Who are all these people, what are they doing here, and why are they eating all my food?

I've been unwilling to write a Me Page for Knitters-Knitters for two reasons.  First of all, there's something about reading the words, "Hi!  I'm a homeschooling stay-at-home mom of 6 children and I like to write about knitting and autism!" that makes one want to click somewhere else--anywhere else.  Better I should lure you first with adorable photos of my spaniel, then come at you with the knitting and mommy stuff.  Secondly, I'm under-qualified for this writing task.  If I list things about my personal tastes or my accomplishments, I sound pretentious.  If I write the ever-popular 100 Things About Me list, I sound self-absorbed.  Just who do I think I am, anyways?

I asked LB and my friend Susan to help me write my About Me page.  LB immediately came down a debilitating flu that specifically affected his hands and ability to type, and Susan said she'd "get right on it."  Time passed, bringing with it no nuances of Susan being On It.  I'm reluctant to nag her, because she'd probably trot out that same tired excuse about having 15 children and herds of livestock to attend to.  Can you say L-A-Z-Y?  Briefly, I considered asking my sister Lo to contribute.   She'd probably be happy to do it.  Maybe a little too happy, if you know what I mean.

Instead I'll provide you with a cast of characters, despite the fact that opening a book and finding a family tree (or worse yet, a map of Greenland) is generally something that makes me close the book. 

LB: my husband of 15 years.  LB stands for Lawn Boy, because of his striking resemblance to the boy who used to mow your parents' lawn when you were growing up.  This is what I call him in real life, too.  Other people call him "Joe," but that's not his real name, either, and I've never thought he looked like a Joe.  The only thing he resembles less than a Joe is a Robert, which is his real name, but no one calls him that.  You will never hear me call him my best friend or my soul-mate, because I wasn't raised to use that kind of language.  You will, however, see him referenced as the human aloe, the 160 pound diazepam tablet, the string to my kite, and all sorts of other metaphors that convey the premise that he's the calm one.

The Children: The question I get asked more than any other is which one is which and how old are they. 

Sabina: age 14

Daisy: 12

Anatole: 11

Agatha: 10

Dana: 9

Olive: 7

The four girls are born to us, and the two boys (Dana is a boy) were adopted.  I suppose I could be like Marie Osmond and claim they're all so mine that I can't remember which ones were born to me and which were not, but I have never aspired to be anything like Marie Osmond.

Sabina and Anatole, as you may have noticed in the photos, were both born missing their left arm below the elbow.  This happens.  It was a big, honking deal when Sabina was born but as the years passed, it became a non-issue.  If there were any leftover, filmy, ethereal threads of it being an issue, they all disappeared into nothingness when it became apparent that Olive's not talking wasn't just a quirk she'd grow out of.  Olive is autistic, and is completely non-verbal.  She's the one child of mine in traditional school (special ed, of course) and you'll see more discussion about her on this blog than all of my other children combined.  It is a daily concern that Olive's needs don't eclipse those of all the other children, as can easily happen in a family with a very impaired child.  And yet, I have no doubt that having a sibling like Olive is the most important learning experience my 5 other children will ever have.

I'm the youngest child in my family of origin.  We were a close bunch to begin with, but even more so after the death of my eldest brother Abel (from aortic dissection) in 2003.  Hen (others call him Dave) is my big brother and Lo (Laura) is my big sister.  If you've read any of the comments on Knitters-Knitters, you're familiar with Irma (and by familiar, I mean you know her like the back of your hand), my mom.  My dad, who comments occasionally, is OFD.  This stands for Old Fat Dad, and was my nickname for him since I was little and he was actually YFD.

Other characters you'll see mentioned here are Magical Realism Maria, Olive's private speech therapist and Dr. Bowtie, my psychiatrist and the only person for whom I've created an alias.  Occasionally I talk about Woody Allen and Kelsey Grammar who, inexplicably, appear in my dreams and everyday thoughts.

See, this is the problem with writing your own Me Page.  It's hard to know where to stop.

Comments

[Poppy Buxom]

Thanks for writing this! It's interesting per se, but it will become increasingly useful over the years as the ethanol works its magic on my brain cells.

[Irma]

Well done Jen! And that is all I'll say

[Gail]

You promised and now have delivered. I'm pleased that you never aspired to be like Marie Osmond. I think you do a wonderful job just being you!

[Miss Susan]

Hey, given enough time and several hundred monkeys with typewriters, I could have come up with something decent!

[kmkat]

Excellent "about me" essay. Much above the average. Thanks.

[Lo]

Crap. I was so looking forward to writing your About You page.

[eurolush]

Great. Now we're all feeling insecure. You've put my "about me" crap to shame. To SHAME, I tell you! I'm going to have to go back and re-work it...which I deeply resent.

See how I did that? I turned all the attention from you back to ME. It's a gift!

Really, though...your "about me" essay was great. Well written. Witty. Insightful. Filled with human interest...canine interest...knitting interest. Leaves us begging for more.

I didn't think it was possible to like you more than I do. Now it's bordering on puffy heart love. Do you have room for one more 37 year old kid there? I promise I'd make my bed every day. And help with the dishes and stuff.

[suse]

One of my favourite things about Knitters-Knitters is the way all your family join in the comments. It's a beautiful ensemble piece. And so much easier to keep track of than if I had to go and read Lo's blog, or Irma's blog as well as yours.

Can you also explain for those of us who are particularly obtuse, what's with the double hyphenated words please?

[suse]

Not that I wouldn't read Lo's or Irma's blogs!

Just wanted to clarify.

[The Coffee Lady]

it is odd, isn't it, how big honking deals turn into non-issues over time. I'm sometimes amazed that other parents don't have to lug about items of disability equipment. What DO they do with all their spare arms?

[Beth @ Jus Shar Designs]

LB is your Prozac. I need an LB in my life too.

I'm forever confusing Daisy and Sabina. They look that much alike to me. And would you believe I never noticed that Anatole was missing his left arm below the elbow. I only knew about Sabina because of the post your wrote once about her and being such a pretty baby.

Perhaps the beauty that is your adorable furbaby had me dazed and confused. :-)

[Dixie]

That was great! By now, most of it I knew except what LB and OFD stood for. Now I feel like I'm one of the "in" crowd. Don't burst my bubble and tell me I'm not.

[tamara]

Your essay was terrific, as usual. I think you should provide a link to the interview you did with Cog. It was cool, and explains the "knitters-knitters" (etc.) phenomenon.

[Michelle Jackson]

You have a wonderful site!

I'd love to exchange links with you, as I am a knitting knerd too, as well as the mother of a 9 year old girl with Autism.

[paula]

I'm late commenting, but this level of writing makes it clear why I don't have a blog.