lily potter knits

swimsuit shopping

2009-06-07T10:17:00.003-04:00

is great when you have a baby girl to shop for!

Yes, I realize someday she'll hate me for putting her in a ladybug bikini, but how could I resist showing off that belly?!

shamelessly begging- for a good cause, though

2009-05-23T00:05:00.010-04:00

Okay, so last year when I was getting ready for the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life, I did a big elaborate post about why I Relay AND I had a contest featuring hand-spun, hand-dyed yarn. This year, in light of the facts that a) I had a baby just a few months ago and b) I never actually announced the winner of the contest (it was Jen's mom's friend, by the way), I figured I'd just put up some nifty links in the side bar and tell anyone who's willing (and able- I know it's a tough year) to donate something that I really do appreciate your efforts.

Also, I figured I'd (finally) put up some pictures of last year's Relay. Better late than never, right?

That's our team- Raggedy's Rascals. The Relay theme was "Movies." Our chosen movie was "Pirates of the Caribbean." We won the award for "Most Spirited Team" (due mostly, I think to my husband's fabulous Jack Sparrow costume and my dad's equally stunning Captain Hook one).

Here's my mom (a 3-year cancer survivor) with the yarn we gave away as part of the contest. (She's not a knitter, but she was still very grateful to all of you who are and who generously donated.)

Our Relay is next Friday- Saturday, but there are events happening all over the country (and even other countries!). I definitely recommend attending one in your area if you can. For those who have been touched by cancer (and really, who hasn't?) it's truly a moving, uplifting event.

(Special thanks to my guest photographer, the aforementioned Jen, whose pictures of my husband, dad, and the luminarias I totally swiped from her blog.)

poem in your pocket day

2009-04-30T22:15:00.008-04:00

Today (the last day of National Poetry Month) is Poem in Your Pocket Day, a day to share poetry however you see fit. I had a hard time choosing a poem for today, which is kind of surprising, as I'm not really a huge poetry person. I decided to go with an old family favorite. It was in a poetry book that belonged to my great-grandmother. When my mom was a kid, she and her siblings would read the poem whenever they visited Memere's and when Mem passed away, my mom inherited the book, and would often share this (and other) poems with us. This is one we all loved. I'm not really sure why, maybe the fact that we got to say "Oh Christ!" when reading it, or maybe because of the gruesome picture of a hand reaching up out of the water, with a drop of blood hanging off its finger (the picture below, Inchcape Rock by Gerry Lazare, isn't the exact one from the book, but it's pretty close). Regardless, to this day if you say to anyone in my family "Oh Christ!" they'll reply "It is the Inchcape Rock!" This poem isn't very fancy or sophisticated or modern. It just tells a story; it doesn't really have any deep meaning, but it's kind of fun and I like it, so I'm going to share it. And so without further ado, I present

Inchcape Rock by Robert Southey

No stir in the air, no stir in the sea,
The Ship was still as she could be;
Her sails from heaven received no motion,
Her keel was steady in the ocean.

Without either sign or sound of their shock,
The waves flow’d over the Inchcape Rock;
So little they rose, so little they fell,
They did not move the Inchcape Bell.

The holy Abbot of Aberbrothok
Had placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock;
On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung,
And over the waves its warning rung.

When the Rock was hid by the surge’s swell,
The Mariners heard the warning Bell;
And then they knew the perilous Rock,
And blest the Abbot of Aberbrothok

The Sun in the heaven was shining gay,
All things were joyful on that day;
The sea-birds scream’d as they wheel’d round,
And there was joyaunce in their sound.

The buoy of the Inchcpe Bell was seen
A darker speck on the ocean green;
Sir Ralph the Rover walk’d his deck,
And fix’d his eye on the darker speck.

He felt the cheering power of spring,
It made him whistle, it made him sing;
His heart was mirthful to excess,
But the Rover’s mirth was wickedness.

His eye was on the Inchcape Float;
Quoth he, “My men, put out the boat,
And row me to the Inchcape Rock,
And I’ll plague the Abbot of Aberbrothok.”

The boat is lower’d, the boatmen row,
And to the Inchcape Rock they go;
Sir Ralph bent over from the boat,
And he cut the bell from the Inchcape Float.

Down sank the Bell with a gurgling sound,
The bubbles rose and burst around;
Quoth Sir Ralph, “The next who comes to the Rock,
Won’t bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok.”

Sir Ralph the Rover sail’d away,
He scour’d the seas for many a day;
And now grown rich with plunder’d store,
He steers his course for Scotland’s shore.

So thick a haze o’erspreads the sky,
They cannot see the sun on high;
The wind hath blown a gale all day,
At evening it hath died away.

On the deck the Rover takes his stand,
So dark it is they see no land.
Quoth Sir Ralph, “It will be lighter soon,
For there is the dawn of the rising Moon.”

“Canst hear,” said one, “the breakers roar?
For methinks we should be near the shore.”
“Now, where we are I cannot tell,
But I wish we could hear the Inchcape Bell.”

They hear no sound, the swell is strong,
Though the wind hath fallen they drift along;
Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock,
“Oh Christ! It is the Inchcape Rock!”

Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair,
He curst himself in his despair;
The waves rush in on every side,
The ship is sinking beneath the tide.

But even is his dying fear,
One dreadful sound could the Rover hear;
A sound as if with the Inchcape Bell,
The Devil below was ringing his knell.
. . . . .

Also, I'd like to say thanks, Amy for making me read some poetry this month- it is kind of fun, and for posting some great poems to your blog- while raising three kids single-handedly no less!

a boy's fascination

2009-04-06T16:23:00.014-04:00

Wow, I haven't posted in over a month! And while March was extremely busy, I don't really have time to write about everything we did just yet. For now, here's a pair of poems (as it's National Poetry Month) that remind me of a certain boy I know.

The Little Boy to the Locomotive

by Benjamin R.C. Low

Big iron horse with lifted head,

Panting beneath the station shed,

You are my dearest dream come true;-

I love my Dad; I worship you!

Your noble heart is filled with fire,

For all your toil, you never tire,

And though you're saddled-up in steel,

Somewhere, inside, I know you feel.

All night in dreams when you pass by,

You breathe out stars that fill the sky,

And now, when all my dreams are true,

I hardly dare come close to you.

The Locomotive to the Little Boy

Boy, whose little, confiding hand

Your father holds, why do you stand

Staring in wonderment at me,-

Poor thing of iron that I be?

Your unsophisticated eyes

Are full of beautiful surprise;

And oh, how wonderful you are,

You little, golden morning-star!

Poor thing of iron that I be,

A mortal man imagined me;

But you- you drop of morning dew-

God and his heaven are globed in you.

tell her about it

2009-02-28T21:44:00.003-05:00

For the past couple of weeks, various colds have infiltrated my house. Thus, I have been quite popular as both Magic Boy and Happy Girl need me. All. The. Time. This has obviously cut into my blogging time (not to mention my almost-nonexistent-anyway alone time). Hopefully they will recover soon and I will be able to return fully to my blogging duties.

In the meantime, I give you these quick anecdotes courtesy of Magic Boy (who turned three this week... while he was sick, which really should not surprise me as he has been sick every year on his birthday).

I tell people that most of my day is spent narrating my day. This is because Magic Boy constantly asks me to ask or tell the baby what's going on with us. As is, "Momma, I want cereal. Tell her about it." Then I have to respond with something like, "Happy Girl, Magic Boy wants cereal." Likewise, we have conversations that go "Momma, do you know where my choo-choo-train is?"
"No, honey."
"Ask her about it."
"Happy Girl, do you know where Magic Boy's train is?"
"What did she say?"
"She said no."

The thing about these conversations is that we have them regardless of where the baby happens to be. So if we're in the kitchen and she's upstairs napping, I still have to ask her where the train is. Last week my parents took Magic Boy to their house for a few hours and my mother said he made her narrate the day to the baby- even though Happy Girl was at home with me. Also, if he tells me to ask the baby something and I don't he can't get past it. He'll wait, repeating, "Momma, ask her about it!" louder and louder until I finally ask the four-month old whatever it is he wants me to ask her. (Trust me, it's easier just to ask her right away.) I'm not really sure why he wants me to ask and tell her things, but it seems he really believes she's communicating somehow. This week, for example, I was sitting in the kitchen finishing my lunch. Happy Girl was relaxing in her swing a few feet away, and Magic Boy asked me if he could watch a movie. I whipped out the tried-and-true "We'll see" (I really don't like to let him watch t.v. but he's been sick so I've made exceptions). He went over to the swing, leaned in and whispered "Baby, can I watch a movie?" A few seconds later, he came running up to me, crying "She said no!!" Ummm... apparently the four-month old caves less easily to the boy's demands than I do. Who knew she could be such a strict disciplinarian?

Then, at dinner this evening, my husband and I were trying to convince Magic Boy that he should eat something (he hasn't been having any stomach problems). He didn't want to (clearly the pizza we were feeding him was really liver-and-onions in disguise) and got all worked up crying and carrying on about it. I put him on my lap and tried to calm him down, but apparently I was a bit late for that, and he vomited all over the floor and a good bit of my clothes. We went to the bathroom to clean up and when he was feeling a little better he said, "Tell Happy Girl I spit up like her."
"Happy Girl, Magic Baby spit up like you do."
"Tell her if she cries a lot she'll spit up."
"Happy Girl, if you cry a lot, you'll make yourself spit up."
"Tell her when I spit up it sprayed like a fireman putting out a fire."

That's right "it sprayed like a fireman putting out a fire." Not only does my life now contain similes comparing vomit to firefighting, but I get to relay these to an immobile blob who, apparently, has better control over the three- year old than I ever will.

Remind me again why I spent all that time in college?

photo meme

2009-02-05T19:45:00.018-05:00

Amy tagged me for a photo meme recently, so here goes. The rules are: Go to your sixth picture folder and pick your sixth picture. Pray you remember the details. Tag five others.

My sixth folder is labeled "Around the House- Spring 2006" and the sixth picture in it (taken on May 28, or so says my computer) is this:
My husband holding a crying Magic Boy, who was almost exactly three months old at the time. Coincidentally, Happy Girl is almost exactly three months old right now, so I figured I'd post a picture of her crying, too, just so you could see how much they look alike.

Not buying it? How about these pics?

(I swear, my kids are usually happy. Although the pictures in this post seem to suggest otherwise.)

And just to make things interesting, here's a picture of me at the same age. (In the interest of fairness, I tried to find a picture of my husband too, but I couldn't. Trust me, though, my kids look nothing like him.)

Is it just me, or are my genes completely overpowering? I mean, Happy Girl and I were even born with the same hairdo. It's kind of freaky.

Anyway, I'm tagging the following people (if any of you have been tagged already I apologize, but I checked and didn't see that you've done this particular meme yet):

1. Rose Red
2. emma
3. Nadine
4. Kathryn
5. You! (Yeah, I'm cheesy like that.)

Can't wait to see your pics!

baby photos

2009-01-17T22:19:00.003-05:00

Just thought I'd share some pictures!

The fat little fingers...
the chubby cheeks...

the big eyes...

the smiles and laughter (yep, she laughs now!) of one very Happy (not to mention sleepy) Girl!

monkey card!

2009-01-08T22:51:00.004-05:00

For some reason, I always find cards with monkeys on them hilarious. And that Barenaked Ladies song is pretty funny, too. So what would be a great thing to receive in the mail? A card from Monkey, Nadine's little boy! I promised him I'd flash it on the blog, so here it is- all the way from the Netherlands!

Thanks, Monkey!

a day in the life

2009-01-05T22:23:00.007-05:00

January 5, 2009

Get woken up ridiculously early by Magic Boy, who insists that he needs to go to the library right now.

Nurse the baby while trying to explain to the boy that the library is closed (seeing as the sun has yet to rise) and that we'll go as soon as they open. Also, protect the baby from her brother's repeated displays of "affection."

Pop waffles in the toaster for Magic Boy and down a fortifying glass of coffee milk. (Mmmmm...)

Butter the waffles, throw a banana on the plate and give it to Magic Boy. Take the baby in the next room to change her. Discover her diaper has exploded.

Wrestle with an inhuman amount of poop. Look over to find Magic Baby next to the bassinet. Eating Girl Scout Cookies. (Where the hell did he find those? 'Cause I thought I'd looked everywhere for that box...) Tell him we are absolutely not going to the library until he finishes breakfast.

Eat breakfast. Change Magic Boy. Dress Magic Boy. Tell Magic Boy to eat so we can go to the library. Feed the baby. Change the baby. Dress the baby. Tell Magic Boy to eat so we can go to the library.

Play with the baby. Attempt to clean the house. Tell Magic Boy to eat so we can go to the library.

Change Magic Boy. (Two words, kid: potty training.) Feed the baby. Change the baby. Tell Magic Boy to eat so we can go to the library.

Consider taking a quick shower, but quickly realize how foolish that idea is, as I haven't even peed by myself in two weeks. (Why he feels the need to join me, I have no idea. It's not like it's inspiring him to use the potty or anything. Not that I'm bitter, of course.) Instead, opt for throwing on some clothes, sticking my head in the sink and brushing my teeth.

Realize Magic Boy has finished breakfast. (Finally.) Look at the clock and see that it's... noon.

Debate with self and decide that a Good Mom would feed her kids before dragging them out of the house. Debate some more and conclude that I want to be an aforementioned Good Mom (plus I'm a little lightheaded- did I eat breakfast?). Prepare lunch.

Eat lunch alone, as Magic Boy is not hungry. ("Momma, I just had WAFFLES!") Feed the baby. Change the baby. Look over to find Magic Baby next to the bassinet. Eating pretzels. (Seriously, I don't even remember buying those...)

Decide to forget the whole Good Mom thing and just get out of the house, even if it means dragging starving children, as I'm pretty much ready to scream and/or have a nervous breakdown and at least getting to the library- hell, even getting to the car at this point- would feel like a major accomplishment.

Realize Happy Baby (in a wonderful show of irony) is not at all happy, and is in fact crying. Find and put on Magic Boy's shoes and jacket while listening to the baby cry. Find and put on my boots and Jedi wrap while listening to the baby cry. Find and put on Happy Baby's Baby Surprise Snowsuit while listening to the baby cry. Realize she has outgrown it already and resolve to add a few rows to the button part. Take a picture of her in it to post on Ravelry (before it's too late) while listening to the baby cry. [That link takes you to my Rav project page for the snowsuit. Stupid Blogger won't let me add pictures right now.]

Grab the baby from the bassinet and hoist her to my shoulder. Hear a splatter. Look over to find that the baby has vomited. Spectacularly. All over her snowsuit. And the Jedi wrap. And my only clean pair of pants that fit.

Sigh in defeat. Cover my ears and tell Magic Boy we're not going to the library after all. Explain (over his wails) that I'm pretty sure they have a "pants mandatory" rule, that's why.

Sit on the couch with the two of them. Nurse the baby to sleep. Read the boy to sleep. Cuddle, and get some peace back. Some. Until they wake up, of course.

things that are really starting to get to me

2008-12-14T22:26:00.005-05:00

Now, I know I haven't posted in a while and I have about a million (funny) things that I want to write about, but I really need to take a minute and whine. I am aware that life could be worse right now, a lot worse, but some (admittedly minor) things have really been stressing me out lately and I feel the need to vent, so please bear with me.

First, I have been trying to get everyone in the family on a schedule. (Normally, this would be difficult with a newborn, but all Happy Girl does is sleep, so that's not the issue.) Actually, I've been trying for months now, with little luck. We go through the whining and crying that goes with establishing a set bed time and routine, we're good for a few days and then... not so much. Why? Because Magic Boy really loves his big sister. (See? I told you it could be worse.) How is that a problem? He loves her so much that he wants to go on visitation with my husband every week (not to mention, for the ride to drop her off every other weekend). Still not seeing a problem, are you? Well, Big Sister lives 45 minutes away, and Hubby has been working (relatively) late, so by the time he gets out of work, picks up the boy, drives to Big Sister's and picks her up, it's already 5:00. Then they get dinner and hang out for awhile and the next thing you know, it's 7:30-8:00 and they're still 45 minutes from home. This means that Magic Boy will either fall asleep on the way home and stay asleep (which isn't too bad, although it's also not the most common outcome), or he'll fall asleep but wake up when he gets home, in which case he's just had a nice nap at 8:00 and is ready to play for another four hours OR he won't fall asleep at all and will be whiny and exhausted when he finally gets home, over an hour after his bedtime. (FYI- Whiny and exhausted means he'll fight us about going to bed. Loudly and for quite some time.)

