This is going to be a post about Feminism.

I don't generally blog about feminism in a focused way. The way I think and feel and live and the equality philosophies that I believe in are going to seep into my personal perspective when writing. It's unavoidable, but I rarely sit down with the goal of posting specifically about feminism in itself.

The plain fact of the matter is - women who work for pay, or women who don't have children (because they haven't yet wanted to, they aren't physically able to, or they know they never want to) are familiar with the strident voices insisting they Mommy Up or Mommy Better or Mommy in the first place. And yet, a good portion of the feminist movement spends a lot of time outright villain-izing mothers (especially those who work inside the home as opposed to outside of it), completely forgets they exist, or treats them as if they can't make such choices AND consider themselves feminists. So much for solidarity of the sisterhood. Seriously, though, our society is still chock-full of patriarchal bullshit and oppression (not just from the menfolk) and there is push and pull on women from every side. You are damned by someone no matter what choices you make. Thankfully there ARE blogs out there that discuss feminist issues while being inclusive of mothers.

Feminism is not strictly reserved for college campuses or publishing houses or grass-roots women's rights organizations. The movement is furthered every time a seed is planted in a person's mind that leads to an equality-based shift in thinking. The movement is furthered in articles and conversations between people - women - mothers. The movement is furthered every time a woman exercises her freedom of choice to carve her own path in life. Yes - even when that choice is to work her ass off inside of her home instead of outside of it.

The choices I've made to love my body, respect my child's autonomy, sew my fingers raw and cook my own damn dinner are part of my personal activism. These choices were able to be made because of the freedom I claimed for myself. The fact that I write openly, honestly, and passionately about these things in a public arena, using my own name - That is also a choice, and one I'm proud of. One of my absolute favorite bloggers, Lesley Kinzel (who does not label herself as a feminist for many of these same reasons I've listed) once said, "Standing out is okay. Standing up is okay. Doing BOTH at once, well, that's activism."

Anyone who vilifies individual women's choices and lives is helping to set back feminism (and women. and mothers.) through a lack of support and solidarity. Judging individual people by making a sweeping generalization is only creating rifts where there needn't be any more. We all advocate for change in different ways! Some by getting into politics, some by writing about social change and human rights issues, some by instilling feminist values in their children, some by picketing and attending protests and city council meetings, some by bowling to raise money for feminist causes, some by living consensually and expecting their partners to be respectful and carry an equal load, some by educating themselves on the issues, some by going into midwifery or law or teaching, and... some by simply living their lives outside what is deemed "normal".

Solidarity and support of women (and their choices) is key to feminism. Full stop.

Our house is a very, very, very fine house.

Things are chugging along very nicely with the house. The developer called Seth last Friday and told him it would be done in three weeks. Sitting here now, that projected finish date is only two and a half weeks away. This time last year I couldn't have guessed that this would have been possible. In fact, I remember writing a very disheartened post just seven months ago about how sure I was that buying a house was nothing but a pipe-dream. My, how things can change. I'm starting to get into the nitty gritty of packing - kitchen cabinets, closets, junk drawers, etc. The books are already packed (which took several days of doing a couple of boxes here, a couple of boxes there). I need to disassemble our living room book shelves next, so that I can use that long wall as another place to stack the packed boxes.

It's overwhelming and surreal, but as long as I pack a few boxes each day, or tackle a specific spot in the apartment, it's getting done. I've already made two trips to GoodWill to donate things that we no longer need (my car has another load in the back of it to drop off tomorrow). Yesterday I threw away two large bags of trash, wondering how we accumulated so much stuff that we have no use for. I can't believe how I used to buy random foodstuffs in large amounts simply because they were on sale. I had to dispose of almost a dozen boxes of long-ago-expired cake mix... what a waste. I'm glad that I've gotten in the habit of instead buying what we need, when we need it.

When I left Safeway last July I just thought of it in terms of how much pay I was losing (which wasn't much, since I never got past $9/hour in 3 1/2 years of working there), but now I can look at it also in terms of how much less impulse buying I'm doing. Working in a grocery store can really drain your wallet if you're not careful. I wasn't very careful. Being frugal and, dare I say, cheap, is a skill I've spent the last year honing. I'd done it before, but out of necessity more so than out of a desire to save money for a specific goal. Being very young, very married, very much the mother of a baby, and VERY poor was quite difficult and I'd never want to re-live that experience, but I'm glad that my penny-pinching ways can now be applied to a much happier, relaxed and well-rounded life for me and my family. I'm still a little bit in disbelief that we've scrimped and saved to the point of being able to buy a house...

Here is what our little cheery house looks like in the neighborhood next to the giant muted house. The lot to the right is sold, but still empty and wooded. We aren't sure if/when the owner plans to build on it, but for now it's quiet.

