Getting Started

My first blog post, wow, I really never thought this would be something I would find myself doing.
What does someone write in their very first post anyways and when does the question creep into your mind of,
 who is going to read my blog, if anyone?

I guess it's time to just jump in with both feet and we'll go from there.  Who knows, maybe my very own little blog, that I don't even really know what it is going to be about yet, will turn into one of those famous things that everyone at work is talking about on Monday morning around the water cooler.  Oh, wait...that isn't going to happen for me, I work at home.  Okay, maybe the coffee pot instead of the water cooler.  And that would be in the kitchen, after I've made the ever-so-daunting commute from the bedroom to downstairs.  Really it can be a rough commute sometimes.  There are two dogs, one cat, two teenage girls, one little guy that claims to belong to us and be our youngest child and a husband to try to get around...all that just to get to the coffee pot.  That might be worth discussing somedays as it is.

So there's a little bit of background already about me.  Yep, I'm the one in the house that they (all other residents in said house) refer to as "Mom."  Mom, a three letter word.  One of the first words ever learned by a child.  A word that can sound like music to one's ears or like fingernails raking across a chalkboard.  Please, don't get me wrong, I absolutely adore the title, most of the time.  But just like all others out there with the same title, there are moments and days when the title sometimes seems to be a curse and we can hear our own mother's voices in our heads, "Someday, I hope you have 10 and I hope they are 10 times worse than you!"  Of course though, I was a perfect angel and my mother would never have put such a curse on me...I only have 3 and I know that they are far better than I was as a child.

I do work at home.  I try to be disciplined and work a regular schedule however, I find that my needs and desires to crochet or sit down to the sewing machine sometimes far outweigh the necessity to sit and be a transcriptionist.  Hence when this occurs, you will find me spending my weekends working to make-up for the "play time" I took during the week while the house was nice and quiet and any sane person would have been able to concentrate fully on "work" so as to be allowed to "play" on the weekends.

My husband, also known as the guy who answers to "Dad" in our house, is definitely the most patient, understanding and wonderful man I know.  He puts up with the overflowing yarn stashes throughout the house, the crochet hooks that are strewn about, little buttons here and there, the sewing machine at the end of the dining room table which appears to be waiting for its dinner as well when we all gather to eat, piles of fabric here and there and peeking out of closets and drawers and my new found attraction to paper that is slowly trying to find a corner of the house to take over as we speak.  He has this amazing ability to overlook all of this, see a new project in the works and just go ahead and understand why exactly it is that his dinner is not ready.  Many nights he exhibits his fine cooking skills for the little residents in the house, typically in the form of pancakes, waffles or tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, without even making a fuss over the fact that I was too consumed by the project at hand to stop and feed the little residents or he, who had been away to work all day.  Yep, he is great and I love him for all of his greatness and understanding of my need to be creative.

I guess for not being too sure what I was going to write about I managed to fill a lot of space.  I am a rambler and can go on at great length sometimes.  Maybe I'm hoping that somebody will find some humor in our every day lives.  I think it will be nice to also have somewhere to maybe put some pictures of finished projects.  I don't know, we'll just have to see where it leads.  "Only time will tell..."