Until recently this wasn't a problem; if Magic Boy went to bed late, he'd just sleep later in the morning (which I don't mind, as I am really a night owl). Lately, though, he has decided that he needs to be up when Daddy goes to work- at 5:45. Then, he's cranky all day and still doesn't want to go to bed at night. (Why should he? He was up late last night? Why can't he stay up late again?) (This is basically what happens on weekends we have Big Sister, too. They get really excited to see each other and stay up way past bedtime.)

The real problem, I think, is that I feel guilty denying them time together. He is heartbroken enough when she leaves; how can I not let them see each other as much as possible? I feel like a terrible person for even complaining about this, but the constant whining and sense of chaos that results when Magic Boy doesn't get enough sleep is really taking its toll on me- and him.

Second, Big Sister is having problems in school. She's not paying attention, talking when she's not supposed to and just generally not putting in the effort. Apparently third grade is when kids are expected to really start taking responsibility for their own schoolwork and she's not doing it. If she lived here, I would be meeting with the teacher and working with Big Sister as much as possible to fix this; as it is we've asked the teacher to keep us informed and let us know what we can do to help, but I feel like it's not enough. Actually, I know it's not enough. Hubby helps her with her homework during visitation and we do extra work on weekends, but she needs more. I just don't know how to give it. In addition to the fact that she lives so far away, there's also her mother. She and I (and, to their immense credit, my parents) get along fine. We're friendly when we need to be, at soccer games and holidays and such (and she has been nothing but nice to Magic Boy and Happy Girl), but a lot of our values are different. In the past I've gritted my teeth and put up with it, for everyone's sake, because I knew there was nothing I could do. It hasn't been easy, but I've been able to let it go. This, in addition to some other things that have happened with her lately, seems to be too much for me to keep my mouth shut. On the other hand, should I say something and risk the relationship we have? I honestly doubt anything I say will change her approach to this situation, and if I stir up trouble, won't that just make it worse for Big Sister? I really don't know what's the best thing to do here, and neither does Hubby (although, he's usually a proponent of the "Keep Quiet" response). It's really bothering me that Big Sister is missing so much education because she doesn't seem to care enough to pay attention... but I don't see how we can change that in four days a month. In the past, she had problems with reading and math (again, due to lack of effort) and we tried to emphasize those things when she was here, but it never really worked. Yes, she'd practice sight words or addition- and we'd give her plenty of interesting, challenging (but not overly so) books to read, but in the end she'd go home all the work we'd done would be forgotten. Plus, who wants to go to their Dad's house and do schoolwork all weekend, even if it's a game? I don't want her to think we're tyrants... I'm so frustrated!
(I just reread that part, and I don't mean to give the impression that we're not willing to work with her- we are, I just don't know the best way to go about it.)

Third, my house cannot stay clean. I know this problem is hardly unique to me, but it really makes me feel better to hear there are other people out there who can spend hours straightening up one room, only to have it destroyed ten minutes later. So, if you could, let me know you're out there, okay?

I think that's about it right now. The lack of schedule for Magic Boy, the lack of interest in school for Big Sister and the lack of cleanliness in my house. There was a brief foray into potty training, but that's actually kind of funny (at least, it's probably funny if you didn't live through it), so I'll make that a post in itself. Plus, I've already written quite a bit and it's getting late... and we all know the boy will be waking me up soon enough!

Thanks for listening.

what to say about the big event?

2008-11-10T22:36:00.012-05:00

There were visitors,

handknits,

Baby Mittens, made by me during the Ravelympics

Saartje's Booties, made by Jen

Baby Surprise Snowsuit, made by me and nearly completed in time (stupid snaps).

Also, alpaca hat, made by me.

and of course pain. Lots of pain.

But would I do it all again, for my beautiful Happy Girl?

In a heartbeat.

happy birthday!

2008-10-28T19:03:00.004-04:00

"Happy Girl" was born Sunday, October 26, 2008 at 1:32 pm. (The doctor wanted me to be done in time for the 1:00 football games. I'd say we were close enough.) She weighed 9 pounds, 2 1/2 ounces (a bit more than the estimated 7 pounds 7 ounces of five days before), and she is already living up to her name- being quite happy (or at least content) most of the time.

She has been nursing almost constantly, but that's my arm, I swear.

I'll try to give some more details soon, but in the meantime, I'm going to get some rest! I'm so glad to be home- and so grateful for my three wonderful, healthy children!

this week

2008-10-01T00:13:00.003-04:00

I wanted to take a quick minute and let you all know that this week is Banned Books Week. I find it so frustrating that people criticize books they've never read, but to try and ban them is just ridiculous to me. Granted, I realize parents have the right to monitor what their children read (and they should monitor it), but eliminating books from schools or libraries just because you have a personal objection to them seems so medieval. (Okay, I know there's a better word for this, but my pregnant brain cannot come up with it. Ironic, no?) Anyway, I've been steadily working my way through the list of the 100 most frequently banned/challenged books (I feel it's my duty to give the government something to do. Did you know that according to the Patriot Act, they can obtain copies of your library records without your knowledge? Fabulous, isn't it?), and I figured I'd share my information, in case anyone else is annoyed by the Big Brother-like intrusion of our current administration. So, if you feel like celebrating your freedom (and have time), grab a book from that list (or preferably check it out from your local library- just in case they're watching you) and get reading. Might I suggest my favorite book series of all time? It just happens to be first on the list.

a little boy's paradise

2008-09-07T13:30:00.006-04:00

Our town had Touch-A-Truck day today. Kids were allowed to sit in and climb on over 30 trucks (not to mention play with buttons and levers and of course, blow horns). There were all kinds of different vehicles just waiting to be explored- fire trucks (new and old), bulldozers, line trucks, plows, car carriers, tractors, an ambulance, a giant dump truck, even a ride-on lawnmower. Let's just say Magic Baby enjoyed himself a bit.

Hubby's cousins own that last one, and they gave Magic Baby a hat, which makes him look like less of a dork than the sun hat does (although personally, I think it makes him look way too grown up, too).

Then, on the way out, there was a baby snapping turtle just sitting on the path. (Somehow my husband can find animals wherever we go- even if he's not looking for them.)

The turtle was cool, but not nearly as exciting as all the trucks (in Magic Baby's opinion, anyway).

Overall, another great day- and I'm even blogging about it in a timely way! Go me!

these are days

2008-09-04T23:34:00.006-04:00

Not to make anyone who has a job or kids that are in school or any other responsibilities feel bad, but want to hear how Magic Baby and I spent the day?

Running errands? No... (although he did tell me that he wanted to go shopping this morning instead of going "someplace special." If only he'd behave in a yarn store).

Doing housework? Clearly, you're new to this blog.

Sleeping? Only 'til 8:30 (what can I say, the kid rocks sometimes).

Give up? Here's a clue:

That's right, we hit the beach. And don't let the picture fool you (it was actually taken the last time we were there; I forgot the camera today) there was nobody there. (In case you're wondering though, yes I do dress him like that whenever we're in the sun- I have an irrational fear of sunburn.) It was a great day- not too sunny, a nice breeze off the ocean... and if the dern seagulls hadn't stolen our entire plastic bag full of food, right from under our umbrella, while we were swimming and the rude guys behind us just watched the rats and did nothing to help out the fat, extremely pregnant woman all alone with her toddler (I'm guessing on this part, but trust me- they seemed like the type), it would have been an absolutely perfect day. As it was, it was pretty sweet. And oh, did I mention that I was at the beach today? Just checking.

Randomly, as I was telling Magic Baby how we got to go to the beach while everyone else we knew had to work or go to school- I'm nice like that- my aunt and uncle walked up to us. Although I had to amend our discussion ("Apparently, not everyone had to work today..."), it was really nice to see them and Magic Baby had a great time finding shells and rocks with them, getting buried in the sand, making sand castles and splashing in the waves. Only in the smallest state, though, are you pretty much guaranteed to run into at least one person you know every time you leave the house. But I digress- the main point of this post is to say that I had fun at the beach while you were all working. Take that all you paycheck-getters!

made by me

2008-08-29T21:17:00.006-04:00

Being the prompt mother that I am, I took the kids to get their birthday pictures done today. (Yes, their birthdays were six months ago. Why do you ask?) Here are the results.

That's Magic Baby in his Little Star Sweater and Big Sister in her Pirate Sweater (which I finally seamed up- it's only been waiting since March. That's how prompt I am). Personally, I'm very pleased with these pics. I think The Picture People always does a great job capturing the real essence of the kids. Don't you agree?

vacation, have to get away

2008-08-25T21:03:00.009-04:00

So much to blog about, so little time.

A few weeks ago, my family and I took a trip to New Hampshire. I suppose I should qualify that statement by mentioning that my entire family went. Aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents. We were all there. More than 40 of us in 4 condos. Yup, 40. For an entire week. And honestly, it was great. Really.

We took the kids to Storyland, an amusement park geared at little ones. (Only 10 of us went that day- it was a small trip by our standards.)

Magic Baby loved the train ride through the park, which is good since that was practically the only ride pregnant women were allowed on. Yup, that means I spent $24 to ride a train, a mini-Ferris Wheel and a carousel (where I didn't even get to sit on a horse). Not to mention walk approximately 800 miles. Oh, and to see the joy on my kids' faces. That made it all worth it. Totally.

Okay, so he was really cute on the carousel. See the shirt he's wearing, though? It's an official Storyland one. Wanna know why he's wearing it? Come on, I bet you do... It's because he got carsick and puked all over himself on the way there. Of course, I, being the uber-prepared Mommy that I am, had nothing for him to change into except long pants (which my aunt had convinced me to bring). This means that Magic Baby was carried into the park wearing khakis and a Patriots sweatshirt that's at least four sizes too big... and we had to buy him a new shirt when we got inside. It has a train on it, though, and it was less than $10 (which is surprising), so I guess it could have been worse. Still, pulling over on the Kacamagus Highway was the highlight of my day, although riding home in the wonderful smelling car after all that hiking was great, too.

We learned our lesson, though. This is how Big Sister and Magic Baby kept themselves occupied on the three-hour drive home from NH. They covered themselves with pen. It wasn't pretty (or easy to get off), but it was a lot better than dealing with vomit.

About 20 of us also invaded Clark's Trading Post, where we saw the trained bears and I watched everyone else go on the bumper boats and go rock climbing and do other fun things that are not for pregnant people. Magic Baby spent much of the day shaking his fist and yelling "Scat, you old goat!" which is what you say to Wolfman, the old mountain man who chases and tries to board the train. If you've never been, don't ask.

It's a Clark's Trading Post rule that when the train goes through the tunnel (yup, another train ride), you have to cover your ears and yell as loud as you can. Magic Baby enjoyed this, but not as much as Big Sister did.

That's her standing behind me on the train, screaming her lungs out. At least she had the decency to cover my ears.

This fabulous teddy bear is handknit from real bear fur! How cool is that?! (I tried to get a better picture of it, but it's behind glass and the glare was horrid. Plus, people were giving me funny looks. Clearly, they were non-knitters.) There's a lady from Clark's who collects the bears' fur when they shed, spins it and knits it into teddy bears that are then raffled off. (The money goes to a local shelter.) There are only six of these bears in existence. Obviously, I think this is amazing, and I would have spent the whole day looking at the bears (there's a boy one too, but the glare was even worse on that one) but my family insisted we move on. Considering I had just spent all day not doing anything fun, you think they would have indulged me a little, but no.

And we hung out at the pool. A lot.

My husband, dad and some of the teenagers also played this Assassination game we made up. It involves drawing someone's name from a hat and using a water gun, well, to assassinate them. There are lot of other rules, too, but basically they all have to shoot each other as stealthily as possible (other players can't see you do it or it doesn't count). I know it sounds weird, but the game is actually a lot of fun (although you get really paranoid, since anyone could be out to get you... I'm not even going to tell you about what happened when someone had to use the bathroom), but I chose not to play because, honestly, there's not much about me that can be described as "stealthy" right now. (For the record, I won the last time we played.)

New Hampshire Assassins

Overall, my kids loved vacation this year, and while Hubby and I didn't get much rest, it was worth it. Magic Baby's favorite part was waking up to a condo full of people every morning, while Big Sister enjoyed the pool, and while I didn't get much knitting done, I was able to squeeze in a baby mitten (cast on during the Olympics and knit for the Ravelympics) and I got to teach my (also-pregnant) sister-in-law how to knit.

Overall, a great (if exhausting) time. And honestly, I can't wait to do it again... in a year... after we've all had a chance to recover.

play ball... and run like hell

2008-07-23T23:17:00.009-04:00

About a month ago, my husband got a notice from work that in a few weeks his company would be having a barbecue at McCoy Stadium (home of the Boston Red Sox's minor league team, the Pawtucket Red Sox), complete with free tickets to a game. We decided it would be a fun time and penciled it in our planners (um... okay, I wrote it on the calendar. In crayon, 'cause it's all I could find. And I didn't exactly remember to send in the response on time, but that didn't matter because Hubby's work reminded him. The point is, we were all set to go to the game, all right? Geez, stop criticizing and focus here, people). A few days before we were to go see the Sox, it was announced that David Ortiz (a.k.a. Big Papi) would be playing a few games in Pawtucket as part of his rehab for a recent wrist injury. Well, it turns out he would be playing on the night we were there. This was cool for a number of reasons. First, I love the Red Sox. Not that I'm a big sports person, but I'll admit that I'd rather watch a baseball game than a football one (sorry, Amy), and I believe in rooting for the home team, even when they couldn't win a game to save their lives. And, since I grew up five minutes from McCoy, minor league games were a regular summer event for my family, so it's always nice when I get to go back. Also, Big Papi is a legend in these parts. He's an incredible hitter, and he just seems like such a big lovable teddy bear of a guy; he's become one of our favorite players (although I'll admit to being partial to Jonathan Papelbon as well. That guy's just nuts; I love when he dances to the Dropkick Murphys' song on the field after a big win). And of course, there's the fact that Hubby and I rarely get to take Big Sister out without Magic Baby tagging along. (I decided, since the game was at night, and since the game was sold out thanks to Big Papi, that bringing a 2-year-old was a bad idea.) All in all, it seemed like a fun, inexpensive (unless you factor in all the food a pregnant woman must consume during the course of a game) time and we were all excited to go.

Here's a recap of our Big Trip to McCoy.

Here's Big Papi stretching before the game. Our seats were behind the outfield, which affords a great view... if you don't mind looking at baseball players' backsides, and if you don't mind flying objects coming directly at you.

Here's The Man (at his third at bat) hitting a home run. I love being able to say I saw Big Papi hit a home run. It's one of those stories I can't wait to tell my grandchildren. Yeah, I'm like that.

Here's a view of the stadium, right before the spontaneous thunder, lightning and wind started. We tried to stay to watch Big Papi's fourth at bat, but something about standing on the metal bleachers right under the lights while lightning struck nearby didn't seem like a safe idea to me. So we left, and (of course), just as we exited the stadium, the sky opened up. Torrential rain. Lightning and thunder simultaneously (not a good sign). And the group of us running down the street, dragging our screaming eight-year-old, looking for my dad's car, because parking had been so bad we decided just to have him drop us off and pick us up, which would have been a great idea, had not the heavens decided to surprise everyone with a sudden storm. Quite a picture, no?

