You look like a monkey...

but you smell like a sweet little baby girl.

Today, a little more than a year and an hour ago, a star shone in the east -- well, no, not quite, a snowstorm rose up in the middle of the night, which meant that my stubborn daughter decided it was the perfect time to make a slightly more dramatic than strictly necessary entrance into the world. This has become the modus operandi of one little Miss Lucy Joy.

Someone said to me last weekend, as we celebrated Lucy's birthday, that we had named our girl perfectly. Lucy means "bringer of light," and that is absolutely what she does.

My response? "She's pretty cute. I think we'll keep her."
Which is my trademark New Englander way of saying "My entire life has been reshaped around this tiny bundle of high powered energy, and I'm not sure what I would do if she were not here with me."

I can't believe the pictures I see of the day she was born, where she fit under my chin, and her feet were barely at the bottom of my breasts. Where she looked dwarfed by my (suddenly monstrously large) breasts as she smacked me around to get what she wanted.

I've been very clear with a lot of people over the past year; motherhood is not this golden fog of wonderfulness. Those daydreams you have of curling up with the baby for a gentle snooze completely skip the part where you haven't showered in days, your house is a mess, and you're so exhausted that even when you have the chance, you can't sleep. The part where the baby hates your favorite song; even hearing Glowworm tinkle out "Rockabye Baby" reduces her to hysterical tears. It sounds sweet to hear stories about moms singing themselves hoarse because it's the only way to stop the baby screaming -- until it's you.

There's so much about my girl that is completely inscrutable. I've survived phases and spells and situations which have a cause I can only guess at. There were the two weeks where baths caused screaming so loud I stopped hearing sound and started hearing vibration. The past two weeks, where going to sleep is JUST NOT ALLOWED. The sudden desire to bite my left nipple -- but only the left one.
The complete and total love of music, and dancing, and mama's good cooking (smart move there, kiddo). The way she goes completely still and silent to listen to "Lucy's song," aka that Bach lullaby that's on every kid's mobile ever made. The way she slowly got back to trusting that she was safe in the bath, even though it meant that I once climbed in mostly clothed, because I couldn't conceive of making her wait and cry while I got undressed. Every time I think that I can't survive another second, she snuggles into me, or gives me this sweet, desperate look that says that I am her world, and she trusts me, and she knows I can help.

And yet, there's this way she has. She's growing up already, and I'm so proud of her. She crawls away from me all the time, goes around a corner, and then panics because she can't see me. Puts herself to sleep, then wakes up in a tizzy because we're gone. Falls asleep as soon as we walk back into her room.

She's precious. I adore her.
I think we'll keep her.

Is it Friday yet?

Thank goodness.

Work is always nuts at the beginning of the month, and then it gets crazier after a holiday. I should have known that Monday and Tuesday were going to be oy-yoy-yoy. And they were.

I want to say a quick thanks to all the Canadians who've been so carefully explaining all the ins and outs of what's going on with the parliament; our local papers here are reporting everything in a very sensational style (shocking, I know), and I've enjoyed calming down my co-workers.

Finished the Cardigan for Merry, and I will try to set up a photo shoot this weekend, although the sweater came out much closer to 18 mo size than 12, so it's a bit too big for Lucy to be happy about; I may pack it up and call it a Christmas present. It's not like she'll know the difference, so we'll see. Cast on a sweater out of the blue Cashsoft DK that I have, and I'm loving how it's going...I'm thinking of using it as a canvas to learn needle felting or embroidery. We'll see how I feel by the time it's done.

I want to work on my grey aran sweater that I started to replace the sweater that Lucy hates because it's scratchy, but I keep getting distracted by knitting for other people (shocking, I know).

I have nothing else to report. :) There might be pictures on this blog again, someday. Until then...

November: Survived!

Next up, December.

See, it's good for me; the writing this is finally starting to happen again after a five year dry spell (there were lot of reasons there, and we don't talk about them in polite company anymore to protect the innocent, okay, so just trust me that it was HELL and BAD and all things TERRIBLE), and I'm fascinated by the words I'm churning out on a daily basis. I wrote 33K words last month, which is more than I've written in the last THREE YEARS put together. I was talking to my friend J today about the story I'm working on, and how all the modern vampire stories have missed the point, because they are equating being consumed with being loved, and it's not the same, and maybe that's part of what this story is about, and I just love it, darlings, I LOVE it.

