Coming Up For Air

I should never let an angsty post sit for so long. I know many of you worry. And I don't mean to worry anyone. I'm just writing what I know to be true. Sometimes I blog simply because I like to write. I like to string words together. I like to organise the words to create pretty pictures. I like to tell a story. Just like I think knitting is magic, I think stories are magic. I like to create magic.

But unfortunately I have to write what I know. No made up stories in me. Everything is true life. And sometimes I think my most powerful words come from a painful place. I think the need to dissect an emotion, distill it down to its very core is more prominent in ugly emotions. No one needs to over think happiness. They just feel it. They enjoy the moment until it passes. Stopping to say "Now why am I really happy" might just ruin the moment. Nope, no need to over think joyful emotions. But ugly emotions, they tend to beg for introspection. Rest assured I'm all done being introspective. I have purged and moved on. My focused has shifted from self-analysis to more important things like catching up on laundry, hugging my children and pondering whether I should get bangs.

You can all thank my Father for today's post. He called me begging for more blog posts. I told him I was rather busy with things (pondering bangs has taken up quite a bit of my time), but I promised him I would try to blog on Tuesday. Never mind the fact that the Tuesday in question happened to be Tuesday, April 15th. Today is Tuesday (right, it is Tuesday right?) so this totally counts. Right?

And since this is a Grandpa inspired post, I shall give the Grandpa what he's here for: GRANDCHILDREN!

Sorry two are sideways. Photobucket is giving me fits, and I've got limited time to mess with this, Sweet Pea will be waking up any minute now. I'll fix it later if I can. And I promise, knitting is coming. I've got one hot mess to show off!

And FYI, I've come down firmly on the side of no concerning the bang issue.

So today's the second anniversary of the day my Mom died. It's a very surreal kinda morning. Last year was surprisingly easy. I thought to myself (and this might sound callous) "She's already dead. What more can they do? They can't take her away again." And my day was quiet. I played with my children. I ate lots of chocolate. I sewed like my Mom did. It wasn't a great day, but it wasn't the worst day.

But this year is subtly different. There's nothing about today that is different from yesterday. I woke to the same giggly baby kicks I awoke to yesterday. The same pretty girl was standing by my bedside with yet another crazy question that made me internally groan wondering why these things could never wait until the sun was up. (Why does she only ponder the nature of the universe before six a.m.?) I'm sure when all my children are awake my house will be filled with the same laughter, hugs, whining, and occasional tears that make every day simultaneously different and mind numbingly the same (behold the joys of motherhood!).

Yet this morning is harder than yesterday. Harder than last year. It is almost as if I didn't realize until now how completely permanent this situation is. Nothing in my life has been this set in stone. I will never see my Mother in this life again. That's it. Never again. There is no miracle. No do over. No one will save the day in the final moment to change this. The time for miracles is past. And every day that marches on, every turn of the calendar, makes this clearer in my mind. And it just isn't fair.

Time marches on. Life moves on without her. In theory this is a good thing. We can not wallow in grief. She wouldn't want that. But not a day goes by that I don't think of her. Not a day passes that I don't miss her. It usually doesn't descend into wallowing, but sometimes the ache is sharper than other times.

Today is it razor sharp.

I miss my Mom.

But don't worry. I won't sit and wallow today either. In a fit of insanity, knowing full well what today is, I told my friend I would watch her two year old twins today. I love them, they're excellent children, but they're lively in a way my older children have outgrown. I must go lock the yarn cabinet and put away the step stool I keep in the bathroom. They should be here in an hour.

Whatever day today turns out to be, it will not be dull.

And life marches on.....

Busy Busy

Sometimes I don't post because I'm sad. Other times? I'm too tired (and by tired I mean mind-numbingly exhausted, can't believe I've kept the children alive this long I'm so tired) to be creative. And still other times? I'm just busy living life, loving my kids, trying not to nag The Greatest too much, battling daily to keep the house at a bare minimum of sanitary, just the mundane snippets of life that are extraordinary and often beautiful in their simplicity (except when I clean the base of the toilet. There's nothing beautiful about cleaning the base of the toilet. Especially in the children's bathroom. I just remind myself I'm incredibly spoiled to have a designated children's bathroom. But spoiled or not, it's still not pretty. But I digress.).

Right now I'm busy. Nothing big keeping me busy. Just busy with the little things. There's still a load of laundry waiting to be folded. Three loads waiting to be put away. And that aforementioned toilet? Yeah, it's waiting too. All this must quickly be done before Sweet Pea wakes up from her nap. Because once she's up the house turns into the Sweet Pea show. All attention must be on Sweet Pea. No setting this child in the bouncy chair while I attend to other things. All eyes on Sweet Pea. And being the epitome of the spoiled final baby she is indulged by the entire house. All three children clamor for her smiles and attention. But again, I digress. I know you've been patiently waiting too! My knitting has been all rubbish lately (I just love that word, makes me feel like I'm British, and possibly a wizard). And no, that's not me being overly critical, it really has been bad knitting lately. It's very sad. I'll post more on that later (it's all the Hemlock Ring Blanket's fault). For now, with the little time I've got left (I hear movement on the baby monitor) I'll give you the good stuff. I know what you're really here for anyways.

My Little Easter Egg

Thank you all for your kind words. I didn't expect such an out pouring of love. It means more than most of you will ever know. I don't have the words to adequately say the things I'm thinking and feeling, so I'll leave it at Thank You.

Sweet Pea is also doing her best to make Easter a wonderful holiday. Here she is doing her best Easter Egg impression.

Isn't she pretty?

