Where, oh where, did it go?

A year ago today I was being whisked away rather quickly in an ambulance headed for the hospital.

Declan was held safely in my mom's arms.


We decided long before he made his appearance to try a natural birth. Yes, that means no blissful epidural, no escape into painless peace. I wanted to feel everything, to see if I could do it. And feel I did.

But it was very beautiful. He was born in a birth center, with natural light flooding the room as I pushed with all my gut wrenching might. He had no desire to make an appearance, and clung feebly with both fists. I remember begging my midwives to tell me the pain would be over when he was finally born. I needed to hear that in order to make it five more minutes. This was before she decided my cervix needed a little tug and was rewarded with a bite. I bit her like I've never bit anyone, I couldn't stop myself. Her boyfriend saw the teeth shaped bruise and was quite amused when she told him one of her mothers bit her. Someone even had the presence to take a picture at that precise moment, thus making the memory live on forever. I would post it, but I happen to be very nekked.

Drake was two full weeks overdue, and Declan was also hanging in there attempting to top that record. Just like Drake a NST showed he was no longer "thriving" and needed to be given a little nudge. Apparently I have a very comfortable uterus. They decided that breaking my water would be the most natural form of induction, and I was game. I have never seen such a creative use for a crochet hook. Maybe that explains my aversion to the craft. It worked however, and threw me into almost immediate labor. A labor my midwives assured me would be very quick as my cervix felt very "ripe." I've never been more proud of a body part.

They were wrong though. It was a full 13 hours later that my uterus finally decided it'd had enough, and Declan was thrust out into that bright, beautiful room. The relief from pain was immediate and I was in awe as I saw his downy covered cone-shaped head, his fists tightly clenched, his legs quivering in indignation. Only then I realized he wasn't breathing, and was making no attempt to do so. He didn't want to cry when nudged , or even when given a much firmer one. I remember asking over and over if he was okay, if he would be okay. They started to get that panicked look, and moved around frantically getting out the oxygen and giving him light slaps to the bum. He finally made a weak kittenish sound, and started breathing. He didn't give a full cry for an entire week.

I was so amazed at how great I felt. I could walk!! I could move around without pain!! I still looked 8 months pregnant, but who cares, I felt great! I was in the shower about an hour afterwards and eating lunch not long after that. It was then I started feeling those pesky cramps again. I thought that was over with? And then a huge gush ,which when I looked down, discovered was blood. Blood everywhere. I was having massive hemorrhaging. My midwives quickly cleared the room and got down to work. An entire hand was shoved up into my nether regions only to pull out blood clots the size of which I'd rather not remember. That may explain why I then promptly passed out cold for 15-20 minutes. They broke stick after stick of vile smelling things trying to get me to come to. I refused. I also continued to bleed an enormous amount. They lost count how many liters I was down. An ambulance was called and I was wheeled briskly away while being talked to, yelled at, poked, and prodded. At one point I had five IV's and had the marks to prove it for weeks afterwards. Apparently when they are trying to save your life they don't care so much about being gentle. I also at this time conveniently decided to have a seizure.

To this day, they still don't understand what happened. I am a "medical mystery." Got to love that title. My blood levels were so out of whack the doctors kept running them to make sure they really were what kept printing out. A transfusion was ordered. The color of my face blended in quite nicely with the white sheets.

And then magically the next day I was fine. My body decided it'd had enough playing with the doctors and decided to shape up. I didn't need the transfusion after all. I did need iron pills for a few months to help out, but I didn't have any lasting effects.

We took Declan home from the hospital he wasn't born in and were amazed at the little creature. His hands were huge, they looked like they should be attached to a two year old. His long toes curled under when you would caress his feet. His hair was soft, shiny, stick straight. He smiled in his sleep if you rubbed his belly, and couldn't resist rubbing those long fingers with razor fingernails all over his face. He still does that.

This past year has been one of the most delightful of my life. Drake simply adores his little brother, and the same goes in return. Declan's eyes light up when Drake comes into a room, his face breaking into a grin. He has such a mischievous smile, accented with a dimple in one cheek. His front teeth came in, huge for his little face and with a perfect gap between them. He caresses my arms when I'm putting him to sleep. He's perfect.
















I had no idea a year ago what he would be like. Would he be just like Drake? Would he look more like me or the hubby? All we knew at the time was that he had a penis he was very proud of and he liked to sleep during the day and kick at night. Now we know he has a great sense of humor. He has a grin to greet me every morning as he attempts to head dive off the bed. He has no fear of hurting himself, yet is very timid with new people. He is his mama's boy, and yet he loves his daddy like no other.


He was worth it all. We love you peanut.

Because I knew it would happen at some point

Not too long ago my MIL took Drake to Disneyland. A very excited Drake, who counted down the days every five minutes as if things would suddenly change if he just counted ONE MORE TIME. They did not. But finally the big day came, and we all piled into the car and drove them to the airport. It did things to my heart I didn't think I could handle watching her take his little hand and lead him off to the big bad airport. He turned back once to wave goodbye and then disappeared behind the automatic doors. I fought back tears as the hubby drove off, valiantly concentrating on my knitting, one row at a time on my sock.

He called three times the first day, twice the second, and none at all the third. Well, except to call and ask if it would be okay to get a Star Wars "blaster" because grandmama made him. He knows me well, that I've never really seen Star Wars, and thus had no idea what a "blaster" was. It's a gun. I figured it out too late to object.

Before he left I was working on the striped sweater for Declan and he told me he wanted an EXACT copy of that sweater, with a few changes. He sketched what he had in mind on this trip and came home with a pretty good drawing. It was totally different from Dec's. I had already bought the yarn. A design conference ensued, tears were shed, but we worked out our differences, making the most of the yarn I had bought. Pictures coming soon. (Hint: His most pressing concern was that it had both a Nike & Umbro logo)

Drake & his grandmama came home with lots of pictures and stories of their trip, but I heard about it all mostly from Drake. My MIL stopped by this weekend on her way to a birthday party and I got to hear more stores.

They spent the first two days in Disneyland & California Adventure, but on their third day decided to head to Legoland. It was, according to Drake, a very long bus ride. Three days it took to get there. They climbed on and settled into their seats right behind the driver. Drake turned to look at grandmama and proclaimed:

"You know, if it wasn't for Martin Luther King Jr., you'd have to be sitting waaaay back in the back of the bus right now. And I'd be sitting here."

For those of you who haven't seen my MIL, she does indeed have very dark skin, she's from Jamaica after all. I'm sure she handled it all very well, as every eye on the bus stared at her to see how she reacted.

We had a great laugh about it....I knew it would come up at some point, just not so publicly.

