To say that I survived the new year.
And we got the new place.
And a team of Grandmas arrived and packed the old apartment. The Grandpas showed up to help us move.
I know where my yarn is, but am too tired to pick up the needles.
And the "p" button on my keyboard was damaged in the move. Weird.
Finally online again, though.
In a few days, I will get my life together, and I will show more pictures. :)
Until then.
Okay, I'm being facetious. I know exactly where my life went. Here:
With my adorable, sweet, wonderful little girl. But it keeps shocking me, just how far gone I am in love with her. My house kinda smells, I should be packing (we found a new place and will be moving as early as the 4th or as late at the 7th of January), grandmas keep stopping by wanting to hold the baby...but I just kinda carry on. Loving her. With all my heart. And hoping and praying for the day she starts sleeping through the night. Although I got my first real dose of terror this morning when, for the first time since she was born she didn't wake up fussy at 4am. I woke up at 4:27 am convinced she must be dead and rolled over in a panic to see which of us had killed her to find that she was totally asleep -- or had been until I rolled over in a panic and woke her up. Sigh.
There's been very little knitting here at Chez Lucy, since knitting requires two hands, and she likes to be held quite a lot, thank you very much. I have one thing to share that I made as Christmas present for my little nephew at my father's family:
A snowman hat for Sam, out of Berocco's Love It. The yarn was the right color, the price was right, and I have enough left over for one hat for Lucy, if I stripe it right, or two hats for Lucy, if I buy another skein of coordinating yarn.
I already showed off the socks for Amy's little ones, Lily and Vinnie (Lily is only three months older than Lucy, and they are both destined to grow up at Poppy and Grandma's as "Lily-I mean Lucy-I mean STOP THAT!"), and I apparently did not take pictures of the hats I made for Molly (a bunny ear hat out of Berocco Chincilla) and Tessa (a plain hat with little crocheted rosettes on top out of some stash wool... Manos, I think).
This was actually a great stash busting holiday, as the only yarn I had to buy was for Sam's hat. Go me!
If you haven't gotten enough of Miss Lucy, check out my photosite, where it's practically-all-Lucy, nearly all of the time.
Much love.
P.S. -- Yesterday was my birthday. I'm 28 now. Go me!
Dear World:
I am pleased to announce the arrival of Miss Lucy Joy Diana. She has Robb's last name, which you either, ya know, know or don't. It's all good.
Miss Lucy was born Sunday morning at 9:04am. Labor kicked in around 12:30 am with some wussy contractions (as much as contractions really ever count as wussy). By 1am I was thinking "No way after just starting that I'm having contractions 7 minutes apart." By 2am it was "4 minutes? Seriously?" Of course, there was a huge snowstorm starting, so I woke up Robb, we called my doctor, and were off to the hospital.
Side note: vomiting during a contraction is the worst thing ever. Ever. It beats vomiting with diharrea, vomiting with strep throat, any of that. Worst Thing Ever.
The labor, taking off so fast, was very intense. I lucked out and got the "Tub Room" at the hospital, and got to spend several hours in very warm water. It was super good. I was 4cm when I walked through the door, something that impressed the heck out of the nursing staff.
After about two hours, though my pressures started to jump up, and they started having trouble finding my little girl's heartbeat. When they could find it, it was irregular, going too fast during some contractions, too slow during others. By 7am, I think there were ten non-family people in my room, all trying to make us better so we could continue with our natural birth plan. But it was not meant to be. By about 8:30, they'd broken my water to get better fetal monitoring, both of her heartbeat and of the contractions, which meant I was on my back and in total agony. I'd've needed an epidural to continue to labor, but they realized her heartbeat was dropping AFTER every contraction, not DURING or BEFORE, and we were getting prepped for a c-section.
The surgery went beautifully, and Robb got to be there, and hold the baby for me while they stitched me up. As soon as I was stable, the put her right on my chest and covered us up so we could have some time together.
I hemorraged twice after the surgery, almost needed a transfusion (but didn't, in the end, because even though my crit was low, I was asymptomatic, so they decided it wasn't worth the risk of blood products, but I had to swear to take vitamins with iron), and got to go home yesterday morning. Miss Lucy is unbelievably healthy, and I'm doing surprisingly well -- both my nurses, one of the residents, and the lactation consultant commented that there are mothers who give vaginal births that don't recover as well as I have done.
I think the best part of all of this is watching Robb fall utterly in love with his little girl. She adores him, turns toward him when he talks, and he loves her back. I could not be happier. I am not even upset about the loss of the natural birth -- I bitch a lot about how c-sections are unnecessary a lot of the time, how they can hurt mothers and so on and so forth...but mine saved lives. Probably not mine, but hers for sure. My doc was pretty sure that what happened was that the dancing back and forth with preeclampsia damaged the placenta; it held up fine throughout the pregnancy, but during the stress of labor, couldn't supply my baby with enough oxygen. By the time they got her out, she was covered with meconium, and they had to suction out her lungs and stomach. If my doctor had dilly-dallied, if I'd fought to keep laboring -- I might not have had this beautiful little girl here with me.
