “yes” to that question means it has to stay in the craft room and be done while someone else watches the kids. These are the projects that get the least time and attention, although, of course, use of the sewing machine usually means I make the quickest progress on them when I CAN get the time. Second, does the project require any kind of care around it, such as, for example, having lots of bits and pieces that can easily be spilled everywhere, or, for another, being an heirloom quilt that must not on any account get jam on it? If it does, it can’t be done while watching the kids. (At least, not while watching MY kids.)
So the things that can be done while watching the kids are mostly knitting and crochet, and very occasionally some embroidery on a stand that stays on the dinner table. So far this has only been blackwork and cross stitch, pattern-based embroideries with cotton threads and cotton fabrics, that require a minimum of focus. Designing can also be done while watching the kids, provided they cooperate, and of course online craft shopping can be done anywhere.
As for the second question (can X be left in the room with them when I’m not there), that fits an even smaller subset of projects. Often it depends on what kind of day we’re having, and it’s constantly changing as the kids develop and their curiosity (and ability to unzip things) waxes and wanes. It used to be safe to leave my big purple knitting bag in the living room for two minutes with a three-year-old who never got into anything he wasn’t supposed to, and a baby who was just learning to crawl. Now I have a four-year-old who feels entitled to get his own crackers out of the pantry, and a toddler who thinks my knitting bag is a comfy chair that’s just his size. For the time being, the projects I can safely leave in the living room while I go to the bathroom has pretty much shrunk to zero.
Things that meet some of these criteria but not others mostly live in my bedroom, which is on another floor, and where the kids never get left unsupervised. I work on these things during naps, after the kids have gone to bed, during husband-sponsored breaks, and often while Husband and I are watching TV together after the kids are asleep. These projects are mostly cross stitch, English paper piecing, and hand-quilting, although knitting often crosses into the TV-time as well.
In this way I have managed to continue to knit, crochet, embroider, even quilt. There’s been a lot of handwork in the last four years. I’ve always preferred to have a lot of irons in the fire, and lots of projects at different stages; that way, no matter what I’m in the mood for, there’s always something suitable to do. And when I feel like I need to get crazy, I start something new!
Of course, when you have a bunch of projects and only a small amount of time to spread among all of them, it can be maddening how slowly they all go, and how rare it becomes to actually FINISH something. Once in a while I have to do something small just for the dopamine rush of getting something done. And sometimes, it all gets overwhelming: the number of things I have in progress, the number of things I plan to do but haven’t started, the towering heap of artistic ambitions I long to work toward, and the terrible contrast between all those golden possibilities and the pittance of time and energy that I currently have to put toward any of it. Sometimes I struggle with feeling like there’s no point to even trying at this stage of my life.
What helps right then is knowing that there are people who believe in me, and remembering the times in my life when I realized that the only thing that would make me feel better was making something beautiful. Creating is part of who I am, and that means it can never really be taken away. Strip away my time, my energy, my craft room, even my stash: I’ll still find a crochet hook or a pencil, and if I have to start unravelling sweaters to get yarn to knit with, well, I’d hardly be the first. People would probably start buying me yarn just to keep me away from their closets. (A whole new way to build my stash… hmm…)
This too shall pass. And in the meantime, I have knitting to do.
Sometimes, as a stay-at-home-mom, I really struggle with how prosaic and mundane my life has become.
I have two masters degrees. I’ve learned to read five languages. I’ve translated The Iliad and Genesis and Beowulf and debated theology and metaphysics. I’ve travelled, and taught, and built websites, and won prizes, and written two drafts of a novel. And now I spend my days doing laundry and dishes and changing diapers and trying to fit in me-time and writing time around keeping two small children alive. Sleep and showers optional.
And the thing of it all is, I BELIEVE in the value of staying at home with my kids. Nobody forced me to do this. In fact, it’s an expensive luxury for me NOT to be working and bringing in an income, and it means that we can’t always make ends meet. I BELIEVE in being here for my boys while they’re really little, grounding them in the idea that home is safe and steady, that Mama and Daddy will always be there when they need us. Besides, how could I bear to miss all their little moments? Crawling and standing and first words, smiles and tears and staring raptly at the washing machine. And even after all the times I’ve struggled with the routine and the endless chores (and the weeks when it seemed like there was way too much poop in my life) and the sense of being trapped in my own home, I still believe this was the right thing for us.