I've been knitting, too, almost done the Cardigan for Merry, which was annypurls adaptation of the Cardigan for Arwen from IK a few years back for her little boy; Lucy's version is pink (I know, I think I'm coming down with something), but as I've said a zillion times before, I have time to knit and write or take pictures of my knitting and blog about them, so the first is winning, especially since I've got an almost-12 month old to chase around all the darn time. She's cruising like crazy, and resisting all efforts by the grandparents to "teach" her to walk; try to stand her up, and she will sit down on her butt, hide her hands, and give you the most petulant look; she'll do it in her own time, thank you very much.

I swear, her first sentence will be "Mama, I do it."

Have I mentioned lately that I'm totally in love with this baby girl?

Someone asked me the other day how I felt about motherhood. When I got done laughing, I asked him if he wanted the truth, or the PC version. He asked for the truth. So here it goes.

I hate it. I hate not getting enough sleep, having no time to myself. I hate planning for three people when I just want a cup of coffee. I hate having to get up earlier so I can get me AND someone else ready before I go for work. I hate not being able to eat brownies for dinner because someone else needs a nutritious dinner. I hate being relied on, depended on, and knowing that my saying the word "no," can break someone's world, not because she wants to do whatever it is so badly, but because she is stressed that I look upset with her. I hate that because I let myself be convinced to "sneak out" yesterday, rather than saying good-bye when I knew it would upset her, and then got punished all night long because she was so afraid that I would disappear again.

I hate it, and yet I wouldn't trade it for anything; not all the knitting time in the universe, or all the sea silk in the Handmaiden Vaults.

Just now, I could hear her whimpering a bit in her room; I didn't even have to get all the way into the room before she started to settle down. As soon as she heard my voice, I saw her shoulders relax, heard the tension ease out of her tiny voice.

Being a mom; it's a pain in the ass, but it's as good as it fucking gets. Pardon the profanity, but -- it's just the way it is. :)

November? I'm watching you.

In general, November likes to leave me in a corner, weeping gently. Being a child of divorced parents is particularly painful and frustrating at the holidays, and throwing biological AND adoptive families into the stew is more than enough -- add in a grandbaby, and it's just a headache. One big fat headache. Two years ago, I declared that November was fired. Clearly, the administration did not take my extreme frustration into account. This year, however, not shaping up to be much better.

I'm working on Nanowrimo, and have written 27k words, which is more than I've written in the past three years. While this is tremendously healing, it's also exhausting, and is bringing up a fair amount of emotional stuff that I thought was dealt with. I don't have time to knit, although I did get to hang out with the lovely Alison Hyde at Kaleidoscope last Friday; that was awesome.

I finished the ladybug sweater, I have pictures...one of these days, I'll have four minutes to post them (and deal with the BS necessary to post them on Blogger, sigh).

Until then...still not dead...

It is a blow to one's ego

and one's status as the hippie-crunchie-granola-mom in the family when, despite months of feeding my daughter the best organic, local, healthy foods that I can find, it is becoming painfully clear that, if she could, she would exist on Kraft Macaroni & Cheese and ice cream. Someone please tell me that all children go through this phase? It doesn't help that she's impossibly cute as she begs for scraps. I mean, begs for food. I mean...

I'll tell you more about knitting when I'm not in insane WRITE 50000 WORDS BY 11/30 mode.

I aten't dead

The past few weeks, man. Oy.

She's crawling. EVERYWHERE. Her new favorite game is "What does it sound like when this hits the floor? And what does this taste like? And what does it sound like when it hits the floor? And what does this taste like? And...ow I hit my head MAMAMAMA!!! No, don't hold me, I want to run around! No, don't put me down, I want to be cuddled. No, I want to be held and cuddled AND run around! I HATE BEING A BABY!!!"

I swear, I see it all in her eyes. Especially when we're around her older cousins, all five of whom are walking now. She watches them with this eager, anticipatory look, then chases after them on her hands and knees. Well, this weird feet-and-hands crawl that she's adapted from somewhere, causing the numerous head bonks as her butt is waaaaay up in the air and her face is looking down instead of ahead.