All the good pictures were taken by the grammas, or are on my phone. I'll work on getting them up on the photosite, and let you know when they're there. In the meantime, please say hello to my little Lucy!
I am still pregnant.
I get emails from various people asking on a regular basis. My mother is calling twice a day to find out if "anything's happening." It's all very gently entertaining. I'm trying not to be stressed.
My gut feeling is that it won't be too much longer, but I have no medical evidence to support this fact. We'll see what happens.
I've actually been knitting some! I have these to show you:
These are the Better Than Booties Baby Socks; the pattern is free on the Interweave Knits website, and mine are knit from the leftovers of Blue Moon Fiber Arts Seduction that Tammy sent me many moons ago. I loves them, I do. The bindoff went a little haywire due to the cats suddenly deciding to slaughter each other and running away with my knitting, but if you can't see it from a galloping horse...
These two are for the other two little babies in my life; my step-sister just had twins back in October, and they should be just about sized right for now -- it's kinda scary that her twins are hitting newborn size just about as mine is likely to be born. Oh my goodness! Both of these patterns are as-written out of Cat Bordhi's New Pathways; I still love the book. Some people have expressed frustration with the way you have to flip around to find the bind off here and the cast on there and the heel construction here, but it works out for me; I figure once I get the hang of it, I won't even notice. And it certainly allowed her to condense a lot more information into the book, so I'll live with it.
The top pair are out of Frog Tree Alpaca; the bottom pair of Cashsoft DK, with Be Sweet boucle baby mohair for the "laces".
Other projects I need to finish by Christmas: three hats out of the Itty Bitty Hats book (yes, Karin, I know I protested that I'd never use that darned book again, and I still have some reservations, but the Bunny Ear hat is so adorable! And the Snowman hat! Oh my goodness!) And the cool thing is that I shouldn't have to buy any yarn for Christmas presents, other than for the snowman hat, because the other two hats I'm going to make -- well, one is almost done, and was knit from some stashed Chincilla, and the other will be knit from an as-yet-undisclosed stash yarn. Undisclosed because I haven't made up my mind yet. :)
Not giving to any of the grown-ups this year...still need to think of a couple of books to buy for my cousins...I'm officially *that person* in my family, and it would be easy, except that these three siblings have passed down all the books I've given them, so not only do I have to remember what I gave Emily and Erin last year, I also have to remember what I gave Connor when he was eight...five years ago...so I always try and get whatever just came out in paperback. I'm usually safe that way. :)
Finished my ridiculously expensive and impossible-to-wash Berocco baby blanket, the one that will (I hope) be heartlessly destroyed and loved within an inch of its life...I also received a gorgeous blanket that I haven't managed to take a good picture of (it needs sunlight, and the sun hides every time I take out my camera). But, I'll get a good picture when I can, and let me publicly say -- "B!! I love it! Did you knit it yourself? It's wonderful!"
I'm sorry to be so boring lately...life is just very...well. Calm, with an undertone of "Um. Now? Please? Anytime now would be fine." We're trying to find a new place to live, so we know whether or not we need to start packing, and everything else is kind of up in the air subjected to that. Frustrating, but there we are. And, as I started this post out by saying, I am so full of baby that, according to Robb, I even smell like baby.
Oh well. I suppose it could be worse. :)
Much love.
So, yesterday was the laugh I needed. I've hit the part of my grief process where all I want to do is sleep, and Saturday, sleep I did. I think I napped two out of every four hours, and still went to sleep for another 6 at night. Crazy crazy crazy talk.
Sunday was the baby shower thrown by my step-mother and step-sisters-in-law. Mary Jane (my stepmom) had offered to postpone, but I asked her not to; I really needed the day out. It was great; lots of lovely gifts (aka phat l00tz) followed by laughing like crazy as the ladies ran through all the champagne in my father's house in the form of mimosas, and then, when the champagne ran out, they switched to screwdrivers. It was hysterical, and tremendously fun, and I feel a little more alive today.
There's snow on the ground and more falling from the sky. It's a beautiful day out. I'll take pictures when the sun comes up as much as it will in the middle of a snowfall like this. I'm glad Robb has the day off, so we can snuggle up against the cold and just enjoy the day. Or, ya know, play Guitar Hero 3, my early Christmas present. Whatever.
Not tons of knitting going on right now, partially because every time I sit down I fall asleep, and partially because I'm just getting impatient for the baby's arrival, and everything that makes me think of "It could still be a little while" just makes me irritable. I know, it makes no sense. But there we are.
I'll find a picture of something knit for tomorrow, I promise.
In the meantime, much love, and if there's snow where you are, enjoy it! Alison, it's too powdery right now for a snowball, but I promise I will as soon as I can.
Yesterday afternoon, about 5pm, I got the call that my Aunt Diane had passed away in the respite house, after her five year battle with different kinds of cancer. Started with breast cancer in 2002, when they removed some lymph nodes and did some radiation. She seemed to be in recovery for a lot of years, but two years ago, she developed a kind of leukemia that just isn't very pleasant. Really, her survival for this long is a miracle in and of itself, and as much as I can truly ask of my deity of choice; we didn't think she'd make it through last Christmas, much less this one.