Curly girl no more

Yesterday, in a valiant attempt to burn our beloved house to ashes, I left my straightening iron plugged in and turned on. All day. 16 hours. Everytime I walked up into my room I thought I smelled burning, but because I've had sinus problems for the past five months I thought it was the smell of my own snot. The hubby was the one to finally sniff around enough to figure it out. I am left with a straightening iron whose plates are permanently branded with old hair gel & straightening goop. Yes, I've given up on being a curly girl. No, not with having the occasional curly day, but to be a true curly girl you have to commit to curly hair. Every damn day. I'm just not there yet. Yesterday was my first straight day in two weeks and Declan did a double take when I came out of the bathroom. He reached one little hand up and carefully stroked my hair. I think he likes it.


He has been loving life lately, four teeth came in all at once and he is back to his happy smiley self. With a bit more bite. His favorite activity now is to stealthily crawl across the the room to the hapless victim sitting on the floor. In one quick motion he pulls the shirt up, hunches over, and takes a bite. Yum. He thinks it's hysterical to watch us scream and wriggle, trying to get away from those sharp choppers. I try so hard to look at him very serious like and tell him in a firm voice - NO! He sees right through it though and dares to laugh in my face. He knows I'm a sucker for that smile.



He's also walking.....with a little help.


















Sing it with me "We all need a little help from our friends....we get by with a little help from our friends.....we get high with a little help from our friends." Ahem. Right. Anyway, except for when Drake accidentally ran over his finger with the thing, he is loving it. He hasn't quite figured out how to turn yet, so he does straight shots across the living room, running into something, and waiting patiently for one of us to come and turn him around.


I have finished this:



















Drake immediately ordered one for himself. Not, I believe, because he likes it that much, but because Dec has one he thinks he deserves one also.

And so it begins.

It's my own raglan pattern knit in Dale of Norway Baby Ull, size 2 needles. Yes, I am crazy.


Holy mother of god. I left the curling iron on again. Maybe I should rethink the curly girl.

Two thumbs up

Only half a day late, not bad for me. And I even have a great excuse. I couldn't find the necessary black shirt. The one that glides over my chest and hides the mummy tummy. I even did laundry in my desperate search only to discover it on the floor in my closet hiding among the yarn. When we decided Declan needed to move into his own room because everytime we breathed he'd wake up I had to give up my yarn stash space. But it had do go somewhere, so I stuffed it into my closet. And by stuffed, I mean it holds up my shirts. Who need hangers & a rod when you can just lay them on top of piles of yarn? Very cushy.

But anyway, back to my Pink Fling. I love it. It's tight, but not too tight, the sleeves hit in the right spot and it has just the perfect curve to it. I'm still debating adding a button to the front. I keep hearing Stacy & Clinton's voice in my head...."Lock & Load." And god knows I've got a chest that needs locked & loaded. What do you think? Lock & load or hang loose?
































It gets two thumbs up from Drake.
















Before you make any harsh judgements about the hair, let me explain. I've fought the curly hair my entire life. I forced my mom to blowdry it straight from the time I could talk. I have vivid memories of poor mom hunched over me trying to get my masses of curls straight, while I screamed because I saw a kink. I had the book "Curly Girl" recommended to me, and I wasn't sure whether to be offended because they thought I needed a serious hair intervention, or be happy because they thought I had great possibility. I'm seriously hoping it was the latter. That's what I'm telling myself. The book says give it three weeks before making any judgements and I'm on week 1.5. Halfway there. I'm still not sure about it, but let me tell you, my mornings are much better. I've always hated taking a shower knowing the next half hour will be consumed with a loud dryer blasting at my head. And the thing scared the crap out of poor Declan. The first time I turned it on with him in the room his eyes got wide & round, the lip dropped and he screamed like a banshee. I think he thought it was going to eat him. Or at least have a little nibble.

It's a personal thing though, getting over my fear of the curls. Letting myself believe that curly can be just as sophisticated and pretty as straight. I can have 100 people tell me my hair looks great curly, but inside I keep thinking "Yes, but wouldn't it look better straight?"

After my last post, I thought long and hard about what I was missing. And I realized what I'm missing is me. ME. It is so easy to get caught up in being a mom, a friend, a wife, a housekeeper extraordinare, and life gets to be all about working, and cooking and making sure there's the extra gallon of milk in the fridge so we don't run out. Because that would be terrible, wouldn't it? Running out of milk = end of the world. Just ask Drake.

It's so easy to let all those things catch up to me in one big ball and envelop me, take me captive. It's so easy to let my life revolve around everyone else, making sure Drake has his organic peanut butter so he doesn't have to buy that terrible school lunch. Making sure the hubby has clean gym clothes, even if it means I don't have a bra to wear because I didn't put a load of my own clothes in. I'm running in circles for other people and I don't know where to find myself in that circle. It scares me.

It's so hard to find the balance though. When I do leave the kids with the hubby for a fifteen minute shopping trip to buy the precious milk I feel guilty. Why? I don't know. I need to figure it out though, because it's going to eat me alive. So I took my first step today and told the hubby I want to join the gym. I'll go when the kids are still in dreamland and the hubby hasn't gone to work yet. I need to make some "me" time, and that's the best way I know how right now. Put on some spandex and go pass out on a treadmill. I figure the worst thing that could come out of it is that I'll finally loose the last five pounds of Declan weight.

Declan approves.

When bad things happen to good yarns

First I want to give a shout out to a few peeps out there. To the person who found me by googling "milf with loose stomach & skinny legs." Is that really what makes me memorable? And last but not least, to my wonderful hubby who is genius enough to build our computer from the ground up. Just not the very-important-to-apparently-only-me camera software that lets me download the pictures off the damn camera. Thanks, babe. Smoochies.

Yesterday I was trying to spend some quality time conversing with the older boy and we were talking all about presidents. Thanks to President's Day & the public school system he's been learning quite a lot about the presidents, past & present. For instance he can tell you how many teeth George Washington had (one, which he later lost), and who freed the slaves. He then informed me he wanted to be the president when he grows up. I told myself that he doesn't, really. Really? And then I asked him why he wanted to be the president. He looked me straight in the eyes and said "So I can have a bowling alley & swimming pool in my house! Of course, I'll have to do a lot of paperwork & boring stuff, but then I'll just go bowling after." I don't think he's ever even been to a bowling alley let alone tried to spin that brick of a ball down a tube trying to take out all 10 (or is it 11??) pins at the end. He has NO IDEA. Thank God.

I myself have been feeling a bit restless & like I'm running in circles. Is it just me, or does everyone go through those periods in life? I can't knit/spin/sew/etc enough to keep my mind from racing & my hands from feeling like they're not doing enough. I sit in my house knitting, reading a book, playing with my boys, cleaning, making dinner and somehow I feel like I should be doing MORE, MORE, MORE. This happens every so often and it drives me nuts. I haven't figured out a way yet to turn it off, but I sure do get a hell of a lot done when I'm feeling like this. Or else I just go lay down & take a nap with the babe to make it stop. It is a horrible panicky feeling, like I've left one of my kids in Safeway and remember on my way home. I do a visible check (Drake, check! Declan, check!) everytime we go anywhere because it took me so long to get used to having TWO kids to take care of. What, then, am I missing?