The only mistake I made was thinking that because I believe in doing this, and love my kids, that would make it all easy. (I did, you know. In retrospect, I realized at one point that I really did believe (before our first was born) that my love for my children would make it all effortless. Ha, ha ha, ha ha.)
Sometimes it does, thank God. Sometimes, when my baby wakes up at two in the morning crying, all I care about is making sure that he’s okay, and if I get to go back to sleep afterwards, that’s a bonus. Sometimes I’m walking my oldest to nursery in the morning, and holding his hand as he walks happily beside me, reading the numbers off of license plates and naming the kinds of trucks that go by, and for those twenty minutes everything is just fine. Sometimes the three-year-old and the one-year-old are both climbing on me, having a grand old time, and I can’t help laughing, and looking around and noticing that what I wanted most in the whole world has come to pass: I am a mother.
And I remember the five long years when I didn’t know if I ever would be, and I am warmed and relieved and grateful and full of love and gladness.
Probably the one thing that has surprised me most about being a parent, is how often I now have overpowering conflicting emotions about things. It can be true at the exact same time that I love my kids so much I would walk into fire for them, and if I have to take care of them for one more minute I am going to lose it. I can be completely fed up of changing two kids’ worth of diapers, and terrified of starting potty training. I can be resolutely holding my baby tight to keep him still while he gets a shot, and crying inside as he wails from the pain. The struggles come and go; there are hard days and peaceful days, happy minutes and crisis minutes.
I guess that’s just how it is when your heart is beating in someone else’s chest.
I was going to announce today that my Lightning Bolt knitting pattern is for sale in my Etsy shop (which it is), but instead I’m announcing that I’m about to join the Etsy strike.
I just became aware of this petition: “Etsy: Cancel the fee increase. Work with sellers, not against us!” It’s protesting a number of serious grievances against Etsy’s current and planned policies, including unjustifiable hikes in transaction fees, random shop shutdowns without warning, little or no support for sellers from the parent company, and a refusal to crack down on mass-produced goods that weren’t even designed by the sellers, which have been against Etsy rules from the beginning.
I’ve been an Etsy seller since 2009, never in a big way, but I chose it for the same reasons many other people did. It was affordable, it was easy, and it allowed me to reach a big audience without a big advertising budget. Since the company went public, seller’s fees have been hiked even though the company’s profits are soaring, policies have become ever more exploitative, and there’s been little or no mechanism for the community of sellers to protest or resist. All these decisions show a transparent preference for short-term profits for Etsy at the expense of the sellers who have made the platform what it is. I’ve signed the petition, and I’ll be joining the strike, April 11-18.
If you’re interested in supporting the Resistance, please click on the link above and sign the petition. Consider spreading the word to your friends or followers, and joining the strike. You don’t have to be an Etsy seller to sign, or to strike; you can boycott Etsy during the strike period, or even better, buy something today before the fees go up! Support a small business owner!
I only have a few listings on Etsy, so I have the option to leave pretty painlessly if things don’t get better. But there are a lot of people who have invested in their shops so much they depend on it for their livelihood. For their sake, please consider doing what you can to protest.
I want to thank everyone who’s still reading my site while I’ve been absent for so long. I’m delighted to announce that there are some new things in the works! I’m expanding my designs to a couple new platforms, including, today: Ravelry! If you’re not familiar, it’s a fantastic online database of knitting and crochet patterns, both free and for sale, information about yarns, and great tools to help keep track of your patterns, projects, and stash. I’ve just posted my first knitting pattern for sale: Lightning Bolt, a Vertical Chevron Hat!
Modeled by my lovely sister-in-law, Kester Limner.
So I had this beautiful yarn, three balls of Noro Kureyon that I bought on impulse sometime last year, and I wanted a pattern to really showcase the color change. In the wonderful “Knitting Noro” book, I found a pattern for a long chevron scarf that perfectly fit the bill. I tried the Kureyon next to a lot of things in my stash before choosing this beautiful Malabrigo Rios as a dark contrast color.