I haven't been by the house since last Saturday, so I'm not sure if the counters and cupboards have been installed yet, but from what the developer told Seth, that was the next step and is supposed to be done this week. I'm not sure if the floors are technically the step before that or if they cut the linoleum to go around the counters, I've never lived in a brand new house in my life. Either way, the cabinets will be in by the end of the week!

One of the details I love most (that we got to pick ourselves) are the interior doors. They're kind of old-timey looking, with the five horizontal panels. They remind me of the doors in my Grandma Dorothy's house, which were the original doors from when it was built in the 1920's. She moved into it sometime around the mid to late 1950's and lived there until her Alzheimer's set in badly enough that she couldn't live by herself. I have very fond memories of growing up in that house (she was the one who watched me when I was small and my parents were working. After we moved to Port Angeles I spent nearly every moment of school vacation time with her in Seattle). After my parents sold her house, the next owner did a bunch of remodeling, and while the house looked really nice and stylish, they had destroyed all of it's charm and character. I'm really glad I get to have a little piece of something that reminds me of that amazing house in my own home.

The front door still has a ramp up to it, but sometime in the next couple of weeks, it will get a proper porch. The porch will be small, but hey! We'll be able to get to the door without risking death. That's always good.

If you go to the right of the front of the house and look towards the back of the property, this is what you'll see. Our property extends beyond that narrow walkway, they put that netting there to hold back the trees and brush for painting and all that. The property is on a diagonal and goes about 8 or 10 feet into those trees. Our plan is to clear out all the underbrush, but keep all of the trees. Except for maybe the skinny ones.

Add a caption

The kitchen/living room side of the house from the front. Our property is more than that narrow walkway, but they put that netting there to hold back the trees and brush for painting and all that. The property is on a diagonal and goes about 8 or 10 feet into those trees. Our plan is to clear out all the underbrush, but keep all of the trees. Except for maybe the skinny ones.

Here's the back of the house from a different view than what I've shown before. Behind where Seth is standing, we'll be installing a fence. We're thinking we'll build a very basic wood-frame fence with wire fencing stapled into it, kind of like this. Though I want to use chicken wire instead. I'm in love with that honey-comb pattern. Our reasoning for building a fence that doesn't provide any privacy is that our lot is small and we plan to utilize every last inch of space for gardening. We're going to need all the sunlight we can get and can't really afford to block any out purposely.

Plenty of light is especially important along the left side of the house, because it's so narrow. I doubt this long strip will be used for any utilitarian plants, probably just flowers and decorative bits. Seth and I have discussed all of our ground-cover options and have decided we want to do stepping stone walkways surrounded by beauty bark. Seth will lay down that protective garden fabric that keeps weeds from popping up, and we'll cut holes where we put in flowers and things. At one point we were discussing living ground-covers like this, but decided we aren't interested in maintaining something like that. We're going to have enough work to do already...

And finally, my painting plans... I know it's bright and overwhelming, but that's kind of my style, in case no one had noticed. I originally planned to paint the ceilings as well, but I'm rethinking that. My only previous experience with painting ceilings was in a place that had standard height, completely level ceilings. The ceilings in the main living area here are diagonally pitched to the center of the house... and really high up. Also, a friend pointed out that I may want to retain some of the white paint just to break things up and keep it light and airy. I think she's right. Maybe I should pretend it's simply a design decision and has nothing to do with how lazy I am. That's the ticket!

I swear, all I can talk about these days is painting and gardening and sewing curtains - I feel kind of boring and repetitive... except that I'm loving it. Seriously loving it. I've only got two curtains left to sew, one of which is the smallest in the house (kitchen window). I tackled the EIGHT FOOT LONG sliding glass door curtains in one day and I felt like my middle finger on my right hand was going to fall off and become a bloody stump. I used Ikea fabric for the curtains in the main living area and that fabric is hearty and thick, which makes pushing through it with a needle more challenging than if I was working with a knit or muslin or something. Though it's going to kick ass for light-blocking purposes when the curtains are pulled shut.

So close... so close... so close!

A Tale of Two Kiddies (or three, technically)

Seth and I were two very different children with two very different childhoods. I could go on and on, listing the ways in which our parents handled us differently, but the one that's been on my mind lately is their differences in getting our respective rooms clean.