Once we were safely out and had collected the boy (and dried off), I started thinking about the game, though, and realized a few things. While it's true that metal bleachers and a pregnant woman are not the best combination, and while the wonderfully unhealthy stadium food was, well, unhealthy, and while the storm was unexpected, a nuisance, and a little scary... overall it made for a great night. Good memories were made, and good times were had by all, and really, isn't that the point? So I guess, while it wasn't exactly a perfect night (did I mention it was way too hot to knit?), it was pretty darn close. And I'm glad to have gotten a chance to be there. Lightning and all.

let there be knitting

2008-07-14T23:06:00.012-04:00

Recently, MadMad published a post on her blog in which she admitted to sometimes possibly not being a perfect knitter. Now, I'm not one to judge, but honestly, I can't figure out where she's coming from. Take my knitting, for instance. Early on in this pregnancy, I took a hiatus from all things woolen, as I was too tired to even contemplate picking up the needles. More recently, though, I've had a bit more energy and have of course devoted that to housework. No, I'm just kidding. I devoted the extra energy to knitting, of course! Care to see what I've been up to?

First, I made the Baby Cargo Pants from Knitty, and while I did not take the time to check my gauge, I think they came out okay (if a little smaller than I would have liked, but that's my own fault for tempting the knitting goddess, right?).

(I apologize for the darkness of all the pictures in this post. I really have to start taking my knitting pics during the day.)

Project Specs-
Pattern: Baby Cargo Pants from Knitty
Yarn: Di.Ve' Zenith (an incredibly soft, squishy merino that I absolutely love and which happens to be on sale at Webs right now!
Started: June 3, 2008
Finished: June 18, 2008
Comments: The pattern calls for cargo pockets to be added, but I decided to wait until the baby's born. If it's a boy, I'll add pockets, if it's a girl, I'll probably embroider little flowers or something. Also, the original pattern calls for elastic to be added to the waistband, but I used ribbon instead.
I love this pattern because it's the first time I got to make a hem. If you haven't tried this, I highly recommend it. It is way cool.
Next up, a winter bunting-thingey for the new baby. I knew going in to this that there were quite a few problems with this pattern, including some with gauge, so I actually knit a gauge swatch, followed the errata listed on Ravelry and proceeded to knit. I even knit both legs at once, because surely the knitting goddess, who smiled favorably upon my last project even though I so blatantly disregarded any notion of gauge, would be benevolent once more, since I had actually knit a gauge swatch this time.

Of course, you know what happened.

I got almost halfway done with the front when I finally faced the fact that the dern thing was a bit too small. Just a little, mind you, as this picture shows.
'Cause newborns generally have 4 1/2 inch legs, right?

Yep, that one got frogged. I swear I'll try again, though. I mean, the kid has to wear something in the cold. Plus I really like the yarn, the legendary Cascade 220 (which I bought at Webs during their awesome, spectacular spring sale, the same day I saw the Yarn Harlot and got to meet a bunch of bloggy friends in person).

While I gathered my courage to figure out what the hell went wrong with the baby bunting (I mean I had a gauge swatch, people!) I decided to start Magic Baby's winter jacket, since he so rudely outgrew the last one I made for him.

I'm using Cascade Ecological Wool and Zoe Mellor's Robin Hood pattern. The yarn (which I also purchased on that wonderful trip to Webs) is much softer than I originally thought, which is good. It was also a really great price (ah, Webs, how I love thee) and since it's 100% wool, should definitely be warm enough for the boy. The pattern itself is all cabley (interesting without being too confusing for a pregnant woman to follow) and I really really like it. (My original plan was to knit myself a Central Park Hoodie so we'd sort of match but not too much- that would be creepy. I think I'll wait 'til next year, though, as I am roughly the size of a small country at the moment and refuse to knit anything for myself using my current proportions.)

The back knit up nicely.

As did the front left panel, and most of the front right (which is where I am at the mo').

I am now at the point where I'm almost out of yarn. See, when I originally bought it at Webs, I got enough to make the jacket if I used one strand of the yarn at a time, but when I knit the gauge swatch (there I go again, being all proper in my knitting) I found out that I actually had to use two strands held together. Now, most of you in a similar circumstance may have come to the conclusion that you needed to order more yarn before you were this far into the project, but I was in denial for a bit. Now, though, I'm almost done with the right front side and have maybe half a ball left. I'm guessing that's not enough to make two sleeves and a hood, so I'm going to go ahead and order that extra yarn now. Yep, I'm nothing if not proactive.

While I'm waiting for the order to come in, let me clue you in on some "design elements" I inadvertently added to the pattern.

Notice anything?

See how the left-side button band is ribbed and the right is moss stitch? Well in the original pattern, they were supposed to match. Where's the fun in that, though? Instead, I figured I'd misread the pattern entirely get a little funky with it and hope to god the ribbing doesn't stretch too much because there's no way I'm dropping and reknitting all those stitches.

Also, I decided that instead of casting off the shoulders and sewing them together later, I'd just use the three-needle bind off. I'm really proud of how that worked.

Did you know you're supposed to work the three-needle bind off on the wrong side of the knitting? Yeah, that'll need to be fixed, although it did make a very straight line of stitches.

In conclusion, I'd like to tell my dear friend MadMad that she should hang in there with her knitting and not consider herself a failure just because she made one sweater that looks like a cat hacked furballs all over it. I mean, with enough time and patience, she too could be knitting up such wonders as The Baby Bunting of Tom Thumb and The Mismatched Winter Jacket With The Painfully Obvious Seam. I'm living proof that any knitter can be a good knitter. All it takes is a little practice.

Seriously, are those for the same kid?!

the sound of siblings

2008-06-25T11:20:00.002-04:00

Me: Hey guys, I'm just going to use the bathroom for a minute, so if you could be nice to each other, that would be great.

Big Sister: Eeeewwww! Gross! The baby pooped! Mooooommmmm!!! You need to change his diaper!!!

Magic Baby: Her put on puppet! Moooommmmmyyyy! Her put on puppet!! Mommy! MOMMY!!!!

BS: No, Magic Baby, the puppet doesn't like you. You won't go on the potty.

MB: No!!! No potty!! NO POTTY!!!!

Me: No kidding.

How I love summer.

haiku

2008-06-16T12:07:00.003-04:00

Magic Baby is currently obsessed with the song Baby Beluga by Raffi. We read the book all day, we listen to the cd in the car, and we even listen to it while he sleeps. Just. That. Song. To impress upon you exactly how that makes me feel, I composed a haiku (at 2 a.m., while listening to the song for the bah-zillionth time that day) which I would like to share.

Ahab Was Right

One song, repeated

Through the monitor all night.

I must spear that whale.

sorry, wrong number

2008-06-03T14:26:00.002-04:00

Apparently someone posted a request for a housecleaning service on some website and (inadvertently?) gave our home number instead of theirs. What this means is that I've been getting really tempting calls from housekeepers all morning. Then I started wondering: You don't think someone I know put my number out there as a hint, do you? 'Cause I know my house has been (far) less than immaculate lately (okay, always), but there's no way I can afford a housekeeper. Not that I haven't been fantasizing all day about all the cleaning I'd have him do (to avoid being sexist, I've decided my dream housekeeper is a guy... who happens to look like Johnny Depp), but honestly I'm too pregnant, busy, tired and yes, lazy to spend any more time on housework than I already do. And do you know why? Because the dern house is just going to get dirty again anyway.

And there you have my housekeeping philosophy, folks. Feel free to adopt it as your own.

... is this thing on?

2008-05-29T23:11:00.006-04:00

Oh, hello there! Yes, I know it's been awhile (holy crap, has it really been over a month?!) since I've talked to you, and I'm sorry if you were worried... it's just that things have been a bit hectic here. See, I'm 16 weeks pregnant, right? And I've got this 2-year-old cyclone, er son, right? And after spending all day playing cars and finding bugs and changing diapers and keeping the little guy from breaking another bone ("Magic Baby, the arm of the chair is not a horsie.") and cleaning the house and washing and folding laundry and loading and unloading the dishwasher I have been so tired, I just haven't had the energy to keep up my end of the relationship, and I'm sorry.

What's that? I haven't been keeping up on the housework either? Well... nobody's perfect.

Anyway, I realize I haven't been paying enough attention to you, and for that I apologize. I'm hoping, now that I'm out of the first trimester, to have more time and energy to devote to our relationship (and possibly to the housework as well. Possibly.). I really miss the time we spent together, hearing about your life and telling you about mine. I'd like to get back to that, if we could. I promise to try and be more faithful about reading your blogs, posting comments and responding when you comment on my posts- which I swear will be more frequent. Provided this baby cooperates... and Magic Baby does too... and Hubby stops hogging the computer...

****************************

In other news, tomorrow my family and I will be walking in the Relay for Life, which means it's your last chance to donate to the American Cancer Society via this link and enter yourself in my contest. Jen swears the yarn is nearly all spun, so hopefully I'll be announcing the winner (and mailing the goods) next week. Here's a peek at the yarn you could win. It's a hand-dyed and hand-spun two ply yarn made of Shetland wool. One ply (the spun one shown here) is a semi-solid purple.

The other (which is spun, although I only have pictures of it pre-spinning) is more of a pinkish-purple.

The two colors look gorgeous together, and the yarn is really soft and springy!

I wish I could keep it, but I made a promise and as I am a woman of my word, I will make the sacrifice and part with this fabulous yarn, but only if you donate! Come on, people. It's a good cause and it really doesn't matter how much money you give. Everyone who donates is eligible to win, and every little bit helps. We're knitters, you know, and as the Yarn Harlot says (although I'm paraphrasing), we of all people know that a small action repeated over and over can make something great.

Thank you so much to everyone who has donated, and thanks to Jen for spinning the wool (and whose pictures I totally swiped for this post).

something's rotten in the state of rhode island

2008-04-24T20:41:00.004-04:00

The other night, I was enjoying my sleep (after tossing and turning for hours) when my husband's alarm went off. I woke up, smacked him (as I do every morning), and rolled over to look at the clock.

4:30. Apparently Hubby had not reset his alarm after going in early the previous day. I told him this (in what I assure you were loving, dulcet tones) and he fixed the alarm and immediately (being the non-pregnant one he is) fell back to sleep.

I, on the other hand, was wide awake.

And I realized right away that The Smell was still there. Now, I had noticed The Smell the previous day, and while it wasn't necessarily a bad smell (it was sort of a red pepper hummus thing), it was precisely the worst possible smell to my pregnant stomach at that time.

I rolled over and tried to fall asleep, but it was no good. The Smell was there and it was haunting me, gagging me. There was clearly no way I'd find peace while The Smell lingered.

I heaved myself out of the bed and opened the window. Immediately, I was surrounded by the sounds of birds. Lots and lots of birds. It was like I was living on a bird sanctuary or in the rain forest, or... well somewhere with a lot of birds instead of my suburban residential neighborhood. I tried getting back in bed, but now I had The Smell of the Mystery Hummus AND the call of 5 million birds. At 4:45 in the morning. I, being the peace-loving, hippie pacifist that I am, lay awake wondering where all the hunters were when you actually need them, and trying to figure out what in the name of god that awful smell could be.

Finally, when I could take no more, I got back out of bed and shut the window. (At least I could do something about that part of the problem.) Without the fresh air, of course, The Smell got worse.

At this point, I was more annoyed than anything. I mean, I was lying there, tormented by a horrid odor, and all Hubby could do was sleep? Hello?! I'm pregnant with your child, man. The least you can do is help me out a bit!

As I lay there, frustrated and angry, tormented by The Smell, unable to open the windows, the perfect solution came to me.

I got up, walked to the bathroom closet, got a bar of Irish Spring soap and climbed back into bed, where I propped the soap up under my nose and (while I didn't actually fall back asleep) blissfully ignored The Smell that had been haunting me.

The Smell that has been there for three days now [even though I cleaned out the fridge (twice), emptied and scrubbed the sink and took out the trash].

The Smell that is still turning my stomach as I type.

The Smell that no one else can smell.

Can pregnancy actually drive you insane?

begin again

2008-04-20T11:19:00.003-04:00

Friends of ours are moving in to their new house this weekend and we offered to watch their two little girls (ages 2 and 10 months). Yesterday the older ones played outside for five hours while the little one slept and today Magic Baby woke up telling us how "cool" and "cute" the baby is. Then, when they came over, he picked up his guitar and ran around the house playing it and singing songs about the baby. He's also been kissing her and playing with her constantly and whenever she cries he's right there to soothe her. I'm taking this as a good sign, since we weren't sure how he would be with a little one, and he's only got about six months to get ready for our new arrival.

Oh, had I forgotten to mention that? Yes, I'm pregnant. About ten or eleven weeks, actually (which puts me about two weeks behind Amy) and which makes me due sometime in early November. Had anyone figured it out? I'd dropped some little hints along the way, mostly that I was sick for over two months (and still am. Yay morning sickness). Let me tell you how hard it was not to say anything earlier, but I'm a little paranoid so I decided to wait. We had to tell my family almost right away, though, since I have been incredibly nauseous and exhausted. We're all very excited (although my mom's response of "I'm not old enough to have three grandchildren!" was kind of funny) and can't wait for the arrival of our new little one. As far as gender goes, we probably won't find out ahead of time. Hubby and I like to be surprised, and while this makes knitting things a bit more difficult, I think I can handle sticking with neutral colors and patterns for awhile. (Not that I've done any knitting in the last two months. I have been way too tired, but I'm really hoping that goes away soon.) In fact, the only reason we might even consider finding out if this baby is a he or she is to help with names. See, we have a girl's name picked out (although it's a secret. Sorry, Jen.) but so far we haven't had any luck with one for a boy. This is sort of the reverse of what happened when we had Magic Baby. Then we had a boy's name all picked out but nothing really for a girl. Fortunately, he's a boy so it wasn't really an issue. I'm kind of hoping the same is true for this one, although I realize that's a pretty stupid reason for wanting to have a girl- we already have a name. Honestly, other than that reason, neither of us really has a preference. Big Sister switches; some days she wants it to be a girl, others she hopes it's a boy. Magic Baby has no clue yet really. He thinks we're going to get to keep the baby we've been watching these last couple of days. He also thinks the baby is in his stomach, which I guess is okay if he wants to be on Oprah someday.
Well, now you all know my secret and the reason I haven't been blogging as much lately. I really haven't felt up to it. Most days end with me passing out right after Magic Baby either from exhaustion or nausea or a killer headache. Like I said, though, I really hope I'm over this phase soon and that I can get back to my regular program of knitting and blogging until the wee hours of the morning. Ahhhh, the good old days!

genetically speaking, take two

2008-04-09T20:30:00.006-04:00

My wonderful husband has been taking Magic Baby for walks around the neighborhood, now that the weather here isn't as ridiculously cold as it had been. Yesterday, they asked me if I wanted to go and I agreed, figuring that I could at least get some cute pictures out of the deal. And I did. At first.

Here's Magic Baby pulling his wagon along.

Here's Magic Baby and his Daddy playing Pooh Sticks in a nearby stream.

Here's my boy and his mud-covered fireman boots. Doesn't he look thrilled?

Then my husband decided to do what he does when we go for walks in the woods, which is look for bugs. Disgusting, slimy, creepy crawlies. Sounds like fun, doesn't it? Well, since I had my camera I took some pictures and figured I'd share them with all of you. No, no; no need to thank me. It's the least I could do.

Here are some nasty little bugs that roll into balls when you touch them. Not that I know from experience; my husband told me and I took his word for it.

Here's a teeny little worm that really wouldn't be too bad except that

Magic Baby actually touched it. Gross, I know.

These things (the little yellow blobs)

are ants. Millions of tiny ants just waiting for an opportunity to crawl all over unsuspecting hikers.

Here we have some salamanders, in their natural habitat

and being held by Hubby, who has no problem touching these nasty things. The freak.

Oh and this one?

This is a picture of some more of those rolly bugs and that shiny thing? That would be a slug. A big, fat, slimy slug.