As I was starting the second ball of Kureyon, I mentioned to my husband that I was going to have enough yarn to make either a really long scarf, or a matching hat. He asked me, “Could you make it so that the chevron goes around your head vertically?”
What a challenge! I had a look around the internet, and couldn’t find any pattern that seemed to do it (my apologies if someone out there has done it), so I set out to design it myself. (Designing something to a challenge is my very favorite craft-activity.) Of course I’m learning that if something has never been done before, there are usually reasons why not. It took a few tries to figure out whether to start or end the first row with the ribbing, how to shape the crown, etc.; I unraveled it about six times and started again, but that’s a pretty usual part of my process. I didn’t expect it to end up slouchy, but in the end I’m really happy with how it looks!
A couple friends from my knitting group were kind enough to read two drafts of the pattern for me, and offered some really helpful feedback. I’d written instructions for cross-stitch patterns and a quilted pillow once, but this is the first knitting pattern I’ve ever made. And now it’s available to buy! You can find it by clicking on its name above. I’ll also be posting it in my Etsy shop in the next few days.
Stay tuned for another announcement of how I’m getting my designs out there. Thanks for reading!
Hi there! I’ve been wanting to write a checking-in post for a while, and today the stars finally aligned and I had both time and energy to do it.
I want to say first that I am so thrilled and flattered by all the people who have started following and all the people who been reading, even while I didn’t post for almost a year. It’s always a wonderful surprise to check the stats and see that something I’ve produced is actually useful and interesting to others out there, and I thank you for your time and attention.
If you’re wondering where I’ve been for a year, well…
Yep. We had a pandemic baby! He’s going to be five months old next week. He’s big, and healthy, and the smiley-est little guy you ever did see. He beat his brother on birth weight by a solid two pounds, which helped to explain why the pregnancy was harder and more draining for me than my first. His big brother is two, almost three now, and adjusting to mothering the two of them has been a joyous and rocky journey. So I’m not exaggerating when I say this is almost the first time in a year I’ve had spare energy for blogging.
As you might imagine, not a huge amount of crafting is going on these days, but I’ve managed to plug away at a few things during naps, after bed-time, and on the occasional dad-sponsored sanity break. I decided a few months ago to pull this long-term English paper piecing project together…
I used to prep a couple of these blocks before a trip and then baste and sew them on planes.
I’m knitting a completely unnecessary scarf from the two most expensive yarns in my stash…
Chevron Scarf from “Knit Noro,” in Noro Kureyon and Malabrigo Rios
And, although I realize as I type this that I don’t have a picture of it yet, I’m hand-quilting a quilt that my husband’s grandmother asked me to finish. Her sister made the top, but passed away some years ago, and Grandma wanted to see it complete. It’s a very classic Drunkard’s Path, blue on a white background; I’m hand-quilting it very simply (although I wish I could long-arm it, but, you know, no long-arm). I’ve had it for almost three years now, but it’s time to get it done, because…
We’re going back to the States for Christmas!!!
It’s been almost two years since we’ve been home, and even once we’d decided to go, things were deeply uncertain for weeks while we worked to get the baby’s passport and visa, and then waited to see if they’d get processed in time. But now all that is done, and the tickets are bought, and I’m figuring out how to get our COVID tests done, and soon we shall fly!
As you might imagine, I’m totally stoked about spending eight hours in a closed metal tube with my toddler, my baby, and several dozen strangers (in masks, yet!), but Husband will be with us, and it will be over at some point, and then, we will be with family for the holidays.
As the song goes, I’ve got plenty to be thankful for.
Nobody and nothing can cancel Christmas. During famines and plagues past there has been Christmas. In the trenches of the World Wars they managed to have Christmas. It needs so little, to rekindle our joy at the blessed birth of Christ, a new spark of hope in a dark and weary world: the telling of the story; the giving of a gift (no matter how poor or abstract); the lighting of a candle; the singing of a half-remembered song. Let us all remember the lesson of the Grinch. We learned as children that Christmas is still Christmas without ribbons, boxes, bags, or roast beast, and there will be too many people this year who have to do without any of that.
Let us learn the harder lesson now, that Christmas is still Christmas without parties, without friends, even without family. The hope that darkness will pass, that spring will come again, that God is doing something wonderful and new, in some humble place out of sight, is something we can all celebrate. It’s never more important than in dark times. And even if we could only sing one song and light one candle, all the darkness in the world could not snuff it out.
