Yarn Along: Travel Insomia

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The night before a trip always finds me feeling a little bit unsettled. My brain is zooming around from what is or isn’t packed yet, did I turn on my vacation responder, remember to take out the garbage tomorrow, is the camera charged, remember to bring the prenatal vitamins, and on and on.

Last night I woke up for a bathroom break (the baby has found my bladder) and couldn’t stop thinking once I was up. After tossing around for a while, I decided to get back up and deal with the question of vacation knitting. I had been worrying about having the right amount of knitting with the appropriate ratio of interest to mindlessness. So I utilized this time between 2:30 and 4 pm to think, start a knitting project, and catch up on a couple of blogs. Thankfully, I went back to sleep eventually, and there was some coffee waiting for me when I woke up.

Knitting: Wurm in Freia

Reading: The Girl You Left Behind by Jojo Moyes and Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth by Ina May Gaskin

What’s on your needles and on on your nightstand this week? 

Momsomnia & Blog Envy

Last night, after having gotten up with a sick babe twice in under three hours, I couldn’t fall back to sleep.  This happens to me somewhat regularly: I get up in the night to nurse the little one, or to go to the bathroom, get a drink of water, etc., and then I can’t fall back asleep.  I lie there, perfectly awake, mind ablaze with myriad worries, to-dos, or on the good nights, ideas.  Meanwhile, the pitiful tired child in my brain is whining: why can’t I fall back to sleep?  I count the minutes I’ve been awake each time I roll over, willing myself to stop looking at the clock.  Finally I will either get up or turn on my iPod and listen to a knitting podcast.

After tossing and turning for a while I got up, had a bowl of Cheerios, did some blog reading and went back to bed where I thought about blog post ideas, and tossed and turned some more.  Looking at the clock, I see I’d already been awake an hour.  Sweetie was softly snoozing next to me, and I trembled with something like rage at her ability to sleep deeply almost the instant her head hits the pillow. I grabbed my iPod out of my dusty nightstand drawer, put in the earphones, and….nothing.  The battery was dead.  Shaking it did little to convince the thing to work, so here I am. It’s 2:58 am and I have Momsomnia.

During these sleepless nights, my brain often wanders to all things blog-related.  Sometimes I can soothe myself back to sleep thinking up blog posts, fantasizing over how to present my latest work-in-progress, or how to pull together a post out of some random photos I’ve taken.  Tonight I find myself wondering if some of the she-bloggers I enjoy reading ever get insomnia.  If they ever want to clobber their spouses for not waking up when the baby cries, or get frustrated after stepping on bits of dry cereal or cat yarf in her bare feet in the night.

Sometimes I can’t help but compare myself to some of these women and their lives as presented on their blogs.  My brain knows that what we see on each other’s blogs is a mere glimpse of our real lives.  Some of us never share the gritty realities of our lives, instead choosing to focus on the positive, naturally sunlit moments of our days.  Others can’t stop ranting about every last inane detail of their daily grind.  Somewhere in the middle is the truth of who we are.

I know none of us is perfect.

And yet sometimes I wish my life were more like someone else’s blog.  Don’t you?  You know the ones…

Sunlight streams in through spotless windows onto the freshly refinished hardwood floors original to the house while she expertly snaps photos of her children practicing their quadratic equations or learning how to read a sundial.  She never complains about poopy diapers (even the one that made her vomit last week when she was home alone with the babe and a stomach bug), spit up, the cat’s hairballs, in-laws tracking in mud onto recently vacuumed rugs, or that mysterious smell in the fridge.  She bakes her own bread every week, collects eggs from her heirloom chickens, has a cute haircut, has time to get said cute haircut, displays seasonal fresh flowers in the house (this time of year it’s a forced sprig of forsythia clipped on a nature walk with her children, an attempt to get them outside every day no matter what).  Her home is decorated in a chic mix of reupholstered flea market finds, diy sewing projects, and prints from her favorite sellers on etsy.  She’s always dressed nicely (no sweats for this one) and is never too tired to make a nutritious dinner.  She wouldn’t dare eat ice cream straight from the carton.  What else are those cute bowls from anthropologie for?

Get the picture?

My point in all of this is that I know no one is perfect, especially the  mythic she-blogger.  I am me, and in this space I share what I care to of myself.  It is by no means a complete picture.  Right now my eyes burn, the laptop is about out of juice, and I’m worried that as soon as I do fall asleep, my poor cough-riddled tot will wake again. Who wants to see a picture of that?

Don’t get me wrong: I love these blogs that so many talented writers, knitters, crafty mamas, photographers, cooks, gardeners, teachers, and artists take the time to share with us.  If I didn’t, I wouldn’t spend my time reading them.  There are just moments where I wish I could jump through my computer screen into their cozy living rooms and immaculate studios and stay awhile.  But after an hour or so, I would jump right back over into my life.  Because with all its imperfections, I love it.

At the end of the day, how do you let go of your daily worries?

Do you ever find yourself wishing you lived in someone else’s beautiful snapshots?

Got a cure for insomnia? I’d love to hear your thoughts!


{These photos were taken in Newport, OR on our post-holiday stay at the coast.  They are some of the first shots taken with my new camera, the Nikon D3100}