i did it!

Thirty posts in thirty days. Not bad for a beginner! Yay, NaBloPoMo!

In the knitting department, I have some FOs to report. My three Wine Cozies are pretty much done. (Finally.)

(They're three different colors, cream, red and cranberry. Not that you can tell that from the pictures. Sorry.)

I'm going to duplicate stitch the recipients' initials on the front, but I don't want to post pictures of that in case they read my blog. In other knitting-related news, Jen and I went dye-happy again today.

That's eight skeins of wool drying in my kitchen. I hope to knit them up into two Hemlock Rings, which I'm giving as Christmas gifts. Earlier today I was rechecking my list of holiday gifts left to knit, and I realized it might all actually be doable this year. Really, other than the two Hemlock Rings (which admittedly are pretty substantial), I've only got a few minor projects. Not that I should say anything, lest I anger the knitting goddess, but I think I'm doing all right this year. Of course, there are still 25 days left 'til Christmas. This means there's plenty of time to knit, yes... but there's also plenty of time for things to go wrong. Only time will tell I guess; I'll keep you posted!

my first dye job

I have officially taken my knitting obsession to a whole new level. Tonight, after Magic Baby was asleep, I headed over to Jen's house for a yarn dyeing party! (Yeah, we're cool like that.) Here's how it went.
We started with Knit Picks Bare - Peruvian Highland Wool yarn.




Which we placed in a large pot of boiling water, vinegar and Jacquard Acid Dye.

After half an hour or so, we drained and spun the yarn.

Then we wrung it out and hung it to dry, and viola! What once was undyed yarn is now black. How cool is that?

We dyed some yarn orange, too, but we didn't take any pictures except this one:

Yeah, Jen might want to wear gloves next time... and you know there will be a next time, because as I said, we're cool like that.

you can't be serious

So without getting too into my love life, let's just say that when I met my now husband, I was dating his best friend. Yeah, I know that sounds uber-trashy, but it really wasn't, I swear. My ex dumped me way before Hubby and I ever got together, and besides he turned out to be kind of a loser. (My ex-boyfriend, not my husband.) Anyway, to compound that weirdness- my husband's father used to date my ex-boyfriend's mother. (God, we sound really freaky and, like, inbred when I think about it.) This means that both my ex and his mom came to my father-in-law's wake last year. (So, yeah, seeing them there was awkward.) And then today, Hubby gets an email from... my ex. Apparently he just wanted to say "Hi." Am I the only one who finds this odd? I mean, they stopped being friends before Hubby and I even started dating, so they haven't really spoken in seven or eight years, and now my ex emails to say "How's it going?" I don't know. I'm kind of weirded out by this. It's not like I should care if they talk or hang out or whatever; I put up with my husband's ex (Big Sister's mom) on a regular basis, so this should be no big deal. If anything, my husband should be freaked out about spending time with my ex, right? And yet, it doesn't seem to phase him. I suppose I should be grateful that they're both acting all mature and stuff. I mean, I know we're adults here, but honestly, I don't really want to see him. (Again, I'm talking about my ex, not Hubby.) Especially in a hanging out-type of situation. Obviously, if I wanted to hang out with him, I would have made more of an effort to keep dating him. Or I'd have tried to do the whole "staying friends" thing. Or at the very least, I'd have stalked him. And I know I should just tell Hubby that I don't want them being friends, but that seems so high school to me. "You can't be his friend because he dumped me and now I don't want to be his friend and I don't want you to be his friend either. And also, Sally says to tell you that she heard Tommy say that Laura thinks you're cute." Plus, I've always told him that I didn't want to stand in the way of their friendship. (At the time, I thought this was very mature of me; I never actually thought he'd take me up on it.) And Hubby's the kind of guy that if I told him all this, he'd never talk to my ex again. But then I know I'd feel guilty, like, forever. I'm big on holding onto guilt.
So, basically, I'm not sure what to do. It would have been so much easier if he'd never emailed. I guess I'll just wait and see what happens down the line. Let me tell you, though, if Hubby ever has a shindig and invites both my ex and his, there's no way I'm going. I'll just lock myself in my room in my frilly party dress, throw myself on the bed and scream "I'm not coming out and YOU CAN'T MAKE ME." How's that for mature?

that kind of day

This is what my house looks like.This is what my refrigerator looks like.

This is what I look like.

At least the knitting is coming along nicely.

(Ha! You'll have to wait until tomorrow for pictures of that!)

Unfortunately, while the other photos were found on the internet, the one of my house is actually a picture of my house. Nice one, Magic Baby.

wine bottle cozies

I've been following Knitty's Wine Bottle Cozy pattern diligently for what seems like six years now, and I still haven't finished. True, I'm knitting three of them at once (I know if I did them one at a time I'd never be able to bring myself to cast on the second, let alone the third), but they really seem to be taking an inordinate amount of time. We're talking hours and hours of stockinette. Yeah. I think what makes this even worse is that I thought I was done two days ago. The pattern says to do a 3X3 rib for 3 inches then (and I've cut and pasted this part) "Work in St st until work measures 8 inches" so I did. I then did the funky (read: pain in the arse) ridge row and all the decreases. Three times, because I'm knitting three cozies, remember? Then I looked at it. Really looked at it. And thought, "There is no way in hell this is going to fit a freakin' wine bottle." At this point (something like 2 a.m., because I was so close to finishing I couldn't sleep) I realized there is an error in the pattern. It should read "Work in St st for 8 inches." Because 8 inches total is way too small for a wine bottle, but 8 inches plus the three inches of ribbing? Perfect. Anyway, I had to frog all that hard work- all the way back to before the stupid ridge, and since then I have been wearing my little fingers out on stockinette. See?

At this point, I think I'm nearly done (hopefully for real this time), and I'm determined to finish the 8 inches before I go to sleep. No ridge row tonight, though. This pattern has already proven that I do idiotic things when I knit tired. I mean, really, I totally should have realized that 8 inches was ridiculously small for a wine bottle. It's all this Christmas knitting. It messes with my head.

from me to you

I stopped by my parents' house the other day, and my mom was helping my grandmother balance her checkbook. They had her bank statements out, and printouts from the computer, plus the actual checkbook, and they were poring over all this stuff for quite a while. "People still do that?" I asked. "Every week." my mom replied, "and I'm always to the penny." This made me stop and think. My first thought was "Why? Why in god's name would you do that? Every. Week." Then it hit me; clearly they know no better way. So, I have decided, as a public service, to offer my way of balancing a checkbook here. For you. I call this:

How to balance a checkbook
Step 1. Go through the large pile of mail on your bureau or table or stairs, or wherever it happens to accumulate in your house, and find this month's bank statement.
Step 1a. Okay, if you can't find this month's statement, any one from this year will do. It absolutely has to be from this year, though. I mean, come on, people. Are you serious about this or not?
Step 2. Find your checkbook. *This is perhaps the most important step, and I realize you (like me) probably have no idea where your checkbook actually is. Oh sure, you know where it's supposed to be, but we all know it's never actually there, so I'll pause now and give you some time to find it.



la, la, la... just waiting here... nothing better to do...