She went peacefully, in the end, with her children and her sisters there with her. She said her only regret was not getting to meet my baby, and I told her in no uncertain terms that I expected her to be there for my delivery, watching over me, regardless of what sort of body she had in order to get there. She'll take care of me, I know, I have no fear of that.
And I hope that, in the next life, she can find more peace than she had in this one.
went to the doc again today (oh the joys of late pregnancy and frequent office visits) and my blood pressure was high again, still protein in places there shouldn't be. I got to go to Labor and Delivery this time for non-stress test monitor, more pee tests, more blood tests. Everything looks fine, but...but...
They want me to stay pregnant until 39 weeks, which is only a week and a day from now, and then if my pressures stay high, they'll probably want to induce me. That's not the biggest deal. But still.
Any good thoughts you can spare would be appreciated.
Thanks muchly.
For that day when I got stubborn and made my mom and step-dad come over and put in railings on the basement stairs, rather than trying to force my landlord into it (a lost cause, regardless of the law. I also don't have storm windows, a hardwired CO2 detector, or proper insulation.
If I did not have railings, I'm pretty sure we'd be on our way to the ER right now.
At it is, my toes on my right foot hurt, I bruised a finger, and scraped my arm. This is a much, much better alternative.
Thanks, God. Thumbs up to you. :)
Love,
me
Bonus points if you can identify that song. B, if this isn't a gimme for you, I'm ashamed of you.
So, finished work on Saturday. Hoorah! Bosslady still needs to learn about boundaries, as she was trying to talk work with me on Sunday, when I was in shopping for "employee appreciation" (i.e. please spend money! Have 40% off!). I dumped her on a customer and made a break for the door. She says she'll call me. We'll see if I answer the phone.
So, it's been an exciting week in knitting world, as I've finally managed to actually pick up my needles again after a long break. I have a few irons in the fire, but here's what I want to show off right now:
I got Cat Bordhi's new book.
Oh. My. Goodness. This is like sock knitter paradise. This is like having someone say "Yes, I know the sky is blue *most* days, but what about the days its gray? Or kind of steel? or that funny purple color around the edges? Don't those days count too?"
I'm in love with this book. I want to knit every pair of socks in here, especially the baby socks. Mom's already been pointing at a couple of different things and saying "Ooo. I like those. Oh, I really like those. Ooo, THOSE are really nice!"
So yesterday, skipping the class socks (I'm such a rebel), I cast on for these. Yarn is Fleece Artist Merino (I assume it's the 2/6, it's the stuff everyone sells as sock yarn, anyway, and I got mine at The Loopy Ewe before everyone in the world figured out how great the shop was and now I can't ever find the fun stuff in stock before crazy people with ten times as much stash as I have have already snapped it up (not that I can afford anything right now anyway). The colorway was listed as Renaissance. The needles are Addi Turbos, size...0, I believe. I default down a size in needles always. I probably could have gone down one more and gotten a slightly closer gauge on these, but I'll just make the foot a teeny bit short, and all will be well in the end. It's the exact opposite of how I knit socks for Alison, actually.
But truly. Cat Bordhi's never set my hair on fire before. Socks on two circs...okay. The yucky looking self-published books...okay. Great. Thanks. I'm off with Nancy Bush, thank you. Until that vogue knitting sock issue, with the sock knit from two strands of trekking. Those...wow. In love. So totally in love. And if I remember correctly, those socks had a strange architecture...you started toe up, and you knit the increases in a v on top of the foot. There's a similar pattern in the New Pathways book. And I was enchanted with them, and the fit, and way they were rethought.
And this entire book is like that.
So, the first socks are the Sky Architecture socks, the ones straight out of the first picture, I forget the name of the pattern and am too lazy to walk across the room today. They are for me me me and I'm knitting them because when visiting my Aunt Diane in the hospital last week, I remembered just how COLD hospitals tend to get, and I thought "socks will be nice." And then when I was cleaning the bedroom, a pair of suede slipper bottoms fell from the sky (or at least I don't recall buying them, EVER) and I thought -- how perfect. Now I can make myself lovely warm socks that won't slip on the yucky blucky linoleum. It's a good day.
For those tracking the personal news -- baby and I are still healthy. My blood pressure spiked up a little bit last week, and since it was the holiday and the docs were playing it conservative, I won an all expenses NOT paid trip to the lab to find out if I was developing preeclampsia. Answer: no. Good! It wouldn't be a huge deal at this point anyway, they'd just induce me rather than waiting for me to go into labor naturally, but still...scary. Meanwhile, my aunt is doing pretty poorly. She's been moved to the Respite House, since there's nothing more the doctors can think of to try. I didn't even know that leukemia can attack your skin, but she's covered in welts the size of blueberries that are apparently related to what the leukemia is doing to her blood. She says they don't hurt once they come up, just when they're starting to happen, they itch and burn and feel awful. She says she'd still like very much to be here to see my baby, and do I think I can see if I can make it happen this week?