My mother lived by the timer. She would demand that my room be cleaned before I was allowed to do anything fun, ever. It didn't matter if it was as big a deal as going to a friend's house or as small a deal as going outside to play. Every fun activity required the cleaning of my room first. She would set the timer for 10 or 15 minutes at a time and check in on me every time it went off, to see if there was visible "progress". I was a willful child, not to mention easily distracted. The timer may have worked as a fantastic motivational tool for some children, but for me... it created utter chaos. I'd clean feverishly for a couple of minutes, really putting in effort because it was a means to an end, but inevitably I'd get sidetracked by a favorite book or toy and she'd come into my room at the buzzing of the timer... She would purse her lips and shake her head and sometimes give me a few choice stern words, then out she'd go, to set the timer once more. It would happen again and again and again. I'd panic when she'd holler across the house, "The timer has five minutes left before it goes off!" and would scramble to make it look like I'd done enough cleaning - I shoved things into the bottom drawer of my dresser, tossed them into the very back of my closet, piled them up in the corner behind a piece of furniture. She'd find these stashes, not always right away, and I would be punished. This room-cleaning drama would go on for hours and hours, thus negating whatever fun activity I was striving to earn. I would cry and cry and she would be stern and angry without raising her voice (her most noble display of self-control and piety, her total and complete refusal to ever yell). The window of opportunity would close and I would feel utterly crushed by defeat and guess who would stride into my room, demanding that I still clean every nook and cranny? That woman with the timer, that's who. In times like these, I didn't think of my mom as my mother. She was my warden. I know that sounds dramatic, but I was a VERY dramatic child.

Now let's investigate the flip-side of 80's parenting:

Seth never had a room of his own; he always had to share with his little sister who was three years younger than him. Their mother did their laundry, folded it, and put it away. She picked up toys and books and vacuumed their floor. She went about cleaning the house and their room was simply a part of the house. Contrary to parenting myths and beliefs, Chris did not create lazy or slovenly children who couldn't do a damn thing for themselves. If anything, she raised a host of neat-freaks. All four of those kids are ridiculously clean. She cultivated a love of clean surroundings in a way that didn't stress those kids out or make them resent her. There was a time when I would have balked at such a practice and considered it a spoiling and coddling thing to do... but then I put together a few things in my own brain, in relation to my own childhood... and a lightbulb went off. It wasn't Seth's need to have a clean room, it was his mom's need. Expecting your child to meet your needs all of the time is going to prove fruitless in most situations. Kids are bogged down by the business of growing up, discovering themselves, following their passions and learning all these new things that adults tend to take for granted because we already know them. And yet many parents swoop in and overwhelm their children with extra responsibilities and tasks that don't even have anything to do with the child's specific needs.

There are kids out there who clean their rooms when asked with no drama to speak of. There are kids out there who clean their rooms out of an intrinsic desire to have a clean space. This is how I am as an adult, and Seth is as well. We clean all the time because we both enjoy living in a clean home. We both understand that the longer you leave something undone, the worse it's going to get and the harder it's going to be to take care of. It's funny how two very different childhoods and two very different approaches to the cleaning of a child's bedroom could lead us to the same end. We got to the same place, one of us stressed and pushed and resentful, the other relaxed and unhindered and secure. I know my mother's goal was to teach me the benefits and importance of maintaining a clean space. Seth's mother had the same goal. One mom modeled behavior and the other forced someone elses.

Now I'm a mom. I have a son who reached a good room-cleaning age a couple of years ago, about the same time that we were able to afford a rental where he could have his own proper room again. At first, I did what I knew (even though I knew how utterly shitty the whole process felt); I whipped out the timer and forced him to do something he didn't intrinsically want to do. This room-cleaning drama would go on for hours and hours, Silas would cry and cry and I would be stern and angry and raise my voice (I'm don't aspire to piety... or self-control, even). About eight months ago Seth and I had a talk (I had just finished reading Raising our Children, Raising Ourselves by Naomi Aldort) and I realized that the need for Silas' room to be clean was not his need, but ours. That was such an odd moment, when it occurred to me that I was forcing him to do something against his will, simply because I'M THE PARENT. What an abuse of power that felt like! So we've taken the pressure off of him.

This is where it gets good.

A few weeks ago Silas wanted to do something in his room (I don't even remember what) that required open space on his floor. Seth suggested to him that maybe he should clean his room first. I cringed a little, waiting for the inevitable drama and conflict and unpleasantness... and it didn't happen. Silas responded with, "Oh, that's a good idea. It's kind of messy in here." Fifteen minutes later, that room was clean. No crying, no forcing, no yelling, no hurt feelings or arbitrary punishments. He had an intrinsic desire for his room to be cleaned and he met his own need without asking for help from either of us. I swear... I'm having revelations and breakthroughs on a daily basis with this kid. He's constantly teaching me to let go.

Spring cleaning... in more ways than one.

I've been featured in a lovely treasury centered around the theme of Spring Cleaning!

I find this funny, considering I did a little bit of emotional spring cleaning today - I turned off the comments on this blog. It wasn't because of any specific person or comment. I have a feeling some people won't believe that, but it's the honest to goodness truth. It's something I'd been contemplating doing for months now and finally felt I was ready to let go... you see, I was a comment seeker, an attention whore, an approval junkie. I like knowing how many people read my posts and that's all fine and good, that's what google analytics is for. It's a great resource for finding out how many hits specific posts are getting, where visitors are being linked from, what states and cities I get the most visits from... as a research and statistics fiend, I love knowing this and tracking it. The comments, however... I'm thinking my emotional well-being may stay in-tact with a little less effort if the comments were abolished. I appreciate your feedback as readers, people, and friends. But that feedback doesn't need to be open for the whole world to see or to prove how wonderful and loved and popular I am. Ew. That's just where I'm at right now.