Okay, found it? Good. Then we're ready to proceed.
Step 3. Open the bank statement, being careful to avoid paper cuts. They hurt.
Step 4. Look through the statement line by line. Fondly reminisce about the purchases you made. You may find yourself making comments like "Oh, I remember when I found that yarn store. They sure had some nice sock yarn." or "Mmmm... that restaurant was good. We should go there again." This is a natural reaction, and is in fact a good thing. In a way, it's like you are making these purchases all over again. This can be very therapeutic (and even better, it's free this time).
Step 5. Make note of any purchases you don't remember making. Once you've noted all the stores you don't remember visiting and/or things you don't remember buying, forget the rest of the statement. We're just concerned with these MFPs (Mysteriously Forgotten Purchases).
Step 6a. If the MFP is for a small amount (say, less that $20), ignore it. The odds of someone stealing your identity for a measly 20 bucks is minimal, and really is it worth your time to wrack your brains and hunt down the receipt for a lousy $20? Your time is more valuable than that.
Step 6b. If the MFP is for more than $20, one of three things may have happened. First, your identity may have been stolen, although if your statement has fewer than fifty MFPs, this is probably not the case. Second, your significant other may have made the purchase in question and neglected to record it. Third, you may have made the purchase in question and completely forgotten about it. This is where balancing the account becomes more difficult, and possibly dangerous. On the one hand, you might feel the need to confront your SO, demanding that he/she tell you where the hell he/she spent $184.63 and why exactly he/she didn't mention it sooner. DO NOT FALL FOR THIS. I REPEAT: DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES QUESTION YOUR SO ABOUT MFPS. Doing so will only cause problems, because really, who's more likely the one who spent all that money and completely forgot about it? You. And who's going to look like an idiot when, after a long and tedious argument, you realize the MFP was yours? You. No, don't question anyone about the discrepancy. It's better to just forget the whole thing. Which brings me to
Step 7. Shred/file/recycle the bank statement. It has served its purpose.
Step 8. Put the checkbook back where you found it... or just kind of toss it somewhere. It's not like you'll ever be able to find it again anyway.
Step 9. Add "Stop at ATM and get bank balance" to your to-do list.
Step 10. Grab a cup of coffee, pick up you knitting needles and get to work on that sweater you're making. You know the one. You bought stuff for it a few weeks ago? Remember, the really nice cashmere you got on sale? Yeah, at the store where you picked up the handspun stuff, too. And the bamboo needles (for the sweater, of course). And you said you wouldn't tell the husband, 'cause you spent almost $200? Remember that now?

See, I told you it wasn't worth the argument.

craft fair report... sort of

Okay, I promised Jen she could tell the blogosphere all about the craft fair, and really I see no point in making you read the same account twice, so there's not much for me to post. I will tell you two things, however.


1. We kinneared this woman:

(May I also say she had matching fun fur boots. Does this give you any indication of the crowd? And, perhaps by extension, how we did?)

2. At the end of the show, there was leftover merchandise, which I raided.

Here I'd like to point out that had we actually sold the stuff I ended up swiping (the hat and wristicuff shown above, as well as a hank of hand-dyed superwash wool that mysteriously ended up in my knitting bag), we would have doubled our profits. Still, the craft fair gave us six hours of (virtually) uninterrupted knitting (in my case; knitting/spinning in Jen's case) time, and this close to Christmas, that is priceless.

uncertainties

Magic Baby will be 2 in February. This means I've started to get the "When's the next one?" questions. (Actually, I started getting those a little while ago, but at the time I was still nursing the baby. Looking for a way to get those annoying people to bugger off? Tell them your doctor said you should wait until you've stopped lactating. That'll have them changing the subject. After an awkward pause, of course.) Hubby and I have been discussing it (without getting into detail, we've even taken the necessary steps with the doctor) and theoretically it's possible I could get pregnant any day now. The thing is, I'm not sure. With Magic Baby I knew 100% that I wanted a baby right then, even though the timing wasn't perfect. (I had just gotten accepted into a one-year Master's program in Education of the Deaf at a school two hours away. I was actually living there over the summer, taking my first semester of classes when I found out I was pregnant.) I wanted to be a mom. I wanted the cute baby smell and the soft baby skin. I wanted the tiny baby clothes and I wanted to have a "nursery." That's not to say I was naive. I started babysitting when I was 10. I have a million younger cousins and I spent most of my free time in high school watching at least one of them. Plus, I had helped Hubby with Big Sister all along. So it's not like I didn't know about the other side of kids. I knew about the poop. And how they never seem to want to go to sleep, no matter how tired and cranky they are. I knew about temper tantrums and spit up. I had gone through it all, and I was ready.
So, back to when I found out I was pregnant. I was thrilled! I took a hiatus from college, finished student teaching for my first Master's and started the stay-at-home mom gig. Obviously, it hasn't always been easy. My son is very much a boy. A rambunctious boy who is ALWAYS INTO EVERYTHING, and he certainly keeps me busy, but I honestly enjoy him, and everything about being a mom. (Well, almost everything. The saggy boobs I could do without, but I believe I may have mentioned that before.) The thing is, now that I have Magic Baby and Big Sister, I'm not sure about having more. I have always pictured myself surrounded by, like twelve kids, and some days I think this would be perfect. Other times I'm not sure I want things to change from the way they are now. And here's the crazy thing: It's not for any of the usual, normal reasons. It's not because kids are a ton of work, or because I'm so tired sometimes at the end of the day I can't even think, never mind knit. Or blog. It's because I really like having one-on-one time with Magic Baby and I know that time would decrease once I had another child. I also know I wouldn't be able to have as much alone time with the actual baby, either. I realize this is what happens with second children and that it happens every day. Still, I know I'd miss the special time Magic Baby and I have now, and I'm sure I'd want it just as much with the new baby. Also, I feel like I've just gotten to a point where Magic Baby is, well, fun. He sort of gets some of my jokes. He can do some things on his own. He's interested in things other than food. He actually has a personality, and I'm not too sure I'm ready to start over with another one.
Then, of course, I remember the good parts about babies. The (good) smell and the softness and the cuddles and the way they're totally dependant on you. And then I want another one. Now. Plus, Magic Baby is getting bigger and while he's uber-affectionate now, I don't think that will last much longer. I can tell he's going to be too interested in exploring the world to want to cling to his Mommy, and that's fine. That's great even; I want him to be independent. I just also want someone to snuggle with and care for. So maybe a baby is the way to go. Or maybe I should just pay more attention to my husband.

happy thanksgiving

I am thankful for my wonderful husband, who is putting a tired baby boy to bed right now. And who will most likely fall asleep himself in the process.