Meanwhile, I have zero time. Seriously, I'm very glad that this is my virtual living room, because my real living room looks like Hurricane Lucy hit it. Oh, wait, it did. Go figure. The center of the living room is covered with sewing stuff, from when I sewed Lucy's Halloween costume (pictures as soon as I download them) and the new blouse for my ren-faire gear (promptly smeared the white sleeve with grease, somehow, thanks VERY much). The coffee table is invisible beneath assorted knitting supplies and my macbook. The kitchen...well, after some work yesterday, the kitchen is relatively clean, because that's where clutter has a chance of turning into bugs and infestation. We don't want that.

Successes, because they're worth mentioning: cooked all weekend; made shepherd's pie and chili. I like cooking in winter much more than in summer. In summer, I could survive on crackers and hot pepper jelly.

The knitting deadlines are starting to pile up; I think Melissa's bridesmaid-shawl is going to have to be put off until after Christmas, because I want to knit a box of food for the kids to have at Grammy & Poppy's house for their play-kitchen. I thought I might sew some big squares of brightly colored silks for their play room too. And some for Lucy as well. A recent scare in regards to her lead levels (they're not properly elevated, just on the borderline; my gut instinct as I've been investigating is that it's an old exposure, and is now resolving itself, but it's still stressful) has me wanting to clean out the whole world, ya know?

I am sitting directly under a florescent light, which is bad for my world. I need to get one of those gooseneck lamps we all had in college and equip it with a full spectrum bulb.

And I'm very, very tired.

But other than that, life is still good here. Expect a picture heavy post sometime this week. :)

Chatty Cathy

That's me, blethering up a storm. Or not. Shoosh. Look that way.

I'm sorry, I started watching Lost, and it is eating my brain...I called a good friend on Monday afternoon, and said "If I go home with Lucy, I'm going to watch another four hours of Lost. It's not that I don't want to watch another four hours of Lost, but I don't think I should."

In exciting news, though, my wedding shawl has started it's tenth and final full repeat. (I'm making this shawl (ravelry link), only with beads in place of the nups) After this last repeat, I still have another half repeat, and then it's knit edging on almost 400 stitches, ugh. And a quick game of "do I have enough beads to add some to the edging?" And then I will be done with two of the three wedding shawls I need to knit.

The DIY aspect of this wedding is starting to ramp up...I'm going to make my cake topper, favors, the bridesmaids' gifts (hence all the shawl knitting)... probably a shrug for Lucy, probably out of left-over zephyr... I want to put together a wedding scrapbook instead of a signature book, so that people get a scrapbook page and they can write things, paste in things, so forth...I think that will be much more awesome than just a list of the people in attendance that I'll never look at...I have to find cake-cutting utensils...win my argument to get married barefoot (why pay for shoes when I'll be trying to sneak out of them asap anyway? I already made mom pay for a tiara...)...

My brain is scattered. :)

Sounds like a good time to rewrite a pattern to fit the gauge I'm getting, don't you think?

October, take two!

Well.

The beginning of this month was kind of a wash.

I don't know if this wretched stomach flu is hitting other areas as hard as it is ours, but with Robb, Lucy, and I, all laid low in rapid succession last week...October needs a do-over.

Just before my near-death-experience, I bought a set of blocking wires -- I actually found that the ones that my LYS sells were cheaper than going to the hardware store and getting good enough wire that it wouldn't rust and discolor the yarn. But then I was too sick to experiment. Sad!

Also, no writing all week. Although I did sit down and churn out 500 words this morning. Hooray!

Other than that...not much to report. Life is good. :)

I got tagged!!!

So, first of all, it was the lovely Karin who did the honors.

The game works like this:

1) Link to the person who tagged you

2) Mention the rules

3) Tell six quirky yet boring, unspectacular details about yourself

4) Tag six other bloggers by linking to them

5) Go to each person’s blog and leave a comment that lets them know they’ve been tagged

Random details about me:

1.) I am a high-fiver. I am an avid high fiver. I taught my daughter how to "give five," and her daddy LOVES to get her give him high five. Lucy will also be a high fiver, I can tell, because when you tell her to "give you five," she breaks into this awesome, huge, gigantic grin. It's on video here. I have used the phrase "Don't leave me hangin'," and I have not been ashamed.