Magic Baby's verdict on the whole thing: He was reluctant to hold the things we uncovered (although he did try holding a few of the slower-moving salamanders for a few seconds), but he had no problem touching them if someone else held them. He did not want to leave, and he spent most of today begging for Daddy to come home from work and take him to see more "eeewwwws" which he now tells me are "cute". I guess it really is in the genes.

Also, I've decided that maybe I won't come back as a man in my next life after all.

On the plus side, at least I had some pretty things waiting for me when I got home:

Our tulips are coming up (finally) and...

my Pay It Forward gift from Amy had arrived! That's right, I am the proud owner of an Amy Hood original book! With grid paper inside for knitting patterns! And in my favorite color, no less! And best of all- it matches my blog! A big 'Thanks you' to Amy for her excellent work! (Can you tell I'm a little excited about it?)

And now, I'm off. There's knitting and laundry and cleaning to be done. Plus, I haven't finished disinfecting Magic Baby's little fingers. I can't believe he actually touched those things.

thanks, hon

2008-04-07T21:29:00.009-04:00

As I have been a bit under the weather lately, my wonderful husband has been picking up the slack around the house. Before I say anything else, I'd like to make it clear that I really do appreciate all his hard work. Really. That said, though, there are a few things about his housekeeping that I'd like to mention. Let me know if I'm alone in this, or if this is some kind of deficiency all men have.

1. The other day he said (and this is a direct quote): "The laundry is all caught up." I was shocked, because honestly I think the laundry was all caught up once in the entire time I've been doing laundry, and I called everyone I knew to gloat about it. (I really did. You can ask Jen, I was all "Hey, how's your laundry going? Not bad? Still in the rinse cycle? Then you still have a load of whites to do? Awww... poor thing. Mine's all done. Yep, nothin' in my hampers." I'm a good friend like that.) So the fact that my husband, who had only taken the laundry over a few days previously, was able to fight through the gigantic piles of dirty clothes and get them all washed, dried and folded- without being snarky about it- amazed me. I was in awe of his housekeeping prowess.

Fast forward a few hours, when I actually walked past the laundry room and noticed that not only was the huge pile of laundry still there, it was all still dirty. At first I was taken aback- but he said the laundry was all caught up? Then I thought about it. Maybe 'all caught up' means something different to men? Maybe, to him, 'all caught up' means the five loads that I had washed during the week and had asked him to put in the dryer had actually gotten dried? Or the three baskets that have been waiting to be folded for months now are actually folded and possibly even put away? In this house, either of those would be a big accomplishment. That must be what he meant, I decided. So, while he didn't accomplish the impossible task of 'catching up on the laundry,' he did quite a bit, and I was still impressed (although to a lesser degree than before).

Fast forward a bit more... when I went in the basement where the dryer is, and I noticed that there are not one, not two, but three (overflowing) baskets of laundry sitting there. Two are not dried. The other is not folded. Also, my keen sense of smell told me these are the same baskets of laundry that had been sitting there all week. Which really made me wonder: If he didn't mean the laundry was all washed, and he didn't mean the laundry was all dried and he didn't mean the laundry was all folded... What the hell did he mean by 'the laundry is all caught up'?! But no, I told myself, I am not going to question him on this. He's been working hard all week, trying to help me out. I am not going to make a big deal about the fact that while he said 'the laundry is all caught up' I have found evidence to the contrary.

Of course, this noble stance of mine lasted all of an hour, at which point I (very sweetly) said, "Hey, honey? Remember when you said 'The laundry is all caught up'? What did you mean by that, exactly? 'Cause when a woman says that, she means all the laundry in the house is done."

My husband looked at me in alarm and said "Oh I didn't mean that!"

"Yeah, I know you didn't, 'cause I saw the dirty laundry and the laundry that's waiting to be dried and the laundry that's waiting to be folded... so I was just wondering what about the laundry was 'all caught up'."

He mumbled for a bit and finally I was able to get out of him that what he meant by 'the laundry is all caught up' is that he had washed a bit of it, and dried some and even folded a basket or two. And now he was done. He looked at the mounds of clothes in various rooms of the house and decided Eh, I've done enough for today. Which would have been fine except that he told me the laundry was All. Caught. Up. Clearly, he had heard the phrase before and figured he'd try it out regardless of the fact that he had no idea what it actually meant. It's like when a three-year-old drops the F-bomb. Or I talk about plumbing. We don't know what we're saying, we just like the way plumbbob sounds! And while I understand my husband's desire to use the phrase 'the laundry is all caught up' he'd better make damn sure that the next time I hear it, he's got bureaus full of folded socks to prove it.

2. Yesterday, I was lying in bed around dinnertime, with a nose like a faucet and an upset stomach. My husband yelled upstairs that he was going to make pasta and chicken cutlets for dinner. "That's fine," I replied thinking As long as he feeds the kid and doesn't mention anything else to me about food I really don't care if they eat Spam for dinner.

Thirty seconds later, my husband yelled, "I thought we had pasta."

"We do." Please don't make me think about food right now.

(Pause while he looks.)

"I don't see it."

"It's there." God, if I have to come down there and find the freakin' pasta, you're the one cleaning up after me!

"I don't see it."

*Groan* "All right-"

"Oh wait, I found some egg noodles. Do you think those are okay?"

Egg noodles? I guess they're fine. I mean I've never had them with pasta sauce and chicken cutlets, but this is the guy who eats anchovies. How bad could egg noodles and pasta sauce be? "Yeah, egg noodles are great."

" 'Kay. Do you want some?"

"NO! Are you sure there's no pasta? I could have sworn there was some-"

"Nope, no pasta. But don't worry. I'll make these."

"Great." Whatever.

Care to guess what I found this morning?

That's two...

That makes four...

Okay that's six. Six boxes of pasta in the very same cupboard my husband swore he checked last night. When I showed him the evidence, he said, "Huh." Then he thought for a minute and said "But those two were behind something."

"Yeah," I said "they were behind the pasta sauce."

"Huh," he said again. Then he shrugged his shoulders and walked away.

In my next life, I'm so coming back as a man.

party time

2008-04-01T20:41:00.009-04:00

I decided, since Magic Baby's birthday is at the end of February and Big Sister's is the beginning of April, we could get away with just having one party for both of them. ('Cause, really, would you want to host two huge parties within a month of each other? I thought not. Hell, would you even want to go to two kids' parties that close together? See, it was a good idea for everyone.)

I did let them each have their own theme, though. Big Sister (for the third year in a row) chose pirates (that Johnny Depp gets us all), and Magic Baby (after careful deliberation) chose fire trucks. Thus our combination Pirates-And-Fire Trucks Birthday Party was born. (Those go together, right?)

There was food,

and games

(a treasure hunt for the pirates)

(and a house 'on fire,' a.k.a. covered in little crepe paper flames, to be sprayed by the firefighters).

There was even the requisite pinata to be smacked around.

No hitting, Magic Baby. Um... except that. That you can hit. No mixed messages here.

I think I might have even seen some sibling love in there.

She's dressed as a dead pirate, with a pink skull tattoo on her face. He's wearing a shirt with a fire truck on it and his firefighter boots, which you can kind of see in the picture of them putting out the fire. BTW, he never takes those boots off.

All in all, everything went great. The kids were all well behaved, the food (from a local Italian restaurant) was delicious, the games were all a huge hit. And I wasn't even too stressed out (mostly because I had given up food and cake duty, and just bought the dern things). I've decided the combination birthday is the way to go, as is the not cooking (really, who was I trying to impress? Everyone knows I'm the worst cook ever... although I did make pretty some cool cakes in the past, if I do say so myself.) And who's even going to notice about the mix-and-match themes? I mean, pirates and firefighters might get together... like if a pirate ship was on fire? Someone would have to put it out, right? Right?

complaints department

2008-03-26T21:54:00.004-04:00

To Mr. E. Bunny,

Let me begin by thanking you for all your years of hard work and dedication to your job. I fondly remember being a child and thoroughly enjoying your holiday (which will not be referenced by name, to protect your anonymity). I mean, what's not to love about a day entirely devoted to candy? That being said, I'd like to offer some constructive criticism regarding your handling of this year's holiday in particular.

First, while recommending we reuse last years um... "candy vessels" was both frugal and environmentally responsible of you, you might have wanted to mention that said vessels were buried in the attic under an entire year's worth of junk- I mean, memories, as this may have caused us to rethink our decision and just spend the five frickin' dollars on new ones. Also, you may have wanted to mention the location of the "candy vessels" prior to 11:30 the night before your holiday; this, as you may have guessed, was the time we realized we would either A) have to get our tired arses in the attic and start digging or B) tell our kids that you did a really good job of hiding the "candy vessels" this year and they would just have to look harder. Fortunately, we chose the latter. Former! Sorry, we chose the former. Of course, because we're good parents. Really. It's just that I get those two confused.

Second, you might have wanted to point out to a tired and ill Mommy that while she did indeed buy candy for the kids earlier in the week, she had not bought any that was actually small enough to fit inside the "candy vessels" which were now dusted off (and in some cases emptied out- ewww) and ready to be filled. This would have saved the children from the (hopefully not permanently scarring) horror of opening their "candy vessels" in the morning and finding... raisins and Goldfish crackers. ('Cause nothin' says fun like dried fruit and stale crackers.) And again, letting us in on that little fact at a time when most stores were open would have been quite considerate of you.

Lastly, I understand why your holiday has so much to do with rebirth- spring, Jesus and all that, but really, whose idea was it to boil dozens of eggs? Because did I mention this Mommy's not in her best form lately, and the smell of all those eggs was great for my stomach. Really.

In conclusion, I'd like to thank you once again for all your hard work. I know it must be difficult to be you. You are expected to work one whole day a year after all. I can see where that would take a lot out of a giant bunny. But, hey, I'm not judging! I'm just saying that in the future a little help would be appreciated. Because really, I'd hate to have to tell a certain someone to put you on his 'Naughty' list.

i'm still here

2008-03-22T08:48:00.010-04:00

Between bouts of illness and boredom, there hasn't been much to blog about (nor have I felt up to it), but as things are starting to look (and feel) better I figured I'd dust off the old keyboard and let y'all know what has been going on with us as of late.

Big Sister chopped her hair off and donated it to Locks of Love. We're all proud that she decided to share something as personal as her hair with a complete stranger; it really is a great organization. Plus, she looks super-cute, no?

Here she is modeling the new 'do while holding the hair she donated.

On Thursday, my dad and I took Magic Baby to the orthopedist for a check-up on his broken arm - and they took the cast off! After less than three weeks, he is apparently healed! YAY! Who knew kids' bones were so resilient?

Last weekend, I accompanied my cousin and her friends to Boston where we got very lost.

The yellow line shows where we walked. The purple line shows where we were supposed to walk.

Eventually, though, we found our way to The Colonial Theater where we saw the hilarious musical Avenue Q.

It was hands-down one of the funniest things I have ever seen and I highly recommend it, with the caveat that the show is not for kids or the easily offended. I know, I know, it has puppets, but trust me- this is definitely R-rated stuff. Did I mention it's hilarious, though?

I think that's about it for interesting things lately. We're planning on dyeing Easter eggs some time today, and then tomorrow we're going to brunch at an amazing nearby restaurant with my parents, brother, his wife, and my grandmother. I'm hoping it's a nice, relaxing Easter here, and I wish all of you the same!

knitting (and family) update

2008-03-08T23:19:00.001-05:00

Thanks a ton for all the good wishes you've all sent! Magic Baby is doing fine; he figured out how to climb on the couch with the cast today, he has decided it's cool to drive his Hot Wheels cars on the cast, and he told me the day after he got said cast that he likes the noise it makes when he hits it against the wall.

So, um, things are pretty much back to normal here. Except that Hubby and are have become slightly paranoid. Before this, it never bothered either of us that Magic Baby had a tendency to fall a lot, but now every time he stumbles our hearts are in our throats. I think this is why I've been so tired all week. The constant worry is getting to me, and I've tried to let some of it go, but it's really hard to do that with the lovely cast as a constant reminder. Also, I haven't really left Magic Baby alone at all. Not that I would leave him for long periods of time or anything (although there was that one time I did the marketing while he played in the kitchen. He was fine, though- and let me tell you that kid makes a mean souffle if you give him time). But before I at least felt comfortable using the bathroom or checking my blog while he was occupied in the living room. Now I'm convinced that the second I turn my back he's going to catapult himself off the furniture again. (My question is: Am I too paranoid now, or was I too lax then?) What this means is I've put him in his crib every time I've had too pee. Also, in case you haven't noticed, I've let my blogging slip. Every night I promised myself I'd get to the comments you all so nicely posted, and then every night Magic Baby would fight about falling asleep, and I'd pass out right after he did- around 10 or so. Basically, this is my long-winded way of apologizing for neglecting you all, again. I really appreciate all the great stuff you've said, though, and I'm going to try really hard to respond more quickly this time. As long as Hubby's home. Or the boy's in that bubble I ordered for him.

And now, on to happy things!

Before the whole broken arm fiasco, I was actually pretty productive in my knitting. Want to see?

Pattern - Liam Sweater by Just Jussi

Yarn - Lily Sugar'n Cream Cotton Solid in green (about 3 skeins)

Needles - US 6

Size made - 2 Toddler

Started - February 10th-ish, 2008

Finished (and by finished I mean still needs buttons and eyes for the sheep) - March 7th, 2008

Made for - the Testing Pool Group on Ravelry

I love this pattern. It was really easy, but if you're not a fan of garter stitch consider yourself warned: There's a ton of it here, but as the finished project is so darn cute, it's totally worth it! And it has sheep!

Cute (not-yet-sewn-on) buttons, no?

Those sheep are kind of creepy without their eyes, aren't they?

Pattern - Felted Guitar Strap

Yarn - Paton's Merino in black and red (about 1/2 - 3/4 skein each)
Needles - US 13
Size made - fwicked long
Started - February 22, 2008
Finished - February 25, 2008
Made for - Magic Baby

This was the first time I ever knit on a bias, and it was pretty cool. This pattern was also ridiculously easy and fast to knit, which may be why it ended up being much longer than it needs to. I would recommend actually having the guitar in hand before knitting this, as it is supposed to attach to the instrument by knobby things Magic Baby's guitar does not actually have. This means I have to figure out how to attach it. Then again, as Magic Baby is one-handed at the moment, he's not exactly going to be playing concerts anytime soon.

Pre-felting

Knitting on a bias = cool diagonals

Post-felting and still ridiculously long

Pattern - Pirate Sweater by Zoe Mellor

Yarn - Baruffa Merinos Sei in black (about 4 skeins), Baruffa Merinos Sei in white (about 2 1/2 skeins), Filatura Di Crosa Zara in red (about 2 1/2 skeins)
Needles - US 7
Size made - 8 Child
Started - January 2008
Finished - (and by finished I mean still needs to be put together) March 6, 2008
Made for - Big Sister

I've also done some knitting since 'the incident' because while it's true you can't wrap kids in wool to protect them from getting hurt, you sure can wrap their hurts in wool to show your love.

Pattern - K2P2 Rib Cast Warmer (made up as I went along; stripes added as I got bored)

Yarn - Baruffa Merinos Sei in black, Filatura Di Crosa Zara in red (leftover from Pirate Sweater)Needles - US 7
Started - March 3, 2008
Finished - March 5, 2008
Made for - Magic Baby

I treated this with Lanolin to make it water-resistant (like they do with cloth diaper covers). I hope it works, but at least it will keep the cast clean, remind Magic Baby that I love him and look cute.

Okay. That's it for actual knitting, but in all the recent madness (illness, vacation, injury), I forgot to mention something cool. The new Yarnival came out a few weeks ago and my sock post was in it! Yay! I'm so excited! (And thanks for suggesting I submit it, MadMad!)