I am thankful for an active, healthy, inquisitive son whose big brown eyes help me remember to see the wonder in the world. Even when I've already seen that particular wonder fifteen times that morning.

I am thankful for a strong, independent, spirited daughter whose antics bring a smile to my face. Most of the time.

I am thankful for loving, supportive parents who treat my children like royalty. Even when the royals are behaving badly.

I am thankful I got to spend time with all of them today.

less than three days

until Wicked Woollen makes its retail debut at the craft fair! Today was spent washing and blocking everything, and here's a shot of a bathtub o' knitted goodness to prove it.

My basement (the "Dungeon") is full of wool in varying degrees of wetness. (I'm also blocking Mystery Christmas Gift #1.) Let me tell you, my house smells like a barn. Is it wrong that I kind of like that?

What were the babies up to while Jen and I were being good little entrepreneurs? Oh, they found ways to amuse themselves. Some of the ways didn't even involve Magic Baby beating the crap out of Baby Sister. See?All in all, quite a productive day. Not in terms of housework, of course (although I did do a load of laundry... but really that was just because I wanted to felt the Mystery Gift and I needed to throw some jeans in with it), but what are you going to do? It's all about priorities. Clearly, mine are spot on.

baby's first snowfall

At least, the first one he could go out and play in. (Honestly, it wasn't really the best play snow. It was pretty wet... and there wasn't much, but I'm an eager Mama, so I took Magic Baby out. Plus it's NaBloPoMo, and I had nothing good to post. Yes, I will exploit my children for blog fodder. Does anyone have a problem with that?) He wasn't sure at first. He kept telling me "Cooooold" and he wasn't keen on touching it, but I took lots of pictures anyway, because this is one of those moments you need to document and cherish, dammit.

After awhile, he started to enjoy himself. He even fought me when it was time to come back in, although that's not really surprising since he's going through a stage where he fights me about everything. We couldn't do the traditional hot cocoa after playing in the snow, because Magic Baby reacts poorly to sugar (as in, he's up all freakin' night, and since that's how we've spent the last few nights anyway, I wasn't taking any chances). So we followed our snow frolic with microwaved canned green beans and string cheese. Mmmmm. Overall, a very nice winter day.

asl

(A word to the wise- Don't get your significant other into blogging. If he's anything like mine, he'll hog the computer and seriously cut into your posting time.)

Anyway,
For the past three years or so, I've taken classes in American Sign Language, which I absolutely love. At the beginning of this semester, we had to pretend we owned a small store. Let me tell you, it took me, like twenty seconds to decide what kind of a store I would have. Any guesses? Here's a clue: it's a yarn shop. What I didn't know was that we were going to have to design the store (way too much fun, btw), then present it to the class and have them "shop" there. I felt pretty dorky when I realized this, as all of the other stores were either coffee shops, grocery stores, or pet stores. And there I was trying to explain the difference between cotton and wool- in sign language. As a result of all this, I've learned a few things. First, if you are not a knitter (which was, oh, everyone in my class), you cannot comprehend spending $16 on a skein of sock yarn. (We won't even get into the discussions on the cost of handspun alpaca.) Second, my teacher is not all that familiar with the signs for knitters' jargon, which means I had to fingerspell a lot of it. Then I had to spell it again, since the class was pretty convinced I didn't actually spell b-a-m-b-o-o y-a-r-n. Surely no such yarn exists. Lastly, I enjoyed owning my own yarn shop way more than I should. Even if the store was fake. And even if it was full of non-knitters. And even though I couldn't actually knit while I pretended to work there. (Leave it to me to study the one language that you simply cannot speak while knitting. Yeah, you kind of need full use of your hands for this one.) It really was fun to admire the (pretend) hanks of beautiful handspun yarn hanging from the rafters in my old-barn-converted-to-a-yarn-shop (I took that from The Wool Patch) or to (imagine) see(ing) the sock yarns snuggled together in bins by the (fake) register. Not to mention the pleasure of rescuing (imaginary) non-knitters from the (very real) dark side. This experience has made me realize not only that owning a yarn store would be amazingly cool, but also that it may be time to up my medications, since clearly the hallucinations have returned.
Oh well. At least they're pretty.

baby jacket

Last night I helped my husband set up a blog for all his geeky Dungeons and Dragons friends, and as of right now he has 15 comments. On his first post. Clearly, there is no fairness in the blogging universe.

In retribution, I have decided to post about something nearly as dorky as D&D: knitting.

About a year ago, when I first learned to knit, I came across this really cute pattern in an old book from the '70s. I believe the book was Nursery Knits by Tessa Watts-Russell. (I'm not positive, but if anyone really wants to know, email me and I'll double-check at my library.) The pattern was for a baby jacket. Mind you at this point I had knit a total of two items; a scarf for my grandmother and an intarsia pillow for my mom. (Yeah, other than starting with a scarf, I didn't really follow the "new knitter" rules.) Clearly, I was ready to tackle all the complications of an entire jacket. So, armed with a copy of my pattern, I headed for Jo-Ann Fabrics (at the time, I didn't even know LYSs existed). First I noticed the pattern called for size 2 needles, so I bought a pair. Then I noticed how many balls of yarn it needed, and I bought that. (I decided on Paton's Merino, as wool is very warm and this was to be Magic Baby's Very Special Winter Jacket.) Notice if you will that I failed to mention the yarn actually called for by the pattern. This is because, in my naivety, I had no idea yarn even came in different weights, never mind that substituting yarn can lead to catastrophes. (As a more season knitter, I now realize "lightweight" yarn is not the same as "worsted" weight, but at that time that comparison would have sounded like "blah, blah, yarn, blah, blah".) I then proceeded to cast on the required 8,000,000 stitches of worsted-weight yarn onto size 2 needles and begin my project. Please note at this point that no mention is made of "gauge" or a "swatch." Here I cannot claim total innocence, for I knew these existed. I just failed to see how they applied to me.