2.) I really like finishing work when knitting, but I put it off as long as humanly possible. I have a PILE of things that will be perfect...when they're finished. I have a sweater that has just needed a tiny bit of sewing for SIX YEARS...and I haven't brought myself to finish it yet.

3.) I hate math. I use Robb as my human calculator. As such, he knows random knitting terms like "gauge" and "stitch count."

4.) I really HATE it when people say to me, "Don't you love being a mother?" It's an inane question that I hate answering. What am I going to say, "I hate it?" Stupid. I hate stupid questions.

5.) I hardly ever get tagged for memes, and was so unreasonably excited when I got the note from Karin that she'd tagged me that I might have jumped up and down a bit in my chair.

So, who would like to do this next? I nominate...

um, I'm all shy all of a sudden. I nominate YOU if you want to do this. :)

Despite...

Despite Mercury retrograde...
despite the collapse of the financial markets...
despite the sense of impending doom coming from every corner...
despite the stronger and stronger pushes from various places and worlds begging me to cast free of these anchors and set sail on a sea of uncertainty...
despite a suddenly obvious flare for the dramatic...

I'm having a really good week.

Someone needed to say it, and with all the doom and gloom everywhere on the horizon, I thought I might be the only one.

So, go me!

Confessions

I haven't knitted a stitch this week. Not-a-one. My new Macbook and iPod were retrieved from very friendly UPS staff on Monday, and since then? None at all. I've been playing Spore and updated files and -- most excitingly -- writing.

That's write. Right. Hehe. :) Writing stories. From my braiiiiin. Onto (digital) paper. Stories that could possibly be sold to the highest bidder, traded for food on our table and electricity in our house, and so forth. Can you imagine it? To me, it's almost the highest form of shenanigans -- the highest being acting in all its forms. All the arts, really, though -- "You mean, if I do this thing that keeps me from just losing my mind and going COMPLETELY insane, you're going to pay me for it?"(laugh)"REALLY?"

I'm all blissed out on word fumes.

Has it really been that long?

I'm so sorry! I had no idea I'd skipped out on you guys for such a long time! The outreach lists were huge, the call volumes were ridiculous, the baby was growing...the knitting didn't happen very much anyway. I've gotten 5 pattern repeats done on my wedding shawl. There, you're up to date.

The exciting thing right now is that I'm typing this on my very own brand new Macbook. Ooooo. I know; I know. I'm crazy excited, too. It's beautiful, and it feels like something that should be in a science fiction movie, but it's mine, and I can type on the couch. I'm hoping that writing will start getting in the way of my knitting time, you know?

Here's wishing.

Love to you all, talk to you soon.

Sleeping is for birds.

All last week, I got between 3 and 5 hours of sleep a night, for no real reason except I couldn't be bothered going to bed.

Last night, I actually got some sleep. Today, I can't get out of my own way.

Sheep & Wool festival this weekend; lovely day, lovely pretties, and very impressed with myself for staying inside of the budget Robb and I agreed on. Even more exciting, I found a spot in the living room where my spinning wheel can live and not be in the way, since there's a direct correlation between how much of my spinning wheel I can see, and how often I spin.

I'm impressed with both myself, and the high speed kit for the Kiwi; I'm spinning soft, fine singles, that should make fantastic two ply yarn, maybe DK weight. Pictures when the sun cooperates/I remember.

B, your shawl is done, I just need to block it. Which means I need blocking wires. Which are temporarily out of my price range. (i.e. I spent the money I meant to spend on blocking wires on alpaca fiber. Sorry. :( ) You will love it.

Sleepy. Nothing else to report.

Thank God I was pregnant last year

because I'm actually following the election this year, and there's no way little Lucy would have survived my blood pressure fluctuations.

I hate politics. I hate politicians. I hate the way modern politics has gone, where the bulk of the population doesn't bother to vote, and a good bunch of the people who do vote vote for the guy they "trust," or who had the flashier ads on TV. People don't watch or listen to the debates, people don't learn about the issues, and they so often vote based on just one issue -- and it makes me nuts.

I'm trying to stay balanced, even if my vote was decided last year. Last week, I listened to the DNC, I was inspired. This week, I'm trying -- I'm really trying -- to listen to the RNC (that's Republican National Convention, for Shannon :) ), and my blood pressure...let's just say that I had to put down the lace.