I smiled and hugged her and tried not to cry. If she isn't physically here, I know she'll be watching over me while I labor, but that thought is both a comfort and a sadness that is unfathomable in both directions.
Much love.
To the more-or-less date.
We're not talking about the possibility of late babies around here. As far as I'm concerned, December 13th is a late baby, as I was originally promised that I would be due December 6th, and was therefore planning a late date of the 13th. So, um, yeah. Plus, this kid is totally a Sagitarius (the only thing that calms my stomach when it's in a rage is spicy food), so she has to be born before December 20th, right?
Despite the number of people commenting on how "cute" it would be to have a Christmas baby, I know better. I was born December 28th. I've never had a proper birthday in my life, and most everyone, if they remember my birthday in their Christmas haze at all, sends a joint Christmas-birthday present. Hmph. At least, if I can birth the kid in mid-December, she'll have a fighting chance of being remembered. I think you have to be better off in the ramp-up than in the let down.
7 more days of work. Then my leave begins. This means that I'm taking a hit with a couple of unpaid days but -- and you can say this with me if you want -- I. Don't. Care. I'm not concerned about the money, Robb and I still have a significant portion socked away, and I just can't survive the work of labor and newborn-ness if I'm running around frantically at work. Although, who knows, maybe I'll report my new-and-improved pelvic pain to my doc on Friday and she'll decide I need bedrest. I wouldn't complain about that. But even if she doesn't, that's a mere 42 hours left in that stupid building. My new boss is no better than the old one, and is possibly even worse.
So, November 25th, I'm free. I will curl up and knit tiny things and putter around the house and take walks and watch Planet Earth again. And again. And maybe again. And I'll be a little more rested for when it comes time to welcome my little one into the world.
I knit one pair of baby pants out of some Knitpicks Shine I had lying around, and then started a second pair that are more fun. I will fiddle around and show them to you tomorrow I suspect.
I posted more pics of stash and -- goddess help me -- some WIPs on the photosite.
I also found some really wonderful new tea -- Lipton's white tea with pomegranate and blueberry. I think it's funny that the box says something like "with real blueberries!" because it made me think "And fake pomegranate?"
I think that's all of my news.
Erm...yes. :)
Smiles.
...about nesting.
Robb already said his fill while laughing at me.
The fact that I want the stash to be organized is nothing to comment on. I can't imagine why you would. Not at all.
If you want to see the newest level of insanity that I've hit, check out my photo site. And no, of course that isn't all of it. It's a start. I can see what I have (and I found two skeins of Lisa Souza's yarn that I was starting to suspect had somehow been lost). I need to figure out how it can go back into the closet and be organized there, as well. I'm really not sure how that's going to happen.
What will be really scary is if I start photographing WIPs. That would make me start being a bit more honest about where all my knitting needles are, huh?
Meantime, I'm off to knit Lenore. I want my second sock done, please. :)
There will possibly be more photoshoot later. I'm not terribly concerned about color authenticity, I don't really want to sell anything (that I've found so far), this is more for me to start being more aware of what I have so that I can a.) not feel guilty when I want something I really really don't possess already and b.) stop myself when I want something that is exactly like three things I already own.
It's a good theory, anyway.
Much love.
Red Sox socks: Finished.
They fit the recipient quite well (and it's a mark of how swollen my poor feets are that they also fit me perfectly). Plus, according to all, they played a significant role in the Red Sox winning their second championship this decade, so that particular someone had just better love them. :)
But, what did I do when these were done? Did I pick out another pair of half done socks from the basket that lives under the living room table? Did I leap immediately into a second sock, knowing that with my sock urge needing to be scratched, and that it was a perfect time to complete a pair that had been stymieing me for more than a year?
Just what blog do you think you're reading here?
Did I, in fact, cast on for Lenore with needles that were probably a titch too small, but were available, and when I realized that gauge just wasn't going to work, even for stretchy lacy socks, did I reach into the basket and rip the needles out of a second sock that has been on hiatus since last June or so?
Yep, that's the me you know and love. I'm showing enough restraint with all the things I've not done since I got pregnant. There is no need to add "knitting" to the restricted list.
I'm in love with this sock. The color shown above is pretty crap, but it's a rainy day outside, brightening the indoor lights just made the purple show up garishly, which it really really isn't. It's this subtle thread running through, breaking up the solid black of the sock, making it just that little bit of flirty goth, instead of emo-I-cut-myself-for-you-goth. There's some implication in the newsletter that came with the sock kit that this is a series of colors...if so, I can't wait to see the rest of them!
Let's see, life updates...second birthing class was much more useful. The first one was "why you want a natural birth," which I feel like I get, or else I wouldn't be there. The second was more "things you can do to get a natural birth," and that was much more useful. The yoga section focussed on things and positions your partner can help you be in to be comfortable while having contractions, and I know Robb appreciated that part a lot more. He also got kudos from the other guys because it was our turn to bring a snack and he put his foot down at the grocery store, insisting that we get some crazy jalapeno cheese that was a HUGE hit with the men-folk. So, all in all, success.
