What a Life!

I’ve put up some new pictures over at flickr so you can wander on over there if you’re interested…

We went to the county fair on Friday and all I have to say is that I so should have entered some of my photos. You know, when you visit photography forums and tutorial sites online, you get an idea of what good photos are supposed to be. Well, I only saw two that I thought were actually interesting – one got a ribbon, the other didn’t. The rest of them were not very impressive at all (in my humble opinion, of course).

I also entered six of my photos in the state fair. Here’s the rundown:

Color prints – Candid: Three Brands of Happy

Color prints – People – Candid, preschool children: Workaholic

Color prints – People – Candid, preschool children: Wanna read a story?

Color prints – Still Life – Patterns/Textures: Cables

Black and white prints – People – Candid: Quiet Observer

Black and white prints – People – Candid: Watching the Birds

Of course, I remember the photos displayed at the Nebraska State Fair as being far more impressive that what I saw at the county fair the other day so I certainly am not planning on winning any ribbons or anything.

I only entered one knitting item…these socks. I need to block them, but I have until the end of the month.

For some reason I’ve been in a slump lately. I don’t know if I’m worn out because I have lots of irritating things (such as the one discussed yesterday) or if I’m having a hard time coping with such simple problems because I am simply worn out.

There has been little knitting going on lately. It seems everything I have on the needles I’m either tired of or is too complicated to suffice for mindless knitting, which seems to help me maintain my sanity.

• I finished the front of St. Brigid but have not cast on for the sleeves – I’m kind of tired of that project right now.
• I have a little sweater that needs to be assembled, and while I generally enjoy assembling things, since this is an original design, it simply requires too much thought. I want to experiment with a different type of seam as well as a new edging. Since I did not know if I had enough yarn, I did not swatch, which only adds further drama and complexity.
• I finished my pair of socks for May and June but indecision was in the way of starting a new pair.
• The Charcoal Slog-Along needs some fixing before I continue on. I think the neck in front is too deep and I need to re-work it (my original calculations were perhaps not correct and I did not take into account the added depth due to the short rows at the shoulders). Then I started a sleeve for the same project but after completing half of the increases, I have only a third of the length, so I need to go back and re-work it with a different spacing of the increases. And quite frankly, the Charcoal Slog-Along is so entirely boring that just the monotony alone makes me detest it. I see all these wonderful sweaters that I could knit my husband, but then I fear he may not like them because they are not plain enough. This sweater is stockinette except for the bands on the neckline, sleeve cuffs, and the waistband. All I have to say is, Never again! Either my husband will wear sweaters that were interesting to knit or he will not wear hand-knit sweaters.

I’ve taken some pictures that might be interesting to post, but they are still in my camera. I don’t want to download pictures from my camera if I’m not going to back them up, and my back-up routine is in hiatus due to my having exceeded the memory I was paying for to backup online. I’m too cheap to pay more, and I found some external hard drives that cost about the same as a year’s worth of service for the original amount of space I was using, but I have not set them up yet because that requires thinking. I don’t seem to be very good at thinking right now. That plus my lack of love for my camera right now has removed photography from my list of interesting things to do.

I went though my pictures last night to see if there were any I wanted to enter in the Nebraska State Fair. I did find a handful that I may enter in categories such as Down On the Farm, Candid (preschool children), and Black and White – People – Candid. At first I had no idea what I might enter – I mean, what makes a great photo for a competition? My purpose is photography is usually to capture candid moments of my children in a photojournalistic sort of way (aka memories). But are those types of photos of interest to anyone else?

I have kind of developed my own feel for composition. I really like ideas in the composition articles over at Petteri’s Pontifications. But when I look back through my photos, the inner critic doesn’t have many nice things to say. Photos that I’ve picked out that I may enter include this one, this one, this one or one of the photos in this collage. I have great candids far as getting great expressions on people’s faces, but there’s always something dumb in the background. My photos would come out so much better if my house was immaculate – perfectly tidy – at all times. Having the 50mm/1.8 lens on a digital Rebel would help me get in close and blur the background with the short depth of field (inspired by this article and others over at Petteri’s Pontifications), but I still really should have the background in better order so that it does not ruin my candid shots. When you’re shooting candids, background is not the main concern, but you don’t know how many pictures with perfect expressions on my boys faces I had to pass by due to some stupid toy or other distracting object in the background, which I am sure would affect my score in a photographic competition. Ugh!