Put aside your positions on the issues for just a second. When I listened to the DNC, I heard "John McCain is going to do this...Barack Obama is going to do this. John Mccain will do X...Barack Obama will do y." There were positions discussed, practical explanations of how things were going to happen.

When I listen to Rudy Guliani talk, all I'm hearing is "How dare that Barack guy go to an Ivy League school? And how come he talks so good? And how can he think he can run anything, when he's not experienced? Yeah? Huh? And we're going to put nuclear power plants on every corner, and don't you ask about how long it's going to take to get them built, or where we'll get the uranium to run the plants, or what we're going to do with it when it's done!"

I'm dealing with this to listen to Sarah Palin, because I am nervous about her, and I want to hear what she has to say.

I note that NPR didn't tell me what Sarah Palin was wearing tonight, something they felt it necessary to tell me about when Hillary stood up for Barack Obama.

Erg. Just erg.

Shan, seriously, if John Mccain wins this election, I'm moving my family next door to you.

Sorry for the random political intrusion into this normally calm knitting/motherhood/general work blog. I'm just...frustrated.

S.L.O.W. D.O.W.N.

Yesterday, I looked up after what felt like 15 minutes at work, and it was lunch time.

Today, I swear I've been here for half of my life time, and it's not even time for my first break.

I broke out my book, but I'm way too lazy to read right now.

Ugh.

Lots of knitting done this week, though few photo ops. I've been listening to the DNC and all the speechifying, which is a great combination with a lace shawl that has reached the unendingly boring part.

I have nothing exciting to report, just didn't want anyone to think I'd fallen off a cliff.

Hugs and love and suchlike all around.

One with pictures!!!

I know, can you believe it?

It's been a busy couple of weeks here, with a sick baby followed by a sick Mama and Dada, followed by a disgusting infected toe (mine) that I didn't even injure doing anything cool like, I don't know, rockgliding? Nope, ingrown toenail. Don't worry, I didn't take a picture of it.

But because of the gross toe, I had to get antibiotics, which has affected the taste of my milk, which has caused -- well, not a nursing strike, but a grouchy kid, let me say that much. She's not nursing much at all, and the only thing that's sustaining me is the certain knowledge that healthy babies don't starve themselves. She's not dehydrated, and she is nursing some...she's just pissy.

I think I'm going to have to start drinking that disgusting tea again.

She's crawling like a demon now. Army crawling, with occasional moments of cross-crawling...for a step or two, before she crashes onto her chin and screams. Currently, she has made her way into the kitchen, and discovered that the cat's food bowl makes a very interesting sound when you smack it on the linoleum. And, it pushes nicely on the carpet. My kid? Too clever.

But don't worry, I know what you're really here for.

Some of these are still "some assembly required," and they're all too big, so these are just knitting shots; I'll provide some modeling as soon as it's reasonable.



The Dale Ladybug Sweater, finally done except for some adorable Ladybug buttons that need to be sewn onto the shoulder.



The Berrocco Pure Merino Nuance sweater.



The Berrocco Love It! Colors sweater.



The Waves in Square Shawl (Sivia Harding) is knit, and just needs blocking.



And then, finally, the green, beaded hat.

I know, I can't believe I did it either. And B, I poked all the beads over to the right side. Just for you. :)

By the way, I took a ton of pictures of Lucy in that hat; you can see the rest of them here.

Enjoy!

Thank you

to everyone who asked if Lucy was feeling better. She is; now Robb and I are sick. Ugh.

More soon.

I'd forgotten what spit up tastes like.

Today, however, I got a plentiful reminder. Ugh. Little Bug has her first cold (what a wonderful first, right), and she is miserable beyond belief. I can't figure out what I hate more, the all-out crying, screaming, oh-my-god-why shrieks of pain, anger, and frustration, or the quiet, soft moments, when she cuddles into me and then looks up with these eyes that say "Mama, why can't you fix it?"

Finally got her to sleep around 9pm -- which is great -- and I celebrated by finishing the last sleeve on the Ladybug sweater -- you've been around a long time if you remember that one! -- and steeking the armholes before I lost my courage. I did f up one little corner, but not so badly I couldn't fix it. Go me.