*Sigh* I think that's everything. I know this is a really long post, but that's what I get for neglecting my blogging duties for so long. I promise I'll try to be better from now on. Really. (Hey, did anyone catch that I said "duties"?)

he is the consummate boy

2008-03-03T20:23:00.015-05:00

From the "Nobody Saw That Coming" Department:

Yesterday, Magic Baby tried to stand up on the recliner in our living room. For what I swear was the 743, 301st time, I told him to sit down. Instead, he fell. Off the chair and onto the floor. The hardwood floor. Care to guess what happens when bone meets wood?

Apparently, he's not magical enough to fly.

That's right, bone loses (in this case the bone above the right elbow lost). This means we spent almost 9 hours yesterday getting him all patched up. During that time, we visited two hospitals, he got three sets of x-rays (which he hated), one i.v. (which he really hated), and was sedated for about half an hour so they could set the bone and put his cast on. Fortunately, he didn't require pins in the arm (which would have meant surgery).

Anyway, he's doing better now. He's home, and up and about (still getting used to his new center of balance) and seems in good spirits (although we're all still pretty tired from the whole ordeal). He actually doesn't seem to mind the cast, which is good because it has to stay on for 4-6 weeks. Thursday we're going to a pediatric orthopedist who will take more x-rays and make sure the bones haven't shifted (in which case he'll need pins after all). I have to say he was great about everything yesterday, though, especially considering he sat around for over six hours with a broken arm and only one dose of pain medication. I held him on my lap all day and we read books and sang songs and played goofy games with a toy rabbit my dad bought from the gift shop. He didn't mind the doctors and nurses, and really didn't even cry much. (The baby, not my dad.) He was a model patient, if I do say so myself.

Let me tell you though, nothing makes you feel worse than holding an injured baby all day knowing you were the one who could have stopped it. No blaming this one on Hubby, it was all me. And I know I can't be there all the time, but seeing him hurt still made me feel like a terrible mom. Who knows, though. Maybe some good will come out of this. Maybe he'll learn not to climb the furniture.

Although knowing him, I highly doubt it. He is two, after all.

yay, lists!

2008-02-27T23:15:00.003-05:00

I apologize for my recent slacking in the blogging department (not commenting on your posts, not replying to your comments on mine, not posting in general), but things have been a little crazy around here. How so? you wonder. Let me enlighten you.

1. Last week was school vacation, and I volunteered to take not only my own two kids, but also Jen's three to a teeny-tiny hotel room an hour and a half away from home, where Jen would meet us and we'd all spend a relaxing three days frolicking in the pool and visiting some quiet not-crowded local kid-friendly spots. (No, no, it's okay... I'll wait while you laugh. It's cool; I'd laugh too, if it hadn't happened to me. And please don't ask, I haven't been able to figure out what in God's name I was thinking.) Care to guess how it went? In my defense, I'd like to say that things probably would have gone better had Magic Baby not chosen that day to come down with a temperature of a million degrees. See, 'cause if he had not been all warm and clingy and miserable, one of us would actually have been able to get the kids out of the shoebox we were calling a room and take them swimming. As it was, I was too busy trying to keep him comfortable and figure out why the hell he was breathing so fast to be of much help to the other kids. So, um, yeah... great vacation. We're going to be doing that again real soon.

2. Magic Baby decided to bring the uber-high fever home with him, you know as a souvenir. He was mopey and medicated and not sleeping well from Wednesday until Tuesday at which point he recovered, realized he had missed almost a week of causing mayhem and promptly went to work making up for lost time. Which means that not only am I exhausted, but also that I'm expected to be back on "Toddler Patrol." You are all so jealous of me right now, aren't you!

3. In the 'good' department, my family and I went to see Jesus Christ Superstar last night. WITH the original Jesus!! (Okay, not the original Jesus, but the one from the movie and stuff.) For most people that might not be a huge deal, but for some reason JCS has reached cult status in my family. My brother, cousins and I all grew up listening to it and are now able to not only sing every single word from every single song, but also to do so loudly. And off-key. We've all (except for Kathryn, our JCS newbie) seen the show at least once before (not to mention watched the movie a million times), but we were all still super excited. Because it's Jesus Christ Superstar! And it was with the original Jesus! (Well, not the origi... oh, you know.) Seriously, I don't know if I can express how into this show we are. You know how some people are with The Rocky Horror Picture Show? That's us with JCS, only we start young. (As an aside, this has led to some very interesting religion-related stories. Like the time in church on Easter when the priest asked what happened at the Last Supper and my brother raised his hand. My parents looked on proudly as the priest called my five-year-old brother's name and asked him to tell the entire congregation. Heck, my parents probably even elbowed their neighbors, mouthing "That's my boy!" as my brother proclaimed "The Apostles got drunk!" Sorry, Mom and Dad, but you brought that on yourselves; after all, it's not like we would be listening to JCS at that young an age without someone introducing us to it. Then there was the time I showed the movie to my husband for the first time and he commented that it must have been very progressive and controversial of them to cast a black man as Judas, seeing as it was the '70s and all. I looked at him for a minute and said (in honest disbelief) "... Judas wasn't black?" Again, I blame my parents.) Anyway, we're a bit obsessed with the show so it was a really great night.

4. It was also a night about which I'd like to lodge a complaint. If I am north of my intended location, and I take a highway labeled "South" I should, theoretically at least, eventually reach my destination (or at least pretty close) right? Apparently not. Which is why I didn't get home until about 2 a.m. after the show. Good times.

5. Regardless of this incident, I've decided I'm really glad to live where I do. It's far enough away from a big city that I'm not really living in "a city" while still being close enough that I can go see plays and musicals pretty frequently. I love this, because I am a huge fan of live theater. There's nothing like it, except live dance, which can also be found less than 15 minutes from my house! So, yay for where I live!

What else has kept me away from my blogging friends? Knitting, of course, but as it's late and I'm tired (remember, a sick baby and then out 'til 2 getting lost last night?) you'll just have to wait for my next post to get your woollen curiosity sated. You naughty bloggers, you! (Sorry; did I mention I'm tired?)

i love my son because...

2008-02-25T17:36:00.000-05:00

he loves his big sister,

he's very artistic,

he eats his toast like this,

he is the consummate boy,

he loves to "rock out,"

Yeah, that's him with his "harmonica" and "guitar." What, you couldn't tell?

he's very cute when he's shy,

That is not me singing, I swear. Did you like how we totally sang him "Happy Birthday" just for the blog? I'm dorky like that.

oh, and did I mention it's his birthday?

Happy Second Birthday, Binka!

Love, Mommy

hope... and a contest

2008-02-15T21:31:00.002-05:00

My mom's health has always been iffy. That's not to say she's sickly, just that she's always sick. She has always had random-seeming symptoms that end up being diagnosed as really obscure diseases. Wegener's Granulomatosis, chronic Pancreatitis and Osteomyelitis are just a few. (Never heard of 'em? Don't worry, neither had we.) Multiple surgeries and hospital stays have punctuated the last decade or so, and are included in many major life events (most notably, my engagement. I remember my mom being all excited to tell... the nurses, because she was stuck in the hospital. Again.) She's seen specialists from this state, as well as the really big-name doctors in Boston and each has had an opinion. Each has also recommended treatment and most were successful, at least for awhile. Then, just a few months after Magic Baby was born, the reason for all her recent stomach problems (and possibly some of her previous health troubles) was found. She had cancer. Of course, being my mom, she couldn't have a normal cancer. No, she was diagnosed with Gastrointestinal Carcinoid Cancer, a super-rare form symptomized by basically every unpleasant stomach thing you can think of.
I remember well the day she told us she had cancer. She, who shares everything with me, had kept the possible diagnosis secret because she was afraid to upset me. (And considering all that had happened in the previous four months- the birth and subsequent hospitalization of Magic Baby in February, followed by the death of my great-grandmother with whom we were all extremely close less than a month after that- I suppose I understand. I mean, think about how you'd feel if all those things happened to you right after you gave birth and you can imagine how stable I was. She was not about to add the possibility that she had cancer to my list of worries.) That is, until it was confirmed. She. Had. Cancer. As a family we had fought all the other diseases she'd had, and we'd tackled them all head-on, too. But this was different. This was The Big C. I'll admit I was scared. I mean, this was cancer. My brother, father and I accompanied my mom to Boston for her surgery that September, during which the doctors removed the tumors, her gall bladder and part of her intestine, all of which were affected by the cancer. This was the first time in my life that I was really scared for her. She'd had plenty of surgeries and illnesses before, but for some reason this one seemed so much more potent than any of those. Sitting in the waiting room while she was in surgery, my brother and I played games and joked around as usual, but there was something in our eyes that told each other how afraid we were. Little things, like my dad taking longer than usual in the pre-op room with my mom, worried us. We were on pins and needles all day. Then, hours later, the doctor called us all in a little room to tell us the news. I looked at his face, then at my brother's. I saw the same fear mirrored on my brother's face as on mine. The doctor didn't seem to have good news for us. Then, he spoke. He told us things went well. They had been able to get the tumors laparoscopically, which was better than they had hoped. I felt myself let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding, and I heard my father and brother do the same. She was going to be okay. Her recovery was painful and marked by more than a few unpleasant setbacks that I won't get into here, but, less than two years after her diagnosis, my mom's doing great. She's back at work and her stomach problems have cleared up greatly. She's able to play with my kids like a "normal" healthy grandmother, and they adore her.

Her diagnosis (and especially the scare it gave me) really made me think, though. Cancer is such a rampant far-reaching disease. I mean, everyone knows someone who has (or had) cancer. It literally touches us all, and I think that makes it everyone's responsibility to fight it. The year my mom was diagnosed, I organized a bunch of family members into a team and we participated in the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life in honor of my mom. The Relay is an overnight event that raises money for cancer research, education and support. It celebrates survivors and remembers those who have lost their battle with cancer, and it does so in a beautiful, powerful way. Last year, we also participated in Relay- and there were so many of us we had to form two teams! I love Relay; it's my way to show my mom how much she is loved, while helping ensure others won't have to go through what my family and I did. And I know we're some of the lucky ones. I've heard so many tragic stories from people who have lost a loved one to cancer, and I'm sure you have, too. That's why I'm asking you to help me. Help the American Cancer Society. I've put up a link to my ACS/ Relay page for this year and I'd love if you'd check it out and make a donation. If you Relay in your own area, that's even better. As an incentive (in case fighting cancer wasn't enough), I've decided to award a skein of hand-spun, hand-dyed yarn (dyed by me and graciously spun by Jen) to someone who donates to the Relay, either through my link or to a Relay in your area. (If you give money in your area, just email me and I'll include you in the contest. This is on an honor system, but I trust you all.) The yarn will be dyed Relay Purple, and I've named it (appropriately enough, as it is the Relay's motto) "Hope." I'll post pictures of it as soon as we've actually spun and dyed it.

Edited to add: If you're not a knitter and you'd like to donate, please just let me know and I'll come up with some kind of non-knitting prize.

The contest will run until May 28th, 2008, at which time I have to turn in all my donations.

Thank you so much for your help.

memo to the menfolk

2008-02-13T21:22:00.003-05:00

Magic Baby and I were playing in the kitchen this evening, minding our own business, when the magnetic letters on our refrigerator began to rearrange themselves! Immediately I grabbed my camera... (because everything around here makes it on the blog)

Feel free to share this phenomenon with someone you love... it may save him some problems come tomorrow. And may all your love be warm and woollen!

how to induce heart failure

2008-02-11T16:33:00.001-05:00

A Toddlers' Guide To Causing Mayhem

by Magic Baby

Step 1. Move playpen into position.

Step 2. Use playpen to climb on windowseat.

Step 3. Pause. Look back at Mom with expression of complete innocence.

Step 4. Undo safety latches on window.

Step 5. Unlock window.

Step 6. Open window wide; attempt to jump out.
(Fortunately Mom is there to stop you. This time.)

If you can accomplish all this before you are two years old, Congratulations! You will have successfully given your parent/caregiver a heart attack. You may now resume normal play.

Editor's Note: After repeated attempts on the part of Magic Baby to throw caution (and himself) to the wind, Hubby and I smartened up and wedged some PVC pipe in the window. Now it can't be open by anyone. I expect this solution will work for about a week, at which point Magic Baby will undoubtedly figure out how to remove the pipe. Possibly with a chainsaw.

venn vill i learn?

2008-02-05T18:40:00.001-05:00

We here in the lilypotterknits household are all about teachable moments. These are those little, unplanned instances when a child sees or does something that the parents can turn into a learning opportunity. A teachable moment might occur when you and your child are cruising downtown and you see a prostitute on the corner and you take the opportunity to point out to your daughter all the problems inherent with prostitution... especially on a low-traffic corner like that. Or you might be at a bank one day where you witness a robbery and you take the opportunity to tell your son how bank robbery is wrong... mainly because it's so easy to get caught, unlike stealing someone's identity online, which is virtually untraceable. I'm sure you've had a million teachable moments in your life, and my husband and I like to jump on these opportunities when our children present them to us and beat the living crap out of them. (The moment, not the kid. Really.)

Anyway, over the weekend, Big Sister and I were playing her I Spy Board Game, and I noticed that one board was made up of Venn Diagrams. A Venn Diagram, in case you're not familiar, is used to compare and contrast things in a clear, easy-to-understand way. It's made up of two (or more) overlapping circles and each circle represents one of the things you want to compare. Where the circles overlap, you put attributes that the things have in common, and where they don't overlap, you put attributes specific to only one of the things. It sounds more confusing than it really is, so here's an example to make it more clear.

The circle on the left represents the profession "Bank Robber" and that circle says the job comes with the possibilty of getting arrested, you have to wear a creepy mask, you make good money and it's technically illegal. The circle on the right, which represents the career of "Prostitute", says there's the possibility of getting infected, you have to wear creepy makeup, you make good money and it's technically illegal, but since both can make good money and are technically illegal, you only write those things once where the circles overlap. Get it? Okay, enough explanation. Back to the story. Really quick, though, I'd like to point out I did not use this particular example with my daughter. I'm not that into teachable moments. Yet. Really now, back to what I was saying...

I noticed Big Sister's I Spy Game had Venn Diagrams on it, so I showed her the board and told her I thought the circles seemed to organize the toys into groups and maybe we could figure out together what each circle had in common. We worked for awhile, discussing the circles and their objects and I'll admit I was feeling pretty good about capitalizing on this particular teachable moment. After we were done, I explained to her that the circles made up something called a Venn Diagram and that we could do the same with words and would she like to try making one about her and her brother? She was excited to try, and so we did. (Damn, I am good at this.) THEN, I told her you could make Venn Diagrams with more than two circles (Seriously, you are so jealous of my educational prowess.) and we made one of the three Pirates of the Carribbean movies, which are her favorites right now. (Ignore that fact when you're marvelling at how good I am at this mothering thing, but really she needs to know how hot Johnny Depp is. That should totally be a subject in school.) She seemed to have a pretty good grasp of Venn Diagrams at this point, so I decided to proceed to the next step and let her try one on her own while I sat back and basked in my awesomeness. This is what she came up with:

I have no idea why there's a diagram for 1/2 on there, but at least she got it right!

Let me interpret. Her dad apparently farts too much (no argument there), and the kids rule. As for me, the wonderful Mom who had just spent all that quality time with her, teaching her about Venn Diagrams in a true, meaningful way that she surely appreciates? I am "too annoying."

Care to guess how I felt at this point?

On the bright side, at least she'll be able to convey her feelings in a clear, easy-to-understand way when she goes on Oprah to complain about me and my pissy, grumpy, tired, overbearing annoying self.

nothing much

2008-02-01T18:34:00.000-05:00

Well, after all of Sunday's excitement, it seems as though the world has rewarded me with a pretty boring week. I mean, it wasn't a bad week by any means, just not very blog-worthy. (I did see Monty Python's Spamalot last night, which I highly recommend.) Even my knitting is boring: I finished the back of Big Sister's Pirate Sweater a few days ago, but it's really just a lot of black stockinette, not very exciting. I've also been working on the Liam sweater from Ravelry's Testing Pool, but right now that's just thirty or so rows of green garter stitch, also not exciting. Other than that it's been a week of housework and kids. You know, the usual. So in lieu of a long, funny post, how about a short post and some funny pictures?