Drake is lucky enough to have grandparents who really actually care about him, the opposite of mine growing up. My only memory of my grandparents actually being fun, or even interacting with me is my grandpa buying me a lime ice pop at the museum of flight to shut me up while he spent another 1/2 hour staring at a plane hanging from the ceiling. They had no clue what to do with us. Drake's grandma took him to Disneyland last week. He had the time of his life and came home with Mickey ears that light up and flash. I saw him from a mile away at the airport when I went to pick him up. He is a lover of all that is tacky. While he was away the hubby and I also decided we needed a getaway. We stayed at a little cabin a block from the beach. It was awesome.






















And no, that is not my hair, it's a tree. Yes, I do use product and if my hair did manage to stand on end like that I'm quite sure the hubby would've left me at home. While I'm not fit for public viewing at times I hope I'm never THAT bad.

And onto the naughty yarn. Can you believe it had the nerve?

It took me a full day and many, many unmentionable words to subdue the yarn into a nice neat ball. It's lucky it's such beautiful yarn. I won it in a contest here, the only thing I have ever won in my life. Only fitting it bit me in the ass on it's way to submission. It is 100% cashmere from Hipknits, and the color is amazing. While it's not as soft as I would think 100% cashmere to be, the color more than makes up for it. I have since knit it into a little shrug, my own pattern, I'm calling Pink Fling. Very cute. Pictures and possibly a pattern coming tomorrow. I love it especially because I have a ton of fingering weight yarn and only so many socks one can make. It excited me to no end finding something else to make with it.

It doesn't take much around here.

Another one bites the dust

Can I just say how glad I am that Valentines day is over? A few years ago after getting into monster blow up fights we banned Valentines day from our house. Don't get me wrong, pink is still my favorite color and I'm a sucker for those little candy hearts. But the need to have a bouquet of flowers delivered along with a ginormous box of chocolates & attached teddy bear is no longer allowed. Because it grew to be expected. And when it didn't happen there was much arguing and hurt feelings. We learned the hard way that setting high expectations over silly things does not lead to a good outcome. Even if you get 12 dozen red roses delivered to your office you're still left looking for the box of chocolates.

We have had the best Valentines days ever since we banned it.

A few years ago we decided to rent a tandem bike and bike trailer and rode all around here. Not only were we met with smiles from all who saw us, we were also greeted with stopped traffic & people leaning out of their cars to point at us. You see, they decided to let us rent what I referred to as the Harley Davidson of tandem bikes. It was huge, had flames painted on the sides, and also happened to be bright banana yellow. In other words you could spot us from a mile away. Add to the fact we had a bike trailer strapped on the back and Mr. Drake had his hand poked out the hole waving to everyone and you had quite a scene. The hubby took the controls & manned the front spot most of the time, so I had every hair on his head memorized by the time we were done. It also meant I got to "pedal" quite a bit, meaning resting my feet on the pedals & letting him do all the work. He's twice my size, that means he should do twice the work, no?

About halfway through he offered to let me take control of the beast & sit in the front. What I failed to take into account is that while you might be sitting in the front, the bigger person still controls the bike. Whatever way they lean the bike leans. So while I was turning the handlebars AWAY from the ditch the hubby kept leaning TOWARDS the ditch and that is exactly where we ended up. In the ditch. And that was the last time he's ever offered to let me control any moving vehicle. Heh.

Best Valentines ever. No chocolates or flowers necessary.

So........you remember Chicago, the one out of Calmer mentioned a few posts ago? A little froggy visited my house and ripped her out. I wore it for exactly one day and hated it with a passion normally reserved for cleaning the toilet. Worse, I was embarrased to wear it. That just doesn't work with very expensive yarn. So I decided that anything made out of the yarn will remind me of that special time when I was in labor with Declan and I gave myself permission to rip. It has been reknit into the Phyllo Yoked Pullover from Knitting Nature. I made a few alterations, including knitting the body & sleves in the round rather than flat & then seaming. Knitting anything with a yoke just screams "Knit me in the round" so I listened. And I gave it a bit of waist shaping as I like to think I have one. The sleeves ended up a little shorter than I normally do, but I really like the outcome. A fun knit, and really quite easy.















Please forgive the morning "I haven't had a shower yet" hair. And bad picture.
















I've got a busy day ahead of me, which includes stocking up on all that V-day chocolates on clearance. Guess it's not so bad after all.

My little helper

My little helper loves to help out his good old mama. He carries my yarn around for me
















And makes sure it is nice & moist.















Makes for great knitting.

He would love to help me out even more by carrying my knitting needles around for me, but I've gotta draw the line somewhere.

He just discovered how to pull himself up to standing this week, and man has it rocked my world. The places that were previously safe are no longer. The ottoman & couch used to house a great deal of hidden treasures: knitting, books, toy cars, and random choking hazards such as stray buttons, tapestry needles...you name it. In other words - sit at your own risk. When we bought a new couch last year we kept my stashing habits in mind and got a rather big one. We each get our own cushion, and because I was pregnant at the time I got two. One of my cushions was usually piled high with pink wool & Yarn Harlot books, but I just used the other one for sitting and life was good. My stash is no longer safe however, and now I have to find a new home for it. Please tell me I'm not the only one using the couch as a resting spot for WIP? I hate change, even little change, and that means I hate thinking of a new spot for my stuff. I'm sure the hubby will be happy as he's been impaled with a dpn more than once when carelessly throwing himself onto the couch.

Because of my little year long haitus there are a lot of knitting projects to show & tell. A LOT. I'm laughing because I went back and read my archives and most of the knitting projects I was working on? Stuffed in the back of my closet. I tend to start things and never finish them. Okay, I'll confess. A good portion of my stash fits into this category. BUT if I ever need to clothe my family in a hurry I've got it covered. Most things are at least half finished.

Here's another one of my spinning/knitting projects. I bought this gorgeous merino/silk roving & just started spinning. And then I realized I was making thread. I ended up having to ply it four times to get a yarn that wouldn't take me the rest of my life to knit up. My mom says I'm a freak.














Maybe I agree. But at least I'm a freak with pretty things.

Technology loves me

Or better yet, it loves the new usb cord we're using. I guess the old one was from around 1982. Possibly 1983. We just got a new camera for christmas and for a while it was very happy to download the pictures onto the computer. And then one day when I plugged it in a message popped up saying it couldn't recognize the device, and if it keeps happening to get a new device. Riiiigghhhttt. Like me plop down another $300 just so you can see the damn device.

Anyway, my technology loving hubby tried plugging the camera into everything with a hard drive we own (which is many) and on every singe one of them it offered the helpful advice to get a new device. So we tried the cheapest fix, a new usb cord. And now the camera and computer love each other again.

