Okay-- two things today, one old, one new:
ZoomBoy has taken to calling the dogs "assles", thinking that I won't notice he's really just copying ME when I call them assholes. I let him get away with it because A. Middle School, B. Mom swears all the time, what did I expect, and C. They dogs ARE assholes.
Squish today said, "Wait! Why does he get to say traffic words?"
Me: He doesn't really.
Squish: Do I get to call them assles?
Me: No! Neither of you should!
ZoomBoy: Why not?
Me: Because one day you're going to be talking about your pets in class and you're going to say "We've got three cats, two fish, and two assholes!" and then I"m going to get called to the principal's office!
They both seemed to think this was good reasoning and we dropped the subject.
Of course my real reason was that Mate isn't happy when the kids learn to swear--even though he's the second worst offender in the house.
So that was new.
I'm trying to finish fingerless mitts and a couple of hats as swag. It's hard fitting the time in, and I had a flashback to when I used to knit baby blankets in three days and four sweaters a year.
And then I remembered the following conversation between me and a friend of mine.
We were "adopting" bears for Chicken's birthday-- a Build-a-Bear workshop. And in your "adoption" papers, you have to put a few hobbies or words that described you.
"Oh, easy!" my friend said. "You're a yarner."
"That's it? I put writer--see?" (I had just finished Vulnerable-- I was so proud.)
"Well, yeah-- but you leave little scraps of yarn everywhere you go. So, you know, more knitter than writer."
And I realized I had to make a choice, schedule time, break away from my beloved knitting and write instead.
And it was a bigger sacrifice than it might seem.
I mean, I really love knitting.
But I stand by that choice back then. Writing is who I am.
Although I still do leave the occasional yarn end to mark where I've been. Think of it as fiber of love ;-)