By all means, though, if you want to share something with me or reply to something I said - I've got email and I check it often (in a much healthier way than how often I used to check my comments, heh), so don't be completely incommunicado.

jasievangesen {at} gmail {dot} com

It's not about the "un".

Call it what you want - Unschooling, life-learning, child-led learning, immersion education, radical unschooling, natural learning, what have you. There are many names for the practice of letting your children forge their own unique education, but no matter what you decide to call it, the plain fact of the matter is that the practice has been covered in the media A LOT lately.

First, there was the segment on Discovery Health a couple of months ago that featured an attachment parenting family, a gender-neutral parenting family, and a radical unschooling family. The majority of the feedback I heard and read from the general public was along the lines of, "well, those first two families seemed pretty normal and awesome. I don't understand why they were considered so radical, but that last family? Yikes, that's crazy that their kids are educated that way!"

Now there's hubbub galore about the recent segment of Good Morning America that featured an unschooling family with two teenagers. The first part was aired on Monday and was met with outrage and complete misunderstanding from their viewers. I believe this is partially because of their blatant bias in reporting the piece and partially because this way of living is so very foreign to the average person and that makes it pretty easy to misunderstand. Many people fear what they don't understand. The feedback GMA received prompted them to bring the parents on again on Tuesday to better explain themselves, which went better than the first segment, but still didn't warrant enough time to adequately explain their position. They handled themselves with grace and patience, considering that the reason they were invited back was because the viewers were FREAKING OUT.

On the one hand, this is great - people who had never heard of unschooling are being exposed to an alternative educational philosophy that might interest them. There are surely families out there that know public schooling isn't working for their kids and want an alternative, but haven't got a clue where to start. It's like the old saying goes, "Any publicity is good publicity" - BUT, on the other hand... negative media attention could cause some states to harden up their policies regarding homeschooling. Public outrage could lead to more misunderstanding and the loss of our rights as parents and people. That's not fun to think about. I know those of us blogging about unschooling/life-learning aren't reaching the masses. We're a small, but stubborn and persistent voice. Lee Stranahan @ HuffPo, Heather @ SwissArmyWife and Tara @ TheOrganicSister have already said their peace about the GMA segment and what it means.

Heather made the point - "I think that the word Unschooling has the fundamental problem of having a negative prefix... When we talk about Unschooling in a way that says what we don’t do, people get the wrong idea."

It really needs to stop being about the "un" in unschooling. This is the most commonly used label for what we do and that's not going to change anytime soon. It may not always be the most accurate description, but it's the word most people hear when the subject is talked about. Unfortunately, when many hear the term, what they really hear is "uneducated", which couldn't be further from the truth. It really couldn't. This isn't laziness, this isn't permissiveness, unschoolers aren't hands-off parents. Quite the opposite. I've never been more involved in my son's life and learning than I have been in the past year without traditional school. I've never been more bonded to him, in-tune with his personality and interests and needs. Learning naturally is so much more effective than forced rote learning, I can tell you this from experience - not just Silas', but my own. I'm almost 30 years old and I can tell you with complete confidence that I have learned more on my own in the last 2 years than in my entire secondary school experience. I have applied the life-learning concept to my own life, much in the same way we've applied it to Silas'. How have I learned all these new things? It's simple, really; if I'm interested in learning about a concept or philosophy, acquiring a new skill, finding out more about a specific person or event in history - I google it. I buy or borrow a book about it. I watch a documentary. I read the Wikipedia entry. I ask a friend who is well-versed in the subject. It's not hard to find knowledge and apply it to your life if you possess the skills to look for it. Instilling these skills in my child is my main educational prerogative.

As an adult, I have the skills to find this info and use it, as an 8 year old, Silas is only part-way there. This is where unschooling becomes decidedly not hands-off; I act as his facilitator, his guide, his mentor. When he asks questions, we look for the answers together. When he expresses an interest in something to me, I provide him with resources. When I see a website or a book or a project that I know would interest him, I show him. When he wants to explore something, we go out and we explore the living crap out of it. We live our lives and we learn invaluable things along the way. People always ask if he's socialized, if he learns math, if he is able to read. Um... we live in the real world and those are skills that are needed in the real world. Heather was right. The focus needs to move away from what we don't do in unschooling to what we do. We live. We learn.

You put the lime in the coconut... or the cheese in the chicken.

