All About the Babe

Not a whole lot of knitting going on these days, but the contest is still on. So if you're out there with an idea, please please send it along! The Lilacs need you!

In other news, my husband and I were talking the other day about baby pics and I realized that the only pictures of me and L'il I were taken in the hospital. So last night he took one after the baby's sponge bath:

It has also come to my attention that I failed to post the Conwy Hat! L'il I wore it the day we broke out of the hospital, so here it is:

And that is all for today :)

The (blood) Pressure is On

On a good day, my blood pressure is 90/70. That's right. Sometimes it goes even lower. I'm practically dead on a normal day, and whenever I get a routine health screen, they always ask me if I'm feeling lightheaded.

Interestingly enough, while everyone seemed pre-occupied with my odd protein dip in June (which resolved itself), the gestational diabetes (ahem) and subsequent premature labor back in July, no one seemed particularly alarmed at a 120/80 BP. You see, that's still in a normal range -- just not for me. But I suppose because there was no swelling, headaches or spots in my vision, nothing could have predicted an elevated post-partum BP.

Our newest is exactly one week old today. Seven days ago, he was six hours old, and I was settling in with my busted-up body for a good night's sleep. Vitals were all in normal ranges, postpartum bleeding, etc., was good, and L'il I was doing great. All quite non-eventful.

Overnight, the BP started going up. Now I usually make a habit of asking, but for some reason, I never asked what the readings were. On Monday afternoon, when the OB (Dr. Good) came by on rounds, she prepared discharge papers for the next day and I was excited about having such a non-eventful recovery. About 15 minutes after she left me to go draw up the papers, she returned to inform me that my BP was rising and that I would require additional monitoring for the remainder of the day and through the night and that I might need some medication to bring it down.

No biggie, right? Get through the night, relax, lower the blood pressure, go home. Not the case.

Over the course of the evening, the BP stayed high. In the morning, the physician's assistant came by to check on me prior to the OB's coming by on rounds. She also pointed out some concern about the BP. When she laid me back to check on my belly, she pressed on the upper right quadrant of my abdomen and I yelped. Uh oh. What do you mean that tenderness isn't normal?!? Isn't it just from being pregnant and having everything shifted and moved and then strained by all that pushing? Nope -- the liver has no reason to be sore from delivery. Time for blood tests.

I'll spare you the track marks that are STILL on my arms from the idiot phlebotomist who couldn't work a butterfly needle right to save her life (she botched the first job and got an inadequate sample -- duh, you went through the vein, dummy, I felt you do it -- and then she came back for more and did the exact same thing. Somehow, though, she managed to get what she needed). Now time to wait.

Later that day, the OB on rounds (Dr. Bad News) came by. I had only seen this one once over the course of my pregnancy and it's never ended well (she was the one on call when I went into premature labor and she kept me overnight when I hadn't expected it. I should note that Dr. Good was the one who put me on bed rest in July and sent me home with a smile).

Now none of this is Dr. Bad News' fault. It's just bad scheduling, I suppose. It could have been Dr. Good, or Dr. Wonderful that had to tell the bored, hormonal, tired-of-being-in-the-hospital mommy that she had another night ahead of her. Hell, I would have EXPECTED it from Dr. Serious.

In any event, this poor woman had to come in and tell me more bad news. Elevated liver enzymes and low platelets. My blood pressure was approaching dangerous ranges and that I needed to go on medication for the short term and stay there overnight for monitoring in case I had a seizure. It all made sense to me at a rational level -- I mean, who wants to go home with a brand new baby, two older children and a bedraggled husband and then have a seizure and end up back at the hospital? (Not to mention that if we had gone home and I had ended up back in, L'il I would not have been with me.) It was sensical, and I knew it. Unfortunately, my hormones didn't, and a serious crying jag ensued -- lasting about four hours. What a great way to relax and lower your blood pressure!

Fortunately for me, my husband kept his disappointment well hidden that night when they came to join me for dinner. The medication was working and I was hovering in the 140/70 range (which apparently is normal, though high for me) and looking good. The vampires would be back at 6 a.m. for another battery of bloodwork to make sure the medicine was doing the trick.

Long story short, it was. We were discharged the next day around 2:30 p.m. by Dr. Wonderful, who pointed out that there are plenty of women who go unexpectedly pre-eclampsic at the very end of their pregnancy, and that what I was experiencing was relatively common. We'll be heading in to get the blood pressure checked on Thursday to see how it's going.