At least they like fruit!

Magic Baby putting the moves on Jen's daughter. She loves it...

really.

(Don't you think if those two get together that their offspring would be super-cute? I'm referring to the sweaters of course!)

genetically speaking

2008-01-27T21:18:00.001-05:00

My husband is insane. He decided, that since it was freezing today and has been all week, today would be a perfect day to go ice fishing.

Yes, ice fishing.

With the kids.

Even the not-quite-two year old.

You're probably thinking "God, do people actually go ice fishing anymore?" I'd like to assure you they do. They cut holes in the ice and set up little flag-things (called "tilts," because this blog is nothing if not educational). Then they hang out in the freezing cold and wait for some stupid fish to grab their hook, thus setting off the flag. Sometimes they even light fires on the ice (because nothing says safety like adding heat to the ice upon which you are trusting your life). They do this for long periods of time and claim it is great fun. (Don't worry, I'm not buying it either.) But here's the thing about ice fishing that gets me: you can only do it on days that are really really cold. AND, it has to have been cold for awhile before that, to ensure the ice is frozen enough so you can stand on it without falling through. Obviously, this combines two of my favorite features in sports- being out in freezing cold weather and the possibility of plunging to my death in frigid water any second. So, yeah, I was totally into "heading out on the ice". Totally. I did agree to accompany Hubby and Big Sister to check the ice yesterday and make sure it was thick enough. (State law requires 5 inches; I require 6; the pond we checked was 7. See? Educational.) And we brought Magic Baby, mostly because you can't really leave a not-quite-two year old in the car while you hike through the woods. At least not in this state. He wasn't all that interested and did not care for walking on the ice at all, so I figured I was in the clear. I could stay home with Magic Baby and let Hubby and Big Sister pursue their death-wishes. (FYI- Big Sister loves ice fishing and has for years. Clearly, she inherited the insanity gene from her father.) Then this morning, while I was still asleep, Hubby took the kids to the bait shop, where they bought a Bucket-O-Fish to use for bait. (Yes, in ice fishing you purchase fish which you then use to lure other fish onto your hook. No, this is not at all redundant. At least, that's what I'm told.) And Magic Baby saw the Fish That Are Going To Soon Be Impaled On A Hook Then Eaten By Other Fish. And he really really liked them. And he was sad when Hubby and Big Sister took them away. Really really sad. So I (and yeah, this was just stupid of me) decided to take Magic Baby to where the rest of the family was ice fishing. On the ice. In the cold. And the snow (did I mention it was snowing?). Because I thought it would be good for him, or educational, or at least that he would enjoy it. And we bundled up (a lot, as I am a total wuss when it comes to cold) and drove to the place they were and trudged through the woods and I slipped a lot and fell a few times and when we finally reached the ice, Magic Baby looked at me and said

"Home."

And after all that bundling and driving and trudging and falling, we left. Almost immediately, because apparently he is also a wuss when it comes to cold. (Hubby and Big Sister stayed out for another six hours, because they apparently are not.) But, I have no doubt that in a few years he'll be joining his father and sister on the ice, running and sliding and having a great time. For hours and hours with no regard for the cold. After all, it's in his genes.

all alone

2008-01-23T21:34:00.001-05:00

Hubby took Magic Baby with him on his weekly visitation with Big Sister tonight, leaving me all alone. (Tragic, I know.) What do you think I did with my free time? Any guesses? I... (wait for it)... cleaned the house. That's right. No one was home but me and I cleaned the freakin' house. For three hours. (Do me a favor and ignore the fact that my house was dirty enough to necessitate a three hour cleaning. 'K? Thanks.) During this cleaning frenzy, I did a lot of thinking. (Because, really, what else is there to do when you're cleaning?) And I realized a few things.

1. Cleaning sucks. (Pun intended.) There's no other way to look at it. I don't care who you are, neat freak, obsessive-compulsive, whatever. No one actually enjoys cleaning. It's just not possible.
2. You know that lovely saying "A mother's work is never done." Get this, it's true. 'Cos no matter how many freakin' loads of laundry you do, how many times you wash the dishes, how many times you clean the toilet, they're just going to get dirty again. And soon. And that means... you get the joy of cleaning them all over again! I really can't stress how much I hate this aspect of housework. It all seems so futile, don't you think? Some days I really don't even want to bother. Honestly, how did those '50s housewives do it? And in heels and dresses. Hey, maybe that's the secret. Get all dressed up to wash dishes?

Yeah, not working for me either.

3. There is way more to cleaning a house than I thought before I actually owned one. Sure, growing up I did chores and helped out around the house and stuff, but there are things you have to do once the house is actually yours that no one bothers to tell you. These include (but are not limited to):

a. Dusting. I always thought dusting was the easy job Mom gave whichever kid was better behaved that week, or the one you could give to the three-year-old so he felt like he was helping, too, but now that the responsibility of cleaning an entire house is mine, I see that if you don't dust at least once in a while, the place gets really dusty. Go figure.

b. Changing the sheets. Okay, this one I don't even understand. I mean, 90% of the time all you're doing in bed is sleeping. (Okay, 98% of the time. And you can bet that if I told you you'd never have to change the sheets again if you slept the other 2% of the time, there would be even more women with "headaches" than there are already.) How the hell do the sheets get dirty? You're. Just. Sleeping. And yet, the sheets need to be changed regularly. (Personally, I think this is a conspiracy involving the laundry detergent companies, sheet manufactures and neighborhood Peeping Toms who get their kicks watching people struggle with the stupid fitted sheets, but I digress.)
c. Cleaning the windows. I realize I'm saying this as the mother of an almost-two year old who has recently discovered that not only can he climb on the window seat we have, but also that doing so affords him a splendid view of the squirrels in the front yard. (Not to mention that it gives Mommy a heart attack. That's just an added bonus.) Seriously, though, the windows were so smudged we haven't had to close the curtains in weeks, which is probably a good thing since I sewed the curtains myself and they don't really like to be opened and shut a whole lot.

(Hey, did you like my Clever Use of An Outline there? Yep, 18 years of school; don't tell me I'm not putting it to good use.)

And really, this is stuff that has to be done in every house. It's not like I'm a neat freak or anything, just in case the whole 'my house needed to be cleaned for three hours thing' didn't tip you off. If you don't want to look like a slob, you're expected to do these thing. Often. But what can I do? It's either clean it or look like a terrible person. What kind of a choice is that? Although, to be completely honest I have a reputation for looking like a terrible person. A lot.

Anyway, I'm done cleaning now and I'm also done ranting. In the nick of time, too, because Hubby just walked in with the boy. That's okay, though. I have no qualms about knitting while Hubby puts Magic Baby to bed. After all, my housework's done! For now, anyway.

- - - - - - - - -

I'm still looking for some people to agree to take part in the Pay It Forward! Come on people, I know don't have a ton of people who read this blog, but I would feel like a total loser if I couldn't even find three people willing to continue this exchange. (That's right, I'll guilt you if I have to!) So far I have

1. Kathryn

Yeah, that's it. One person. You don't have to knit, you just have to agree to give something handmade to the first three people who respond to your blog post. AND you get something from me. You know you want to...

knitting update

2008-01-23T19:35:00.000-05:00

Since I finished Magic Baby's Little Star Sweater on Christmas Eve, I have felt guilty that I haven't made a sweater for Big Sister yet. (She wants me to make her the Pirate Sweater by Zoe Mellor.) And because of the nagging guilt (which was present the entire time I worked on my Toe-Up Hederas... although I knit those anyway), I have been reluctant to cast on anything else. Like that Swingy Tank I'm going to make out of the yummy CashSilk I bought at Webs. (That one's for me.) And the Central Park Hoodie I'm going to knit out of the Nature Wool I bought at Webs. (That one is also for me.) Yeah, those projects were far too guilt-inducing to even be contemplated in the past month, and all because I needed to get my arse to a lys and buy some nice red merino. Now, usually, my arse would have had no problem getting to a lys, but I promised to go on a yarn diet at the beginning of the year and had already broken that resolution. With a trip to Webs. (The second in two weeks, during which I purchased an entire sweaters-worth of yarn. For, um, me.) Needless to say, I was a bit hesitant about entering another yarn store where I would probably be overcome by fumes yet again and lose complete track of my spending. And then my husband did something amazing. He volunteered to take me to a yarn store. You know, just to look. (Clearly, the man has never been yarn shopping.) And so we went this weekend to Fresh Purls in Providence (which is, coincidentally right down the street from my favorite vegetarian restaurant, Garden Grille) and I got some red merino. When I got home (and during a certain football game), I started on the back of the sweater.

At first, I wasn't sure about the red. I was trying to find a bright red and the only thing Fresh Purls had in the right weight was more of a wine-red, but now that I've seen it with the black, I like it a lot. Unfortunately, the back of the sweater is just plain stockinette stitch. 120 rows of plain stockinette stitch. And I was getting bored (after the game, of course). So, I took a break and checked out Ravelry, where I stumbled upon a group called The Testing Pool. The way this group works is, people who have designed their own patterns post messages on the group, asking if anyone wants to try out a new pattern they've made, and any Raveler can agree to try it. While you knit the pattern, you make notes on any discrepancies or errors you find and you let the designer know. (You also take lots of pictures, but as this has become a natural step in the knitting progress for those of us with blogs, it's not really a big deal to me. ) Out of sheer desperation at knitting 9600 stitches in stockinette, I joined the group and volunteered to try out two projects. One is this really cute baby sweater (called Liam) which I haven't started yet but plan to in the next few days. The other is this

It's a teeny-tiny Mushroom from the Mario video games and it is super cute. It's also really small, which you might be able to tell from the picture. (Especially if I tell you I don't have ginormous hands. Which is true, even though the picture seems to show otherwise.) It's knit on size 0 needles with fingering-ish weight yarn (I don't know what kind of yarn it is. The pattern designer sent it to me.) and I'm having a lot of fun knitting it. I've decided I like the Testing Pool group for a few reasons. First, I think it's cool to try out patterns for other people. They're trying to market the patterns somehow, and they need someone to make sure the pattern actually works and I feel somehow useful being that person. Second, I get to pick which patterns I want to knit, so I can just choose to knit ones I like and would probably knit up anyway (like the Liam sweater) or ones that are quick (like the Mario Mushroom). That way, I get to knit what I want while at the same time helping someone else. It's a win-win situation! The only problem I've encountered is what to do with a pattern I like and agree to knit but have no one to give it to (like the Liam sweater which won't be big enough for Magic Baby). I could hold on to it and wait until someone I know has a use for it, or I could donate it. I haven't decided, but I guess that's okay since I haven't started yet, either! Oh and there's also the guilt issue again. I would feel terrible if I finished a sweater for a nonexistent baby before I made one for my own daughter. I'm hoping that once I finish the back part of the Pirate Sweater, I'll be less bored by the project, because the skull chart should be fun (right?). And if I'm not bored, I'm more inclined to work on it so I should have it finished in no time. Plus the Liam sweater is row upon row of garter stitch, which is even more boring than stockinette, so the Pirate sweater will be positively thrilling by comparison! At least, that's what I'm hoping. (I'm also hoping that a fabulous pattern, like oh maybe the Central Park Hoodie doesn't try to lure me away from the Knitting That Needs To Be Done with its promise of cables and other knitting joys.) I'll let you know how my delusions (and self-restraint) hold out.

the coolness of me, and generation why?

2008-01-21T19:19:00.000-05:00

Pay It Forward- “I will send a handmade gift to the first 3 people who leave a comment on my blog requesting to join this PIF exchange. I don’t know what that gift will be yet and you may not receive it tomorrow or next week, but you will receive it within 365 days, that is my promise! The only thing you have to do in return is pay it forward by making the same promise on your blog.”

I signed up to do this on Amy's blog. Now, if there are three people reading my blog who are willing to take part in this Pay It Forward, comment on this post and I'll send you something handmade! In turn, post the above info on your blog and we'll keep this thing going.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Over the weekend, I ditched the husband and kids for a bit and hung out with some of my cousins. They're college students now, ten years younger than I am, and we took a trip to Thayer Street in Providence. For those not in the know, Thayer Street is the place for all the cool Brown and RISD students. It's lined with funky, independent stores, and usually packed with young, hip, artsy types. In good weather, there are all kinds of musicians on the sidewalks with their instruments, and there are always tons of dreadlocked hippies floating around. During high school and college, I loved shopping on Thayer Street; not as much for the stores (although there are some good ones) as for the atmosphere. There are all kinds of people there and I always liked how five minutes on that street could make me feel wicked cool and simultaneously not cool enough.

It's been awhile since my last visit, and I was a little disappointed to see many of my old favorite independent stores were gone (and replaced with quite a few big-name ones). No matter, though, surely the vibe was the same, and so the cousins and I trekked on. We visited store after store, mostly just browsing. The bead store, the Army/Navy Surplus store, the candy shop, the funky toy store, the second-hand clothes shops, the Birkenstock store. We hit them all. It was at the bead store that I began to sense a change in Thayer Street. For some reason, I wasn't getting as much enjoyment from window shopping there as I had in the past. A decade ago I could (and frequently did) spend hours on Thayer Street and maybe visit two or three stores. Now, ten minutes into the bead store and I was getting impatient. I wanted the kids to hurry up; I wanted to go to a different store. I wasn't buying anything at that particular shop and I saw no reason to stay. Sure, some of the girls were buying jewelry, but I really thought they should just hurry up and pick out the dern beads already. I mean, twenty minutes looking at beads? Come on. They're nice, but they're not yarn or anything. Finally we left, and I was glad. I felt sure, now that we were out of that silly store, that the familiar feeling of fitting in that I had always previously experienced there would take over and I would enjoy myself. This was, after all, Thayer Street. The place for cool people. And I am nothing if not cool.

So, we went into store after store after store, and in each one I grew impatient after a time. It slowly dawned on me that, yes, Thayer Street had changed. There were more chain stores and fewer independent ones. There were many stores with wireless internet and most people were sporting ipods. But something else had changed, too. I had. I was no longer a young, hip college student with lofty, peaceful ideals and while I'd still like to end global warming and "make a difference," I know I have too many commitments and responsibilities now to take off and join The Peace Corps. My "rebellion" is limited to cloth diapers and a pin that says "I read banned books" on my knitting bag. I've become "real" and I don't really fit in with the young 'uns anymore.

After a quick look in a few stores, I was ready to go home. This of course depressed me, but I stuck it out and tried to act like I was having a great time. On the way back to our car (something like 18 hours later), I saw an advertisement on a telephone pole for free guitar lessons. Immediately, I thought of a book I've been reading. The book was originally published in the late '60s and it talks about a free college that was running at that time in one hip city or another. The way it worked was, anyone who had a talent could offer to teach it, and anyone who wanted to learn anything that was being offered could just go. No money involved, no "establishment" to deal with. Just you teach me, I'll teach you. (A philosophy, I thought, that was quite appropriate on a street full of pink-haired mohawked college kids who at least looked like they were ready to "fight the man.") I brought this subject up with my cousins, explaining how the school worked and the philosophy behind it. Then, I asked why things like that don't happen anymore. I was wondering when society had changed so much, from the free-love and peaceful idealism of the '60s to, well, now. Someone brushed it off with a "That's because we're living in a crazy world." "NO!" I replied emphatically, "That's not a good enough reason!" I was all set to launch into a lengthy diatribe about how things should change, and they could change, but it was up to them, their generation, to set things right. Before I could get up much steam, though, one of the girls said "I wish I was a child of the '60s." Thoughts went racing through my head- "Yes! She gets it! She understands how the people then were at least trying to do something! Maybe I'm too old for Thayer Street and maybe my generation is quickly losing it's opportunity to change the world, but that's okay as long as someone from the next generation understands! There's still hope for a better tomorrow!" Then my cousin continued, "My hair's so straight. It would have looked so good then."