So here is the long awaited picture of my hand dyed handspun:















And here is what I made with it:
















I looked all over the internet to find a copy of the pattern to buy, but couldn't find it. So instead I printed out this picture
and used it as my guide. I'm just about finished with the second one and the pattern has been reduced to chicken scratch, but I declare my efforts a success. If I did it again I'd use smaller beads, but I started it when we were snowed in the house and I couldn't convince the hubby that smaller beads were worth risking life & limb for. We later decided the Starbucks down the hill WAS worth it, and consequently got stuck on the hill. Heh. We probably deserved it.

Got Yarn?

My Drake never fails to amaze me with his lack of interest in the good stuff. Good stuff to Drake = fast cars & cartoons. Good stuff does not = yarn. Or fiber. Or even *gasp* STR for gods sake. So when told him we were making a quick stop in Tacoma on the way to grammy's we intentionally did not mention it was for this. Because we are smart parents and like to delay the whining for as long as possible.

We parked in the closest free parking available because I am cheap and parking $ takes away from yarn $. As soon as we walked in the door his little ears & eyes started checking the place out. He knew something was up. There were spinning wheels set up and everyone was doing that thing with their hands. Knitting. And talking. Knitting and talking at the same time. Which, while he sees on a daily basis, he understands that most normal people don't do. He started asking questions at that point, but we quickly hushed him with harsh threats, like no cartoons. The minute we walked into the vendor room though did not fail to make his thoughts known. "YARN??!! More YARN?? You have enough yarn. Mom, I demand you to walk back out. You are not allowed to buy more yarn."

Think he hangs out with his dad much?

I guess to a kid who lives in a house stuffed full of yarny goodness a room full of yarn is pretty unimpressive. No matter how big said room is and how much yarny goodness is possesses. Being the wonderful hubby he is, he quickly scooped both kids up and went on a walk. Living in Seattle you can't go on a walk without passing a Starbucks, so they stopped in to treat themselves. And that is where my dirty little secret spilled. Damian went to the counter to order himself a well deserved treat when Drake piped up "Mom needs a grande white chocolate mocha, half decaf. Organic milk."

Oh, god. Busted.

I did finish seaming up Chicago mentioned in yesterday's post. And while I'm not really convinced I like it yet, I'm gonna keep on telling myself I do. It was while doing the buttonholes that I realized something. The directions on the button band said to knit 3, cast off 2 and repeat till the end. Wait a minute here....whaaa? That's......1,2,5,6,9,10....18 buttons?! 18 freaking buttons? So today I get to go try and find 18 buttons that will transform this thing from blah to amazing.

I'm surprised it took me this long to realize. I'm the type who does not like surprises. When I start a book I read the first chapter, turn to the end to read the last chapter, and then proceed onto chapter two. I have to make sure it ends the way I think it will, and if not prepare myself to accept the wrong ending. It just dawned on me last night that's why I love Julia Roberts movies so much. There is no need to fast forward to the end, I already know what's going to happen.

Nap Time

Doesn't that just evoke calming images, peaceful babes sleeping with their eyes tightly shut? Apparently you've never been to my house. This nap time thing is highly overrated. Because IT DOESN'T HAPPEN. And when it does it's such a screaming, kicking, eye gouging mess I usually end up needing a nap. I don't think Declan ever got the memo that babies are supposed to nap. They need the sleep. NEED.

He's always more than happy to fall asleep breastfeeding. Ahhh....milk. He'll even sleep while I tiptoe into his room. But the second I bend over to lay him down in his crib those big eyes pop open, the bottom lip drops and the screaming begins. So being the nice mommy I am I thought, okay, I'll just pick him back up and cuddle him till he falls asleep again and then lay him down. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. Because the picking up, cuddling, laying back down, and ensuing screaming never stops.

He's playing games with me.

Oh, but that screaming, it rips my heart out. We've finally come to a happy medium. I stand next to him with my hand on his belly while he flails about, kicking, screaming, and scratching his face & my hands. But eventually he falls asleep. And usually stays asleep for a good 45 minutes. Never mind it takes us about that long to get him knocked out. *sigh*

But those 45 minutes are blissful. I run around doing all the things I can't do with a babe attached to one hip. Fun things. Like laundry. And dishes. And I sometimes manage to get a little spinning thrown in there. By the way, she now has a name. My spinning wheel that is. I've decided my house is already overrun with boys, no need to throw another one in there. And so she's a SHE. And her name is Gwen. Short for Gwendolyn. Very medievil & fitting, no?

I finally finished this:


It's Chicago from Rowan 37, made in very yummy Calmer. I lurve that stuff. It's soft & stretchy and makes me want to roll around in bins of it. I finished the front, back & sides only to discover I didn't like it. But I could NOT bring myself to rip it out. I worked the ribbing on the back while I was in labor with Declan. Those are my memories trapped in the stitches. I couldn't just trash them. So I decided I didn't like it because it was too long and took a bit out to make them shorter. I just blocked it last night and today I'll seam it up and make myself like it no matter what. Even if it just gets to hang in my closet for years & years. One day I'll pull it out and show Declan the stitches I made when he was about to make his grand entrance.

Because he's really gonna care.

Successes(es)

(Imagine a picture of beautiful hand dyed, handspun here. Imagine me cursing technology for not allowing me to actually post the picture)

So instead I'll post a picture of one of my greatest successes. Introducting Declan....


















Don'tcha just want to eat him alive? I'm pretty proud of his older brother too of course. :) Unfortunately he's at that age where in every picture it looks like we're pulling his fingernails out and making him sit on spikes. He looks positively tortured. He's really honestly trying to smile only, well. Here....
















See what I mean?

But back to the handspun. You've been wondering what I've been up to in my absence? This my dears....











Has kept me quite busy. I haven't decided yet if it's a he or she, or even given the poor thing a name. For now it's "Kromski." Or better yet, "Mama's guilty little pleasure." My first attempts on it were quite sad. I had no clue I needed to draft the roving and sucked an entire thing up with a few spins of the wheel. Now that was some thick yarn. But I have to say I've got it pretty well down and am working on a pair of socks from yarn I spun & dyed myself. There would be pictures so you guys could oogle if only I didn't hate technology so much. Or if only it didn't HATE me so much.

Better get back to mama's guilty little pleasure before it starts feeling neglected.

Um, yeah....HI

There is absolutely no excuse for not writing for ohhh....A YEAR. None. I am sitting here on the floor with my laptop and suddenly I had a post forming in my head. And I realized that I do have a sad, sad, ignored blog out there just waiting for such a thing. Boy #2 otherwise known as Declan is trying to eat the USB plug-in and is closing in on 9 months. 9 much more enjoyable months than those spent in the tummy. He is an absolute joy. I'll post pictures once I get more accustomed to writing on this thing again. And that will hopefully be soon.