Many of you are probably aghast at this point, certain this project was a complete disaster. How could it not be? I chose completely inappropriate yarn, I didn't swatch, I used teeny needles with worsted-weight yarn, and I didn't even alter the number of stitches to make up for any of this. The result, about a month (and much, much knitting) later surprised even me:

Please don't call DCYF, the bulb is not hot. Not that I would have let him touch it. That was all Hubby. Still, he didn't get hurt, and it's a pretty good picture. I think you really get a sense of the jacket as a whole, don't you. :)

Yes it's too big, but it's also still identifiable as a jacket. (And it's freakin' adorable, if I do say so myself.) Somehow, despite all of my mistakes, it came out pretty darned good, especially since this was, again, the third thing I had ever made. If I were to make it now, I would almost certainly have used a different yarn, or at least redone the pattern to accommodate the heavier weight, but I honestly don't think the finished project would have turned out any better. That's not to say my knitting hasn't improved, but I think some of the "mistakes" I made on the jacket actually caused it to be better than it would be with the alterations a more seasoned knitter would make. Mainly, the warmth. At first I was leery of sending my baby out in a New England winter wearing something I made as his first line of defense against the cold. Usually around here, kids are dressed like the little brother from A Christmas Story, and my son's only in a sweater? (I really hate when people call it that, btw. Just because it's knit does not mean it's automatically a sweater. Here's a clue: if it's snowing and he's wearing it with mittens and a scarf, it's a jacket, dammit.) I'll admit I was a little iffy on it, as was my (non-knitter) mom. Jen's mom made me feel much better when she said, "Worsted-weight wool on size 2s?! That's one warm coat!" I love her.

So, again this year, my Magic Baby can be seen around town in his Very Special Winter Jacket, still a little too big, and still often mistaken for a sweater. I know, though, that he is not only wrapped in very warm wool, but also that the wool, having been lovingly stitched by his mom, is something like a great big knitted hug, and if that's not the warmest thing in the world, I don't know what is.

it's beginning to look a lot like this won't get done in time

Well, I am temporarily "on a break" from craft fair knitting. I think I've made something like 6,284 cabled neckwarmers in the past few weeks; my hands simply refuse to knit another one. Instead I've started my Christmas knitting, which is good, since I had an anxiety attack when I realized just how many things I have to knit in the next month or so. Unfortunately, since the people I'm knitting for might actually read my blog, I can't be too detailed. I'll give some hints, though. (More than The Panopticon, too.)

Okay, the project I started last night is going to be felted. Um... that's pretty much all I can tell you, other than that since I have a fear of carrying my knitting along the back (I unfailingly screw up the tension), I used (many) separate balls to achieve the required two-color knitting. Of course I took pictures.

Yeah, I think I had eight separate balls attached at one point. (Oh,and can you see Hubby's leg in that bottom picture? This is what he was doing while I was diligently making Christmas presents.)

Playing Halo!

Surprisingly with all those balls, my yarn didn't really get tangled at all. I have no idea how I managed that; clearly I did something to please the knitting gods. Thankfully I'm past that part now and only have three separate color sections to work with. Phew.

I'm a tad nervous about the whole felting thing. I've only done it once before, with dreadful results although that was totally my fault for, you guessed it, not getting gauge. So it's understandable I'd be afraid this too will come out atrociously and I won't have time to fix it. Especially since Jen and I wrote the pattern ourselves. I'll post pictures and more details on Ravelry, since I know the gift's recipient is not a member, and I'll let the general blogging public know how this project goes in the future. Right now I have to put a hyper baby to bed. Note to self: Two cupcakes and many Rice Krispie treats at a friend's birthday party combined with a special Thanksgiving cupcake my mom bought him, surprisingly enough, leads to an overtired son who's still awake at quarter past nine. Go figure.

i'm it

Oh, I've been tagged! Fantastical Mediocrity tagged me through NaBloPoMo.
Rules:
1. Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 random and/or weird things about yourself.
3. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
4. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

So, here are seven random facts about me:
1. My socks hardly ever match. We're not talking they're both white but one's slightly longer here. One could be fuchsia and the other yellow polka dots. It doesn't matter to me. I figure, how often does someone see your socks, anyway? (FYI, this is a major point of contention between my mother and myself. Especially since my kids seem to have inherited this trait.)

2. When I was in high school, I had one of those official high school jackets all the athletes wear, only mine said "Tolman Freaks" because that's what my friends and I called ourselves. I thought I was so cool.

3. I got my Bachelor's degree in Theatre. Yeah, 'cause I've done a lot with that.

4. At my bridal shower, my husband and I discovered we were related. It's pretty distant, and through marriage and stuff, so there's nothing incestuous going on. Still, not something you want to find out less than two months before your wedding.

5. I once started a religion. True, there was only one other follower, but we dedicated ourselves to preaching the good word (that Leonardo DiCaprio is gorgeous) and we had regular meetings (okay, we had a meeting). It may not sound like much, but have you ever started a religion? Thought not.

6. I am now a relapsed HotKidist.

7. My favorite number is 9, and I like when licence plates add up to it.

Okay, so who did I tag? (It seems like everyone has already been tagged, but here's who I finally found:)
1. Green About the Gills
2. Achilles Heals
3. CarbonDown
4. MomSpeak
5. Ninja Books
6. In the Gutter
7. Squidgett's Journal

Seriously, I heart NaBloPoMo.

zoom zoom zoom

Yeah, do you see how I just signed up for NaBloPoMo? Care to know what took me so long? It was that frickin' dial-up we had. I tried valiantly to make do with that crap, but it just was not working for me. So today, I took the plunge: I signed up for high-speed internet and it is amazing. I'm flying all over the 'net. No more waiting hours for pages to load. (Seriously, uploading three pictures to this blog took a minimum of twenty minutes. No word of lie.) I can finally do whatever I want and go where ever I want to go. It's just like when I got my drivers license, although hopefully without the speeding tickets and accidents. Finally, the world wide web is mine! Mwa-ha-ha!
Okay, sorry about the maniacal laughter there, but after a really stressful day (lots of crying and whining, from both Magic Baby and myself) it feels great to not want to strangle my computer, too. Not that I actually strangled anyone today. Or ever. (Although the thought has certainly crossed my mind.) I'm sure you know what I mean. Long story short: Cold, rainy, crappy day - Hubby (who was with Big Sister and therefore not able to just take the kid already) + amazing new internet server = one happy me. *Sigh* What more can I ask for?