We don't eat chicken more than once a week, on average - mainly because we get really bored with it. There's only so many things you can do with a chicken breast (none of us are fond of dark meat). You can marinate it and put it on a skewer on the grill or bake it in the oven. You can cut it into pieces and fry it up with onions and salsa for fajitas or soft tacos... I know there are other ways to eat it, but these seem to be the preparations we come back to again and again. I recently discovered a new way or doing chicken that feels a little fancy - stuffing it with white cheese and rolling it in bread crumbs and baking it. I found the recipe in The Best Casserole Cookbook Ever and tweaked it quite a bit to make it work for us.

What you're going to need:

• bread crumbs, either italian or plain, sometimes I mix the two together.
• salt
• oregano
• 4 - 6 slices of white cheese (provolone or havarti are the tastiest, IMHO)
• 2 or 3 boneless skinless chicken breasts
• butter (whoops, not shown)

First things first, we pound the chicken (actually, set your oven to pre-heat first, duh. 375 degrees). Some cookbooks tell you to put the meat between two layers of plastic wrap or in a sandwich bag, I prefer paper towels. I don't use them all that often anymore, but I always keep a roll under the counter for times such as these. When I called Seth over to take a picture of this step, the words that came out of my mouth were, "Hey hon, could you come take some action shots of me pounding the chicken?" and I'm pretty sure he snickered a few times and my face turned red. NOT what I meant, guys. So yes, pound that chicken.

It doesn't have to be SUPER-thin. Flatten it until it's about half as thick as when you started, paying extra attention to the thickest parts and evening the meat out.

This is where you'll need some butter. How much you use depends on how many breasts you're cooking. For our family of 3, I generally prepare just two breasts. I used about 4 tbsp of butter for ours. Just mix it up with about 1/2 tsp each of oregano and salt.

Now comes the fun part. Cut each of the breasts in half and spread some of the butter/herb mixture over the meat. Cut your slice of cheese into thin strips and lay them on the end of the chicken that is closest to you... now we roll.

Just roll it with me, just roll it with me... I usually roll things away from me, I assume that's how everybody does it, since rolling towards yourself seems kind of hard.

Once the breast is rolled up with the butter/herb mixture and the cheese inside, I hold it tightly and coat the outside of the breast in bread crumbs. The cookbook says to cover the chicken in melted butter before the breadcrumbs to make them stick better. I just didn't find this step necessary. Don't get me wrong, I love butter, but if I don't need as much as the recipe calls for, I won't use that much.

Once coated, lay your chicken roll-ups in a greased glass casserole dish. If there's any bread crumbs leftover in your bowl after the rolling step, go ahead and sprinkle them over the meat before popping it in the oven. Cover the dish with tinfoil and bake for about 25-30 minutes at 375. Remove the tinfoil and go another 10 minutes or so. If they don't look quite done, tack on some more time, but in my crappy old harvest gold oven, this seemed to be enough time. It's also really fun to put it on broil for the last few minutes - makes the bread crumbs a little extra crunchy and the cheese a little extra melty, which is always a good thing.

And VOILA! Cheese stuffed chicken with cooked carrots and couscous. It's a delight.

crack a smile, adjust my tie.

So...

It's amazing how you can be with someone for almost 5 years and still be constantly learning new things about them and how they work, about yourself, and about the ways in which you relate to each other (or, you know, DON'T).

I didn't end up axe-murdering Seth in his sleep, so that's good.

We talked a bunch after our tiff yesterday and figured some stuff out:

• He works with his father 40 hours a week, his father happens to talk to his mother. Nine times out of ten this results in them "being in the loop" much more than the average parents of a grown-ass man. I can deal with that. Just because I don't have that with my birth family doesn't mean that I should eschew having it with his family. It's actually quite nice to have that support system and to have people who actually care. BUT! I need him to communicate things to me. I need to "be in the loop" more than anyone else because, hey, it's my life, too. He totally gets that.

• He needs me to slow down. What that means is that I move from point A to point B to point whoevenknows in record time. Seth works things out in his head, takes a long time making decisions, and tends to keep things to himself rather than "talk them out". I, on the other hand, hash things out BY talking about them, make decisions quickly, and move from subject to subject VERY quickly. I've always known this about myself, but had literally no idea how overwhelming it can be for those around me. He described it like he's a really mellow, slow-moving elephant and I'm a high-strung squeaky mouse and I'm constantly backing him into a corner with a barrage of conversation and frenzy. Like a cartoon elephant teetering on top of a tiny wooden stool, scared out of its wits and emotionally claustrophobic. This is the most accurate description I've ever heard of anything in my entire life.

So yes... no one is going to kill anyone. He's not plotting behind my back or in cahoots with his parents to make me look like a complete dolt. I was all kinds of worked up about what happened, and that was justified. He gets that. I get that he needs me to slooooooooooow down. I think we understand eachother, sometimes it just takes a really uncomfortable afternoon and some bickering to figure all of it out.

Just say no to Drinking and Sewing.