I wonder why the world is the way it is? I may just have my answer.

sock it to me

2008-01-16T14:53:00.000-05:00

Yay! I finally finished my Hedera socks! I knit them both toe-up at the same time on one circular needle using Plymouth Indiecita Alpaca Yarn and they are the softest things ever! I am so excited about them! I have been thinking all day of how best to show my enthusiasm for these amazing socks (the first I have ever knit for myself). Initially I thought an abundance of exclamation points would do it, but now I'm not sure they're emphatic enough. Hm... let me think... I think I've got it. Let me try paraphrasing one of my favorite authors. (You may be familiar with his work.)

Here goes...

Say! I like my brand-new socks!

I do! I like them 'cause they rock!

And I will wear them in the house!

And I will share them with a mouse!

And I will wear them in a tree!
Oh, I will wear them lots you'll see!

And I will wear them on a boat!

And I will put them on a goat!

And I will share them with a cat!

And I will show them to a Pat!

And I will wear them here

and there!

Say! I will wear them EVERYWHERE!

So, um... yeah. I like my newly finished socks. Just in case you missed that.

a wish your heart makes?

2008-01-12T10:12:00.000-05:00

Why is it that when I finally, finally dream of Johnny Depp, he's a zombie clone out to kill my daughter? That is just not fair, although I did get to use some pretty great weapons against him: my aluminum #11s. Don't worry, I hadn't cast anything on yet.

my worldy girl

2008-01-09T22:02:00.000-05:00

I had to make a quick stop at a local music store, since Magic Baby's favorite cd (More Singable Songs by Raffi) bit the dust today and there was absolutely no way in hell I was driving for 45 minutes at night with a tired, cranky boy whining for his Six Little Ducks. The only store I could find was a Newbury Comics, which is a New England music store with a Hot Topic vibe. When I got back to the car with my prize (not the same exact cd, but at least it was The Man, and the boy, mercifully, was satisfied), Big Sister (who was 7 the last time I checked) said disgustedly "Why would that store have Raffi? He's not even Goth!" First of all, should 7 year-olds know that word? I'll admit I'm not super in-the-loop here, but she's only in second grade. How many Goths are there in lower elementary school? Not that I have a problem with people of the Gothic Persuasion, I just hadn't realized they had permeated society to the extent that prepubescent girls knew of them. Then I realized, she'd probably heard the word somewhere and wanted to try it out. Surely she had no idea what "being Goth" actually meant. So, of course, I asked her. Her response? "Goths are people who like black, won't go in the sun, and aren't morning people." Ummm... yeah, actually. That's pretty much right on the money, and I had to admit as much. So, I guess my question is, now what do I do? Do I have to buy her black leggings and skull t-shirts and let her borrow my mascara? Should I be worried by the fact that she, being a huge pirate fan for the last four years, already has an extensive collection of skull shirts? Or should I be more worried that I don't actually own any mascara that didn't expire back in 1991?

my weekend

2008-01-08T20:01:00.000-05:00

Anyone reading this who actually knows my grandmother probably thinks she is a kind, sweet woman. I'm here to tell you different: She is an enabler. An enabler of the worst kind. I know this seems harsh, but let's look at the facts, shall we?
As reported on this blog, I went to Webs last week. My grandmother (a knitter) knew this and urged me to call her when I got home. Being the wonderful granddaughter I am, I did just that. I shared with her the wondrous experience we'd had at the Yarn Bonanza That Is Webs. I told her everything I'd bought, and I shared with her that, per my usual m.o., I'd spent way more money than I had intended.
Then, on Friday night, do you know what she did? She called me and invited me to go with her to Webs the next day. And she did so, knowing full well it was the last day of their Fantastic Sale. My response? Considering I knew I was already over my yarn budget for the month? And taking in the fact that Jen and I swore to go on yarn diets the minute we returned from Webs last weekend? What did I tell Grandma? Come on, this is Webs, people. Of course I told her I would go, but I promised myself I would only buy a little more CashSilk. Just a skein or two, to make sure I had enough for the Swingy Tank I want to make with it. Plus, I reasoned with myself, Grandma had never been to Webs before and she would need someone to "show her the ropes" (or "the yarn" as the case may be). (Forget for a moment that last week was my first trips to Webs, and I went without a Webs Expert and I did just fine. I'll admit I was grasping at straws for a reason to go, but really I was trying to rationalize my second trip to the Knitting Mecca in less than two weeks. Cut me some slack.)
So, yeah, Grandma, her friend and I got to Webs, whereupon it is revealed to me that Grandma's friend (a life-long knitter) has Never. Made. Herself. A. Sweater. Never. I quickly set about rectifying this, plying her with the nicest, softest wool I could find, convincing her she could do it and making sure she had enough yarn for the pattern she chose. While she was deciding on a color, I went to look for the CashSilk. Webs, it turns out, didn't have any left in the color I had already bought, which was fine (really, I probably already had enough at home. I was only buying more to be on the safe side). I decided, in light that discovery, that I could allow myself to buy a small amount of another yarn. Enough to make a hat, or maybe some Fetchings, but no more. I was disciplining myself. Of course I could walk out of Webs with only a skein or two. Knitting doesn't control me that much.

At this point, I lost complete track of what happened. I do vaguely recall debating between some Araucania Nature Wool at $4.99 for 240 yards and Elsebeth Lavold Classic AL at $3.49 for 109 yards. I remember leaning towards the Nature Wool, because while it was not quite as soft as the other (which is a wool/ alpaca blend), it was definitely the more economical of the two. I also sort of remember my Grandmother pushing the alpaca on me (See? I told you she's an enabler). The next time I was fully conscious was when I was leaving the store. With enough of this

to make myself a Central Park Hoodie. What can I say? I am a weak, weak woman and the combination of being at Webs and having a willing Yarn Pusher at my disposal was just too much. I succumbed to all that is Woolen. But at least I'll get a hoodie out of the deal!!

I feel, in the interest of full disclosure, that I should report that people in the area of the cash register at the time I was allegedly making my purchase have said that I, upon learning the Nature Wool was $3.49 a hank, not the original $4.99 I thought, immediately bought two more hanks of it. All I can say is I have 7 hanks of it all together. I have no idea if the reports of me "eagerly rushing back to the warehouse" and "running through the store squealing while triumphantly holding two hanks of wool above my head and humming the 'Chariots of Fire' theme" are true.
Also, to be completely honest... when I got in the car and came to my senses, I realized (somehow) two skeins of that CashSilk I had originally gone in for had made its way into my bag. And it was the right color. And the right dye lot. I have absolutely no clue what it was doing there, but I thought it best to bring it home and show it some love. Gracious of me, I know.

Anyway, there you have the reasoning behind my allegations regarding my grandmother. Clearly, all my yarn buying was her fault. I have no responibility in the matter whatsoever.

The rest of my day went like this: After Webs, Hubby and I met some friends at a local gaming store so he could buy some Dungeons and Dragons stuff. This means two things. First, I immediately felt less guilty about bringing home more yarn, as it is common knowledge that Hubby has way more for D&D than I do for knitting. Second, having gone to both the Knitting Capital of The World and The Biggest Gaming Store in The State of Massachusetts in the same day, I am officially the biggest geek ever, which I kind of already knew. Still, it's good to have confirmation of these things.

And now, I would like to take this opportunity to express my eternal gratitude to my husband for taking care of Magic Baby twice so I could go to Webs. It was fabulous of him. He says he doesn't mind and he'd do it again in a heartbeat. He's so sweet like that! Btw, did anyone else hear a rumor that Webs has another sale around April...

... and received

2008-01-03T20:34:00.001-05:00

While I'll agree that giving gifts is fabulous, we all know that it is way better to receive than to give. In that vein, let me share with you some of the wonderful gifts I received this holiday season:

It looks like people around here think I enjoy knitting. I wonder where they got that idea.

(Clockwise from left: "Knit for a Cure" scarf-making set from my godfather, two new knitting books Beautiful Knitting from my grandmother and Not Tonight Darling, I'm Knitting from Jen, a gorgeous skein of hand-spun, hand-dyed merino also from Jen and a nifty box-o-knitting-notions from Jen's mom. Her name's Stephanie, so she put "Stephanie Pearl-McPhee" on the tag. Ubergeeky, but I loved it.)

After such a good haul, Jen and I decided to take a trip to the mecca that is Webs. (I tried to incorporate the acronym SEX in there somewhere, you know for Stash Enhancing eXpedition, but it sounded wrong. Very very wrong.) Here's the thing about Webs: It. Is. Amazing. We were there for more than two hours, and we were noticing new things on the way out. The store was incredible; totally worth the drive. (As an aside, before I got pregnant with Magic Baby, I started a Masters program which I had to put on hold because, well I got pregnant. Why am I mentioning this now? The program was at Smith College, which is in Northampton. This means I was going to school in the same town as Webs. And I wasn't a knitter, so I didn't care. Do you know how much it hurt when we drove all the way there and I realized the biggest yarn store in the country is within walking distance of where I lived for a month. And I didn't even know it was there. Excuse me while I wipe the tears from my keyboard.) I had a gift certificate to the store, which I promptly spent on this:enough Gedifra Cotton Merino for a sweater (por moi). I also got some cute 100% bamboo sock yarn (which is red pink and white and incredibly unphotogenic. Sorry.)

And then I was evil and splurged on some of this (also for me).

Yes, that says CashSilk as in 25% cashmere, 25% silk, 50% wool. It is so soft! I bought what I hope is enough to make a light, summery top of some sort. I still have to find the perfect pattern, but that's what Ravelry is for, right?

So that was the stash garnered from Webs. Add that to my Christmas gifts, and I'd say I did pretty well this year. Oh, and there is one more knitting-related gift.

Okay, so it doesn't look like much but that's only because it's not done yet. It's going to be a scarf, but not just any scarf. This is an extra-special, love-filled scarf knitted by...

my husband! Unbeknownst to me, he had Jen teach him how to knit! While he was in the hospital with gall stones! And he's been working on my scarf on coffee breaks at work and even during football games! How amazing is this guy?! This was by far the best gift I receive this year, and it's not even done yet. (Can you see where he inadvertently increased from 20 stitches to 42? He decided that rather than go back and fix it, he'll just do the same thing on the other end. I told him this is what we knitters call a "design element" and that it's a perfectly acceptable knitting technique.) I can't wait for him to finish, so I can proudly wear it and show it off! I've been watching him knit, and I can tell it's not really his thing (although he says he "appreciates the craft"). To me, that makes the gift even more special, because he keeps working on it for me, even though he's not a knitting fanatic. Yeah, he's great. And I know what you're thinking: Where can I get me a man like that? All I can tell you is: Sorry ladies. This one's taken!

knitted goodness given

2007-12-31T22:01:00.001-05:00

Now that the holidays are over, I can share with the world all the knitted mystery gifts I made! First up: knithulhu for Hubby, which Magic Baby adores. I'd like to point out this is the kid who is afraid of every doll and stuffed animal he's ever encountered. Except this green, tentacled thing. Personally, I think it's because he knows good knitting when he sees it. (It's made from an online pattern with Patons Merino Wool.)

Next up, a Blue Hills hat, also for Hubby, which he requested and will wear for work (he does construction). (The pattern is from knitty and the yarn is Knitpicks Wool of the Andes hand-dyed black/grey variegated.)

I also made three (yes, three) of brooklyntweed's Hemlock Ring blankets. Two (one for my mom and the other for one of my grandmothers) are hand-dyed Wool of the Andes from Knitpicks. The third (which I actually knit first) is a wonderfully soft angora/wool blend. I bought a ton of this yarn when a lys was closing a few months ago, and my original intention was to knit all three blankets with it. Then I started knitting and remembered I'm allergic to rabbits. Yeah, so that's why the other two were made with a different yarn. That's also why the angora one, while very soft, is also very very small. (As in, when I blocked it, it fit on a towel.) I got to a point where I just could not knit with it anymore. I tried wearing a mask and everything. I've heard of people who are allergic to wool using rubber gloves when they knit, but I just couldn't bring myself to do that. Thus, the grandmother who received the angora foot warmer/decorative couch thingey (as I called it) also got some scratch lottery tickets. (She is not allergic to rabbits, by the way.) Unfortunately, I forgot to take a picture of the (tiny) angora Hemlock Ring, but here are some pics of the Wool of the Andes ones.

For my dad, I made a felted book cover from an original pattern. I have to actually sew it into a cover still, but for that I need his book, so here's a shot of it blocked but not yet covering a book. (This was made with Paton's Merino wool, too. The picture is a hawk. Don't ask. It's a Dungeons & Dragons thing, and trust me, you don't want to know.)

Also finished in time for Christmas was Magic Baby's Little Star Sweater by Zoe Mellor from the book Adorable Knits for Tots: 25 Stylish Designs for Babies and Toddlers. (The yarn is Lion Brand's Cotton-Ease.) I cut it close on this one, but it was done in time and he looked really cute in it. See?

I really like her patterns. In fact, one of the next things I'll be knitting is a version of her Pirate Sweater modified to fit my seven-year-old. I bought the yarn for it at Webs this week... but for details of that trip, you'll have to wait until my next post!

Lastly, I'd like to share my Mini Weasley Sweater Ornaments from Alison Hansel's book Charmed Knits: Projects for Fans of Harry Potter. I made one for each of my kids, and on Christmas Eve, I hung them on their stockings. Big Sister came downstairs Christmas morning, saw the ornaments, turned to me and yelled, "Look what Santa made us! SANTA KNITS!!" Who knew the guy had so much free time?

(Although you can't really tell from the pictures, both are the same maroon and gold colors any true Gryffindor would wear.)

Knitting-related goodies were not only given, but also received. I promise to give more information on that (as well as what I bought at Webs) the next time I post. Until then, Happy New Year!

improve your vocabulary, save the world

2007-12-26T22:41:00.000-05:00

Well, the holiday is over and it was wonderful. I don't really have time for a full recap right now, but I wanted to post this site I found. I'm up to 9000 grains of rice so far.

(Okay, apparently I can put the picture link up, but I can't center it. Sorry.) The site's addictive, fun, educational- and it helps the United Nations. What's not to love?

playing catch-up

2007-12-22T19:31:00.001-05:00

Wow, has it been over a week already? And what has kept me away so long, you may wonder. My reply: Lots of little things. Here's a quick synopsis.

First was Hubby's birthday, complete with cake from Big Sister...and sprinkles-in-the-yogurt-concoction from Magic Baby. (Happy 35th, hon!)
Next up, a trip to The Price is Right Live at Foxwoods Casino
with my mom, brand-new sister-in-law, Aunt D, Aunt A, Aunt R and cousin.

Oh, and Grandma and I were there, too!
(This show was way too much fun, btw. We got to see them spin the big wheel,

and play all the classic games,
even Plinko! And while none of us were called to "come on down," the potential was there- and it was pretty dern exciting.) And the show was hosted by Roger Lodge, who I love on Blind Date. Naturally, I had to meet him, and I really wanted a picture of him holding my knitting, but my mom (not a knitter), took my bag and ran. So, here's a pic of me, Rog, and my s-i-l sans knitting...and a pic of my mom with the sweater I was working on before the show. (I was smart and only brought that project, thus forcing myself to weave in all the crappy ends. Looks like it'll be done for Christmas!)

Then, as if that wasn't enough to do in one week, we also went to Edaville Railroad, where I learned that not only does Mary spin, but apparently Mrs. Claus knits! Yay, fiber arts!
Edaville was great. Freakin' freezing (I swear I almost lost a toe), but a lot of fun. If you've never been, Edaville is a Christmas-themed amusement park. The kids (of all ages) got a big kick out of going on carnival rides in the snow (yeah, it was snowing).
And Magic Baby went on his first ride all by himself.