ebert & roeper, watch out

In the "probably a waste of money since I never go out and rarely watch t.v. but it makes me feel cool" department, I subscribe to Entertainment Weekly. Over the summer, I read their review of Knocked Up (which they loved) and decided I wanted to see it. (I think I was trusting them mainly because they include a section on books, and since this makes them seem to me to be quite literary-minded, I felt they would steer clear of gross and/or juvenile humor.) I decided I wanted to see it so much in fact, that when my mom and I were planning on going to a movie, I not only recommended the aforementioned one, but also invited my cousin. My 14 year old cousin. There was some debate about the content of Knocked Up and it's appropriateness, given those attending, but I stood firmly behind EW, quoting how "extremely funny" and "fresh" they claimed it was. And so we ditched Hairspray and went to see Knocked Up.
Apparently, during my careful (and I use the term loosely) reading of EW's article, I missed all mention of the main topic of the movie; namely that the girl gets, well, knocked up. I also missed any discussion they may (or may not) have had about some very explicit scenes depicting this. I also missed the memo that said (*spoiler alert*) there is some incredibly graphic footage of a woman giving birth. (As in, more graphic than anything I've ever seen, and I've actually given birth.) Needless to say, the movie was totally inappropriate for a girl barely in her teens, my mom was mad at me, we were all embarrassed, and none of us enjoyed the movie. (On the plus side, I don't think we have to worry about that particular cousin getting pregnant before she's 30. If ever, really. Seriously, the movie made me reconsider having another kid. "It really looks like that?! Ewwww." I know, some women use mirrors and stuff, but honestly I'm more of a believer in the "there's a reason it happens that far from your face" philosophy of child birth.)
Anyway, after months of feeling guilty that I dragged them to a really bad movie, I finally got the chance to make it up to everyone. Yesterday my mom, my aunt, her daughter (the same traumatized cousin of the Knocked Up fiasco), my sister-in-law and I decided to have a girls' night out. The movie of (my) choice? Dan in Real Life. I know Steve Carell is not usually the go-to guy when trying to pick a funny-but-not-stupid-or-gross movie, but, again I had read in EW that this was a different role for him and that the movie was excellent. Once more, I blindly trusted the magazine and...

this time...

they were absolutely right. The movie was cute, sweet and funny, and coolest of all, it was filmed n Rhode Island so we got to do the whole "I know where that is!" thing while we watched it. We had a really great night, which culminated with drinking hot cocoas with my mom and my sister-in-law, chatting and gossipping until midnight. It was a lot of fun, so after all that rambling I'd like to say... I'm very thankful for my family. I have an amazing mother (which I knew and have actually been admitting to the last few years). I also just recently acquired a wonderful sister-in-law. She and my brother were married at the beginning of October, and I'm really glad they found each other. He was one of those guys you never think is going to settle down, and she was an old friend of the family. The fact that they even started dating was pretty surprising to us all, but in a good way. She's and I have a lot in common (although she doesn't knit. Yet.) and I have a great time hanging out with her. So, Kate, if you ever read this, I love having you as my sister and I'm thankful to Cupid for setting you up with my little brother. :)

One last spoiler: In Dan in Real Life, Dan's teenage daughter says something like "Can't that wait? Aunt Sally's going to teach me how to knit." I was not expecting this mention of knitting and it caused me to involuntarily do the whole fist-in-the-air-while-shouting-"YESSSS!" thing. Right in the middle of the theater. Geeky, I know, but it gets worse. I was wearing my handknit sweater at the time. I have a feeling my family thought I chose the movie based solely one that one knitting reference, which is just silly. Now, that quote and the seemingly handknit (and absolutely adorable) hat the littlest sister wore in the car as they drove to RI? Those two together make a perfectly respectable reason to go see this flick, but going to a movie just to hear someone mention knitting or wear a handknit article is ridiculous. If that's all I wanted, I could just stay home. I mean really, isn't that what the internet is for?

thousands of words

As promised, here are more pictures from Wicked Woollen's Winter 2007 photo shoot. Magic Baby's still awake (will he ever sleep?) and actively seeking out trouble (climbing the stairs, playing with my cell phone, standing on chairs, banging on the computer keyboard- and that was just the last 30 seconds), so I can't do a long post. Maybe I'll get a chance to post again later.

exclusive pics

Jen and a I have signed up to do a craft fair in a few weeks. Our plan is to parlay our knitting obsessions into some actual cash. Today we grabbed some random teenagers off the street and had them model our stuff. So, without further ado I give you exclusive pictures from the Wicked Woollen photo shoot!

I must say, I'm getting excited about the craft fair (I really hope we actually sell things). Seriously, taking the pictures today was way too much fun, even in the cold! Thanks to my cousins (yeah, we didn't actually grab strangers. That would be weird.) for freezing their arses (and fingers; Wicked Woollen doesn't do gloves yet) off. I love you guys!

Tune in tomorrow for more pics! Same Bat-Time, same Bat-Channel!

meme's the word

Thank goodness for meme's! I had no idea what I was going to post, but I found this on Amy's blog and decided to swipe it.