I finally did cast on something that fits the bill for mindless yet interesting knitting – a pair of boring 2/2 rib socks for my husband. They would be the epitome of boringness, second only to the Charcoal Slog-Along, except that I’m knitting them toe-up and doing a heel-flap which generally you only do top-down so pondering how exactly I am going to execute that gives me something interesting to ponder while I knit. I had bought the yarn to take one more stab at knitting socks for my husband – none of the others stayed up, but I have since discovered half-twisted rib where I twist the purl stitches and my socks stay up much better when I do that. It’s a tweedy sock yarn, and I fear that he may not like the flecks (not plain enough, you know), but he’s just going to have to get over it. I have about eight inches completed on one sock and am working on the gusset, which is the beginning of the really interesting part.

We are going over to Iowa for Steve’s graduation Saturday morning. He’ll officially be getting his Masters in Agronomy from Iowa State. I am realizing that I do not have a gift for him (other than sitting through a long ceremony with two small children, perhaps?). The sock and sweater I am working on for him will certainly not be done on time. I could make him pie when we get back – Steve loves pie and I have the ingredients to make his favorite – Cherry Pie. I’m feeling like a very lame wife, though. No gift along with a lack of enthusiasm for doing something touristy and staying in a hotel in another state with two small children. The mere thought of it makes me feel tired, but Steve is always complaining that we don’t do anything “fun” anymore. So we’ll be doing “fun” things over in Iowa just for him.

I got my new Vogue Knitting earlier this week and now today my Interweave Knits arrived. I am so wanting to go buy new yarn for a project in one of those magazines so I could knit an interesting project and just follow instructions rather than strain my brain to design something. But I hate to spend money on yarn, especially the kind of yarn they feature in those magazines. I have champagne tastes but find myself on a very tight beer budget. And would knitting a new and interesting project that did not overly tax my mental resources really get me out of this slump? I don’t know, I don’t know…

Right now, though, I need to go do something productive, like tidy the house so I don’t take any more bad pictures…

Please excuse my break from posting – I am berating myself for being such a coward…over and over and over again.

Case in point: People are more important than dogs.

Situation: Over at someone else’s house where there are two yappy, in-your-face, poodles that race around and jump on you like pesky flies – make that pesky horse flies (the ones that bite). When these poodles jump up on me, their front claws land on my thigh, close to the top. When they jump on my four-year-old…where do you think their claws hit?

So my children have never been fond of these dogs, but they have never been terrified of them either. Last weekend, however, my dear, cautious Ben, all of a sudden during the middle of our visit, became terrified of the dogs. As in, screaming hysterically, yelling for Mommy, crying frantically…you know, terrified.

Take 1: Dog owner #1 immediately takes the dogs and sends them outside. Child calms down.

Take 2 (a few hours later, we return to home where dogs live): Dog owner #2 (the one who really owns the dogs – you can be married and have “joint” ownership but things can actually belong to one person more than the other, if you know what I mean) is present this time, rather than just Dog owner #1. Dog owner #2 is told that child is deathly afraid of dogs and sends the dogs outside when child arrives. A few moments later, Dog owner #2 allows the dogs to come back inside. Child’s reaction is immediate terror – crying, screaming hysterically, downright scared to death of dogs.

Rather than banishing the dogs from the room immediately (I really don’t care where they go – outside, upstairs to the bedroom, out to the garage, the bathroom…just somewhere else, okay?), Dog owner #2 and others in the room made the following statements in random order (as in, I don’t remember what order, but I heard all of them):

• Dogs have already been outside for three hours today. [Real story] Dogs were in fenced backyard where they could run freely; weather is 80 degrees and sunny with an occasional breeze. Some dogs like outside all the time and are never allowed inside. [I kept my silence.]
  