Life is very different than it was the last time I wrote, and by different I mean MUCH BETTER. I no longer work at a brain sucking job, hauling around an enormous belly and trying my hardest to keep the boy #1 happy and well adjusted. He is now happy and well adjusted because his mom and dad are. I am doing a bit of consulting and working from home, but it is because I WANT TO. I am sad I let an awful job control my life like it did. I am sad I let it undermine my self confidence and doubt my abilities. Because I am damn good at what I do.

My days are now somewhat lazy and busy and shower-less but that's only because I am so caught up in keeping little man entertained it makes me forget about all the other less important things. And knitting does not fall in that category of less important things. Cooking dinner? It does. While I might have been absent from the good old blog most definitely does not mean I've been absent from knitting. I have been a knitting fool. You thought I was talenting because I could drive and knit? Try breastfeeding a squirmy baby, watching What Not to Wear AND knitting. At the same time.

Because I am adamently schedule-less I make no promises as to the regularity of my posting I will try my hardest to post more.

It feels good, I miss it.

With big kicks and bumps and all kinds of bad tricks....

I found this so interesting...it takes the words from your blog and puts them into this spiffy thingy....you can think these guys for it.

I also find it very interesting the things people search for in google. For instance I have been hit by many many horny teenagers looking for "Girls Skinny Dipping" " Skinny hot girls" "Skinny girls with big boobs" and the best? "Skinny girls with breastpumps." HA....I bet they were frightened when a KNITTING blog came up.

My favorite word right now from above? Mom. Lately I'm really feeling like one. I've come to the early conclusion that things change when you have two. One is portable. Drake's always up for a late night run to DQ if there's a blizzard involved. He's just as happy camping out at his desk eating dinner as he is at a table. He goes eagerly to all our friends houses and entertains himself by playing cars/trains/planes, torturing their dogs by playing frisbee & ball for hours, and then falling asleep on their couch if he finds himself too sleepy.

I am not a mom with a Mary Poppins purse. If Drake finds himself hungry/thirsty/bored when we are out, it's pretty much tough shit. He's learned his mom won't pull a juice box & granola bar out of her little purse. His mom says wait till we get home...it's won't be much longer. And if it does end up being much longer I can easily be suckered into a milkshake or stop at Cold Stone. No, he does not have it rough.

I have a feeling that all this will have to change with two. I guess I'm going to have to up the purse size because I can barely fit my cell phone in there let alone a diaper. And I AM NOT carrying a diaper bag. Nope. Wanna know why? I have a secret desire to be a MILF. You heard me. You know, those moms who everyone oogled at on the bus when they came to pick up their kid? We would sit with our noses pressed against the grimy window to catch a glimpse of what color they had their nails painted that day, and how they walked just so, their hips swinging slightly under the strain of the skin tight jeans. The hubby thinks I've gone too far with this one, and I'll embarass Drake, but we all need something to dream about, right?

And yes, MILF's do too knit.

Mr. TY-rone is growing along at such alarming speed that I feel like my stomach is no longer a part of me. I can be sitting, reading a book, minding my own business when suddenly a leg kicks up so violently it knocks the book right over. How weird is that. I was doing actually pretty good with enjoying being pregnant until yesterday. Yesterday WAS IT. I am sick and tired of being pregnant. I am done with pulling my shirts down constantly lest I risk flashing my office mates with a strip of white I am positive they have no desire to see. I am sick of climbing into bed all ready to pass out and being terrorized by someone who decided it's time for a little game of "kick mama in the ribs until she cries." I am tired of sitting down and having something insisting on sitting my lap.

Everyone says that once the babe drops it gets more comfortable. I beg to differ. Once the babe drops you now have a head between your legs. For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of feeling such a thing imagine attaching a bowling ball to your crotch and take a walk around the block. You tell me know it feels. And because I grow extra special large babes he still has the magic ability to kick me in the ribs. That is talent.

I am getting very excited to meet the little guy. In my head he'll come out looking exactly like Drake did, and we'll just have two of them. Realistically I know that can't be, but I have a feeling I'll be shocked when I see him, because he won't be what I'm expecting. My very nice midwifes moved my due date up by two weeks, because it appears it's been wrong the whole freakin time. The good news about that? I'm now 35 weeks and counting.


Right now I'm working on.....


Just imagine it in deep blue and sunny yellow. Too CUTE. I've made the sweater almost twice. Unfortunately all I have to show for it is 1/2 a sweater. I was at my mom's happily knitting away watching the superbowl and munching on fried chicken when she RUINED it all by saying it was huge. I held it up to Drake's stomach and it indeed was huge. Babies in Norway must be gigantic, because I'm having to make the 3 month size to be worn by my babe when he's hopefully around 9 months.

More than you ever wanted to know.....

Something I stole from Stalker Angie and thought looked like fun. And keeps me from being a looser with no posts. heh


layer one
name: Sam or Samantha
birthdate: 7/11
birthplace: Seattle Washington
current location: about 20 minutes away
eye color: blue with green around the middle
hair color: brown righty or lefty: right
sign: Cancer.....so fitting of me. innie or outtie: normally an innie.....at this time It's stretched as far as it can go!!

layer two
heritage: 1/2 French Canadian from Newfoundland, the other 1/2 a mix of all over Europe.
shoes you wore today: cute black flats with a black flower on them.
your hair: shoulder length....naturally curly. I straighten it most of the time though.
your weakness: Coffee. Chocolate. Anything pink or cute.
fears: Having anything happen to my db or kiddo's
your perfect pizza: cheese with artichoke hearts, mushrooms, pineapple, can. bacon & green peppers. YUM
one thing you'd like to achieve: Right now natural birth. I had a contraction the other night and it scared the hell out of me.

layer three
your most overused phrase: cool, dude, no worries.
your first waking thoughts: ooohhhh godddd...it's morning already?? SNOOZE
the first features you notice in the opposite sex: their nose & eyes. And hands.
your best physical feature: I have loong skinny legs. Which for a long time I hated because they looked like bird legs.
your bedtime: 10ish
your greatest fear: Didn't I already answer this one? Anything happening to my db or kiddo's
your greatest accomplishment: finishing college after having Drake.

layer four
pepsi or coke: pepsi. But really I hate soda and drink it once or twice a year. single or group dates: I like em both. And done lots of both.
adidas or nike: ummm....don't really care!! I rarely wear true tennis shoes. chocolate or vanilla: lately vanilla for some odd reason. Usually chocolate cappuccino or coffee: cappuccino. But really a mocha or latte. I have one every morning!