On Friday, while I had L'il I at the pediatrician (still perfect), she had a nurse come to "spot-check" my blood pressure. Still in the same high-ish range, but not dangerous. (The advantage to this is that we all go to the same practice -- its a combo internist/peds group -- so my doctor was right down the hall to run interference with the OB if it was still high.) I felt much better.

Of course, now I've been reading up on this whole issue and before you know it, I'll be diagnosing myself with HELLP syndrome (which I really hope isn't the case). But don't worry about me -- I'll get through it the same way you all plodded through this post holding out for cute baby pics.

So I'll give you three from the weekend:


Still Life: L'il I with Mitered Blankie


"This blankie is so cozy, I could just go right to sleep..."



"Thank you all. I am well aware of just how cute and perfect I am. My Mommy tells me constantly!"

Sunday Bloody Sunday

(Sorry, couldn't resist)

Thanks again to all of you who have left your best wishes and sent happy thoughts our way! Now that we're settled in at home and L'il I (who needs a new blogname) is getting used to the noises and chaos that abounds in a house of men, I have a few minutes to sit down and tell his story.

Those of you who have been following the blog for the past few weeks know that his arrival has been a long time coming. Gestational diabetes (ahem), premature labor and subsequent bedrest and excruciatingly slow dilation finally came to a head (literally) on Sunday morning. If you read my long, rambling post in the wee hours that day, you know that I was not of sound mind at that point. I had been contracting every 10 minutes for three days and was absolutely exhausted. I had been alert since Friday a.m. when I sounded the "yellow" alert with my husband and the strain of watching and waiting had taken its toll. I went to bed sometime between 1:30 and 2:00 a.m. and slept on a towel -- just in case.

For yet another night, I slept fitfully, but made it through the night without making any significant progress (other than the serious nesting jag I had the night before). Woke up in the morning and went back to nesting -- washed some dishes, did some laundry -- before settling in for some internet research on "prolonged latency labor phase" and e-mail checking.

Before too long, all the fluids I'd been drinking kicked in (dehydration and a full bladder impede labor so I had been drinking and peeing round the clock for days). I jumped up to make a dash for the bathroom and BAM! Did I pee myself?

Horrified, I raced to the bathroom with a change of clothes before my kids could come down the steps and start the teasing (I can only imagine what two little boys would do). But it just kept coming. And then I knew. D-day had arrived.

I was nearly as horrified when I called the doctor and DR. SERIOUS returned the call. Oh no. Sunday was supposed to be Dr. Wonderful! Dr. Serious told me to get my affairs in order and head over to the hospital and she'd take care of letting Dr. Wonderful know I was on my way (whew). Woke the hubby and the boys, took Zee and the Sniffer to the in-laws and we alit to the hospital.

To make a long story short, I had made ZERO progress dilating. Dr. Wonderful arrived and I asked if she wanted to use this opportunity to reschedule our date with pitocin. She laughed and ordered the drip. The very nice anesthesiologist talked me into an epidural and put that in and the waiting game started.

We arrived at the hospital at 10:30, got the drip going sometime between 11 and 11:30 a.m. and the epidural went in around 1:00 or so. Just before the epidural, a cervical check showed only moderate improvement -- 4 cm. Ugh.

Now I should say that I'm a spoiled pregnant woman. Zee and the Sniffer came after incredibly short labors and swift dilations (and water that broke at the hospital and not on the floor at home). Pitocin is pain in a bag, and the fact that it wasn't working quickly was making me mad. Granted, the epidural provided some relief from the pain, but the wait was excruciating. Not to mention the fact that L'il I kept falling off the monitor, which freaked out the Muggles and had them turning me from side to side constantly.

Almost three hours after the epidural (around 3:45 or so, I think), the doctor, my nurse, hubby and I were talking and my wonderful husband asked why no one had bothered to sit me up and try letting gravity do its thing. The nurse explained that the babe's heartrate kept falling off the monitor and Dr. Wonderful pointed out that they could always put me back on my back but it was worth a shot.

And so I sat up at 4:00 p.m. Sitting pretty at a full FIVE cm, 100% effacement and a baby sitting at 0 station (right there and ready as soon as the door opened).

At 4:10 p.m., I was hit with what I call "pushing pressure" -- the kind where there's no question what's going on. Hit the nurse button before whimpers gave way to sobs and Dr. Wonderful came in like a whirlwind and announced, "And now here's a change!" I don't think she even put KY on her glove to check and then said, "Oh my. Plus two. That was FAST. Do NOT push. Whatever you do, do NOT push. I have to get gowned and get my table. Do NOT push. I'll be right back."