• Child was not afraid of the dogs last time we visited. [My response…the gist of what I actually say…] Child was not afraid of dogs when we first arrived today either, but apparently some incident occurred that no one actually saw which caused child to all of a sudden be absolutely terrified of said dogs.
• Child is not afraid of neighbors dog. [Again, my response.] Neighbor’s dog is a laid-back, easy going dog – not a yappy, hyper dog that runs up to people and jumps on them incessantly.
  
• Child is not afraid of [our] cat. [Yet again, my response.] Again, a cat is not a hyper, yappy dog. Cat’s don’t jump up on you. In fact, said cat is so gentle that she allows dogs to chew on her – she has not even been known to scratch said child when he is rough with her.
  
• [People in room try to reason with child and tell him there is nothing to be afraid of.] You do not reason with a child that is terrified and screaming and hanging onto his mother for dear life. Sorry. Nope. Doesn’t work. [But I don’t say that. Instead…] I point out that said child has a fresh scratch on his nose which, considering where the dog’s claws hit when they jump on me, could very well be from one of the dogs. If a dog was running around all hyper and barking and jumping up on you and scratching your face with its claws, would you be scared?

Still, no one makes any move to remove the dogs from the room. In fact, Dog owner #2 who had been holding the most hyper-pesky dog tells the still screaming, hysterical, holding-onto-his-mother-for-dear-life child that she is putting the dog down and that he should not be afraid. Of course, the child’s frantic crying and screaming only makes him more interesting to the dogs and they will not leave him alone.

So what do I do? I take my child and I go outside with him. As in, the people leave the room while the dogs stay. Because apparently to some people, dogs are more important than people.

Then while we’re outside eating our pizza while everyone else is inside, watching the NASCAR race (I’m an avid fan) and enjoying adult conversation (something which I get very little of, it seems), Dog owner #2 decides to feed [blank-blank-blank] dogs.

The dogs, of course, are too interested in the company to be interested in their food. In fact, the only interest in the food is from the baby, who keeps having to be redirected because he keeps going over to the dog food and trying to pick it up which may lead to putting it in his mouth. Hello? Hello? Hello?

Finally, everyone is done eating and we leave because we need to go home and put our children to bed. My dear husband asks me why I am so quiet.

I tell him, Because in my opinion, people are more important than dogs.

He agrees.

Still, I berate myself for not telling the [blank-blank-blank] Dog owner (#2, of course) where exactly to take the [blank-blank-blank] dogs.

And that, my friends, is only one of many situations this week in which I have been a coward and for which I am berating myself for not doing a better job of being more assertive and standing up for myself and my children.

I am such a coward.

Ben has just informed me that he needs a new camera…a black one like Mommy’s…so he can take pictures of Joey crawling…

[The picture above was taken when Ben got his new camera, a gift from my parents when they visited back in April]

I took Ben to our family physician yesterday for his annual exam. It’s kind of like my report card as a mother every year. He is officially 4 years old, weighs 40 lbs. and is 40 inches tall. Height is 50th percentile, weight is 75th…but we’re not worried because he does not watch TV at all so he’s not a couch potato or anything. He’s just a solid little boy.

His eating issues are pretty much resolved. A brief history…he didn’t eat anything but breastmilk until he was well over a year old – try as I might, he just refused to do anything other than what he was accustomed to. He now feeds himself and will eat most anything you give him, including finger foods, with some normal hesitation with new foods. In fact, last weekend we grilled steaks for supper and he wanted some and now he likes steak. We cut it up for him, of course, but I’m telling you, it’s a day I never thought I would see. Our doctor’s theory has always been that his food issues were all in his head, that there was no medical reason for him not eating, and I must admit, we agree.

Speaking of new foods…he went over to a friends house while I ran some errands one day this week and was introduced to chocolate milk. He wanted more when we got home, but I told him that was something he could enjoy at his friend’s house, that we didn’t have at our house. I told him how I had to go over to the neighbor’s for apple juice when I was a little girl because my mommy didn’t buy it, and he accepted that as an answer. So ask him about chocolate milk and he’ll tell you that’s something he gets at Jacob’s house.