Feeling Introspective

A blogger I love recently wrote about blogs losing that certain something. Every blog has something that makes it unique. It might be a writing style, a way with words, a talent for laughter, or inspiring photography, or just an undefinable something that brings you back day after day. Sometimes blogs get boring. The spark that caused you to bookmark the site is missing. Something has changed and the difference is bad.

I'm afraid I've lost my spark.

I've gone through something. I thought I was sad when The Greatest lost his job. I thought I would never be the same when we had to sell our home. I grieved when my best friend moved away. I thought I was bereaved the day the dryer broke and The Greatest lost his job again. But that was all nothing. Those were blips in my life that changed the course our life was taking, but it didn't change me. Not the way I changed when my Mom died.

I'm sad. And I'm sick of pretending nothing has changed. There is an unfillable void in my life now. There's a corner of my soul that will never be bright again, no matter how happy I am with the rest of my life. The Greatest can always get another job. We have never been homeless, we've always found another place to live. But I can never get another Mother, nor do I want another Mother. I miss my Mom.

I'm sad that my Mom will never smile at Sweet Pea. I'm sad that my Mom didn't get to see The Greatest graduate from the Academy. My Mom won't be there next month when my Sister gets married. There are milestones of life that won't be shared with her, one of my best friends. These milestones will come and go with joy, but there will be an empty spot where she should be. When will the urge to call and share my day with her go away?

I was digging through the archives of my blog looking for something and I was amazed by the changes my blog has gone through in the past year and a half. Heck, I wrote it and I can see the glaring difference. I miss that girl who started this blog. That girl always had hope. She laughed at herself. She had the eternal love of Boyd. I liked her a lot.

I'd like to bring that girl back. I'd like to laugh at myself again. I'd like to not hide my bad days. I'm not healing because I'm not acknowledging the big elephant in the room. If I don't make fun of the fact I've worn my pajamas for five days in a row, how can I laugh at myself on the sixth day when I pull on yet another pair, instead of crying on the sixth day as I pull on yet another pair.

(And for the record, that's an example, I am not in fact wearing pajamas today. Instead I am wearing my fat girl uniform of black velour pants, hoodie, and brightly colored t-shirt, some articles of which may still be maternity although I am in fact not pregnant. But my post-baby body issues are a topic for another time, I'm trying to be deep today)

I don't know where I'm going with this. It's probably Easter that's brought this melancholy all out. I used to love Easter. It has the best candy, with a heavy emphasis on chocolate. And the candy is brought to you, no work gathering it up like Halloween. Some nice bunny brings it right to you. And did you know my love of bunnies runs deep? Someday I'll tell you the tale of Georgia Anne and Mr. Rustle. I used to love Easter. I want to enjoy Easter. But it too is tainted with a black void that Snicker eggs just can't fill. Not even the Sweet Tart Bunnies and Chicks can brighten the darkness (although they might be contributing to the fat girl uniform). And until I can laugh at the dark, I fear I won't find my spark.

Don't hate me because it's warm outside

Don't hate me. But it is supposed to be 86 degrees today. 86! While much of the nation is still bitterly cold, some parts covered with snow, I am cheating Mother Nature. And The Greatest is filling the swimming pool. But don't feel sad. Its not all good news. You can take heart in the thought that when you are finally basking in the nice warm sun I will be huddled in my house with the shades drawn and an electric bill so high I'll contemplate selling Sweet Pea to pay it, desparately trying to keep cool because going outside will feel like entering the fourth ring of hell. Experience has taught me that in life there is always a downside. But for the moment there is still enough Middle-American in me to feel slightly naughty having such nice weather in February. I feel gidy and slightly sad at the thought that another winter has passed without the hint of snow. I feel awe at the thought that it is February and winter has passed. I got a sunburn yesterday sitting outside reading to the children. See, there is always a downside.

Another downside to all the fabulous weather is I don't feel like knitting. I feel like walking with the kids while they ride their bikes. I feel like taking a nap with the breeze blowing the freshly washed curtains in my bedroom. I might try being a southern belle. I feel like drinking lemonade and fanning myself like a true southern belle. Or do southern belles drink mint juleps? I should find out what a mint julup is just in case. And just for good measure, I'd better learn to bat my eyelashes and blush now that I'm thinking about it. Becoming a southern belle is starting to sound like a lot of work. Maybe I should just become a gritty southwestern babe. Do I need to learn to chew tabacco and spit for that? See there's so much I want to do. But playing with wool? Not so much. It's a good thing a have a back-log of finished knits to show off. On deck today? Grandma's Stole!

Pattern: Print O' The Wave Stole

Yarn: Patons Beehive Fingering 3-ply, 100% wool

Needles: Size 4 Addi Lace

Modifications: None, I even knit the two sides separately and grafted them in the middle. I'm so proud.

Review: Another win! The fact that this was a Christmas present and she opened a box with a half-knit shawl does detract a little from the memory. A happy Grandma on Christmas morning with her shawl would have been nicer. But in my defense I was hideously pregnant and the edging took an eternity to knit. I just couldn't get it done by Christmas morning. But that is my issue, not yours. The fact of the matter is the shawl is done. It is gorgeous. It is thin and lacey and delicate, all the things a lace stole should be. And Grandma is happy, wrapped in love. That is what matters.

And just so you don't send a lynch mob after me. Today's Baby Sweetness: Got Milk?

