Chickenlips Knitting

...in 1990, when all there was, was being together, learning who you were, and dreaming of whom you would become.


On Monday, the day after you came home from a week at Grandma's, you took the car while I was at work and drove over to your friend's house to pick her up, even though all you have is a learner's permit. On the way back to our house, a police officer stopped you for speeding, and the car was impounded. You told the officer that your dad and I knew you were driving without a license, which was a lie.


And I know you knew that you shouldn't have done any of those things.


When the police officer called and said you were with him, I felt as though my blood had suddenly frozen in my veins. Right away, he assured me that you were all right. Once I had all the information of what had happened, it's like the part of me having to do with feeling and thinking stopped working correctly. I'm experiencing the events of a couple of days ago a little at a time, as much as my heart and mind will allow me. I'm grateful beyond words that you are unharmed. I'm mad as hell that you defied not only your parents, but several laws. I'm terrified when I think that you endangered not only yourself but your friend, and everyone else who was on the road with you. I could kick myself in the ass for not keeping the car keys away from you. A learner's permit, after all, means that you are learning. The reason it isn't a legal right to drive by yourself is simply because you don't completely know how, yet! And that means it wasn't a matter of "trusting" you with the keys. Boredom, a hot summer day, the new thrill of driving a car and those keys beckoning you--it's my fault, ultimately. I wasn't protecting you.

I've spent too much time the past few days being angry, with myself as much as with you, and not nearly enough time being rational. Tonight, something compelled me to go through the old pictures, and find some that remind me of my true feelings for you. To remind myself of the unchanging in the midst of the daily stress, strain and frequent chaos that family life can sometimes be.


I want to marry Ichiro, and have his children.

(July 12: couldn't resist adding excerpt from "Ichiro-Man" comic)

Is that wrong?


I'm already married to a nice man, I no longer have a uterus (overshare!) so the children part would be impossible, and besides, look what the past few days have been like with my own. But ladies, all kidding aside, Ichiro is a god. For as long as I can remember, I've loved watching big league baseball, and last night, No. 51 for Seattle (one of my favorite teams, the other being Boston) became the first player ever to hit an inside-the-park home run in the All-Star Game. You can see the video here, although he makes history in the last 60 seconds of a five-minute clip in which an obnoxious color announcer yammers on, and on, as they do.

Well, wouldja look at the time! That's it for now. I'll be maintaining radio silence until I have an actual FO to show you--should be on the weekend, unless something else happens. But it can't, can it? Right??