Then with the talking thing…I told the doctor that a year ago, he was still mispronouncing a lot of things. I remember him calling the Mars vehicles “kuks” when we went to Kennedy Space Center in May. Now he says “trucks” perfectly. The only glitch remaining is the letter L, which makes words like clock rather interesting. But I am sure that in time, that will take care of itself too.

I mentioned the potty training thing – that we had finally gotten him out of diapers but that he still poops in his pants. I told the doctor that my theory is that once he learns to go on his own and follow the cues of his body rather than going because we remind him, that will take care of itself. Our doctor did not disagree.

It was kind of fun to take Ben to an annual appointment and not have “issues” I was worried about. The eating thing has just been a thorn in my flesh. Other kids eat all sorts of stuff at playgroup, but Ben has always been different. Now he’s more like the crowd, though last week when the hosting mom served cinnamon rolls, all the other kids had them but Ben kept playing and I didn’t bother to interrupt the fun he was having enjoying all the toys by himself. He certainly could have eaten a cinnamon roll, but he doesn’t know what they are, and they’re sticky messy, and I was happy not to have to bother with the mess. He’ll learn about cinnamon rolls soon enough.

And the talking thing. When he was two, that’s when the speech therapists say that fifty vocabulary words and two-word sentences are a minimum baseline, and anything less than that needs serious therapy. Ben had said maybe a total of ten different words, and if uh-oh counts as a two-word sentence, he had met that requirement. But our doctor, who has thirteen children of his own, said his oldest didn’t talk at all until he was two and no one could understand him until he was four, but of all his children, he thinks that child is the most intelligent. Then he also had a little boy who spoke complete sentences at sixteen months, which was absolutely amazing. So our doctor’s theory is that each child has their own schedule, and Ben was just being Ben so we didn’t need to worry about it. He is a reserved little boy, and the lack of speaking does fit his personality.

We may have worried about it, but we never took him to a speech therapist. I mean, I’m glad that we have speech therapists, and I am sure that many children benefit from speech therapy. But I think in today’s society, we’re so quick to treat anything that isn’t 50th percentile. Children have their own pace when it comes to development. The “book” is based on averages, so every child is not going to follow the official timeline exactly. My thing is, if a child is suffering on account of not being up to speed – like other kids are teasing him or his self-esteem is somehow suffering because he can’t do what everyone else is doing or if he’s grossly behind in many areas, then go ahead and get help for him as that’s what it’s there for.

But if a child is developing normally but on a little different schedule, I cringe at the thought of making them think they’re “different” by taking them to a therapist. I think children need to be treated like their “normal” as much as possible. If you expect them to act a certain way, they will (as a general rule). But if you expect them to have issues and problems and are always taking them to therapists to get help, they’re going to go through life thinking that’s normal and they won’t achieve things they might otherwise have achieved had they not known that they were “different” and had “issues” and supposedly couldn’t do things like other people.

If you think you can, you can; if you think you can’t, you’re right.

So now at our house, we have a running joke that had we taken Ben to speech therapy, the speech therapist would have taken credit for helping him to speak correctly, which is something he’s figured out on his own, for all practical purposes.

Again, there certainly is a time and a place for speech therapy, and I’m so glad it is available for the children who need it. We did rule out issues such as hearing before deciding we would let Ben be Ben and go at his own pace. Every parent has to decide what is best for their child and weigh the various aspects of the situation. In my opinion, the child’s parents are the ones who are best qualified to make a gut decision (with the help of good information) as to whether or not their child would benefit from seeing a therapist because a child’s parents know the child best.

So with that said, I do not judge others for choosing to take their child for therapy when we chose not to because I am not the parent of that child. I am simply presenting our story as an example of how things might turn out if you choose not to seek professional help for your child. I do know of children who have benefited from speech therapy so I’m not downing it as a profession. I just think that in today’s society, sometimes we are are too quick in running to get help for children instead of letting children be individuals, not averages.

Okay, stepping back off the soapbox now. I still am enjoying the fact that this year, I only had reports of issues resolving themselves instead of angst over whether Ben was progressing as he should be. It was so nice!

I know it’s July, the middle of the summer, hottest month of the year, and you’re probably on vacation. But I’m writing you anyway because there’s something I really, really, REALLY want. Continue Reading »