Baby is very healthy; she's more or less in position, head down, turned to the side, which is all good...I'm feeling cozy about all of this, because I feel like I'm ready, and she's acting like she's ready, so I'm not scared of the birth-part, and I know that's the most important thing. I don't know that it'll be fun, but I do hope it will be exhilarating and empowering. One really meaningful thing someone said to me early on in my pregnancy was birth was incredibly intense, but that the trick was not believing everyone else who told you that it was painful, because the intensity didn't have to translate into PAIN in the sense that you're going to rip apart, fall apart, or be torn apart. I've focussed on that difference between pain and intensity for awhile, meditating on it in my quiet way. I'll let ya know how it works out for me!
Now, the sad news...my Aunt Diane, briefly in remission, once more has leukemia cells circulating in her blood stream. This time, there's nothing they can do. So, we might have weeks, maybe a month...I feel broken hearted over this, I wanted so badly for her to see my baby, but for me to wish for that right now might be to wish my little girl into the world premature, and I know my aunt wouldn't want that of us. So we'll go visit this afternoon, and we'll trust in the wisdom of the universe, and if necessary, I'll remember that she'll have the best view of all the day my baby comes into the world.
Do me a favor today? Go love someone, okay?
Thanks.
Seriously, how does so much time go by? I don't understand it at all.
In the past two weeks, I've become more and more convinced that I won't return to my current job after my leave is over, more and more convinced that I'm going to do okay at this mom thing, and more and more convinced that I need more sleep.
Especially the last one.
Robb & I went to our first childbirth class...I don't know that we exactly learned anything, but it's reassuring. Session #2 is tonight, with luck it will be more...I don't know, I'll think about it and be clearer later.
I got the prettiest thing in the mail today.
I've been a member of the Socks that Rock club for almost two years. It's one of the few things that I've joined impulsively that I haven't regretted. Other things (i.e. Ravelry) have bored my, well, socks off. The STR club has been...awesome. I've gotten great sock patterns, exposure to colors I'd never pick for myself. Good stuff.
Today's color though, takes the cake. The pie. The everything-but-the-girl. I have to tell you first that I opened the package and thought o...kay. Why do I have black yarn? And then I pulled the skein out of the package and realized it wasn't black, it was raven.
Don't believe me? See for yourself.
And yes, they put on the spiders.
Is that not gorgeous? I couldn't believe how lovely it was...I pet it for the longest time. I haven't knit many of the patterns this year, not through any malice, just because I've had other things on my mind. There are half finished socks EVERYWHERE but none that I can actually, ya know, put on my feet and WEAR.
But these. These will be cast on as soon as I can free up the needles.
Meanwhile...
THE RED SOX WON THE WORLD SERIES FOR THE SECOND TIME IN MY LIFETIME!!!!
Sorry if that got a little bit out of control just then. But really!
And what was I doing while the Red Sox were kicking Colorado's heiny? I was knitting. Socks, of course. I needed something to do with my hands during Game 1, and then they won, so if I'd tried to show up without the socks, I'd've been sent home again for them.
These are for Robb. I offered to reverse-stockinette an 07 into them, but he gave me a goofy look and said "Do you really think I wouldn't remember when you knit them for me?" Awww.... The yarn is Gendarme, by Lisa Souza, plain Sock! if memory serves. I bought this at the same time that I bought the skein Lisa dyed special for me in the same colors but slightly more superman-y proportions. Robb says these are just as superman-y, plus they are also now Red Sox socks. Just a plain vanilla sock, I don't even use a pattern anymore, cast on 72 stitches and go to town. Heel is eye-of-the-whichever-bird, kitchener'd toe.
You should have seen everyone when I finished the toe in the 5th inning. I had to not weave in the ends so as to avoid Red Sox superstitions.
Okay, it's our turn to bring snacks to class, so we have to go to the store now...see you later, when I will whine and fuss about not being able to find the pattern for the baby sweater I'm working on!
Much love.
Okay, not much of a trip, but my friend Melissa unknowingly decided to lift me out of my missing-Stitches funk by insisting that we were going to Waterbury, VT, to see the foliage and the Cabot cheese outlet and the Cold Hollow Cider Mill. I managed to get a third Saturday in a row off (go me!) and we took off.
It was so gorgeous, I can't even tell you. People who visit VT always tell me "You live in such a beautiful place," but you're almost forced to be jaded by it if you live here. It's like some sort of secret club requirement. If you stop and stare at the changing foliage, you're not REALLY a Vermonter. And for someone who's family has lived here for generations, it's an important distinction, between us and the flatlanders who just got here a mere two or three generations ago.
So, for a day, I played tourist. I got the best apple cider donuts I've ever had in my life, enough fresh, local jam to last me this year and half of next (four jars, and I refuse to open the next one until I've finished the one I'm on, because otherwise I will literally starve while I debate raspberry vs strawberry), these unbelievable maple sugar candies, some fantastic cheese that I should have gotten more of, a bottle of Mac Jack hard cider for when I'm not pregnant anymore... and a fantastic day with a good friend.
And some awesome pictures. In the sense of, at least for me, inspiring awe.
Without comment (except to say that the one with the old, swaybacked barn perfectly describes what I feel Vermont is), because I think they speak for themselves.