1. Name one person who made you laugh last night. The comedians at the show made me laugh!
2. What were you doing at 0800? *guilty face* Still sleeping. Hubby's home, remember?
3. What were you doing 30 minutes ago? Playing Taboo.
4. What happened to you in 2006? I had a baby!
5. What was the last thing you said out loud? "Jakers!"
6. How many beverages did you have today? Quite a few. Mostly water, one Shirley Temple, nothing alcoholic.
7. What color is your hairbrush? Black. I'm kinda lame.
8. What was the last thing you paid for? Bracelet clasps.
9. Where were you last night? How cool is it that I can answer something other than "home"? I was at a comedy show.
10. What color is your front door? White.
11. Where do you keep your change? Why, are you looking to rob me? Actually, I have a large can of change in my bedroom. My room's the one on the back right if you're looking at the house from the street. Our spare key is located...
12. What’s the weather like today? Frickin' cold.
13. What’s the best ice-cream flavor? Coffee!!!
14. What excites you? Yarn, shopping, yarn shopping, playing board games, spending time with my family.
15. Do you want to cut your hair? Yes but then once I do I wish I hadn't. I hate my hair, long or short so I cut and let grow. Cut and let grow. It's a vicious cycle.
16. Are you over the age of 25? Maybe.
17. Do you talk a lot? Well, I was going to put "no", but Jen's over and she literally laughed out loud, so I guess that'll have to be "yes".
19. Do you know anyone named Steven? No. Oh wait, my husband. Yeah, my husband's name is Steven.
20. Do you make up your own words? Yefinitely nawt.
21. Are you a jealous person? Actually, not usually.
22. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter "A." Amanda.
23. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter "K." Kathryn, Kellie, Kristen. (They were all over tonight playing Taboo, actually.)
24. Who’s the first person on your received call list? My mom.
25. What does the last text message you received say? God, I can't even find my phone at the moment. I lose that thing at least once a week.
26. Do you chew on your straw? Yep. Pen caps, too.
27. Do you have curly hair? Well, parts of the left side do a kind of wavy thing (especially right in the front) but the rest of it's pretty straight. Did I mention I hate my hair?
28. Where’s the next place you’re going to? Bed. It's after midnight.
29. Who’s the rudest person in your life? Honestly, probably me.
30. What was the last thing you ate? Tortilla chips and popcorn. (Hey, it's Game Night.)
31. Will you get married in the future? Probably not. I did get married once in the past, though.
32. What’s the best movie you’ve seen in the past 2 weeks? I haven't seen a movie recently, but I saw a couple episodes of "Flight of the Conchords" on DVD, does that count? It was pretty funny.
33. Is there anyone you like right now? I like the cute boy in the second row.
36. Did you cry today? Yes, but they were tears of laughter, by Jakers!
37. Why did you answer and post this? To quote Amy, "I'm doing NaBloPoMo, it's Sunday, and it's an easy post!"
38. Tag 5 people who would do this survey. Okay, I only know one, so Jen consider yourself tagged. Anyone else who feels like it can be one of the other four.

3 years, 36 days

ago was when Hubby and I got married and today we finally were able to celebrate our anniversary! Let me tell you, when you don't get out much, choosing what to do on a night like tonight is a monumental decision. Do we do the traditional dinner and a movie? Do we try the new indoor mini-golf place my parents like? It was tough to decide, but we ended up going to a comedy show at The Stadium Theatre in Woonsocket. (I really like live shows.) Most of it was good, Ocean State Follies was there (they're pretty well-known around here for poking fun at the state of our state), as were a few other guys I'd never heard of, and Hubby and I laughed here and there. Then, this guy Brian Kiley came out. He's an Emmy-winning writer for Conan O'Brien's show (apparently those writers have some free time on their hands at the moment). Oh. My. God. He was hilarious. Hubby and I were laughing so hard we were literally crying. I had a coughing fit right in the middle of his act. It was great. I'm not going to try to repeat any of his jokes here; I definitely wouldn't do him justice, but trust me: if you ever get a chance to see this guy, go! He was fabulous, and his entire act was very clean (which was refreshing).
Before the show we tried to go to Yarnia, which is also in Woonsocket, but sadly they were closed. We found this really nice restaurant right next to it, though, called River Falls. The atmosphere was nice, the whole place seemed fancy but not overly so, the prices weren't bad and the food was delicious. This place is definitely a find. It's in a converted mill, too, and the way they decorated the inside was very cool. They even have jazz bands and a piano lounge and stuff (although we didn't check those things out). Oh, and did I mention it's right next to a yarn store? Yeah, that is like my favorite restaurant now.
So, we had a great (if belated) anniversary. It was really nice to spend time together, just the two of us, out of the house. I'm glad we decided to go to the comedy show, not only because it was fun, but also because it was sort of symbolic of our whole relationship (in a dorky way). We've always liked to laugh and joke around a lot; our marriage isn't stuffy or formal; we're very relaxed and low-key. I'm not explaining this very well, but somehow going to a show where we could really have a good time seemed to sum up us, I guess. Anyway, I'm glad we went. And I'm very glad I married such a wonderful man. Happy Anniversary, honey!

in defense of knitting

Yeah, Hubby's home! After 16 straight days of work, he has a four-day weekend! AND Saturday we're finally going out for our anniversary (which was October 2; better late than never, right?). Woo-hoo!

Magic Baby was super excited that Daddy was home all day. He totally didn't want me around, and as evil as it sounds, I didn't let it bother me. Instead I...

1) slept in... until almost 9! (They went out to breakfast.)

2) took a nap when MB (and Hubby) did. (Hey, story hour at the library takes a lot out of me, too.)

3) went to Jen's house to knit while Hubby put MB to bed. (We had planned that days ago.)

Let me tell you, today was wonderful. I am truly blessed to have such a great husband.


While I'm on the topic of my husband, I need to tell the blogosphere that he's not exactly fond of you. See, last night when he went to bed, I allegedly said I would be up soon so Hubby turned of the baby monitor in the computer room (unbeknownst to me). Then... I got a little sidetracked by Jen... and Mad, Mad Housewife... and Amy ... and The Yarn Harlot, and you get the picture. Anyway, I guess Magic Baby woke up and because the monitor was off (which again, I didn't know), I didn't hear him and Hubby had to get up with him. Normally, this wouldn't have been a big deal, but I guess Hubby was a little upset because he says I said I'd be to bed soon, and here I was still reading blogs. (In my defense, I have no recollection of ever saying I was going to bed ever, let alone soon.) Apparently he thinks I've become obsessed. (Who out there blames me, really? Those blogs are just hilarious, and I have so many to read to catch up with everyone else!)


I guess he thinks this is a much better way to spend your free time:

(Hubby's in the red bandanna and the Resident Evil t-shirt, my dad's the one in the foreground, Jen's brother is the shadowy one on the right, and Hubby's friend can sort of be seen to Hubby's left. They are in what Hubby calls "The Dungeon" and what most people call "the basement." I'm not making that up.)