The Infamous Grey Hat

Pattern: The Love Child of We Call Them Pirates and Domiknitrix's Skull Chart

Yarn: Knit Picks's Telemark, 1 skein Snow Leopard, One Skein Black
Elann's Devon, 1 skein Pumpkin, for the liner

Needles: 2 Size 3 Addi Turbos

Modifications: Where do I begin with this hat. There was no pattern for this hat. I was merely instructed to knit a grey hat with a large black skull. I was excited to knit this (because how cool is that skull?!!!!) until I realized this would not be fun stranded knitting. This would mean intarsia. I would need to knit the skull in intarsia. And I am sooooo bad at intarsia. I'm sure I'd be better at intarsia now that I've got more knitting experience under my belt. But still. Intarsia is one of those knitting techniquest that makes me want to drink. But the teenage boy wanted a grey hat with a huge black skull so a grey hat with a big black skull he shall get!

So the hat would need to be knit with intarsia using one large ball of grey yarn, four small balls of grey yarn, and three small balls of black yarn. And maybe some stranded knitting for the teeth. That's a lot of string to dangle around. And it would need to be knit back and forth on straight needles instead of in the round, then seamed. Plus it would need a liner, so the liner would need to be knit first, then attatched like a knit in hem. Only that would make it harder to seam. So I would have to knit the liner, knit the hat/skull with eight pieces of yarn dangling, then seam hat and liner (praying a seam in a hat isn't too uncomfortable to wear), then sew the top of the liner in place.

The whole process made my head hurt, so I took all the yarn and stuffed it in the bottom of my knitting bag. Over the next few months I would periodically take the project out, feel faint, and promptly stuff it back in the knitting bag. I finally reached the point where my guilt over not knitting the hat was more painful the the thought of actually knitting the hat. So I pulled it out and looked it over. I reviewed my graph, my gauge measurements, my little pattern diagram. I might have died a little inside and I cast on. And I immediately frogged it. Then I cast on again. Repeat this process three more times when I had an epiphany (althought it might have been a small stroke). No need for intarsia! Knit a grey hat in the round then sew the skull on using duplicate knit. I still had to sew the liner in place when I was all done, but there was no uncomfortable seam and the skull is uber-cool! I was done in a matter of days.

Review: This is my favorite hat ever! The Greatest has already requested one, only he would like The Punisher Skull on his hat. And I guess he's been talking about it at work because he came home the other day and informed me that I will need to knit Punisher hats for his entire squad. Knitpicks has discontinued their Telemark in Snow Leopard, so I guess I'd better order some more now before they're gone.

Thank Goodness for Spell Check

See this sweet face. So tiny. So innocent. So evil. The Tiny Terrorist has declared full on war. I'm not sure what I have done to make her so angry. Am I not eating enough chocolate? Am I not using the right diapers? Or does she merely hate the comfy sleepers I insist on dressing her in because they look so, well, comfy? I can not determine the reason, but I do know I have done something to incur her wrath. And her method of torture? Extreme sleep deprivation. I know I have mentioned this before, but she really stepped it up last night, waking every fifteen to twenty minutes. She was so gassy. I didn't think baked potatoes could cause such gas in a breastfed infant. I know that soon this will all be a foggy memory, but in the meantime I wish I could write coherent sentences and remember how to spell words like incur.

There has been knitting. I have been unusually productive. The Greatest is working the nights and weekends shift. I know as a cop there is more going on during the nights and weekends, so he is very happy. I'm an very tired. He is always working or sleeping. And I now have the added duty of trying to keep the children quiet while he is sleeping. A Herculean task. I'd dare say it is against the laws of the universe for my son to use an indoor voice. I'm pretty sure they forgot to include a quiet setting on him. I wonder if it is too late to return him as broken. It's a good thing The Greatest is a heavy sleeper. I'm burning the candle at both ends between nights with the Terrorist and days with my other children and it was starting to show. So during his last few days off The Greatest did everything while I got to sit and knit and nurse the baby. He did dishes, vacuumed the floor, fed the children. It was heaven. I swear I need to get myself a full-time "House Husband." Note to self *Buy lottery ticket so I can afford a House Husband, and possibly have money to bribe the Terrorist.* I knit only small things so I have lots of knitting to show off, but I must first finish unveiling the Pirate hats. Someday my blogging will catch up to my real life and I will show things as I knit them instead of weeks after the fact. Now without further ado: We Call Them Pirates!

Pattern: We Call Them Pirates

Yarn: Knit Picks Telemark, 1 skein Snow Leopard
Elann Devon, 2 skeins pumpkin, held double stranded

Needles: 2 Size 3 circular needles (Addi Turbos to be specific)

Modifications: I knit the liner first and used it as a knitted in hem rather than knitting it after the fact and sewing it in place. So much easier this way.

Review: I love this pattern. It is so much fun to knit. Have I mentioned how much I'm loving stranded knitting right now? And it is always well received. I'm sure this won't be the last pirate hat I knit. I've already been asked to knit more. And for you knitting perverts, here's the inside.

Can you see the grey skulls? Pretty cool isn't it!

The Parade of Skulls Begins

Can you believe I had the nerve to post the other day without including a baby picture? The nerve. As if anyone is here to see my knitting. I know you're only here for the baby.