So, here's the thing.
I call myself a yarn snob frequently. I don't like the feel of Caron or Red Heart between my fingers. I like wool, cashmere, silk, hemp, linen. Fibers that grew somewhere on the earth, not just in the bones of dinosaurs. I'm okay with this about myself. It means that I have less yarn that some people I know, because the stuff I like is expensive (though not as expensive as it was when I started knitting a lot in college -- the options have expanded wildly since then), it means that I don't tend to knit adult sized sweaters or blankets, and instead have fallen in love with the intricacy of a cabled sock, the delicate nature of a fair isle glove.
But suddenly, this label has been turned against me by a couple of people I care about. And I'm not sure how I feel about that. Because even though I'm a self-labeled yarn snob, I've always been very careful to specify that I'm a snob about what *I* knit. If you want to knit an entire house of sweaters out of Redheart, and that works for you, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, have a party! Please, for goodness sakes, don't let me get in your way. Knitting is about what we ENJOY, what we LOVE...and if you don't love it, then what the hell's the point? Alternatively, if you do love it, let no one in the world gainsay you -- least of all, little old me!
I've received no less than three hand knit gifts for the baby so far. Well, technically, the afghan that Joyce's mom made was for me, too, but we all know who that gigantic cabled beauty was REALLY for. So, acrylic afghan from Mary, acrylic yellow dress from Mary (picture is on the phanfare link from last post, I'll get a better picture as I put the clothes away and come across it again, promise!), and the sweet bootie and bonnet set that Ranee sent. If I were really a yarn snob, I'd detest Mary's presents and love Ranee's, right? (and Ranee, I'm sorry to use you as an example here, but you'll understand in a mo). But that's not the case. I LOVE EVERY ONE OF THESE THINGS without regard to the material they were made from. Why?
Because someone took time out of their busy day, their hectic world, to make something for me. For my little tiny person who doesn't officially all the way exist yet. Someone stopped and said, "I want to surround that little being with enough love and magic and miracles that they'll know how warm and precious and treasured they are from their very first moment on the earth." I don't give a crap what material you chose to express that sentiment with -- from the aunt who sent a Borders gift card, to the cashmere booties, I except and appreciate and adore every single expression of true love given to my baby. Even the frilly panted outfits that make my inner-quasi-feminist want to snarl (why oh why do women, even tiny women, still need ruffles on their ass? I don't understand it!) because they're not to my personal taste...the fact is that people thought of me, of Robb, of our little one, and they cared enough to try and help. What kind of a person would I be if I rejected those gifts?
So why am I ranting about this today? Because not once, but twice before the shower, I had someone that I love and adore approach me and say that they would have made me something, but I was such a snob about yarn that they didn't think it was worth it for them to waste their time, because I would hate what they would make. Because they wouldn't spend a lot on the yarn.
I was so flabbergasted both times something like this happened that I just couldn't defend myself. I don't think it would have done much good anyway. But it stung. It really stung. It has stung for a week. I keep going back to it, turning those moments over, wondering what, exactly, I did wrong to make my friends think that I loved their time and their effort so little. Or do they not value their time and their love enough, thinking that it's only the monetary value of the gift that's worthwhile, not understanding that the least of handmade gifts can transcend the most expensive of store bought ones? Is it their own lack of experience in this realm that makes them concerned?
I don't know, and it leaves me at a loss. I invite your thoughts. Tell your friends to come and tell me what they think. I don't get it. I really don't.
Well, I survived the experience. Which somewhat surprised me. I'm not good at all-women events. I tend to say things that seem perfectly sensible to me, but leave everyone else staring at me...and it just...well.
For pictures, go here. I handed someone else my digital camera and let them go to town. I've got a few other pictures from other people I'll add as I get time.
I had more to say, but my brain just went bleeeeeergh and it's all gone now.
I'm bummed out...I was supposed to be in Washington DC this weekend, hanging out with Alison and B and going to Stitches. But we couldn't afford it, and I had to give up having the four day weekend, and...and...
Sad.
Oh well. I'll manage. I always do. :)
Think good apartment thoughts for me...we really need a better place to live.
Much love!
...yes, life, that's my ass. I see you've got your footballing boots on, so go ahead, give it a good kick.
The past two weeks...I don't know what it is about them. I think ultimately the problem is that insomnia plus raging hormones was a pretty poorly planned combination (are you listening to me, God? You reading this?) especially when you consider that there's a poor spouse who's just trying to hang on for dear life and surf the waves until the next two months or so have gone by.
Poor Robb. I am totally making up for having been relatively level for the first six months of this pregnancy. I am turning into a screeching, name-calling, flipping out kind of woman, for no reason at all. He's not in the most stable place himself, really, looking for a job, feeling guilty because he's not feeling like he's supporting his family (we're fine, really, it's just less fun than it's been for a long time, especially since I want to buy everything under the sun, first to make myself feel pretty and second to dress up my adorable little baby). We've had a lot of conversations about what we want, what we need, what we're going to do for my maternity leave and after, and we're financially solvent, even if he doesn't find a job until April or so. After that, things could get very hairy, but I have complete faith in him. He is not adding to my stress, no matter what every one else seems to think.
