SacMomsClub.com

It's really difficult to make new friends when you're an adult. Especially, friends you have something in common with. Fortunately for me, this changed last year when I came across a small group of women in Austin, Texas known as Austin Craft Mafia. They are the original gangsters of the craft world. When I saw what these women were doing, I wondered if there was anything like that in Sacramento.

I already had an account on myspace for my small business on Etsy called Handmade Luck, where I sell jewelry and housewares. Through myspace, I did a search for other Sacramentan crafters and came across Amy of Pepto Girl Industries. I asked her if there was a Sacramento Craft Mafia and she said, no, but that she wanted to start one. However, at the time, she was inundated with getting her own website up and running for her jewelry business. It wasn't two months after that when I got a myspace message from her saying that she'd put up a Sacramento Craft Mafia site and asked if I was still interested. I said, "Heck yes, I am!"

Through the Sacramento Craft Mafia, I've met some amazing local talent. They are amazing crafters and individuals. I can't say enough positive things about the girls in my group. And when I told them that my son has diabetes and that my family was doing JDRF's annual walk for the cure, they all said, "We're in!" They are my extended family now.

The WALK TO CURE DIABETES which takes place on Sunday, October 7, 2007. I'm excited to be walking not only with my family team, the Big Asteroids, but also with the Sacramento Craft Mafia. So far, we've collectively have raised over $600 for the JDRF (which in turn go toward research and trials to find the cure to type 1 diabetes, which will inevitably aid in finding a cure for type 2)! Our family has been blessed by the people who have rallied together for this cause. It became our cause in 2005 when our son was diagnosed at the age of 11. People from all over the world have sent in crafty donations for the Sugarcube Society, sent in monetary donations, and have blogged about it to create awareness that 15,000 cases of type 1 are diagnosed each year. When I see what our son goes through managing this disease, it means even more to me what others are doing to help us end this crappy disease (which is not only a TERRIBLE disease for the normalcy of a child's life, but also puts them at risk for horrific short-term and long-term complications such as DKA, hypoglycemic comas, blindness, renal failure, heart disease, and diabetic ulcers of the feet and legs leading to amputation and sepsis, fatal blood poisoning).

Last night, a few of the girls from the SCM came over to my house for a little t-shirt decorating get-together. I would have called it a party if more of the girls could have made it. However, I was so thrilled that Amy (Pepto Girl Industries), Antoinette (Creatress Designs) and Rain (Rain's Embellishments) came to hang out, eat goodies, and create masterpieces to represent our fabulous team! Here's a peek:

Thank you girls for coming all the way to my house in the burbs on a weeknight! It means so much. And thank you all who have contributed to OUR cause!

larger view

For the past few days, my daughter's been walking around the house holding her bottom. When I first noticed this, I thought she had a rash or something, but after further investigation and consideration, I realized that it had been a couple of days since she had a bowel movement and she was using her hand as a cork (so to speak).

As long as I can remember, I've had my own issues in this department. Constipation plagues the women in my family, so it was obsurd to me to see my daughter holding it in when she has such a rare gift of regularity.

Yesterday, I was sitting on the toilet opposite of my daughter's yelling at her to squeeze one out when I suddenly recalled Freud's Stages of Psychosexual Development and realized she was acting "anal" even though, by his standards, she was supposed to be "phallic". I've never really subscribed to Freud's theory mostly because I found the terminology a bit off-putting, but did recognize that by holding her poop in, she had the ultimate control. Neither her father nor I could make her do this one (or should I say, two?) thing. I guess it doesn't take a psychoanalyst to figure that one out.

Finally, this evening, after  days of complaining about her stomach, back and bottom hurting, and days after my husband and I stopped asking her every hour is she wanted to go sit on the toilet and go poo poo, our daughter told me that she had to go pee pee. I sighed heavily as I came to grips with the reality that I was no longer in control of the throne. There was a new queen in power. I sat with my daughter on the toilet and got caught up in thoughts of what I had to do tomorrow. I began to write a mental list of errands when she tapped me on the leg and pointed between her legs. I almost cried (partly out of relief and partly because of the pain she must have endured) when I saw the huge chocolate egg that was in the bowl of her little toilet. She looked up and smiled, "I was only pretending that I didn't have to go poop." Little stinker.

Our daughter just turned 3 1/2 and is now fully potty trained which means that Daddy and I have no more excuses for NOT enrolling her in a preschool program. Both my husband and I are sensitive and clingy and plain just didn't want to let go. But seeing how our daughter's little face lights up whenever she has the opportunity to play with other kids her age, we knew it was necessary.

This is strictly for socialization, considering our daughter's known her alphabet, numbers, shapes, colors and animals since she was two. She can write several letters and knows how to draw rudimentary people and objects. She's more of an artist than I'll ever be. We know that she would have no problem entering kindergarten straight from our home on an educational perspective.

I know my daughter and if she didn't have a preschool experience, then I could see her going into school concerned solely with the the social aspect. She would just worry about playing, making friends and keeping them, instead of what the teacher was saying. I'm glad this will give her a chance to get her used to the novelty factor and then being around other kids will just be as normal as having Cheerios and bananas for breakfast.

So, we signed her up yesterday morning and she starts next week! Yes, my husband's leaving from work to walk her to her classroom on the first day. And yes, he will have our camcorder in his hand (and most likely a tear in his eye). I will have to be the strong one and reassure him that she'll be ok and it's for her own good. Then after he leaves to go back to work, I'll break down in the hallway and sit there the entire three hours just so I can make sure my daughter isn't bawling her head off just like me.

On the side of being a full-time mama, I do freelance writing for some small local publications. It's a little extra income to feed my real passion, which is crafting. It also helps pay for coffee, which has become not just a luxury, but a necessity as well.

I've never been much of a sleeper. I used to be plagued with anxiety that kept my heart racing and my mind whirling with random scenarios of disaster, mostly involving the people I loved whose lives I had no control over.

Now, my anxiety is subconscious and manifests itself in my dreams. I can't stop having bad dreams. I know everybody has them, but I can't remember the last time I had a good dream or even a boring, realistic one about teeth flossing, silver polishing or even a mundane Tetris dream.

I've been waking up and then I'm AWAKE. Fatigue sets in right after my coffee buzz wears off mid-morning and I find myself needing a nap (something I haven't needed since my daughter was an infant). Because my daughter's naptime is my mainsource of freetime, I have to put off all the fun crafty projects I have in mind in order to finish my freelance work.

Monday's my deadline and I only have one article written so far. This weekend is packed with family in from Los Angeles, my sister's birthday and our annual pirate party. Not to mention a visit to my mother-in-law's. There's no obvious time to finish my work. I'm going to have to red-eye it, burn the midnight oil, burn the candle at both ends or any other applicable antiquated  phrase, just to meet my deadline.

Wish me luck! I'll let you know if I have a job on Monday ;)