Hey she's my cute sweet baby too. And she is very proud to have lost another tooth, on Valentine's Day no less (because a tooth lost on Valentine's Day is extra special don't you know). She asked her Dad last night if her missing tooth made her smile extra cute. Not really, but her enthusiasm is extra cute. I thought I blogged when she lost her second tooth. But I can't find it, so I must have remained silent with shame. When Pork Chop lost her second tooth it took the Tooth Fairy FOUR DAYS to show up. When the Tooth Fairy finally did show she left an astounding FIVE DOLLARS. It must have been a guilt gift, because I know we've always sworn our children wouldn't get more than a dollar from the Tooth Fairy. Five is just ridiculous. We are the greatest parents ever. And to add to the fun...The Tooth Fairy didn't show last night either. We told Pork Chop the Tooth Fairy must take Valentine's Day off. We are bad, bad parents. This morning Pork Chop filled her special tooth bag with the Tooth, a Valentine for the Tooth Fairy and a Sucker for the Tooth Fairy. That lady had better get her act together and show up tonight.

Enough of the bad parenting. I'm a great Santa, I'm just an especially bad Tooth Fairy. Which really is a shame. I like the Tooth Fairy's costume so much better. I've always wanted wings. Oh well. On to the knitting. I must confess. It is fun to have finished knits to show on the blog again. Makes me feel like a real Knitter with a capital K.

When I was knitting the hats for my friend I wanted to make each one different. The older children requested very specific hats, in specific colors. But the youngest merely wanted a hat with skulls like all the big boys. I wanted him to have a skull hat, but one that was uniquely his. Not just a smaller version of one of the other hats. Fellow Blogger to the resque!

Janelle at bioengiknitter created a pirate hat perfect for a tiny head.

Pattern: Pirate Hat

Yarn: Knitpicks Telemark, 1 skein black, 1 skein grey
Malibrigo, 1 skein for lining

Needles: 2 size 3 circular needles

Modifications: This hat is the hybrid of the We Call Them Pirates hat and the Jack Sparrow's Favorite Socks pattern. I didn't make an modifications beyond Janelle's modifications.

Review: Guess what? I love this hat! So does Meaty. As does Pork Chop. Linned with yummy Malibrigo left over from this hat it is just perfect for a pint-size pirate. I might have to make a few more in the near future. I'm thinking black with pink skulls for Pork Chop. What do you think?

The Princess Hat

Way back in the fall of last year I promised a friend I would knit her children some hats. She has teenage boys, and they wanted hats with skulls. Her toddler son needed a hat with skulls as well, so he could be a big boy. But her young daughter? She thought skulls were "yucky." So a princess hat was in order. Something with pink of course. I was unsure of what pattern to use. I debated hats with flowers, or ruffles, or ribbons. But they didn't seem right. Then I was on ravelry (big surprise) and I discovered the knitted tams from Knitty. I decided that knit in black with pink design it would be perfect for the stylish princess.

Pattern: Three Tams, Tam C

Yarn: 1 skein Knitpicks Telemark, black
1 skein Malabrigo, varigated pink

Needles: 2 size 3 circular needles

Modifications: I used size three needles to make a child size hat. I blocked the hat on a child's plate instead of a dinner plate.

Review: I am beyond pleased with this hat. It was great fun to knit. I love stranded knitting almost as much as I love lace knitting. And stranded knitting seems to go so quickly. It only took a few nights to knit. I love how the black background makes the pink pop!

I wish I had blocked it a little more aggressively. Maybe on a desert plate instead of a child's plate. But it's all good and I love how it turned out. I hear the Princess likes it too. So all is well in the land.

Mission Possible Check-In

With almost a month and a half of 2008 over and 12 tasks to complete let's see how I'm doing with Mission Possible.

1. Dad's Aran Sweater - no change

2. Sheldon x 4 - One down, three to go

All the knitting is done for this project. There's just some seaming and stuffing to do. I've already finished Meaty's turtle. Bird is so jealous she asks me everyday if I've finished HER turtle yet. There's a lot of pressure to get these done.

3. Grandma's Christmas Shawl - no change

4. Evil - no change

5. Hats x 4 - DONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I did this one! They're knit, blocked, mailed and on the heads of the recipients! I'm extremely happy with the way they turned out and I'll blog them later, as Sweet Pea permits.

6. Hemlock Blanket - Soaking

I won't tell you how many days it's been sitting in that bowl of water.

7. Darling - no change

8. Socks for Meaty - I pulled the yarn out of storage for these

9. Forget Me Knot Socks x 4 - no change

10. Blue Sweater for Bird - no change

11. River Rock Scarf - no change

12. Socks for me - no change

So I've finished one task, I'm well on my way to finishing two more (Sheldons, and the Hemlock Blanket). Not to shabby considering this is my year to get nothing done. To celebrate I cast on for a sweater the other night (notice this sweater is no where on my mission possible list *shrug*).

I cast on for my current post-pregnancy/monster nursing boobs size. This might be a mistake. I won't be this size forever, but I don't know how long I'll be this size. Theoretically I could lose the weight before I finish this pattern giving me 14 inches of positive ease in a sweater meant to have 8-10 inches of positive ease. It will be huge. But if I finish before I lose the weight I'll have a sweater that is depressingly too tight, like everything else in my closet. So do I frog and knit a smaller size even if it means the sweater could be too tight for a while. Or soldier on with the larger size even if it means the sweater could be entirely too big by the time I finish?

And in today's dose of baby sweetness: BABY KISSES!

Good-bye 2008

I've read that you can kiss a year of your life good-bye when you have a baby. For an entire year you will not accomplish much, especially during the first six months. Your hobbies (and house) will collect dust. You will see your friends less often. You will look back at the end of the year and not be able to recall how you spent it.

At first I thought this was silly. I've had three children prior to this baby. Three years of my life can not be gone. I did things. I'm sure I did things. Then I tried to remember how I spent the first year of Pork Chop's life. It's a bit blurry. Then I thought of the first year of Meaty's life. Hmmmm...another fuzzy period. Bird? You guessed it. I don't remember much. I'm so glad I took pictures.

