Why beads?
I don't exactly know what it is about them. I just love them. I love the teeniest tiniest seed bead. I love faceted gemstones. I love shiny pearls. I love them all, really. I've never met a bead that wasn't worth a second look.
My love affair with beads started when I was very young. I don't remember the official beginning, but I have always horded beads and objects (which I would learn much later in life have a more official name---"findings") to use in constructing jewelry. I also collected delicate little containers, like mint tins, sample-sized jelly jars, and film canisters, to sort them all out. My early creative processes mostly involved just tying on a clasp (no doubt something I had scrounged off a decrepit old piece of broken costume jewelry) and stringing seed beads onto dental floss (mmm... mint). The only bead stores my home town had were what I still refer to as "hippie bead stores." For some reason, hippies sell really pretty beads, right there with patchouli essential oil, hacky sacks, and tie-dye shirts; I have never understood the cause/effect relationship with hippies and beads, but I appreciate it anyway.
The desire to create something with my hands has always driven me... jewelry, scrapbooking, crafting, etc. Beads as a creative medium has waxed and waned and waxed and waned through the years. The motivator (you fellow crafters probably get this): Inspiration. And of course, there is the Great Confining Factor (everyone gets this): Time. It can be difficult finding the inspiration to make something beautiful and even harder finding the time in which to make it. And it is rarer still that the two should coincide.
When Little Bug came into my life, the thought occurred to me that I could---somehow!---use beads to raise awareness of OI. The inspiration. I began imagining all the ways I could use beads to portray some aspect of OI. The only problem was that I had a newborn baby, so I could only let my ideas marinate for, oh, 20 months or so because I sure didn't actually have the time to do much with them! Not all my jewelry is OI-inspired. As I said before, I really just love beads, and I make all kinds of jewelry.
So, why beads? After much rambling, I haven't exactly answered that question. I feel like beads are really the only creative gift I have to give of myself. My hope is to raise awareness of OI, one bead at a time. I'm not sure how much of this really makes sense to the audience at large, but I am excited to begin sharing my beads with you!
Monday, July 11, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Sigh! Another fracture...
All the best intentions can become very unimportant within just a few moments.
I had intended to write more about Little Bug and a lot about beads over the past few weeks, but life got put on hold after a nasty compound humerus fracture (our worst fracture to date). That Thursday started out innocently enough. Little Bug and I had a wonderful morning at home, playing and watching movies. We had some time before nap, so we went to the library. Little Bug * loves * the library. I am so happy that my bug is a tad geeky like me (and his Dada) and loves books. Of course, he also loves playing with the MegaBlocks at the library; they are much more fun than the exact same set of MegaBlocks we have at home.
Events at the library were without incident until we were checking out our books. Then he fell. The whole scene is hazy in my memory. He was beside me, standing, by the checkout computer, then he was on the ground screaming. I don't know how many eyes we attracted as I carefully picked him up and rushed him to a lonely corner to assess. At first, I checked his head, since I saw that bump the floor. Nothing, no bumps, no redness. Then I saw his arm. It looked awful, beyond description really, just hanging there.
That is the moment I kicked into Emergency Mode. I just acted. Looking back, emormous waves of gratitude flood me for having read the accounts and learned from the experiences of other OI parents out there. I administered pain meds, put his arm in a sling, and ace-wrapped it to him as best as I could. Then I calmly asked the librarian to please hold those books and that bag that I had left strewn across the floor in my haste, and I calmly marched out the door. I called his orthopedic surgeon and informed them we were on our way. The actual timing of the events of this paragraph in real life was maybe 3 minutes. It seemed like forever.
Then there was the real waiting... driving the hour to the doctor... waiting to be x-rayed... Little Bug was surprisingly quiet and comfortable. I was determined to be as calm as he was, but that truly was a test. I just knew, without seeing the x-rays, that they would be admitting us to the hospital and doing an early morning surgery to fix that arm. I just knew it. And sure enough, that is exactly what transpired.