On Saturday afternoon we swung by the house, figuring they'd be busy working on it, but we wanted to try just in case they weren't and we lucked out! They had finished some primer painting and had left the house to itself all weekend with heaters and fans on to help the primer dry. This gave me the perfect opportunity to measure all the windows so I could start in on the curtains. My goal is to have them all done before we move in. I know that may sound a little nuts since I do all my sewing by hand and we only have a month, but I'm a speed demon.

I decided to start with the bedrooms, that way if I don't get every single curtain done, we'll atleast have privacy in the rooms where we need it the most. I'm not sure I want my neighbors to be able to watch me change my clothes.

I started with Silas' curtains, since I already had all of the fabrics planned out and had a basic idea of what I wanted to do. His bedspread is made from the bottom fabric in the above pile, so I wanted pull together the red, turquoise and tan from that fabric. I grabbed seven fabrics that incorporated those colors and set to work cutting out squares for some very basic patchwork!

I was going to be sewing two long rectangular curtains to cover a 48" by 48" inch window, so I made each curtain 50" tall (not including the thin border of felt or the tabs for hanging) and 25" wide. To keep it simple I cut the squares 5" by 5", which would make each curtain panel 5 squares across and 10 squares long. Since I had 7 fabrics and needed 100 squares total, I cut 15 each out of my 2 favorites and 14 squares each from the remaining 5 fabrics.

Then came a lot of cutting. I ended up with a really fun indentation on my thumb from holding the scissors for so long. Tedious and exhausting, but sooooo worth it for the final product of my efforts.

I made 10 piles of 10 squares, alternating the patterns as best as I could and set to work on sewing together the rows of 10. Once I had that all done I started sewing the rows together to form the curtains. Though I was drinking copious amounts of beer while doing this part and when I picked it up to work on it the next day I discovered that one of my rows had only 9 squares and another one had 11. Because I'm awesome like that. Thankfully, it was a pretty simple fix, just carefully rip one seam and sew the square onto the row that was lacking. Fixed!

Here's one panel 2/5ths of the way done. I wasn't thrilled that two of the black and red plaid squares ended up butting up against eachother, but atleast one was cutting along the straight lines and one was on the bias, so they contrasted a bit in angle even though they were the same pattern.

\

Then I ironed the whole thing and measured a border out of navy blue felt (I HEART FELT, no hemming needed!) and put that around the edges and ironed again to make the border lay flat. Then I cut six rectangles out of the felt, about 2" by 7" and folded them over to sew them to the top border for hanging purposes.

It took two half-day marathon sewing sessions and a whole lot of fabric squares, but I'm really happy with how they turned out. I'm really glad I used the tan corduroy and bright red felt in there, since they'll work nicely for blocking a bit of light coming through his window.

I normally don't like patchwork enough to have such a huge decor element that incorporates it, sometimes it can come off as a little bit country (and NOT a little bit rock and roll), but in this case I think it works.

Team Jasie

There are few things in life that bother me more than feeling unsupported. Very few things. I need to know that the people I love, the people I hold dear, are going to be there to back me up. When they aren't, I don't take it well. I've learned over the past few years not to expect anything from my parents in the way of support, so atleast I'm not setting myself up for heaps of disappointment on that front. I've shown my mother this blog several times, as well as sending her links to specific things I've written and it's not even on her radar. I'm pretty sure that if you asked her about my blog, her reply would be, "I think she might have one." and that would be the end of it. It sucks, it's not fair, but it is what it is. I can deal.

The person I can't deal with not supporting me as a person is Seth. 99.9% of the time he is totally on my side and cheering me on, in some ways I feel like I'm not being appreciative of that by writing this post. The hard cold truth of the matter is that he shouldn't be getting patted on the back for being a nice guy - that should just be expected. It's like when we fawn over fathers who give their children baths or change diapers. Are you fucking kidding me? That's their JOB as people who created children. If I'm expected to do these things without major kudos from society at large, fathers should be as well. I feel the same way about being a nice person or a "nice guy". People should be there for each other, so I'm not going to wave my pom-poms because he is considerate most of the time. That's his job as a human being and as someone in a committed relationship - not to be a complete douche, just as I'm expected not to be a vile bitchface to him all of the time. Duh. Sure, we all have moments and days where we aren't the best versions of ourselves and fall short of being a nice person. We do it to our partners, our kids, the checker at the grocery store... it happens. It's when it hurts someone you love that you can't just brush it off like it's no big thing. You have to apologize, atone, make things right...

