(technically, I'm more of a mortgage-owner), a business owner, 
a mother of two, and have been out of my parents house almost as long as I was in it to start, I still don't feel like a grown up. For the most part I feel like a slightly-less surly teenager who is pretending to be a grown-up. Luckily, I'm not a teenager so I no longer believe that every moment of every day is the only moment that has ever and will ever exist. And I no longer write terrible poetry about my angst.When I first started making hats, I was always happy to take special orders. “Sure, I'll make you a hat exactly like this one except for totally different. I'll be happy to.” Only I'd never actually make the hat. The truth is, I hate being told what to do. The business-owning adult in my head says this is a great way to make money. The surly teen in my gut says “Why can't they just buy one of the awesome hats that I've already made?” Or “If you want a hat that looks like that, you should make it your own damn self.”
I don't tell you this because I'm proud of it. I o
nly tell you to set the stage as to what happened next. I was on a hat-making spree these past three weeks. I had a stack of yarn, and I decided to use it up making hats. I was on a roll. I made tons of them. 
I was creating new designs, new styles, new stitches, and new combinations of yarn the likes of which hadn't before been seen.
Then, out of the blue, the girlchild said to me, “This one needs a pom-pom.”I would have told you that I'm not really the pom-pom kind of handicrafter, but it seems that the one thing that can overcome the surly teen is the chance at wowing the girlchild.
So like generations of mothers and daughters since the beginning of yarn, we got our yarn, needles, and vanilla chais and gathered around youtube to learn to pom-pom. Only it turns out you don't need a needle. 
And the girl was right. The pom-pom rules.
And the girl was right. The pom-pom rules.
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