layer five
smoke: never have
cuss: WAY too much. I mean WAYYYY too much.
sing: I hum constantly, but have a horrible singing voice.
take a shower everyday: Most of the time. Unless I hit snooze a few too many times.
have a crush: not right now. Have had lots of them.
been in love: Yup.
went to college: Yup. Got my BA in Finance & Economics
liked high school: I loved my Junior year. I finally had boobs and felt like I fit in.
want to get married: Yes!! September 2007
believe in yourself: Most of the time. I believe I can do something, but feel guilt for what will happen if I do/don't do it.
type with your fingers on the right keys: Yup. Since 6th grade typing lessons.
think you're attractive: Most of the time. I'm having a hard time coming to terms with growing up.
think you're a health freak: I go through phases. We do eat natural/organic foods mostly, and go through times when I excercise like crazy.
get along with your parents: We've always gotten along pretty well. My mom is my best friend, and my pops I love & admire like crazy. We talk about everything.
play an instrument: I've played piano since I was 4, and played clarinet & flute in middle & high school

layer six
in the past month, did you..
drink alcohol: unfortunately, no.
smoke: nope.
make Out: Of course!!!
go on a date: Yup.
eat an entire box of Oreos: Nope. Ewwww....all that white stuff in the middle yucks me out, but tastes so good.
eat sushi: nope. Never have, never will.
been on stage: nope.
been dumped: nope. I've been lucky enough be have been spared ever being dumped.
gone skating: not in this condition
made homemade cookies: yup, Drake loves making them.
fall in love: everyday.
go skinny dipping: does in the hot tub count? That's a weekly affair. I have gone skinny dipping at lakes/ocean a few times.
dyed your hair: nope. My past magenta hair taught me a lesson

layer seven
have you ever...
played a game that required removal of clothing: maybe
if so, was it mixed company: Yes
been trashed or extremely intoxicated: Only twice. And they were baaaddd. I learned my lesson pretty quickly...I only have 1-2 drinks at a time now! been caught doing something: Yes I have. Even by the police once
been called a tease: Yes
changed who you were to fit in: Yes, but never extremely

layer eight
age you hope to be married: 27
numbers and names of children: Drake is 5 and the bean has a fabulous name, still in utero.
describe your dream wedding: lots of alcohol, dancing, laughing how do you want to die: in my sleep. Even though death scares the living crap out of me
what do you want to be when you grow up: I'm really not sure yet. I'm not a planner, just take things day by day.
what countr(ies) would you most like to visit: England, Scotland, Ireland.

layer nine
number of men i have kissed: I don't think I could count. I had fun in my high school days.
number of boyfriends you've had: serious, only 2.
number of people i could trust with my life: Quite a few actually.....around 10?
number of CDs that i own: Like 5. I hate buying them!
number of piercings: Just one, my ears. I do want to get my belly button done one of these days. And I'd really like to do my nose. But it freaks me out.
number of tattoos: None. I would LOVE one, but Damian hates them. number of scars on my body: 2 that I can see I had an apendectomy when I was 7, and a little scar under my nose from falling down the porch stairs when I was 3.
number of things in my past that i regret: Nothing....everything happens for a reason. Even if I hate it I know I learned something from it.

OMG. I AM HAVING A BABY

You would think that by now this wouldn't be something I would stumble upon....like finding your husband having an affair, or that you have a long lost sibling. But nope, that's the way I do things....jump in with both feet and then be scared shitless when I realize what's going on. Last night I had my 30 week appointment with my midwife, who made it abundantly clear that very soon I would have a screaming, pooping, hungry bundle of joy in my arms. SHE ASKED ME IF WE HAD A CARSEAT READY!!!! Uh, ya, nope.

You see, I've been measuring 4 weeks ahead of my due date almost my entire pregnancy, and so while I may think I'm only 30 weeks, someone else thinks he's 33 weeks 5 days. And he turned head down to get himself all ready to come on out and meet the world. And while I can't wait to meet the little guy and cover his itty bitty feet with kisses, I'm like, really, really FREAKING OUT. Do we have a carseat? Crib set up? Room to put him in? Well, technically yes to that last question, but the room still happens to be my craft room, with yarn scattered all over. And it's the clean laundry pile room. And the walls are still painted pink & purple (don't ask).

So I'm taking a very deep breath and today I'm facing this head on. The hubby and I will be spending our lunch hour at Toys R Us doing a mad dash throwing things in the cart. Oh crap. Diapers....must remember diapers. (Did I mention I've been having contractions on and off?)

I'm guessing you all are dying to see me in my huge glory....so while they might be taken in a public restroom by yours truly they're the best I could do. Don't harass a pregnant woman.



And so you can see my cute shoes...heh



I'm working on the cutest knitting thing ever, and when I finish I'll post pictures of it for you. It's a surprise. I'll tell you it's a baby Dale of Norway, lavender, and ADORABLE. And for a friends baby girl. Mr. Tyrone has lots of cute knitted things right now....but they aren't purple.

And I'm overwhelmed with the enormity of all the planned projects for the little guy, and yarn bought, and it looks at me everytime I go into the craft room (maybe that's why it hasn't been converted into baby room...I would have to face the yarn demons) There was a bit there where I bought Baby Ull like it was discontinued. Let's just say I had to buy 2 new plastic drawer thingies to hold it all. And they're hiding in the closet from a certain someone.

While right now that certain "someone" just might be the hubby, in the near future I just might have to hide it from someone else. Take a look at this....



Do you see that look of excitement & sheer happiness on his little face? I've trained him well.

Wanna hear something sad?

One day a few months ago I got up the courage to clean out the fridge. And I mean clean. When I was all finished I looked inside and laughed. We had a sparkling clean fridge...with nothing in it. I pulled the hubby in the kitchen to show him "Wanna see something sad?"

Later that day we had friends come over and as soon as they stepped in the door Drake pulled them aside and said "Wanna see something SAD??" He lead them over to the fridge, flung the door open, and stood there with the SADDEST LOOK EVER on his little face. I could have died. Bree VanDecamp would have had a great cover up, but I just stood there with my jaw on the floor laughing. Thank god they did too.

That's like today. I finally decided, goddamnit I need to post ,and my last post was in like NOVEMBER. Does anyone still remember little old me? Except, well, I'm not so little anymore. Or skinny. I'm 7 1/2 months pregnant with a stomach that runs into everything and the other night the hubby told me my thighs were getting a little "thick." He says they're still "small-medium" but we all know where that's heading. You see, I've spent almost my entire life up until this point at right around 100 pounds. And I'm 5'8. So when I hopped on the scale at my doctors and it said 144 I told them to recheck....NO FUCKING WAY!!! Way. So I figured heck, I might as well embrace it. You'd be amazing how quickly I can crush a box for recycling. I used to have to take it outside and jump up and down on it. Now with one crushing blow of my foot the thing is flat.

We have nicknamed this kiddo "Ty-rone" and you have to say it just like that. We really do have a very nice name all picked out, but you see, I'm not telling anyone. Nope. Can't get it out of me. I learned last time that no matter what name you choose everyone has something to say about it. And then I don't like the name anymore. And then I have to cry to the hubby about how it's all wrong. And then we have to pick a new name. And that SUCKS. And besides, how much fun is it to yell "Ty-RONE" with a southern accent.