Today Seth got a text from his mom that they'd like to see the inside of the new house and wondered if we could head over there and show it to them. We had just finished up running errands and had nothing going on, so we said sure and drove on over there. It was a pretty typical little visit and house tour... until his mother brought up the subject of painting the interior and thought Seth had mentioned to her that we were planning on doing very minimal painting of our own or leaving all of the walls off white. As any reader here knows, this is not my plan at all and Seth is well aware of that. The ideas for paint colors in the interior are things we've discussed quite a bit, much of it, making the decisions together. So I kind of chuckled and looked at Seth and asked him, "When did you say that?"... He had nothing to say. It would have been one thing if he had said to her, "oh that was the plan at one point, but we've changed our minds." or something along those lines... but he seemed dumbfounded as to how to respond and just went along with everything she said. I swear my mouth must have dropped to the floor, or atleast my face pinched a bit at the sting of him telling me one thing and saying the complete opposite to his parents right in front of me, leaving me hanging, out on a proverbial limb. I basically ended up looking like some nutjob who was living entirely on her own planet. Other similar situations presented themselves throughout the rest of the tour and I reacted much in the same way... shock. It was wildly uncomfortable. He could have said anything supportive, anything to acknowledge that him and I were on the same page, on the same team, but instead he nodded at everything they said.

When we got in the car I said to him, "we need to talk about this." I was still reeling from feeling so hurt and dejected and wasn't really sure what was going on or if he had very different plans for the house and property that didn't include my input at all - because that was how it had seemed while he was agreeing with everything his mother said. When I said that we needed to talk, he didn't even know at first what I wanted to talk about. I just... augh. I should probably be saying all this to him and not to the keyboard, but I already did say all of this to him and barely got a response past "I'm sorry" (which totally does NOT count if the person isn't even sure what they're apologizing for) and a couple of grunts and nods. So... I'm at a loss.

I've spent the last couple of hours holed up in the bedroom with some sewing projects. I guess this could be viewed as me giving him the "silent treatment", but that isn't it. I've tried going out where he is and acting normal. I've tried making the kind of small talk that you make with someone who knows you and shares living space with you and I just can't do it. I can't pretend there isn't a problem and just "get over it". I'm sure he wishes I would, but I need to know that he's on my team, especially when we're being challenged. It doesn't matter by whom - family, friends, people we don't even know. If I'm being second-guessed or told I'm incapable of something or talked to like I'm delusional, whether intentionally or not, I need him to step in and be 100% on Team Jasie.

to every thing - turn, turn, turn.

I found this a bit eerie; these two pictures are almost exactly a year apart and were taken in the exact same spot at the Fort Worden Bunkers. The trees have grown a bit more, Silas' hair has certainly grown A LOT more, and last, but not least - our social prospects have DEFINITELY grown.

May 2009 - Silas is newly liberated from school, my parenting habits are still quite controlling and I'm anxious about everything. Seth is stressed and trying to transition into this new life we're building, all while working a 40 hour week outside the home. We all feel isolated and unsure.

April 2010 - Silas is coming into his own, learning how to handle the freedom to be himself. Seth is relaxing and figuring out how to balance the crazy that emanates from both Si and I. I'm also learning - learning to trust both of the guys and myself, learning to take deep breaths and slow down a little, learning to let go.

Yesterday was the best day ever. EVER.

The packing begins. Except for 3 or 4 empty boxes that Seth brought home from work, the rest of those are already packed and full. About 3/4 of them are boxes full of fabric. Needless to say, I am very much looking forward to installing some kind of shelving in the new sewing room so I can actually see what all is in my stash, instead of it living in cardboard boxes in a closet (as most of it as done for the past 6 months). I guess-timated this morning that even if I only pack 2 or 3 boxes a day between now and the move, we'll be completely ready by the move-in date.

After all of my productivity at home in the morning, Silas and I headed out and about to grab lunch at Bloomers Landing, hang up flyers at the Hadlock Library, OlyCap Thrift Shoppe, and of course, since we were buying cheeseburgers anyway, we hung a flyer at Bloomers. After we devoured our delicious lunch we drove back into PT and met up with Paige - a friend I've known/known-of online for about 6 years who I had somehow not met in person yet. She's from PT, but has lived in Oregon for some time, but she happened to be in town doing some yard-work for her dad. It was really good to finally meet her. She's lovely. Also, she let us cut some lilacs from the sprawling garden. Silas fell in love with that garden, especially the locks and latches on all of the gates. Could it be that this child has a future in locksmithing? We'll have to wait and see.

After meeting Paige we high-tailed it out to Fort Worden and met up with Whitney and her boys for one last meet-up before the Life-Learners group is opened to the public next week.

The boys had a great time running around the bunkers, but it took us awhile to get up the hill since they kept getting distracted by dirt trails off the main path. They even got stuck down one, but with a fleece jacket and some teamwork, they all survived.

There were so many nooks and crannies to explore, we ended up being at the Fort for almost three hours. This will definitely stay on the list of places to take the group in the future.

Silas was a lot more daring about exploring the narrow, dark spaces than I'd ever seen him. I think it was because he had the company and support of two rough and tumble boys about his age. Strength in numbers - that sort of thing.