I received an email through the blog several weeks ago from one Caroline Biggs, who said she was writing an article for Martha Stewart Living about how to hang a quilt. She said she’d seen my tutorial on How to Hang a Quilt with Command Strips, and could she include it and quote me as an expert? Uh… yes! So she sent me some questions, and I wrote replies, and now I’m in a magazine! Almost a month later, and I’m still amazed.
But, as you might have gathered from the title, the true purpose of this post is to announce that my Fitz Stitch Piece is complete, and submitted!
Here it is, pinned to a piece of cardboard for shipping. The background is a 400 thread-count white cotton, layered on cotton batting and machine quilted.
Once I was finished with the fish, I faced up to my next problem. I’d been planning the whole time to mount the pieces for the design onto the fabric with no visible stitches. I decided to use a technique I’d learned a few years ago from a tutorial on Modern Handcraft for modern hexies. It basically requires folding fabric around a template, steaming it so it holds the shape, popping the template out, and then gently gluing the resulting hexagon onto your background. Of course, this would work with all sorts of shapes, but I wasn’t sure it would give me the sharp edges that I wanted.
There are so many problems with trying to make anything in fabric look three dimensional. You can go full 3-D, which may be effective or may look really weird, or you can try for forced perspective, which again, very difficult to make it look good. I decided that, for this hand, with the techniques I know (which absolutely do not include convincing three-dimensionality), the only thing for it was to do it understated, flat pieces with lines that implied shape, and nice crisp edges so that it would read as a hand from across the room.
And then it occurred to me: what if I made templates for the hand, that didn’t have to come out?
So I made the templates out of heavy-duty fusible interfacing, the kind you use for bags.
I fused the templates to my purple cotton, cut them out with seam allowance, dug out my American Clover iron and my voltage converter, and very carefully folded the edges around each template and glued them down with Glue-Baste-It. (Which is one of my very favorite quilting tools; makes piecing and machine binding so much more precise!) You can see the three fingers that are finished in the picture above.
I did the same thing with the extra pieces of glass that are being re-assembled, and I embroidered a few wrinkles on the purple glove to kind of imply a shape. (Stem stitch, one strand of midnight blue DMC embroidery floss. The stem stitch made the curved lines slightly thicker in the middle, tapered at the ends, which was great.)
But for the fish itself, I wanted it to pop just a little bit more, and seem closer to the viewer than the pieces in the background. So, I added a layer of batting underneath the interfacing. Then, I carefully positioned my pieces on the quilted background (I so did not want to make all these elements all over again!), and glued them down with Fabri-Tac. (It’s a little thick and strings as it starts to dry (which it does really fast), so I might dilute it slightly next time. But it did make a great bond!)
Since the thumb had to rise slightly off the background, and couldn’t be fully glued down, I added a piece of black cotton to the underside, glued on with the edges turned under, just so no raw edges would be exposed. I’m sure no one’s ever going to see it, but I know it’s there.
Once I’d done this much, I knew exactly how much space I had left for my other blue glass pieces. (I confess I never bothered with drawing a complete sketch to life-size, since I knew I was going to handle it this way.) I made some decisions about rounded corners vs. sharp, and whether I felt like making a bit of tail for the fish. And I decided, this time, less is more. Let the original museum piece be the star of this square.
And there we are.
I also added some “distressing” with French gray Prismacolor on the blue pieces, to try and convey a sense of age, and it’s convincing in person, but I found it was all but impossible to photograph. So, that’s the way that goes.
And that wraps up a project that’s been on my mind, one way or another, since June. I’m REALLY pleased with how it turned out. The squares are all being sent to a master quilter to be assembled into a single piece; the Fitzwilliam’s Education Team has said they plan to display the finished quilt sometime next spring, and when I know the official opening date, I’ll pass it on.
For now, my tutoring job has abruptly picked up (now that I’ve been added to the part of the site where I can answer student questions and read essay drafts), and I’ve had kind of a bumpy ride the last few days getting up to speed on their protocols and paperwork, but it seems to be smoothing out. Crafting-wise, I’m planning to resume work on my blackwork patterns, which fell by the wayside when the house purchase started to pick up (which is thankfully going very well, btw). You should see the letter “W” up in my Etsy shop soon, and after that I’ll be adding letters as I complete them. I’ll try to check back in in a week or two.