Believe it or not, my extra room is littered with itty bitty baby socks, and pants and hats...all knitted I might add. I've been going nuts. Did you know you can turn out a pair of baby socks in like 3.5 minutes? Good god, it's insane!!! The only problem seems to be I can't quite remember how SMALL these things are when they come out. I mean, I know somewhere around 6-10 pounds, but like....how small are their little feet? Really?? I keep pumping things out and then the hubby looks at me like I'm TOTALLY INSANE. And then he tells Drake to put it on....and it fits. So obviously they are smaller than I'm thinking.

Anyone have a bebe you want to let me borrow for a few hours? I promise not to poke or otherwise agitate the little guy (or girl)

It's me, the bean

You know, my mom whines all about me on here, but never lets me get a word in edgewise. So, seeing as she's currently guzzling an eggnog latte, I'll sneak on here and say what needs to be said.

She's knitting. That's about all the excitement she lets me in for when the workday is through. She sits in this chair all day at work, typing away (and MAN is that loud in here) and muttering words I'm sure I'm not supposed to hear yet. I just love it when she gets creative if something really goes wrong and I get to hear the really good ones. Like fu**erpants. Just wait till I'm one and repeat that one. I can't wait to see her face.

Back to the knitting. She's even knitting something for me, after finally finishing that darn sweater for my big brother. He just loves it and I get to hear all about how she's supposed to knit ONLY for him, but hey, I deserve some too, right?! So I sent her messages to get on it woman, and she's knitting up a alpaca/silk kimono, pants & booties. Except she sort of forgot how little I am in here. I mean come on!! When she held it up to my big brother and it fit his tummy I knew we were in trouble. I got to hear more cool words then. She remade it so it looks like it just might fit me, and she already finished the back. Way to go mom!! Looks like I'm well on my way to being a designer baby after all.

So, I've got another four months to hang out in here before I make my grand appearance. My mom unpacked all my big brothers baby clothes this weekend and oohhhed and aahhhed over them. Just think how cute they'll look when I'm in them! Now if only she'd make a little more room in here for me, I'm all squished up. And hey, mom. STOP POKING AT ME!! If I'm quiet for a bit that means I'm trying to catch some zzzzz's. Good grief lady, I can't keep up the wiggling act all day.

p.s. Stop whining about your boobs. I think they're cool.

I've decided it's not gas.

Those little bubbly feelings? I think it's the babe!! You'd think after going through this whole thing before I'd be able to seperate the two, but it's taken me a few days for that to sink in. It's an amazing feeling, tiny, obscure, and tickly. It almost makes me want to scratch my tummy raw, and I have to stop in wonder and realize it's a whole nother person. And how lucky I am to experience it. Even if it does mean not pooping for two weeks.

There are times I still forget I'm pregnant, like when I first wake up in the morning and go to haul myself out of bed to turn off the screaming alarm. It scares the shit out of me some mornings to look down and see a huge white bulge shooting out of me. And then I remember. And then I run to go pee, cause, the bladder? Not taking this whole thing all too well.

My boss made my morning today by telling me I looked glamorous. Shirt stretched to the max and all. I then proceeded to show her just HOW glamorous I am by tripping over my own foot, and throwing myself halfway across the room before I could catch myself. In all reality I think I look like a freak of nature. I've recently been compared to an apple with toothpicks shoved in the bottom. By the same woman, I might add. See, I've lost almost 10 pounds since I began this adventure because I cut back on some meds I was taking that puffed me all up. So my legs are back to the toothpicks they started out as, while my tummy & boobs are ever expanding. It's almost like a science experiment.....how much can they hold until they snap off??

I finished blocking my cardigan and now it looks huge. Like HUGE, huge. It has killed any inspiration to seam it all up. Maybe I'll get it wet again and just crinkle it all up in a little ball to see if it shrinks back up and resumes it's normal smaller if slightly rolled look. I'm hoping to finish it soon so I can post some pics....it really is purty.

And Mr. Drake's sweater? We were having a chat on the way home from school/work yesterday about it. He informed me he "really likes it, but would REALLY like it if it had a hood." Cool. It'd have been nice to know that a few months ago. He then proceeded to tell me he thought it'd be REALLY REALLY cool if the hood had some kind of fuzzy stuff inside. Like, he had no idea what exactly, just fuzzy. I'm thinking I'll make the hood seperate from the sweater so he can still wear it while I work on the hood.

Cause at the pace I work at the damn thing will be too small by the time the hood is finished. And then I can just attach it onto the latest sweater.

They don't know that anything is sacred

Kids, that is.

Somewhere around last spring I started a cardigan for Mr. Drake. It was with fuzzy self striping yarn, which I thought I despised, but actually ended up liking. Anyway, I ran out of yarn, got tired of knitting, and ended up pregnant all right in the middle of it's construction.

The Mr. was not impressed.

When I got the urge to knit back I made myself finish that damn sweater. It took me all of 5 hours I think. I blocked, seamed, and wove in all the ends and wala....finito!!

Almost. I forgot about one small necessary item, called the zipper. He wore it for a good few weeks with the top hanging off his little shoulders because mama was a lazy ass. We finally made the treck down to JoAnns to buy the thing and I managed to buy one that didn't come apart at the end. One made for, like, pullovers or jeans. Definitely not for cardigans. So another few weeks passed and we made the second trip down to JoAnns. I managed to get the right zipper this time, and sewed it in all in one night. So what if you can't zip it all the way to the top because it's sewn on just a tad crooked up there.

He wore it with pride to school the next day. It was there that the hubby overheard a conversation between Drake, his best buddy Rishi, and the buddy's mom.

It went something along the lines of:

Drake: "Rishi! Do you see my finished sweater? I finally get to wear it!"

Rishi: "Oh, wow! Your mom finally put the zipper in?"

Drake: "Yup."

Rishi: "You mean you guys went and got a new zipper instead of the wrong one?"

Drake: "We did, and mom even sewed it in for me!!"

The hubby was about to explain this whole conversation to Rishi's mom when she proceeded to tell him how she's heard all about it. How it sat in the closet for a few months, then got finished, then needed a zipper, then the wrong zipper....etc.

Will I ever be able to show my face at his school again?!?! I mean, what other stories has he told?

In other less knitting related news, I went to my Dr. a few days ago for some pains I was having. I felt all crampy and yucky. After doing a thorough check he said I was just fine. Gee thanks....that solves the problem. He then proceeded to tell me that no matter how many kids a woman has every pregnancy is an adventure. Because women are programmed to forget certain things pertaining to the pregnancy. Not the cute little baby at the end....oh no...that's too easy.

No, they are programmed to forget all the pains, twinges, and being horribly uncomfortable with another human being stuffed in their gut.