In light of this new evidence I've decided to stop fighting this phenomen. Instead I will embrace. I will blog as much as I can when I get the chance. Probably not daily like I would like. But when I can I will. I will knit as much as I can when I can. I will clean when I can. I will make dinner daily because I have to (the kids get awfully whinny when I fail to feed them at regular intervals). But laundry? I'll get to it when I can.

Part of embracing the phenomenon means I will no longer allow myself to feel guilty over the things I don't get done. If I accept the nothing as inevitable there's no reason to feel guilty. I'll just do my best. I won't feel guilty about knitting I don't get done, or blog posts that never get written. 2008 will be the year I got nothing done. And that is alright.

And because I don't think I'm allowed to post any more if I don't include a sweet baby picture...

Why Ravelry is a Bad Bad Thing

I'm not big on Elizabeth Zimmerman. There. I said it. You now know some of the darker aspects of my soul. I do not worship at the alter of E.Z. Sure, I read Knitting Without Tears. But it didn't change my life, or my knitting. She's got some ideas about knitting. Some good, some not as good. I have never felt the need to knit a pattern of hers. Until I got on ravelry.

Ravelry, for my non-knitting reader (Hi Dad), is a knitting resource website. Sure there are message boards there, but I barely have time to type things here. When do I have time to type things there? No, I use Ravelry as more of a pattern resource. You type in a pattern and you can see all the versions the users have made of that pattern. You can see all the different yarns they used. You can click on the yarn and see all the different patterns people have knit with that yarn. Since the only thing I can do during the endless hours I spend nursing is move a mouse it is very easy for me to spend hours in Ravelry. Look at that pretty sweater *click* Look someone made it in blue with cotton *click* Look that cotton also makes the cutest baby sweater *click* Look that sweater looks even better in handpainted wool with butterfly buttons *click* Look that handpainted wool comes in a "Chocolate Cherry" colorway *click* Look that Chocolate Cherry looks great as socks *click*

You can see how I lose hours of my life just surfing, drooling over the hand knits. This becomes a very bad thing when I get fixated on a pattern. I find patterns I never knew existed and suddenly MUST.KNIT.NOW! Last fall it was the February Baby Sweater.

I wanted this sweater. I NEEDED this sweater for my impending infant (similar to impending doom but cuter). I looked at this sweater every day. I looked at all the versions of this sweater EVERY.DAY. It became an obsession. I knew my green Kool-aid yarn was destined to be THIS.SWEATER. All I lacked was the pattern.

I looked in all the local bookstores. They must share my opinion of E.Z. because they don't stock her books. I looked at my LYS. Again, no E.Z. I was trying to support the local economy but instead I simply lost precious weeks looking for the book. I was forced to order it from the internet, and being poor and unable to spring for overnight delivery, I was forced to wait another ten days for the book to arrive in my mailbox. TEN DAYS!

But arrive it did. And knit I did (remember, this was last fall when I was merely pregnant and had time to sit and knit. I think of this time as B.T. - Before the Tiny Terrorist). A few days later I was the proud owner of a February Baby Sweater.

I know, you're bored with the background. Quit Rambling, you're thinking. You're ready for the good stuff. I promised cute Baby pictures. Bring on the Baby! So here it is. One cuddly baby in a February Baby Sweater.

Isn't she the sweetest cuddliest baby in her sweater? Don't ask the details. It's been too long since I actually knit this. It was my Kool-aid yarn. Might have been a size 5 needle. Maybe a 4. I don't remember. I do remember being unimpressed with the pattern. Don't get me wrong. The results are worth suffering through it. But I found Elizabeth Zimmerman to have an unusually high opinion of herself and her own cleverness. She needed a tech editor. She doesn't mention the button holes until halfway through the pattern, although they are needed throughout. She also mentions casting on the stitches for the arms, but not at the point in the pattern when one would actually cast on the stitches. Is she merely trying to keep the knitter on their toes? Who knows. But I was unimpressed with her. There. I said it. But again, the results were worth suffering through the pattern.

And in further baby cuteness

This baby adores her brother. I think the feeling is mutual.

Feeling Honored

I love blogging. I really do. I know last year my lack of blogging might suggest otherwise. But last year was a fluke. I love blogging. I love taking pictures for my blog. I love thinking in words with more than one syllable for my blog. I love when something funny happens and I just know it will make the perfect blog post. I'll admit I'm not as good at it as I used to be. If you read the archives some of my old posts are pretty funny. Some are even a bit creative (anyone remember Boyd?). Lately, *shrug*, not so much. I'll blame that on sleep deprivation and hope in six months it gets better.

My very favorite thing about blogging is the fact that people read my blog. People actually pay attention to the things I say (because goodness knows no one around here listens to me). People actually care enough to comment. People actually like my blog enough to come back.

Someone even likes it enough to give me a "You Make My Day Award." Marie Grace of Marie Grace - Yarn Slayer mentioned me amoung the bloggers who make her day. She did mention that lately she's been reading to see the baby. Not my witty word or fabulous knitting *cheeky grin* but the baby. Who can blame her when my latest child is this sweet?

Thank You for thinking of me! I love your blog and all you designs. A well written pattern can be hard to come by and your are always extrodinary. I'm flattered you even know who I am.

As for bloogers who make my day...

Big Booty Knit - She's a bit like February 29th. She only blogs about once every four year. But it's a masterpiece when she does. I miss my knitting buddy.

Here in Topeka - My other knitting buddy. And I love her kids.