Thursday night---the night following the break and before the surgery---was terrible. It took awhile to find the right mix of pain medications to keep him comfortable. There is no feeling so helpless as seeing your child in that much pain. Thankfully, the surgery the following day went as well as possible. Is it called "surgery" when the doctor is able to put a wire inside the bone without making one incision? (We love our orthopedic surgeon!!!)
![]()
One and a half weeks later: life is finally feeling more normal. Little Bug's time convalescing is always a challenge. Despite only having the use of one arm and not really being able to get where he wants to go as fast as he wants to go, his attitude really is amazing. He's such a star.
I struggled with writing this blog. I think the Mommy Guilt really hit me hard this time. I know it is not exactly my fault that he broke his arm, but there are about 20 things I would do differently to prevent that fracture if I could go back in time (like, No. 1: Don't go to the library, or No. 2: Don't let him walk by himself). Of course, this line of thinking is just a fruitless exercise. The balance between safety and letting my child explore on his own is very delicate. Perhaps I should have been making him use his walker. Maybe I will be better about that in the future. But shouldn't he get the chance to walk on his own? Or is that level of independence just too risky right now? Sigh.
I had intended to write more about Little Bug and a lot about beads over the past few weeks, but life got put on hold after a nasty compound humerus fracture (our worst fracture to date). That Thursday started out innocently enough. Little Bug and I had a wonderful morning at home, playing and watching movies. We had some time before nap, so we went to the library. Little Bug * loves * the library. I am so happy that my bug is a tad geeky like me (and his Dada) and loves books. Of course, he also loves playing with the MegaBlocks at the library; they are much more fun than the exact same set of MegaBlocks we have at home.
Events at the library were without incident until we were checking out our books. Then he fell. The whole scene is hazy in my memory. He was beside me, standing, by the checkout computer, then he was on the ground screaming. I don't know how many eyes we attracted as I carefully picked him up and rushed him to a lonely corner to assess. At first, I checked his head, since I saw that bump the floor. Nothing, no bumps, no redness. Then I saw his arm. It looked awful, beyond description really, just hanging there.
That is the moment I kicked into Emergency Mode. I just acted. Looking back, emormous waves of gratitude flood me for having read the accounts and learned from the experiences of other OI parents out there. I administered pain meds, put his arm in a sling, and ace-wrapped it to him as best as I could. Then I calmly asked the librarian to please hold those books and that bag that I had left strewn across the floor in my haste, and I calmly marched out the door. I called his orthopedic surgeon and informed them we were on our way. The actual timing of the events of this paragraph in real life was maybe 3 minutes. It seemed like forever.
Then there was the real waiting... driving the hour to the doctor... waiting to be x-rayed... Little Bug was surprisingly quiet and comfortable. I was determined to be as calm as he was, but that truly was a test. I just knew, without seeing the x-rays, that they would be admitting us to the hospital and doing an early morning surgery to fix that arm. I just knew it. And sure enough, that is exactly what transpired.
Thursday night---the night following the break and before the surgery---was terrible. It took awhile to find the right mix of pain medications to keep him comfortable. There is no feeling so helpless as seeing your child in that much pain. Thankfully, the surgery the following day went as well as possible. Is it called "surgery" when the doctor is able to put a wire inside the bone without making one incision? (We love our orthopedic surgeon!!!)
One and a half weeks later: life is finally feeling more normal. Little Bug's time convalescing is always a challenge. Despite only having the use of one arm and not really being able to get where he wants to go as fast as he wants to go, his attitude really is amazing. He's such a star.
I struggled with writing this blog. I think the Mommy Guilt really hit me hard this time. I know it is not exactly my fault that he broke his arm, but there are about 20 things I would do differently to prevent that fracture if I could go back in time (like, No. 1: Don't go to the library, or No. 2: Don't let him walk by himself). Of course, this line of thinking is just a fruitless exercise. The balance between safety and letting my child explore on his own is very delicate. Perhaps I should have been making him use his walker. Maybe I will be better about that in the future. But shouldn't he get the chance to walk on his own? Or is that level of independence just too risky right now? Sigh.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)