What is adding to my stress is my stupid, stupid job. The Boss left on that Thursday, and then my DM went on vacation. Um. Okay. Except for the part where he actively promised my co-manager and I that he would not leave us in exactly this situation -- where it's her and I trying to run the store and not go insane. We're both starting to eye the door in a spectacularly unhealthy fashion. I've been putting out applications at random, just to see what's out there...because I don't know if I can continue to hack this. I'm so damned tired, so ... ugh.
IN KNITTING NEWS! I unbound the edge of the blankie, did the blue stripe and found out...I didn't have enough yarn.
I thought about ripping back. I thought about buying more yarn (about $30 more, because I'd need another skein of each color). I thought about how unsatisfied I was with the narrow length v width of the blanket.
And then I remembered that I'm not one of those crazy perfectionist knitters. I let the blue stripe be a little less wide than all the other stripes. I proceeded on to the yellow and had exactly enough yarn. It's a sign. When I finish this thing, if someone catches the narrow blue stripe, seriously, I will give them a dollar.
Meantime, go check out my photo site. Tell me what you think. Phanfare is my favorite for just looking like a photo album; it's not trying to get me to join communities or post pictures in obscure contests...it's just "here's your pictures, ma'am." Thank you, Phanfare. :)
I'm going to go waddle off, find some breakfast, and wait for it to be time for my baby shower. I have to play silly games about tasting baby food in order to get the presents I was promised. I'm okay with that. :)
Smiles,
K
I feel I have failed you in this, and I am sorry.
My job has gone completely insane since The Boss left. Don't misunderstand, it's better with him gone, better by a thousand fold, but I think Heather and I are being slowly crushed under a mountain of paperwork and stupidity that should be easier to just, well, avoid. And I had a stupid day full of vapid bubbleheads who wandered up to me and said "Um, I'm looking for a book?" And then waited.
Sorry, all out.
Actually, the best conversation went like this.
I answered the phone, "Thank you for calling Big Chain Bookstore in My Hometown, this is Kristine, how can I help you?" (Periodically, corporate tries to make me say "Thank you for calling Big Chain Bookstore where you can get our newest mass produced and completely uninteresting book release for 30% off, my name is Kristine, how can I provide you with excellent service today?" but if they ever really try to enforce that, my career with BCB will officially be done. Immediately. )
The voice on the other end said "I'm looking for a cookbook."
I waited, sure there was more. Then said, "Well, yes, I've got a whole section. Is there a particular cookbook you'd like?"
"One on crock pots."
Ah. One of these conversation. "Yes, I've got a whole cooking section on crockpots, with about fifty titles. Do you know the title of the book you're looking for?"
"It's about low fat crock pots."
I spent a humorous moment considering the possibilities of fatty crockpots -- crubby crockpots wandering around with a bag of potato chips in tow -- then said "Yes, most crockpot cooking is low fat these days. Is there a particular title I can find for you?" I'm trying to say this differently every time so that I'm not calling the woman an idiot.
"Oh dear. No, there isn't a name. Just...I need a cookbook. About crockpot cooking. The low fat kind."
Sigh. "Yes, well, as I said, we have several. Perhaps the best bet would be for you to come down to the store and look through the section so that you could find one that would suit your needs."
Huge angry sigh from her. "But I can't get there today."
I couldn't help myself. I tried, I really did. But I just couldn't not say, "I expect some of them will still be here tomorrow."
She said "Oh, all right then."
And hung up.
This is how I spend my days.
I'm going to go unbind an afghan edge and see if I have enough yarn to do a third repeat of these colors. It's not that the afghan isn't big enough, but it looks...unbalanced to me. And that annoys me. So I'll give it a shot. If I have to rip back and rebind off, you'll know all about it.
I think I'm going to go watch a whiny vampire while I do it.
Also, I'm browsing around for a good photo album site. I have lots of relatives in distant places, and rather than filling up my inboxes and theirs or spending a fortune on photo printing, I thought I'd get an album site set up and send out emails when new albums go up. My current favorite is Phanfare...what else do you know of? I'm not opposed to a small monthly fee, as it'll still be cheaper than sending my thirty-plus aunts the various pictures they all will want. Without even discussing Our Robb's family.
Much love,
me
And I don't know why.
I slept enough, I had a great morning, it was a good day, we went out for lunch, I played a little WoW -- and then, all of a sudden, the day just collapsed in on me, leaving me in a mean, grouchy, awful mood. Less than fun. My cats are making me insane. I think they're doing it on purpose. They're yelling and screaming and then getting mad when I yell back. No, it's not sane. I didn't say it was, why do you ask. :(
Anyway.
My aunt Karmen came to visit from Germany last Saturday, that was fantastically fun. We got the whole family together and ate lunch out at a restaurant I've always wanted to go to but never been able to go to. I got prezzies!