She knits shizknits - Her pictures are amazing. My blog is better because of her example.

Shut Up I'm Counting - Freaking Hilarious!

Knit Together.. Wonderfully Made - Her quiet faith inspires me. And the puppy's pretty cute too.

There are so many others I love, but I'm trying not to mention people who've already gotten the award. Sharing the love so to speak. I don't comment as much as I should on the blogs I love, but most days I'm reading while nursing, and it's all I can do to move the mouse, you can forget typing. Sweet Pea is ready to nurse as I type, so I guess I'm done for now. This

will have to wait another day.

Mission Possible

As I mentioned, I've joined the Mission Possible Revolution. The challenge is to choose 12 things in your stash, it can be UFO's or stashed yarn, or fiber for spinning if you do that kind of thing (which I don't...yet). And those 12 chosen items must be completed by Dec 31st 2008. Now completed is a rather loose term. Completed can be finished, or repurposed for another project, or donated, or even set on fire (I love this option). I have quite a few UFO's that are over a year old. So this might just be the kick in the pants I need to finish them. Here's my list

1. Dad's Aran Sweater - When last we saw the sweater it looked like this

It still looks like this. I haven't touched it other than to pack it for the move since last March. I am a bad daughter. MUST FINISH DAD'S SWEATER.

2. Sheldon x 3 - These were going to be socking stuffers for my children in 2006. That was two Christmases ago. Meaty still asks where his "yarn turtle" is. I am a bad mother. MUST FINISH TURTLES. And since I've added a child it is now Sheldon x 4.

3. Grandma's Christmas Shawl - This is the one piece of Christmas knitting I didn't get to finish in time last year. The edging on the shawl was never-ending. I actually gave Grandma a present containing a half-knit shawl still on the needles. I am a bad granddaughter. MUST FINISH GRANDMA'S SHAWL. And really all that's left is blocking.

4. EVIL - *shock* *gasp* *horror* I you're an old timer you already know what evil is. A little background can be found here and here. I really should knit the one thing my Husband has asked me to knit for him. I am a bad wife. (Although I fear "complete" in this case might really result in setting on fire)

5. Hats x 4 - One of these hats is the grey hat I mentioned the other day. I told a friend of mine last fall I would knit hats for her children. LAST FALL. I am a bad friend. Although I finally finished the last hat yesterday. They just need blocked, photographed and into the mail they go!

6. Hemlock Blanket - yet another project that is stuck waiting to be blocked. I must block the blanket.

7. Darling - I was knitting this for Bird. It is such a sweet little sweater. All I had left to do was sew on the buttons and embroider the flowers. Then in a fit of "helpfulness" The Greatest did laundry while I was in the hospital with Sweet Pea. I swear the sweater was in the "Don't ever touch this laundry or I will kill you, and I mean it!" pile, with my brand-new-very-expensive-nursing bra. But somehow both were washed and put in the dryer. The nursing bra is none the worse for the experience, the sweater is another story. I wept over the shrunken/felted sweater. Then I realized that while it was no longer a 4T sweater it retained its shape and proportions and is now more of a 12 mos sweater. It will be the perfect little sweater for Sweet Pea this winter. All I have left to do is sew on the buttons and embroider the flowers.

8. Socks for Meaty - He is so happy when I knit for him. I've been meaning to knit him some new "Blue Boy" socks for ages now. I've got some blue Tofusies that would be perfect. I just need to sit and actually do it.


9. Forget Me Knot socks x 2 - I was knitting these socks for the girls so they could have matching hand-knit socks. Plus the pattern is really cute. I knit Pork Chop's socks months ago and she was wearing the. Then one was accidentally felted in the wash (I'd like to blame The Greatest again, but that would be a lie). So I need to knit her a third sock. And knit a pair for Bird. And a pair for Sweet Pea if I have enough yarn left over. See what I get for procrastinating. Forget Me Knot socks x 2 has multiplied into Forget Me Knot socks x 3.

10. Blue Sweater for Bird - I've had some blue yarn in my stash for ages with the intention of knitting a sweater for Bird. Last night we were trolling ravelry and she picked out this sweater, but I'll have to swatch and see if the yarn likes the pattern. If not? We'll keep looking. But she will have a sweater with this blue yarn.


11. River Rock Scarf - Finally something for me. Katrina and I have planned to knit this scarf together for ages now. I've got the yarn all ready to go. She sent me the beads. I just need to send her the yarn so she'll be all ready to go. I *heart* knit-a-longs with Katrina, so this might be my favorite Mission Possible Mission.

12. Socks for me - I'm not sure which sock yarn I'll use, maybe my STR in Nodding Violet, maybe my Knitpicks, maybe my Tofutsies. I'm not sure. I don't know what pattern yet, but I'll bet it's something from New Pathways for Sock Knitter because I'm dying to knit something from that book. But I WILL knit a pair of socks for myself this year.

So there you have it. My Mission Possible list. I can't decide if it is too ambitious with two sweaters, and a third unlisted sweater in my knitting queue. Not to mention my knitting time is severly limited by this little terrorist.

She's so cute. She's my favorite little terrorist. (Why oh why wouldn't she sleep last night?) Heaven forbid she ever team up with Boyd. Together they could ruin me. But despite the obstacles I'm looking forward to the challenge.

So Lucky

I've been knitting. Just a little. A few stitches here. A few stitches there. Later when I have more time I'll tell you about Mission Possible. The short version is you pick 12 projects that are lingering about and finish them in the next 12 months. I'll give you a rundown of my 12 chosen projects later, but for now all you need to know to understand my final point is the grey hat.