So I decided a few weeks ago that I needed to re-design my piece for Fitz Stitch. This was motivated by two realizations: first, I wasn’t sure that I could make the broken fish platter as well as I wanted with my current technical skills; second, that I’d maybe wandered too far from the original piece from the museum collection that inspired me.
So I went back to that piece.
This exquisitely detailed fragment is a piece of Egyptian glass from their Ptolemaic period, when Egypt was ruled by Greek kings. I found two similar fragments in the online galleries of other museums, one of which had measurements attached, which leads me to believe that this piece is only about three inches tall. The intricacy, the brilliance of the colors, the individuality of the fish; I found it arresting.
I still wanted to keep the idea of something broken being put back together by a conservator in the museum. The conservators at the Fitzwilliam use these vivid purple gloves.
So, my re-designed design is the fish piece, in the center, held by a hand in a purple glove, and behind them, more pieces of the blue glass, possibly with another piece of the fish.
I didn’t want to post about the re-design until I’d satisfied myself that I could really do it, which meant, you know, actually doing it.
I had a lot of fun combing through my stash to find color matches to the original piece.
What gave me real trouble was the yellow edges of the scales. I tried embroidering them with the chartreuse thread, but the contrast was too sharp, and I couldn’t get a smooth curve on those unusual shapes.
Then, on a rough day, I was sitting down to fold some fabrics to help myself calm down, and had a brainwave: can you draw with colored pencils on fabric?
It turns out, YOU CAN!
Here it is side by side with the original. I’m so happy with how it’s turned out!
It’s a relief to finally be at a point with this project where I’m confident that I can finish it and it will look how I wanted. Next, I’m cutting out freezer paper templates for the hand, and deciding how 3D I want to try to make it. Probably only a little.
My deadline’s coming up at the end of September, so stay tuned for updates! Thanks for reading!
What’s changed in the last two months? What hasn’t?
Our son is walking. He took his first steps at the beginning of July, and now he toddles all over the place like it’s going out of style.
The two grad students who were staying with us during the lockdown have moved out, one at the beginning of August, and the other yesterday. It’s just the three of us at the house now. We’ll miss the help they provided, and the company, but it’s also nice to have the place to ourselves again.
We’ve started the process of buying the house we’re renting. It’ll be our first home, if we succeed, which after the debacle last year, I’m maintaining an attitude of cautious optimism.
I’ve started designing a line of blackwork patterns, each one a large letter of the alphabet.
I stitched a sample, and I really like how it turned out. Once the other designs are complete, I’ll list them all in my Etsy shop. I’ve stopped making masks for the time being, and I’m taking the shop in a more patterns and quilts direction.
I’ve also completely re-designed my Fitz Stitch piece. On reflection, and after some productive conversations, I decided I’d wandered too far from the prompt, so I took it back to the beginning and designed a new piece more in line with what originally inspired me. I’ll write a new post about that, hopefully in the next few days.
Last, but certainly not least, I just started a new job with an online tutoring firm. It’s my first job since before our son was born. We went through our financials in July, when we had finally had a normal settled month in the UK, and decided it was time for me to go back to work. I wasn’t too excited at first, and it took a while to find the right fit, but I start this week, and it feels good to be able to look forward to a paycheck and teaching again.
As for what I’ve been making…
Blackwork sampler
Mini quilt
Knit Swirl Sweater
From the book “Knit, Swirl!” by Sandra McIver. This has been my mindless knitting that I do in front of the TV, or during Mah Jong, as pictured here. These sweaters have cascade necklines and long lengths, swirling out from neck to knee in one giant hem. They’re knitted in one piece, so you actually start by casting on the giant hem: in this case, 601 stitches. From there you decrease inward, then knit the back, and the sleeves, all the way up to the neck. I’m knitting the sleeves now, so the thing overflows my lap. In a couple weeks, it might actually be done!