That is a picture of my husband playing Dungeons & Dragons this evening. He is "The Dungeon Master" which means he writes all of the adventures and stuff. It also means that he owns a lot of books, as shown here:

and here:

All of this serves as proof of two things. First, my husband is a dork. Second, he really can't complain about my knitting and blogging hobbies since his "stash" is waaaaay bigger than mine, and D&D takes up at least as much time as blogging. By the way, did you see all those books?! There's no way I'll ever have that many skeins of yarn (although this is an admirable goal which I am certainly trying my hardest to achieve). Care to know how much all those books cost? Let's just say cashmere. Lots and lots of cashmere. And that's not even taking into account the hundreds (yes, hundreds) of magazines he has. I only have, like, three knitting magazines at the moment! Hubby's argument is that he has accumulated his stash over about two decades and I've only been knitting for a year. Somehow he thinks this means I should have fewer skeins than he has books. (Yeah, I don't get logic that either.) Clearly, he has not heard the rumors (from no less a reliable source than The Yarn Harlot) of an impending wool shortage. Ha! The joke's on him, though, for when the Woolen Apocalypse comes, I'll be ready. And maybe, if he's good and promises to let me sleep through the commotion, I'll knit something nice for him.

lounging around

This is how Magic Baby and I spent our afternoon, playing with blocks.

Very large blocks which he (okay, and Hubby, Big Sister and I if you want the truth) really loves.

Basking in the sun; how very GQ!

Yes, that's a baby-sized armchair and couch. Tell me this kid isn't spoiled. (And where did that Binky come from? He's only supposed to have it at bedtime. Like I said, he's not spoiled at all.)

go magic baby!

I promised Hubby I'd spend some time with him tonight. (Seriously, this computer just sucks me in.) Quickly, though, I wanted to tell you that Magic Baby peed in the potty today! He's been really into watching Daddy use the "big boy toilet" lately (I'll admit I was getting a little freaked out by just how much he was enjoying this), and tonight, after Daddy went, he announced that he wanted to try. So, we let him have a go, and he actually went! Of course, I realize he's on the young side for potty training and I don't believe in forcing him to try, but this was all on his own. Pretty neat if you ask me, because honestly I would be cool with it if he wanted to stop using diapers. I know that's very noble of me, but that's the kind of mom I am. "What, honey, you don't want to be in diapers anymore? You'd rather Mommy not have to wipe your arse eight times a day? Well, okay, if you insist..." Yep, just call me Mother of the Year.

those must have been some good socks

Both of my parents had today off and they were looking for something to do. I (half) jokingly said they should take Magic Baby to the Children's Museum... and they did. Without me. How amazing is that? I had two and a half hours to myself today. During which I could *gasp* leave the house if I wanted to. Wow. And what did I do with all this "me" time? I went to the gym (quite good of me, no?) and the library. MB and I go to the library at least once a week, but this time I could actually look for books in the adult section and not worry about where he was or how many books he was pulling off the shelf. Mere words cannot describe how wonderful it was. I am deeply indebted to my fabulous parents for this afternoon; I'm looking for an adequate way to demonstrate my thankfulness. I'm thinking... more socks, perhaps?

nothing much

Did you ever have one of those days when you're really busy and it seems like you're getting a lot done, but when someone asks you what you did all day you honestly have to go "Eh, not much." Today was one of those. I mean, I did housework (hope you were all sitting down for that one), I went to school, I did the marketing, and I took care of Magic Baby. Oh, and I visited my mom's school because today's her birthday. But did I do anything fun, exciting, or worth blogging about? Nope. So instead of boring you with details of my day (see how that's funny, 'cause I already bored you with details of my day), here's a cute picture of my kids.

And just for fun, here's one of my daughter and her two friends. Don't you love the cross-dresser on the left? He's not mine.

(And lest you think they were dressed up for Halloween, allow me to set you straight. This is what they do whenever they play together.)

And here's a picture of the socks I made my mom for her birthday. Yeah, my first pair of socks!

It's Tofu-tsies yarn (which I loved). Nothing fancy (I wanted the yarn to speak for itself), although I did use Knitty's Universal Toe-Up Sock Formula to calculate the number of stitches and stuff. Oh, and for the record I used the Mediterranean Cast On and I knit both socks at once using the Magic Loop. I definitely prefer this method, because I am a big sufferer of Second Sock Syndrome (Second Anything Syndrome, really) and this helps alleviate those symptoms.

One last picture. Here's my mom when I gave her the socks:

Okay not really, but we all know that's just because she hasn't worn them yet. Happy Birthday, Mom!

giving thanks

Okay, after yesterday's minor digression, it's back to finding the good side in everything:

I got to spend lots of time with the kids this weekend. Lots and lots of time. I am thankful for this because we honestly had a great time. We spent the last three days reading, doing art projects, dancing (to John Lennon's 'Working Class Zero.' Yeah, bet you thought it was 'Hero.' Not in this house. Getting lyrics wrong is like a disease here.) and generally just being goofy. Of course we missed Hubby (who is still on overtime), but we had a lot of fun just the three of us. It's been a long time since we had a Daddy-free day. Before Magic Baby was born (and before she started school), Big Sister and I would have a girls' day every other Friday, but I don't think we've hung out without the hubby in over a year, so while his schedule is still crappy, this weekend was actually a nice throwback for us.

Also, I am thankful for the 45 minute drive to and from Big Sister's mother's house. "Why?" you ask, "Surely a drive like that can't be enjoyable!" Ah, but when you haven't had any time to yourself all weekend, a nice long drive on a beautiful night with some good music (in this case the soundtrack to 'Wicked.' Man those witches rock.) is like a week-long spa getaway. Okay maybe not exactly like it, but it's as close as I'm going to come so let me keep my fantasy, will ya'.

And finally for tonight, I am thankful that the Patriots beat the Colts. Not because I am a particularly huge football fan, but it really makes life in New England more enjoyable when our teams are on top. Plus, Hubby is way less pissy when Manning loses. Oh yeah, and Tom Brady's not too bad on the eyes either. Really, that about sums up why I'm a Patriots fan: they're the home team, Hubby (and all of my family, actually) love them, Peyton Manning does not play for them, Tom Brady's cute. Sound shallow? Right, like your reasons are any better. Anyway, go Pats!

paging judy blume

I may be divulging way too much information, but here goes.