The grey hat. The dreaded grey hat. I've been working on this hat since last fall. I've frogged it and re-started more times than I care to count. The hat is a gift so until it is gifted I don't want to get into more specifics than that for now. But the project is the bane of my existence.

Over the weekend I had a brilliant stoke of genius and realized how to accomplish what I want to do with the hat. I've been trying one technique. I've been beating my head against the wall trying to knit the hat a certain way. I had it in my mind that the hat must be knit one way. When I realized there was a simpler, easier way to do what I was trying to do I was thrilled, and relieved. I can finally finish the hat.

So I've been knitting on the grey hat. A few rows here, a few rows there. It is a painstakingly long process. It isn't like when you get to sit down and spend a solid hour knitting and at the end of the hour you have six inches of knitting to show for your endeavors. Instead my progress has been glacial. But I'm almost done with the knitting (the finishing will take just as long, but that is a separate topic). I was six rows of crown decreases from being done. Then I set my knitting down to nurse the baby.

I should have known better. I should have tried to finish the hat while I nursed. But I have the new Fablehaven book (Thanks Dad) and I've declared nursing time to be reading time. I should have known better than to leave my hat on the couch. I'll consider this lapse in judgement to be induced by sleep deprivation. Blissfully I rocked and nursed and read unaware of the horrors that were taking place in the other room.

Lest the blame fall on her, Bird interrupted my peace to tattle-tale.

"Meaty has your pointy things!"

*gasp*

"You mean my knitting needles?"

"Yeah!"

*shock* *horror*

"MEATY PUT DOWN MY KNITTING!"

Again I returned to my rocking and nursing and reading. I figured he had picked up my hat, maybe tried it on. He's a big boy. And he knows better. What harm would he have really caused to my knitting.

It was so much worse than I imagined.

After the baby was nursed and in bed I folded two loads of laundry. I put a new load in the washing machine. I washed the dinner dishes. With fifteen minutes to go before bedtime and Sweet Pea still napping mercifully quiet in her crib I decided to steal a few minutes to knit.

That's when I found it.

My poor knitting.

What had they done to you?

Meaty had removed the needles from the hat. The needles were lying on the other side of the couch. Several rows had been ripped out. The yarn was a knotty mess. He knew better than to do that to my knitting.

I could have cried.

I could have yelled.

I could have killed one small boy who was sitting quietly in the corner watching me with huge eyes, waiting for me to punish him.

Instead I sighed.

That's all I have the energy to do.

I could have cause him bodily harm had I had more functioning brain cells.

Instead I sighed.

He is one lucky boy indeed.

Still not believing his luck he went quickly to bed with no protest at all.

The entire affair was not without a silver lining.

Feeling the Urge

NO, not for another baby. I'm doing just fine with the one I have thank-you-very-much. No, the urge I'm feeling is less obvious and maternal. It is one I think many a knitter often faces. I feel the urge to dye some more yarn.

I did do a rather fabulous job dying the first yarn I tried to dye. (It knit up beautifully too. See.

I'll post pictures of Sweet Pea in the finished knit soon.) And as far as you know that was my only foray into the treacherous world of hand dyed yarns.

But I have in fact been holding out on you. My second attempt at dying has never been recorded for posterity. I'd like to say the missing record was merely an oversight on my part. That the yarn was dyed, the triumphant photos were taken and the lack of actual publishing to the blog was simply, oh I don't know, let's call it pregnancy induced forgetfulness. But the brutally honest truth is the attempt was shoved to the back of the closet because the attempt was an undisputed failure. It was not miraculous proof that I am a dying savant, that everything I touch turns to woolly gold. Not the second yarn I dyed was, there's no delicate way to put this, the yarn I dyed was fug yarn.

I'd like to say it wasn't completely my fault. I was looking at all the beautiful hand dyed yarn online and thought I could try it. All these independent dyers were creating beauty. I wanted to create beauty. All these independent dyers were creating art. I wanted to create art. I could see what I wanted to make in my minds eye. I wanted subtle shades of blue, much like the shades of green I'd created. But I also wanted shades of deep chocolate brown for interest. I could see the yarn so clearly, all deep blues and browns mixing together. It would have been a masterpiece.

I didn't know how to make brown with Kool-aid, so after reading this Knitty article I armed myself with some food dye and saran wrap. I knew I could do it. I was so confident. To avoid a disaster with the brown I soaked the yarn in vinegar so the reds and blues would take up at the same time. I carefully created different shades of blue dye. I kept careful notes of what I'd done so I could replicate the job on all the skeins (did I mention I was dying a sweater's worth of yarn so I could knit myself a sweater?). I carefully applied the dye to the yarn. I was so fearless. And the result was fug.

My blues are pastel and mostly the same shade, not the five different shade of blue I tried to make. The disaster I hoped the avoid with the browns came to fruition after all. My browns are more reddish brown, or purple, not so much the deep chocolate brown of the dye. I made fug. There's no way around the truth, I made fug yarn. I discovered I do not in fact have some savant talent for dying yarn. And the yarn smelled so bad while it was cooking. I will never dye yarn this way again. In fact as I looked in disappointment at my fugly yarn I vowed never to dye yarn again. Did I mention I ruined a sweater's worth of yarn? An entire sweater's worth of yarn. What a senseless tragedy.

So the urge to dye yarn was gone from my system. My mojo had disappeared. The desire for my own hand painted had not bothered me until today. I don't know if the smell of baking wool has finally dissipated from the home, or if the memory of the fug has finally lost its sting, but as I made the kids a fresh batch of orange play dough I was inspired.