So yes, there’s a lot going on in our lives right now, but it’s also a good time. We’ve been living in the same place for six months and don’t expect to have to move for years. We’re still healthy, and building a good life. My quilt guild is starting to have in-person meetings again this month, and I hope I’ll be able to go. We’re even beginning to discuss when our families might be able to visit again; it probably won’t be until January or later, but at least it’s on the horizon.
We’re grateful for some order in the chaos. Here’s hoping things are improving for you too.
It kills me that the next round of Marvel movies have all been pushed back, for the trifling reason that people can’t go to movie theatres.* How am I supposed to wait two more years for another “Doctor Strange” movie? And the “Black Panther” sequel? Not to mention finding out how Natalie Portman can possibly be Thor. Sigh.
*Sarcasm, I promise. We’re taking the pandemic very seriously.
I’ve begun to make progress again toward the third draft of my novel. Oh, haven’t I mentioned that I’m writing my first novel? The seed of the idea first came to me when I was seventeen, and I wrote fragments and thought about it in off-moments for YEARS, and completely re-invented the whole framework about three times, and then in 2014 I finally sat down to write a complete first draft. It took a year.
And then it took another four years to get to a second draft. I finished it (for some definition of “finished”) last August, when my son was seven months old. (I’d only been about a chapter and a half away when he was born, so it didn’t take too long once I had time to put my mind to it.) I gave the second draft, inconsistent and full of holes, to my husband, his sister, and his mother to read. They gave me encouraging feedback, and basically told me that I needed to write more of it. Then a whole lot of life happened, and finally last month I found my hard copy of the second draft, and started to work on the third draft.
I’m reading the second draft straight through and working toward the third draft at the same time. There are some significant structural problems with the second draft, and massive pacing problems, and there’s something essential missing from the middle that I don’t know what is. I made myself crazy for about three weeks trying to figure all this out, and I did make some good lists of questions and fill a corkboard with index cards…
…but after a while I started feeling like I was chasing my tail in five different circles. I just wasn’t ready to figure all these things out yet, certainly not all at once.
Thankfully my mother-in-law got me untangled again. I was telling her about how I felt stuck and something was missing and I wasn’t getting anywhere, and she suggested I should try writing some chapters from other characters’ points of view.
My imagination lit afire. Immediately I could see how Chapter 7 could be better from Augustus’s point of view, how 12 could be better from Finn’s, the prologue from Flora’s. My book has a big cast, and the many perspectives this idea offered might help me to think from different angles, try something new, shake things loose that might help to address the big problems that I couldn’t figure out in the abstract.
My husband and I have recently agreed that I should have a weekly four-hour block when I can work on my book uninterrupted. Things so fell out that last week, I couldn’t find time for it until Friday, and then I had a spasm of trying to figure out all the big abstract problems again, and began chasing my tail. And I was feeling so miserable that it finally hit me. “Enough!” I said to myself. “Just start writing!”
And I sat down and started five different chapters from five different points of view and wrote a total of 2,500 words in less than four hours. I had a blast! It was such a relief to let my imagination go, try out different perspectives and voices, and just to write again.
There are always a million things I want to do, and one of the things that’s difficult about trying to do them with a toddler in the house is that any progress has to be agonizingly slow. It can even feel sometimes like I’ve tried something, and it hasn’t helped me, when all that’s really happened is that I haven’t had time to actually do it yet. My “apparent lack of progress” can be really discouraging, because my sense of what I should be able to accomplish in a given amount of time, bears no relationship to what I actually can fit in around a toddler and a house and life in general. It was really important to realize that my expectations were wildly unrealistic, because then I could cut way down on the stress about not getting very much accomplished.
I’m also trying to remember that this is just one season of my life, when my son is small, and there are aspects that just have to be survived, along with the ones that must be cherished. Right now most of my responsibility is to him, and in some ways that’s a lot harder than I’d expected, but in some ways it’s also better than I’d hoped. He’s getting bigger all the time, and it gives me so much joy that he’s always really happy to see me. I get to be here while he learns, and plays, and can walk but still prefers to crawl. I get to rock him in the chair every night. The truth is, he’s so good at entertaining himself, and usually such a regular napper, I’m lucky to get as much time for my own projects as I do.
I’ve often said about teaching, that a professor’s expectations of their students should be high, but attainable. Is there anything harder than taking your own advice?
The Velvet Pincushion 