B, the onesie says "You never know how far you have to go to discover something new until you've found it." It's a classic Pooh onesie. There are matching white pants as well, and I'm worried about the fact that pants for someone who is 6 months old have pockets. That weirds me out. My friend who used to work at babyGap says that it's because people WON'T BUY pants that don't have pockets, because it stops babies looking like minipeople. Really weirds me out.
And I'm completely over the moon about the fact that there is someone coming into my world whose feet are that tiny. I mean, wow.
The baby blanket is probably done.
I've only done two repeats instead of three, but I might go ahead and do the third after all, if I have yarn enough. Which I won't know until I rip out the bind off and try. And if I have to rip back and bind off again because I don't have enough yarn, I might get irritable. We'll see how it goes. I'll decide when I feel less like a B-I-T-C-H.
Joan asked for the pattern -- it's free from Berocco here. The yarn is Berocco's Plush and Touche, five colors of each. If you decide to knit this, CHECK YOUR GAUGE or you will completely run out of yarn. I did get gauge (can you believe it??) but I may run out anyway. We'll see.
Incidentally, the colors in that picture on the website are ugly; the real colors of the yarn are much prettier. :)
My aunt is doing slightly better. After I got corrected on the blood count thing, I asked my mom what her doctors were considering normal, and what the info we were getting meant, just so we'd all be on the same page. Her doctor considers 2800 -- or 28 -- to be normal. My aunt has been around 2 -- or 200 -- for about a week now. Apparently, they climbed back up again, to about 5. It's a baby step, I guess. She's feeling well enough that she's bored and irritable about being in the hospital, which I personally consider to be the best sign of all of them. She's apparently really worked up about probably not being able to go to the baby shower this weekend, but Mom promised to talk to the nurses and find out when she'll be healthy enough for me to visit, and then I'll swing up and wear a mask and everything. Because even if she were well enough to come on Saturday, if she got sick again from being there, I'd feel so awful it just wouldn't be worth it.
And finally, everyone should go say hello to my friend Harriet who got suckered into blogging by all my nattering. She's a crocheter who's trying to get back to knitting -- currently, she needs sock tips. Go say hello!
Much love to you all,
-me
...but life should be getting better from here. My boss's last day was today. He stormed out at 3pm after the DM informed him that today was his last day. He told my co-manager "I know this screws you guys for tonight, but I don't really care." So much for leaving on good terms, but at least he's gone. The district manager promises us a new general manager in the next three weeks. We'll see. It will do a lot for my faith and loyalty if that happens. In the meantime, it's a survival game. Keep the store running, start the process of improving our situation, and don't burn out or go crazy in the meantime.
Entertaining short story -- went to the doctor last week, asked her about working less. She agrees that I need to work less. I ask for a doctor's note. Nope. There's no medical reason for me to work less. I just need to talk to my boss and "work it out." I say that I'm certain they will make any accommodations they need to...but they need some sort of documentation that says my doctor thinks I should work less. Again, she refuses, saying that I should just cut back my hours. I try to explain why this isn't possible (I'll lose my job, lose my health insurance, and these things are, ya know, bad?), and she says I shouldn't worry about those things. The money stuff, according to her, just "works itself out."
Um. Yeah. Sure it does, if you make a doctor's wage. When you live paycheck to paycheck on a retail job, the money stuff surely does not "work itself out."
But alas and alack, it's all well and good. We shall survive. We see a different doctor next appointment, and Robb will come with me for the next one as a physical presence to keep me from getting all gooshy and crying like I did this last time (anger=tears, when +hormones, it all goes awful)...and then I hope that it will all "work itself out."
Meantime, I've been sleeping a lot again, which seriously affects my knitting. I needed something even less complicated than the Peter Pan lace front cardi to distract me, and when I went to the LYS to get some cashsoft to make teeny weeny hats for my step-sister's twins, likely to appear at any moment, I was...well.
Let me 'splain. I don't knit rectangles. I hate rectangles. Blankets, afghans...they're boring. I love the AbFab kit because the yarn changes so often it keeps me entertained (I'm simple in the brain, I tell you), but regular rectangle things...I hate them. The only thing I dislike more is chevrons. I once saw an entire book of chevron afghans in various colors and patterns and iterations, and it almost made me...well. I just don't like chevrons, okay?
So how the hell did this end up on my needles?
I mean, really.
The yarn is impractical, the colorwork should please the simple mindedest among us...why am I knitting this? We're not even going to DISCUSS the cost of the yarn for this (thank god for the Berocco sale, that's all I'm sayin'), or the fact that technically this blankie should be DRY CLEANED.
I saw it, and I had to have it.
Simple minded. Only excuse I can think of.
And by the way, Alison? Just because I'm breaking my own rules and knitting myself a baby blanket does not in any way mean that you are off the hook. :P
Last but not least, I wanted to say thanks for your prayers...my aunt's platelet count is slowly rising. Up to 4 from 2 (normal is 15-40). It's obviously far too soon to say whether this slow improvement will continue, but for now, it's a step in the right direction. Maybe she will get to hold my little Lucy Joy Diana after all. Or my Charles Sebastian. Whichever way it goes (although the needle on a thread trick invariable says girl) I'll be thrilled.
Two months until there's a tiny new little person in my life. I can't wait!
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