Growing Pains

I thought Kieran turning five was tough. That was peanuts compared to the latest. And here it is. Are you ready?

Kieran is going to school.

After much discussion over the summer, my husband and I decided that we would enroll Kieran in the Machias Montessori School. We felt that it was the right time and the right place for him to be. Just three days a week, which I figured was long enough for him to be away from his mama. And long enough for me to be away from him.  After one week, we are convinced that this was the right decision. And Kieran couldn't be happier.

A little smugly, I felt just fine with the whole thing. More then fine. I was coping marvelously. Or so I thought. Until today.

After buckling him up and planting a kiss on his cheek, I waved goodbye to my smiling (if still a little sleepy) son as he set off on his commute to Machias with my friend Amy and her two kidlets (they attend the school, too). I kissed my husband goodbye and brewed my morning coffee. Alone in the house, the weather dreary with rain, it wasn't long before I was in tears.

Big tears. Snotty sobbing tears. Can't catch your breath tears. I was missing my little guy so much. He is, generally, my constant companion. And by constant companion, I don't mean we're joined at the hip, or we're together each and every minute. Very often, he's doing his own thing (reading, constructing "pillow boats", carrying out one of his many construction jobs outside, or making concrete), and I'm doing mine. But he is a definite presence, to say the least. He sometimes needs my assistance carrying five gallon buckets of water for the concrete. Or he wants to show me what he's doing on "Lora's property". Or he wants something to eat. Or he wants to show me how he's arranged his gazillion books. Again. For the millionth time!

And while I was crying in the shower, I so wished that he were siting on the stool in the bathroom, asking me "what should we have for breakfast?" like his does most mornings.

A surprise visit by one of my best girls was a welcome distraction. Then breakfast out. On to story hour at the library where I was treated to a story. Yes, attending story hour without Kieran is pretty pathetic but I needed distractions. And besides, I like being read to!

I decided I would spend the afternoon sewing a little something for myself. I didn't feel like doing anything practical. Being creative felt like a nice way to take care of myself. With that in mind, I stopped off at the local thrift shop before I bicycled home. I thought I might find some treasure to upcycle into a new fall/winter handbag. And boy, did I ever.

The find: a pair of what appeared to be vintage skort-type shorts. You know, half skirt half shorts. Blocks of colorful prints against a black, heavy cotton (almost a canvas) material would make the perfect bag.

I got straight to work, cutting away the buttons, zipper and bulky seams. I envisioned the shape of bag I wanted, and decided to incorporate some wool material and two lengths of old, delicate, hand tatted lace (also thrift store finds), as well as a couple of appliques I made from the scrap material. A little while later, I had a really cool purse that was created using almost all upcycled materials from the local thrift shop!

I cut out one of the floral print blocks, along with two strips of floral border, and used them as applique pieces. Each piece of the tatted lace is different. It must have taken someone ages. It was such a find, and I'm happy that I'll get to appreciate it every day.

This picture does not do justice to the colors of this fabric. Lavender, bright green and red, blue, orange and yellow.  The color blocks are mostly all floral designs, except for one lone square of hens (or maybe they're roosters?).

All in all, it turned out to be a pretty good day. I got Kieran to bed early so we could read extra books. I even sang to him, which he sometimes won't tolerate (although I'm sure that's not due to my voice...) and rubbed his back.

I think I might be okay tomorrow. After all, it's just growing pains.