Friday, February 20, 2015

Confession

In the last four weeks, I have picked up my crochet hook exactly once. The sewing machine hasn't been turned on, and the fabric for my husband's quilt lies carefully folded in my craft box waiting for me to have enough time (and energy) to pull it out and begin embroidery work again. Sharp needles and infants don't exactly mix well, and currently I'd much rather snuggle the infant.



























What have I been up to then? 

Snuggling baby boy, teaching the oldest her lessons, washing dishes, cleaning dirt off floors and faces, building a railroad with the rascals, reading countless renditions of "We're going on a bear hunt," gathering various sticks and pinecones, listening to loud renditions of cops and robbers, dreaming aloud with my husband, folding laundry, picking up toys, remembering College Algebra (no easy task), changing umpteen diapers, sweeping the kitchen, drinking in our early spring, and cherishing this most precious time.


Please bear with me as I reevaluate (yet again) what this space is to be used for. My intention is still to craft though with four children under eight it won't be as often as originally planned. Perhaps delving into my real, messy, haphazard, wonderful life is better suited to the current situation.