Things like:

1. Not going poop for TWO WEEKS STRAIGHT. Perhaps, maybe, just maybe, that is where the pains are coming from.

2. Your boobs weighting in at 10 pounds. Each.

3. Running to the bathroom because you have to go pee SO BAD, only to get there and have 5 drops come out. You get back to your desk and realize you really do have to go pee! Run back, wiggle around a little to get the kiddo off your bladder and ahhhh....relief.

4. Pains and twinges every freaking time you move. The doctor says round ligament pain, but common ligaments.....quit whining...will you??!!

If that isn't birth control, I don't know what is.

Sooooooooo

I'm guessing the thing you guys would most like to see is a picture of my bloated, preggo self. Right? You see, that is all I can give you right now.

Last night I was just about to finish the last sleeve on my cardigan. And by last sleeve, I also mean last thing I need to finish. Anyway. I waltzed on down to my LYS to pick up the one stinking ball I needed to finish during my lunch hour only to discover they didn't have anymore. WHAT??? Do they have no heart? I mean, how can they subject a hormonal pregnant woman in heels to that kind of torture. HOW DARE THEY.

So, my day tomorrow is planned for me. I will be driving from store to store trying to find one goddamned skein. You'd think this would teach me a lesson, but I promise you, it won't. My brain was never given the planning cell, and so I tend to just buy what I think I'll need and not give it a second thought. Until I'm knitting away and come to a six inch piece of yarn....that is the rest of the ball. And then I swear, throw, and jab knitting needles into couch cushions (better than the hubby, right??)

I'm obviously just stalling. Showing a picture of my preggo self to the world is humbling. Not only because, well, I'm still coming to terms with it, and shock the hell out of myself when I see my reflection. But because I LOOK TOTALLY 100% PREGNANT. I took a walk around the building the other day and when I rounded the corner and was faced with a wall of reflective windows I thought, wow, look...there's a real pregnant lady walking by me. And then I noticed she was wearing the same shoes. And skirt. And HOLY SHIT that is ME. I must have caught some eyes as I slowly touched my hands to the mound and felt to make sure it really was attached to me. It was.

Can I tell you I recently realized the joy of being pregnant at this very time? You see, I will be eating Thanksgiving dinner with elastic waisted pants on. Think of all that room!!!! And I can just blame it on the baby. Might as well let them enjoy the meal also, right?

Shield your eyes as necessary...












And as if that isn't enough for you...













Also, please note where I'm at in these. Yes, that does happen to be the bathroom at work, otherwise known as my second home.

A true Washingtoneon

I love the rain. Today is our first rainy, windy, grey, day of the season and I'm in love. I took a little jaunt outside just to breath in the fall air. Ahhhh...there is nothing better. And that is why I will always live in Washington. I get so sick of sunshine I just want to curl up under a blankey and read a book. Don't make me go run outside and put my feet in the hot sand...I DON'T WANNA!! Does that make me weird?

It also gives me a good reason to wear bulky concealing sweaters. I thought it was a great thing, until today my boss came and said she had the first person ask her if I was pregnant. She's a rockstar. She looked right at them and said "I really don't know and really don't care. If you want to know ask her." They were so shocked I believe they just walked away, white faced with embarassment. We had a good giggle. Hehe

Us moms have to stick together in the corporate world. There's a whole lot of sharks dressed in suits I'm finding out.

I'm also finding out that if I drink as much water as I'm supposed to I live in the bathroom. Which could be a good excuse to hide away if there wasn't all you can use free hairspray, and someone on my floor that loves to take full advantage of it. If you wear glasses I'd hop the elevator down to the next floor, cause they'll be coated in 3.5 seconds if you step in there. I thought about jimmy rigging the extra tp door to hide my knitting and give me something to do on all those trips, but got a little worried about the janitor finding it and throwing the "pile of string" in the trash. You know, those tampon strings sure are getting out of hand!

I'm now officially banned from the library...they sent me a letter kindly letting me know. You see, I went through a pretty bad period there, a period with about 30 books checked out and no motivation to return them. And when I finally did they informed me I was SO late I now have $75 in library fees. No joke people, $75 freaking dollars. Who's going to pay $75 dollars in fines? Not this someone, that's for damn sure. So now I'm on my buy all my books kick again. This kick seems to happen whenever my library fines get to be more than ohhh, say my electric bill for the month.

So, since my book selection is severly limited I need some advice....what are some good baby knitting books? I'm getting that itch to knit itsy bitsy baby things. You know, little booties that won't stay on, tiny sweaters to be spit up on....that sort of thing. They are so darn cute...who could resist???

Or course, I'll probably have to end up making matching sweaters as Drake will be insanely jealous. But I'm caught in that feeling guilty because I'm taking time away from my original baby. And I'm sure he'll feed on that guilt and end up with happy meals every day of the week. He's smart like that.

You know it's been too long when.....

You go to the blogger site and it doesn't have your blog bookmarked anymore.

You can't remember your login to blogger....bad sign.

Sorry ya'll....I was really having a rough time there for a bit. My hormones took over and I have never wanted to punch/run away/sleep/ignore/whine so much in my life. Well, maybe, but I think I was around 15. You'll have to ask my mom about that one.

Something has clicked and now that I'm in my second trimester I have regained a forgotten something once again, ENERGY. I know the hubby wishes it was sex drive, but sorry, not this week. I'm huge right now, like bloated whale huge. Like I look like I'm 5 months preggo huge. I love to watch the look on my friends faces as I come hauling myself out of the car and introduce them to my belly.

Drake, he compares it to a volcano. Thanks bud.

You know, pregnancy, it's an interesting thing. At first you feel like SUCH SHIT, but you can't really tell anyone because you don't want to tell people too soon about it. So you have to suffer in quiet, and be totally miserable. Then, just when it starts going away and you actually feel like a NORMAL PERSON your belly pops out and speaks for itself. I understand I'm just one of the millions of people who are, or have gone through this, but I can't be the first to question that process.

There are still quite a few people here at the office I haven't told yet...I'm just waiting for one of them to have the balls to ask me. And when they do I have my response prepared.

"That is SUCH an inappropriate question to ask. I can't believe you just asked that"

And then depending on whether I like them or not I'll give em the truth with a smile, or just walk away. Heh.

My knitting progress...well, it's been an off & on affair. I started a new cardigan, Buzz, from Rowan 37














which I am totally loving. I'm making it in a grey-blue, and if I do say so myself it's gorgeous. I showed it to the hubby, and the first comment out of his mouth? I hope you're making an XL. Gee, thanks. I'm not doing the buttons, but instead making two little ties at the top so it can go on the sides of my belly, while it's huge, and still be able to wear it after I pop. I'm almost finished with the right front and then all I have left to do is the sleeves.

We find out the sex of this little one in about 5 weeks (my Dr.'s making us wait too long if you ask me) and then I can start knitting lots of little blue or pink bebe things, which thrills me. They are so sweet. Too bad all a baby does when you try and put the sweet little things on them is scream, but hopefully I'll get to admire them before it decides to poop, pee or throw up on them.