I noticed two things today. First, my 7 1/2 year old step-daughter is beginning to, um, develop certain things. Second, my certain things are beginning to, um, sag. I'm not sure which upsets me more. Actually, that's a total lie. The fact that I'm, let's say, less perky than before was way more depressing. I mean, the grey hairs I let slide. The ten-year high school reunion I enjoyed, but sagging? Come on, I'm not even 30! I realize this is a natural occurrence, one I can chalk up to having been pregnant, giving birth and nursing my son for 20 months (not to mention everyone's pal gravity), but that doesn't make this any easier. (By the way, if you happen to be a woman who nursed all eight of her kids until they were teenagers and still manages to naturally have the breasts of an 18 year-old, please don't comment on this post. Let me keep my illusions.) It's totally unavoidable now. The facts are staring me in the face (okay, they're actually staring more towards the floor but you get what I mean). I. am. getting. old. How did this happen? When did this happen? I mean, I remember when I, like my step-daughter, first got these things. Not that I was ever really friendly with them or anything (that's right, no bosom buddies here); I was never one to flaunt, but they are a part of me. It's like when I wasn't looking, they went on vacation. Someplace south. Let me tell you this is not cool. And what can I do about it? Absolutely nothing. Oh sure, I can smile and accept my changing body as it is, but I'll tell you right now that's not going to happen. And you know what's probably the most ironic thing about all this? I just got used to everything the way it was. I mean, about 20 years ago I started to go through the normal pubertal (yep, that word's real) changes and I absolutely hated it. (Although I think everyone does.) Now that I'm an adult and feel things are finally under control and where I want them to be, they move. Whose idea was all this, 'cause let me tell you, I'd like to register a complaint. And, AND, the icing on the cake of all this is, who is there to talk to? Yeah, I know I have friends and a husband an all that, but be honest, do they really want to know this about me? Hell, I don't even want to know this about me. What I really need is Judy Blume, that amazing author whose novels helped generations of girls accept everything about growing up. Why hasn't she written anything about growing old? You can't tell me Margaret doesn't have any questions for God on this one. Judy: the one I turned to for answers the last time my body turned on me. If you ever read this (because I'm sure you frequent this blog), please write something for us. Please tell us it's okay to get old. Please tell us this is normal. Please answer the myriad questions we don't even know we have. Please tell us what happened to all those great characters when they looked in the mirror and realized everything had changed. Again. We need you, just like we needed you twenty years ago. Without you, we'll have to resort to writing depressing blogs we hope no one actually reads.

ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

So I was checking out Amy's blog and as I read her post about writing down little things for which she is thankful I thought, "Damn, I could never do that. I am way too much of a curmudgeon." (Okay, so maybe I didn't think it in exactly those words, but that's the general idea.) Then I thought, "Do I really need to act so curmudgeonly?" (That's a real word; I spell-checked it.) I mean, I complain, like, constantly about basically everything I see/hear/do. Honestly, I am bad. I don't know how anyone puts up with me. I know I wouldn't. And really, I have no reason for it. I have a great life and a wonderful family. I know this, and yet I can't seem to let things go without a snide comment or a roll of the eyes. It's funny because I've reflected on this quite a bit recently; I've even tried a few times to stop being such a whiner, but I haven't been able to change my attitude. (This of course leads to me complaining about how I can't stop complaining and whammo, the bitch is back.) Anyway, motivated by Amy and in the spirit of the upcoming holiday season, I have decided to make yet another attempt at being more civil and benevolent towards my fellow human beings. I will start with an exercise in thankfulness in which I take things about which I normally would have complained and contemplate why these are the very things for which I should be giving thanks. (In no particular order:)

Complaint 1: My son is, um, rambunctious. Currently 20-months old, he climbs on the couch and window seat then throws himself off. He bites me. A lot. He completely ignores me when I say "no." He is not a fan of playing by himself; as a result it has become my duty to keep him constantly entertained. I am emotionally and physically drained at the end of the day.

Why I should be thankful for this: My son is a healthy 20-month-old. He has the ability to not only walk, but also to climb. Well. He bites because he is trying to give me kisses and is still learning how to do that. He bites me a lot because he loves me a lot. He still thinks "no" is a game because he's still a baby, really. (Disclaimer: This doesn't mean I let him get away with biting or misbehaving; only that I understand his reasons for doing so.) He doesn't really need to be entertained all the time. Part of my job as his mom is to help him learn to entertain himself, but really is it so bad that he wants to be with me so much? He's a pretty great kid; I should be glad he likes me. Yes, I'm tired at the end of the day, but that is because I have the privilege of staying home with him. He doesn't have to go to daycare. I don't have to leave him and go to work. This I know is wonderful. I spend a ton of quality time with my boy and I am extremely grateful. Plus, he's freakin' adorable. How can I not be thankful for that one?

Complaint 2: My husband is working crazy overtime. Monday through Thursday he works from 6-4:30, Friday through Sunday he works from 6-2:30. (Yep, he's on seven days a week at the mo'.)When he gets home, he's tired and I'm stressed. I want to get out of the house, he wants to stay in. At the same time, I haven't seen him all day and I'd like to, so doing different activities makes me feel guilty.

Why I should be thankful for this: Hubby working crazy hours means Hubby is healthy enough to work said hours. Also, the extra money means a bit more financial security, and that's nice to have when there's only one income. Not sure what there is to be thankful for in the "he's tired and I'm stressed" department, but I bet if I were to get off my arse and go to the gym or the movies (or knitting group) once or twice a week, my stress level would go way down and I would be able to enjoy the time we have together much more. Also, OT is almost finished and a light at the end of the tunnel is always something for which to be grateful.

And now I feel guilty that I've been blogging instead of hanging with the hubby. He's actually playing video games right now, so it's not like he's not having fun, but the guilt is there nonetheless. So, I'm going to see if he wants to play Yahtzee or something in which we actually interact with each other. I'll try to be more kind in "real life" and I'll post soon to let you know how it goes. I'll also try to post more thankful-type things. I'm sure you'll be waiting with bated breath. (Does it count as bitchy if I'm making fun of myself?)

happy (belated) halloween

Halloween around here was a little different this year. One year ago yesterday my father-in-law passed away unexpectedly. Taking a cue from my husband, he and I didn't wear costumes. (This was the first time we haven't.) Also, Magic Baby's costume wasn't handmade, partially because I tried to refrain from mentioning Halloween much and partly because MB was in my brother's wedding a few weeks ago and we had to buy a tux for him; the frugal part of me wanted to get as much use from it as possible. So I decided to slap a cape on that baby and call him a vampire. Hey, it works for me.
Big Sister's costume wasn't handmade either. She decided to be an undead pirate.
Seriously, they are some cute kids.
Of course the kids had a great time and got way too much candy. More importantly, Hubby seemed to handle the day well. Obviously it was hard for him, but he's a trooper. Supposedly it gets easier as time goes on. I'm not sure about that, but I guess we'll see. Anyway, hope all the witches and warlocks out there had a great day and got a great haul!