I color my play dough with Kool-Aid. The same stuff I used to create my beautiful green yarn. I'm sure I could dye the sock yarn in my stash sherbet orange. A lovely shaded solid sherbet orange. And it would smell like Koo-Aid, not burnt wool. I can totally do this. I'm not crazy right? It's not just the sleep deprivation talking right?

Actual Knitting

Imagine that. Actual Knitting. On my knitting blog no less.

But it isn't knitting I've done recently, there's not much of that around here. It's knitting I knit for the baby over the summer but never managed to blog. Besides it's more fun to present the baby knits with a baby actually in them.

Pattern: Frankly I knit this months ago. I've temporarily misplaced the pattern. It was a vintage baby sweater pattern by a company I don't recognise, using a yarn I'd never heard of. And the hat was just sorta knit, no pattern.

Yarn: Debbie Bliss Cashmerino, 4 skeins

Needles: I can't remember at this point, either my 4s or my 6s. I'm such a bad knit blogger.

Modifications: I knit the sweater in one color instead of two (but that means nothing without the original pattern for reference). I used different weight yarn and larger needles to get gauge. But it turned out so cute. I just sorta winged the hat. I used the slip stitch pattern from the bodice of the sweater and knit a hat. Once you've knit three or four hats you just sort of know how to knit a simple round hat. The human head only comes in one basic shape.

Review: I know, I know. I've stated more than once on this blog that giving a new mother a cashmere baby item is cruel and unusual punishment. But I couldn't resist making one for my own child. Those rules don't apply when you do it to yourself right? The call of the yarn was too strong to resist. It's perfection. It really is. So soft, it sings as it flows through your fingers. The stitch definition is perfect. I adore this yarn and temporarily forgot why it should never be used for a baby item. The first time Sweet Pea threw up on it I remembered. But in the mean time she is such a cuddle bug in her pink sweater. I think she likes it. Unlike Bird, she doesn't scream when I put it on her. Much to my dismay she hates hats, not just knitted hats, all hats. She does scream when the hat comes near her head, so the hat won't see much wear. Overall I'm very pleased with what I've created for my fourth child. She looks as cute as I daydreamed she would. Sometimes I wish the cold season would last longer in this part of the country so I could justify more baby sweaters. But even if it did I'm too tired right now to knit them.

And just because I love this picture.

Birthday Thoughts

Not my Birthday, but my Little Man's. He turned Five on the 11th. I know, Bad Mommy, the 11th was over a week ago. Everything is running late around here. I'm late with my Thank Yous, late with my Birthday thoughts. I may never run on time again. Heck, most days I'm lucky if I get to brush my hair, let alone get somewhere on time.

There was a period in my life when I thought I wanted a family with all girls. I babysat a family with five little girls and they were the sweetest things on the face of the planet. The house was just filled with fluffy pink things. It was a girly haven. And those tiny girls all had such sweet dispositions. I loved babysitting for that family. I thought nothing would be better than growing up and having my very own troop of ribbon-wearing, doll-playing, sugar and spice and everything nice girls.

When I was pregnant with Pork Chop I decided I wanted a little boy. My Mom had a boy first. It seemed like the thing to do. I bought blue outfits declaring I could put blue on a girl if need be but my fingers were crossed for a boy. I day dreamed about a chubby smiling bald little boy in blue. This phantom boy was so real in my mind. Our ultrasound was disappointing. The baby would not show us what it was. We were there for hours and tried many thing to get the baby to move, but the baby would not budge and share its secret with us. I went home and sobbed into my couch. I knew only a girl would be that stubborn and uncooperative. My dreams of a bald little boy were shattered. Of course the moment the nurses handed me my beautiful baby girl I decided once again to never have boys. Who would want a boy when my Pork Chop was so beautiful? Girls are just so sweet and pink and fun to dress.

When I was pregnant with Meaty I wanted another girl. But I also knew this particular baby was not a girl. I was too sick. The baby kicked to hard when Eminem came on the radio. The Universe never gives me what I want. I just knew this was a boy. And the ultrasound confirmed it. He was there on the monitor proudly showing what he'd grown all by himself. He was all boy. I, once again, went home and sobbed into my couch. My mental picture of my family filled with pretty little ribbon-haired girls was shattered by this new blue spot. What would I do with a boy?

Of course the moment the nurses handed me my tiny little man I immediately forgot that wispy dream of a family of girls. Who would want a family with nothing but girls when you could have a tiny little man? And though he rarely admits this out loud, The Greatest was so proud to have a SON. If I had been given a girl I would have missed out on this

I would have missed out on finding the "Bug Jar" in the house with the lid lying across the room, not knowing if the jar was empty when it entered the house or if I had cause to fear. I would never have known the pain of stepping on army men (those plastic weapons are surprisingly sharp). I would have missed Hot Wheels and Airplanes and Trains. All things blue and loud and destructive. I would have missed Meaty. And my life would have been sad indeed.

This birthday is a big one indeed. He will start school in the fall. I'm excited for him, and I fear for him at the same time. I hope we will both be ready when the day comes. There's so much that is going to change in his life. So much he is going to learn and do. I'm sad to see him grow, but proud of him for growing so well. How I love my little man.

The universe has never given me the child I wanted, but it always gave me the child I needed. And I will forever be grateful.

Soon

I've got blog posts in my head.

I've got pictures in my camera.

What I don't have is more than five minutes to sit down and put the two together.

Or enough sleep so that when I do get the two together I can actually string a coherent sentence together.

Soon.