I found out while he was on it that the ride is over fifty years old, at which point I was tempted to yell "Get my son off that death trap, you masochistic bastard!" but common sense took hold (the ride was, like, two feet off the ground and moved about 8 seconds per hour... and this is the kid in line to be the next Evel Knievel, so I suppose he could handle the Spinning Turtles) and he enjoyed himself immensely. Also, because it was a weeknight, and you know, snowing the place was way less crowded than normal. This means no lines, no waiting, and if you overlook the frostbite, a great time all around! The employees were super nice, too, which is always good when you're wet and cold and your kids really want to ride the Sizzler one more time. Plus they have an incredible train ride through the park. This place is definitely worth checking out.Then, (yeah, 'cause we're not done), we went to Big Sister's school play.
She was the cutest Baby Bear everand Daddy was a bad influence as usual, riling up Magic Baby before the big performance.

So, that was my week. Last night Santa came to my parents' house (we do the holiday early, since Big Sister spends Christmas at her mom's), and he's due here any minute, so I'd better get off to bed; I don't want the big guy catching me awake! I'll be sure and post any cool gifts received (or given) over the next few days.

Happy holidays to all!

snow day

2007-12-13T17:38:00.000-05:00

Four kids plus nine to twelve inches of snow equals

So glad Jen went back to work.

holiday happenings

2007-12-08T19:53:00.002-05:00

Here in New England, the holiday season is not complete without a trip to LaSalette Shrine. Not ones to defy tradition, the family and I went on Thursday. Regardless of your religious affiliation, or even your degree of religious belief, this place is pretty cool. Mainly because it has lights.

Lots and lots

and lots and lots

and lots and lots of lights.

Seriously, these pictures don't even do it justice. There are over 400,000 lights at this place. It's amazing to see. It's also amazingly crowded. Not to mention amazingly cold. (Somehow this place is always at least ten degrees colder than the rest of New England. I don't know why; it's probably some weird religious phenomenon, like stigmata.) This year, we managed to avoid the crowds by going on a weeknight. (Why we never though of that before is beyond me.) There was no one there, which was great. We were not able to avoid the extreme cold, however, although some well-placed handknits certainly helped ward off the chill.

Anyway, I've gone to LaSalette almost every year since I was born and this year they had a new little display.

Why yes, that is Mary spinning, with who I assume to be Jesus lending a hand (or two). This tableau, as I mentioned, is brand-new. The fact that it was added to the Shrine the very year I start looking into spinning and possibly getting a spinning wheel of my own is not lost on me. In fact, I consider it a sign, if not from above, at least from somewhere, that good people spin and if I want to be good, I need a spinning wheel. See, Hubby, it's a religious thing.

"How did the kids enjoy the trip?" you wonder. Funny you should ask. See, Magic Baby loves the Christmas lights in our neighborhood. In fact, he asks to go see them every night. And he makes us drive out of our way to see "More lights," so I was pretty convinced he would adore LaSalette. In anticipation of his extreme excitement upon seeing this place for the first time, I made sure I had my camera ready when we pulled into the parking lot. As a result, I was fortunate enough to capture this shot

of him completely unfazed by the hundreds of thousands of lights around him. "He's just overwhelmed," I thought. And then, as we got out of the car, he uttered his first words since seeing the amazing luminary display. And do you know what he said?

He said...

"Bus."

Yeah, apparently the Senior Center van was way more appealing than the huge display of lights. As we continued our trip, he showed some moments of enthusiasm when he saw the lights

but really, nothing equalled the initial thrill of the bus.

And, damn, was it cold. Next year I'm thinking of just taking him to the local nursing home. I hear they have this thing called heat.

me on a soapbox

2007-12-05T20:20:00.000-05:00

There's currently tons of research suggesting that teaching babies sign language could help them develop better speech and communication skills, and possibly even raise their IQs. I'd like to offer another reason why teaching your baby to sign is a good idea: They're darn cute when they do it.

Sign language or disco fever- you decide

As you can see from the video, Magic Baby learned the sign for 'popcorn' this week. I've been signing to him his entire life, and while I can't guarantee this will boost his IQ, I will say that it has helped him communicate earlier that I think he would have had he not been taught to sign. He started signing before he could talk, with 'bed,' 'milk,' 'eat,' and 'out.' He now knows more signs than I can count- and at least as many words. His ability to sign has helped us avoid many misunderstandings and conflicts since he has been able to tell us what he wants, even before he could speak. Now that his speech is improving, we could probably stop signing to him but I think continuing to expose him to another language is a good idea. I've always wanted him to learn sign in order to appreciate and understand the language and hopefully keep using it throughout his life; I never intended him to only use it for a few months. This, I think, is where I differ from many other parents. The way I see it, if I was teaching him, say Spanish, I wouldn't suddenly stop using it with him just because he now has a decent grip on English. This is the age at which people are best able to learn a second language and I'd like sign to be his. Plus, since I'm a sign language student, signing with him gives me a great opportunity to practice. And did you see how adorable he is when he does it?

So there you have my rationale for teaching my son to sign: it helps him communicate, it will hopefully give him an appreciation of another language and it's cute. Really, really cute.

i did it!

2007-11-30T23:48:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-29T22:25:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-28T23:47:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-27T23:02:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-26T23:50:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-25T23:45:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-24T22:54:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-23T23:42:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-22T21:55:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-21T22:13:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-20T20:36:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-19T22:24:00.000-05:00

(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

2007-11-18T19:33:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-17T20:54:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-16T21:12:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-15T20:52:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-14T22:08:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-13T13:15:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-12T17:09:00.002-05:00

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

2007-11-11T23:36:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-10T23:35:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-09T23:19:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-08T21:50:00.002-05:00

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!

2007-11-07T19:47:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-06T22:18:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-05T22:45:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-04T23:12:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-03T19:36:00.000-04:00

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

2007-11-02T21:15:00.000-04:00

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

2007-11-01T23:39:00.000-04:00

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!

finally, a post about knitting

2007-10-23T22:48:00.000-04:00

You would think that with my husband home for two weeks I'd have more knitting time than I could handle, and yet that has not been the case. In fact, other than when he was having his surgery, I haven't had a decent chunk of time in which to knit since before he got sick. (This, I assure you, has nothing to do with the hours and hours I've spent in front of my new computer.) Nevertheless, I have managed to nearly complete the Little Star Sweater I've been working on. All that's left is to put the whole thing together and finish the neck. Yeah!!!

Oh, right, and work in the myriad of ends.

But, since the sweater is a Christmas present (and I really, really hate weaving in ends), I don't have to do that right now. Besides, the weather has been beautiful; Magic Baby won't need a sweater until February at this rate! Who says global warming isn't good for something? Warm weather in winter= extended sweater deadlines! You go, Republicans!

In a related note, today was another beautiful one, weather-wise. Overcast in the morning but warm and breezy. Hubby and I took Magic Baby to a local park both to celebrate the nice day and as kind of a last hurrah. Tomorrow Hubby goes back to work, and while having a paycheck coming in will be nice (we all know that more money means more yarn), Magic Baby and I are going to miss having him here all day. Hubby is a bit of a workaholic who literally takes one week and one day off a year, so these two weeks have been quite a treat for us. Especially since he was only recovering from minor surgery; he couldn't pick up the baby, and he was pretty uncomfortable for awhile there, but he's actually been great for about a week now. Not good enough to go back to work or anything (he does construction and we had to wait for the wounds to heal and all that fun stuff before he could go back to lifting heavy objects), but good enough to enjoy (and be enjoyed by) his family. We've had a really nice time together; I hope he has to have his gall bladder out again sometime!

Anyway, we had a really nice time at the park today. Magic Baby enjoyed playing on the swings and the small beach.

He also really liked running a stick along the fence of the tennis court. (Such a boy!)

But then, guess what happened....

Yep, out of nowhere a backhoe drove right onto the beach where we were and went to work cleaning up the remnants of a bonfire. Holy crap, Magic Baby was thrilled. He got to sit maybe fifteen feet from the truck and watch it do its thing and we got to watch his excited little face. It was perfect, the perfect way to end our little "vacation" with Hubby.

autumn activities

2007-10-21T19:54:00.000-04:00

I must say, I'm proud of myself. For the first time ever, Hubby and I have found time to do all the seasonal activities we wanted with the kids. This is especially difficult for us because we only have Big Sister every other weekend and it apparently took me seven and a half years to realize that this means we need to get going on holiday stuff sooner. Usually, we end up dyeing Easter eggs hours before the Bunny is scheduled to arrive or putting up our Christmas tree on the 23rd. This year, though, fall was different. I actually got my butt in gear and made sure we did an ample number of autumn-type things before the snow came. Here's a look at what those things were:

1. About a month ago, we went apple and pumpkin picking at a local orchard. The weather was beautiful, the kids had a great time, and hopefully they have a better understanding of how apples and pumpkins grow. (This has literally been on our To Do list for seven years. It feels great to finally be able to cross it off!)

2. Last week, we went to a corn maze at Escobar's Highland Farm in Portsmouth. Unfortunately, Big Sister was tired and decided at the last minute she didn't want to go. Normally we would have just rescheduled, because of course we wanted to all go as a family, but they were having Harry Potter day. How could I resist? I wore my Gryffindor scarf (knit by my Grandmother six years ago, before you could buy the cheesy replicas they have now) and my Weasley raglan (knit by me over the summer. Yeah, I wore a sweater in 80 degree weather, but as it was the first sweater I've ever knit for myself, I'm sure you understand.). We got sorted into houses (I into Ravenclaw, the baby into Gryffindor and my husband into Slytherin. Tee-hee. He's in Slytherin.), and I took a HP quiz, which I enjoyed way too much. We told Big Sister we'll go again if she wants. I'm sure she'd have a great time. Magic Baby, my 20-month old, absolutely loved being chased through the corn. See?

The tractor ride through the farm was a big hit with him, too. What I'd like to do someday is ditch the kids (or at least the baby) and get a ton of people together, split up into teams, and race through the maze. Hey, I never said I was hip, but you have to admit that would be a lot of fun.

3. Last night we went to Pumpkins in the Park at Pawtucket's Slater Park with my parents, some friends of ours and their two little girls. There were some pretty nice hand-carved pumpkins, a few people in costumes, and a bunch of those inflatable Halloween decorations that my mom keeps buying for Big Sister and I keep "forgetting" to put up. Magic Baby liked looking at everything, but his favorite part was when I took him out of his stroller and let him run around. (Apparently 20 months is the age at which nothing beats a good run.) The pumpkins at Pumpkins in the Park were nowhere near as nice as the ones they had a few years back at Roger Williams' Zoo. Those pumpkins were amazing. They've moved those awesome pumpkins from the zoo to McCoy Stadium. From what I've heard, the pumpkins still look great, but part of the whole experience (in my opinion) was the natural vibe that came from having it at the zoo. They had incorporated the trees and landscape and everything really well, and I just don't think I would like it as much at a baseball stadium. Of course, if you happen to be a baseball fan, you might like the whole being-inside-a-minor-league-stadium aspect of it, but I still think I would miss the trees. Maybe it's me.
Slater Park also has a Haunted Tunnel. Big Sister, being all of seven-and-a-half, felt she was ready to try it, despite repeated warnings on my mother's part. She's tough. She could totally handle it. So, Hubby and my mom bought three tickets and waited 45 minutes with her. (My dad, Magic Baby and I waited outside. I admit to being a total chicken when it comes to these things.) After the long wait, Big Sister was still strutting around like she owned the place, and Hubby thought things were looking good. Then, it was their turn. The lights were dim, there were decapitated bodies all around and some creepy vampirey-looking guy with white contacts opened the door. Big Sister freaked. She started backpeddled into Hubby, pushing him with all her might. (Not unlike I did years ago when he took me to a haunted house, but I digress.) She wouldn't go in. My mom convinced her to try again, but it just wasn't happening. She said it was the white eyes that did it. I don't think my husband "laughing like a hyena" helped, but that just may be me. Needless to say, she has since sworn off all haunted houses, iParty, and a commercial for Prison Break that came on during the Red Sox game. (I'm not sure what Prison Break has to do with vampires. Except that it sucks. Yeah, I went there.) Oh, and she slept in our bed last night.

Overall, a pretty decent variety of activities revolving around the fall, I think. Hubby is going to carve pumpkins with Big Sister on his weekly visitation Thursday, since Magic Baby enjoys in addition to running, taking things that he's not supposed to have and shoving them in his mouth. I'll let him use some nice, non-toxic paint on his own pumpkin next week. And that's about it for fall. I'm always on the lookout for cool things to try, though, so I'm sure we'll keep busy. For now, I'm just glad I remembered to start early and was actually able to fit everything in for once. Next up: Thanksgiving. I wonder if it's too early to bake that pie I always mean to bring to dinner on Turkey Day and never seem to have time for?

I'm beginning to think some kind of extraterrestrial beings are controlling my husband... and I'm cool wth it

2007-10-17T22:12:00.000-04:00

Okay, so while Hubby isn't exactly Scrooge, he's certainly, let's say, frugal? As in Nearly-Goes-Into-Heart-Failure-Each-And-Every-Time-I-Mention-Yarn-Shopping Frugal. Or Has-Literally-Worn-Holes-In-His-Jeans-Which-He-Has-Then-Duct-Taped-And-Worn-To-Work-Anyway Frugal (and I'm not talking holes in the knees, either). Not that he isn't usually accepting of my constant need to spend money; I can almost always get him to see that the shirt I bought was a great bargain or the merino an absolute steal. But gettng the man to part with his cash can certainly be a challenge at times. (I, on the other hand, can never pass up a sale, but this is clearly not about me.)

"So, he's a bit stingy. How does that make him the victim of mind-controlling aliens?" you ask. Ah, but it is not his tight-wad tendencies that lead me to believe he's posessed; it's his recent lack thereof. I offer the following as proof:

1. Just a few weeks ago, he bought me an ipod. True, it was an aniversary gift, and yes it was an ipod shuffle (the least expensive of the line, but that's totally okay with me because it's perfect for what I need). Still, no ipod can be called cheap and I had only mentioned my desire for the mp3 player a handful of times, nowhere near the hundreds of "hints" I usually toss out there. Needless to say, this off-the-cuff purchase was pretty uncharacteristic of him. Looking back, I see this as the red flag that the little green buggers were beginnng their evil infiltration. (That's buggers not boogers. That would be gross.)

2. Today, we had most of the windows in our house replaced. As you can imagine, this was pretty costly, and while the old windows definitely needed to go (they were the wooden ones from 1933. I'm not kidding.), Hubby's typical approach to household items (and most things, in fact) is along the lines of "Use it 'til it breaks. Then, use it some more." Most of our windows weren't even cracked yet, and he had them replaced them, again without much nagging on my part! Clearly, he is not in his right mind.

Now, here's the biggie...
3. The day before the guys were coming to do the windows... coincidentally the day my Ravelry invite arrived... he let me buy a computer. Did I mention he's out of work at the moment recovering from minor surgery and I'm a stay-at-home mom? Not a lot of money coming in right now and in two days we buy a computer and replace our windows. Come on. This cannot be the man I married.

I don't mean to sound ungrateful. On the contrary, I am pretty psyched by this new attitude of his. And the best part is that the mind-controlling dudes haven't changed anything else about him. He's still the sweet, loveable, imaginative, smart, funny guy I married. Only now, he seems to be as free with money as I am! Okay, it's not that extreme. Yet. If he offers to watch the baby while I take the Platinum AmEx to my LYS, we'll know they've completely taken over his mind. We'll know one other thing too; they're on our side.

yeah, technology!

2007-10-16T21:33:00.000-04:00

Well, it's official. Hubby and I have joined the 20th century (hey, better late than never). How's that? you may ask. Well, today we... bought our first computer. Innovative, I know, but then we always were ahead of our time.

Anyway, I've decided to try my hand at the whole blogging thing. Not that I think my life is uber-exciting or anything, but the world wide web is huge; surely someone must have a less-interesting blog than I do, right?

logo

2007-09-16T13:08:00.001-04:00

2007-09-07T17:40:00.000-04:00

2007-09-04T17:58:00.000-04:00