Pictures. Eventually.

Meantime, taking on more responsibilities at work means that I will be better compensated on my quarterly bonus, but significantly cuts into my internet time.

There will be balance again. Eventually.

Cute hats, cute pictures, cute babies...

...but no time to upload.

Lucy's little green Tili Thomas hat is finito. I tried to get a pic for you, but Lucy is currently of the opinion that the only thing worth having is something worth eating, so no dice yet. I'll keep working on it.

The top of the little hat got interesting. If you remember the original (and I totally tripped out trying to find this picture, because I absolutely DO NOT BELIEVE that Lucy was ever that small), you might remember the cutesy little thingies on the top of the hat. Little loopy guys.

I originally bought the pattern (it's a Tili Thomas pattern) for the little loopy guys. I know how to knit a hat, after all. It's simple. Measure baby head. Measure gauge. Multiply. Knit. Even I can do that. But the little loopy guys. I wanted my loopy guys to be like the shop-hat's loopy guys. So I bought the pattern.

Come to knit Beaded Hat #2, Electric Boogaloo version...and find out that I've "misplaced" or "lost" or "sent into a time/space warp" the pattern.

And I thought about buying another copy of the pattern, for the loopy guys.

I winged it. Wung it. Whatever.

I'll provide photographic evidence tomorrow, if I can get the kid to keep her hat on long enough.

The crying jags have eased off; the top tooth is nearly through, and the generous administration of Hyland's Teething Tablets has restored this family's sleep. In general, I'm not a fan of medicating kids -- I hate hearing about how my 3 month old nephew was on prilosec, my cousin was on ADD meds, this one's on this, that one's on that...there simply isn't enough research done on these medicines in adult bodies before they're used, it REALLY isn't appropriate to use them in kids if you don't have to...

But they let her sleep. And it doesn't seem like an unnatural sleep, the kind of passed-out kid I get when I've rarely given her tylenol (mostly after she gets shots). It just seems to ease her out, relax her a bit, so she can go to sleep herself.

I really do love that kid like crazy, you know?

And so here's the big debate of today. I really really want to knit stoles for both of my bridesmaids. I started with scarves, because the wedding was going to be in May (don't ask me why that makes sense, because I don't know). Now that it's going to be March, I really want to knit Swan Lake for B and Hanami for Melissa.

Am I a total nutter, wanting to knit two lace stoles in the next eight months?

Poor Little Bug.

Miss Lucy has been having the most awful week; she's not napping well with Grandma Donna, so it's hard to put her down in the evening, since she's so overtired (massages and baths help, but it's still a half hour process, more when you figure that I nearly always fall asleep for a little while with her). But the last week or so, most night (say, 5 out of 7?) she wakes up at 11pm, practically on the dot, and fusses and cries and generally throws herself about with distress. I'm pretty sure she's getting her top two teeth in, based on her absolute and determined refusal to let anything into her mouth that isn't controlled by her -- and no, I have no further scientific method, why do you ask? -- but last night. Oy, last night.

She went down a little earlier and a little easier, and I only slept 20 minutes or so before stumbling out to the living room to try and be an adult for an hour or two before bedtime. And then at 10pm, or just after, there was full throated screaming coming from the bedroom. There was no warm up, no "Hey, Mama, I'm getting pissy!" engine reving, just a complete and total FREAKOUT.

I pretty much bolted into the bedroom, convinced that she had somehow crawled out of the bed and broken something, but no, she was still exactly where I'd left her, and her eyes were even still closed. But she was screaming, and she was quivering with tension, poor thing. Normally I can stroke her and cuddle her back to sleep, but last night I had to pick her up and rock her for quite a while, and then nurse her back to sleep.

I've got no idea what's going on. All the parents I talk to assure me that this is all normal, kids go through this, it's probably just that she's teething, and so forth. All of that makes sense to me, but it doesn't stop my worry that maybe something's wrong, you know?

In knitting news, I'm almost done the second gumdrop sock (well, almost is strong, I just turned the heel on the second sock, how's that?) and for a quick knit to soothe my nerves, I'm knitting a new hat for Lu for this winter, out of the same Tili Thomas beaded yarn I used last year. What, I loved the hat.

But because I'm growing as a person, can you guess what color it is?

That's right.

Green.