I don't generally post pictures of myself. even more rarely do i post pictures of my son.
But for this post....
This is us. In all our weird, punk rock, angry, tattooed, childish glory.
I'm 33. He's 19. That's not the point.
I've been crafty since I was a munchkin. I've encouraged his creativity every single day. Except for when he was living with dad, he's been out of trouble, spare a few fights, for it.
He sews. On a machine and by hand. He paints on cloth and makes his own punk rock patches. He crochets and knits. He cuts and folds paper. He stencils. He mends his own clothes. He quilts. He made his friend a black baby blanket with a skull on it, and his son his first black onsie with a punk rock patch. He makes tams for his dreadlocks. He knows how to cross stitch but doesn't like doing it because it frustrates him.
He's pretty fucking amazing, and rivals my craftiness. He's a master dumpster diver. He also restores furniture and electronics, irons like a professional, and is a master housekeeper.
I'm damn proud of my kid. He's pretty cool if you ask me. Completely teenage boy, plays guitar, skateboards, loves fast cars and loud music and pretty girls. Makes incredibly cool stuff with a sewing machine or a crochet hook. Or a blowtorch and some metal. Or a sharpie and a dumpster wall.
Me? I posted this before and I'll post it again. I like tea cozies and amigurumi too, but i am a skulls and rockabilly girl mingled with hippy and Buddhism. I am a mix of punk and pretty. I call it ecclectic. I like it all. I wear my tattoos with pride and my home made clothes.
F*** em. If I listened to what people said about me, thought about me, i'd never leave my home. Only things I listen to today are me, my truth, god, my son and the people I know care. The rest, well unless they are speaking my truth too, screw them. I ain't got time....too busy crafting =).
PS - You should see the looks my son and I get at JoAnns. I think they think we are going to rob the place. Also, pretty much everywhere we go, people guess we are dating, or brother and sister. They are freaked out to find out he is my son. Offended even. Many are offended just by how we look. The blue-hairs at hobby lobby literally shudder every time we come in. When he goes by himself they brace as if they are about to impact for a crash landing. He is raised to be polite, and kind. But I have had to grab him by the ear more than once for giving lip to someone for giving him a snide comment or look because he has chosen to express his individuality very openly. I tell him if this is how he wants to look, then he must bear the cross of comments and looks. He really gets fired up when they say something about me, or his girlfriend tho. But again, I have to remind him, we make our choices.
Do I think its right for people to open their pie holes? Absolutely not. But I didn't raise a violent man. I didn't raise a criminal. And I didn't raise a weakling. I raised a proud individual who can walk anywhere any free man can, and who can look or be anything he wants without fear. I'll be damned to hell if some blue-hair who thinks he has to be a 70 year old tea drinking woman to quilt will take that from him.