I am very much looking forward to more people joining the group, but this time with just Whitney and her 3 boys has been very much cherished. It's nice to connect with another parent who is pretty mellow and knows what the hell I'm talking about when I open my mouth about education and parenting and life in general. It's going to be awesome to build a network of such families.

white space

So today is the 15th of April, the official middle of the month. The house move-in date is getting so close I can taste it. Currently, it tastes kind of like drywall, but soon it will taste like cardboard boxes full of our belongings and new carpet and walls ready to be painted and some land that's ready to be 'scaped. Once they broke ground and put in the foundation, they told us the house would be done and ready to move into by the end of May. All the reports from the developer in the last month or two have been that they are ahead of schedule. It is a very real possibility that we could be painting these walls in as little as a month and be moved in completely by June 1st.

Seth and I were talking last night about the moving process and we finally came to terms with how close all of this is and that it's time to be ok with the living space of the apartment having cardboard boxes stacked all over the place. It's not like we haven't packed at all - we've organized every closet in the last couple of months, I've boxed up the majority of my fabric, we sold a lot of extra things in that garage sale last Fall, and have dropped off countless bags and boxes of things we didn't need anymore at GoodWill. It's just that now... it's time to get down to some serious packing business. The books are going to be the biggest challenge. Sure, they're easy to stick in boxes (as long as they're small boxes, or you won't be able to lift them without breaking your back), it's just that the sheer amount of books we own is beyond overwhelming. I just counted - there are TEN bookshelves in our home, all filled to the brim. There are also atleast five piles of books around the house that are either currently being read or just didn't fit on the shelf. It's going to be a big undertaking, to say the least.

My gosh, it's all going to be worth it, though. We swung by the house a couple of days ago, late in the day when we knew the construction guys wouldn't be there anymore, and got some pictures of the interior now that all of the drywall is up. It's all so open and airy, it feels HUGE. I know that once they bring in the carpet and build the kitchen and all of that, it's going to fill up some of that blank space. Once our stuff and furniture is moved in, it'll feel cozy and like... well, home.

I'm looking forward to painting. I plan to be pretty creative with colors. Each room will have one basic color, but the ceiling will be painted a shade or two lighter, or a contrasting color. I know that painting ceilings can be such a pain, I've done it before (3 coats of cherry red, that took FOREVER!), but the effect is fantastic and totally worth it.

I'm a little intimidated by the full wall of closet space in our bedroom. I've never had so much to work with and I'm guessing we won't even need half of it for our clothes. So I guess it can be storage? We're going to have a lot more storage than we ever have before, since there's also an extra bedroom (that will be our office/sewing room) that has its own closet. I'm thinking the walls in this room will be a light, slightly yellowy avocado green, to match some of the leaf colors in our bedspread.

The kitchen is going to be interesting. We picked pretty neutral linoleum and counter tops that are mostly grey/cream with little flecks of tan, so they'll go with warm or cool paint colors. I plan to paint our cabinets, as well. They're fairly light wood (I picked the lightest they had), but it's still darker and warmer than I generally like. I have no idea what colors I'm going to use for this part of the house. It has to be something that looks rad with our dark dining room table, but also with our bright and cheery array of kitchen towels and accessories. I'm thinking yellows and coral with maybe some hints of turquoise here and there. I don't think I want the cupboards that bright, though, it could be a bit overwhelming. Maybe I'll do the cabinets a nice grey, the walls mostly yellow, and maybe a small accent wall or two of coral or something.

Here's that office/sewing room I was talking about. It's the smallest bedroom of the three. I'm thinking a light purple, something between lavender and violet, bright, but not overwhelming. I've always wanted to have a purple room and I've never gotten to have one before. Plus, I think it'll be happy and motivating, which is good for a room I'll be spending quite a bit of time in.

I'm in love with the slanted ceiling pitch and the recessed lighting in the kitchen! It's all going to make for some very interesting lines and effects in the overall look of the place.

Silas is pretty excited about his room. His current decor is mostly red/turquoise/navy blue. We've been talking about extending that in the paint colors since it suits him and it's easy to decorate around (Ikea has more red/turquoise accessories than any other color scheme. Easy peasy!).

And the garage... ah, I'm pretty excited to finally have a space for spray-painting picture frames and knick-knacks and furniture. It sure as hell beats trying to do it on a back porch that's exposed to all of the elements.

I despise those plastic inserts in the windows that are supposed to look like a sunburst - cue Sideshow Bob shudder... Seth emailed the developer, saying we didn't want them put in, but apparently they didn't get the memo. All is not lost, though - they look incredibly easy to pop out.

This is all happening so fast, my brain can barely keep up!

PS: I just bought this lovely Dutch wall hanging on Etsy for the house! I plan to give it a spray of protective clear coat and hang it on the exterior, centered above the garage door. Wilkum, indeed.