And right back she came (I think everything was sitting outside my room), they managed to slide me down to the foot of the table, feet went up and FINALLY I could push. Now keep in mind that what was happening is all a bit spotty to me, but I would guestimate that this whole transition from being moved to a seated position, blowing through five cm in record time and getting ready to deliver took about five minutes. I remember seeing Dr. Wonderful come in tying on her mask, laying the drape over my knees and giving me the go ahead. After that, it's only pain and counting.

I have only one statement to make this long story a little shorter:

3 contractions + 4 pushes = full baby delivery

Now before anyone rolls their eyes and says, "We should all be so lucky," I'd like to point out that it's no picnic to dilate 5 centimeters in 5-10 minutes. Sure, I may have only had to push a few times, but I had days of labor and then a furious finish. This may be my third baby, but it hurt more than the others and once again the epidural did nothing for that part. I suppose this justification is unnecessary, but I feel the need so work with me :)

And so, after weeks of dilation (remember, I have been holding at 1 cm since mid July), we finally got to see L'il I.

And he realized that his head made it through delivery, and this seems to have delighted him to no end. (Hubby told me later it was a yawn, but I like my story better, LOL)



And he looked around at the folks in the room.


Before finally getting to meet his Mommy. (And I mean finally -- I didn't get to touch him for about 20 minutes while they cleaned him up. One of the nurses was particularly stubborn and even though my OB kept pointing out that they needed to bring him to me, she must have been deaf or tuning her out. For the record, that's Dr. Wonderful.)


He got his picture taken with both parents:


And then he got to nurse a little bit (a real natural, I must say) before the paparazzi arrived (my mom, aunt and uncle, father-in-law and, of course, his big brothers -- who got to see him first).

L'il I weighed in at 4 lbs, 13.2 oz and measured 18.25 inches. His size dictated that he be taken to the NICU for evaluation (even though he Apgared at 8 and 9) for two hours. So I visited with company before everyone cleared out to let me rest for a bit before he came back to me.

I will tell you one thing: L'il I may be a skinny little thing (have you ever met me? It makes sense) but he's sturdy. He's already holding his own with his brothers.

The Sniffer adores him:

And Zee is content, too (though way too cool to say so).


Tomorrow's entry: The (Blood) Pressure Goes High for Mom.

Without Further Adieu...

... may I present L'il I, who joined us on Sunday, August 12 at 4:35 p.m. after three days of labor and a hearty dose of pitocin after my water broke early that morning (a few hours after that last rambling post).




He gives new meaning to his blogname -- he's "L'il" alright ... he weighed in at a whopping 4 lbs, 13.2 oz -- but measured 18.25 inches long. He's sturdy for being such a peanut, and the pediatrician has dubbed him to be one of the healthiest little people she's seen.

I will post the birth story (and my blood pressure story!) tomorrow or later tonight for those who are interested. Thanks to all who stopped by to send good wishes after that "Wendy-is-clearly-uncomfortable-and-ready-to-pop-so-she's-rambling-way-more-than-usual" post on Sunday morning!

Still Cookin...

Despite the fact that I've been having contractions EVERY TEN MINUTES for the past FORTY-EIGHT HOURS, I'm still here at home with no baby yet. Good thing, too, because Dr. Serious was the one on call today! I know because I called this morning just to make sure I wasn't missing anything important ... after all, this little guy is, well, little, and I don't want him burning unnecessary calories (or weight!) in a prolonged latent labor phase.

But you know what? Dr. Serious is completely different when you're in labor. I swear. She (for once) totally understood the concern and said that as long as he's bumping around and wiggly (which he is) he's fine. Told me to eat, eat, eat all day ('cause they won't let me eat anything once I go to the hospital -- been there, done that) and try to rest as much as possible. Pretty normal stuff, actually (remember, this is baby #3 for me -- I've just never had them be quite so stubborn once they decide to vacate. Both older boys were super-fast labors and deliveries. I've heard all of this before). She recommended hanging out at home until I got the gut instinct to head to the hospital; urged me to trust my instincts but to call her if anything at all changed or if I had any other concerns or questions.

But then -- get this -- she blew me away six hours later by calling me (unpaged) just to check and see how I was doing and to see if anything had changed. Turns out she was headed in to evening rounds and didn't want me to worry about bugging her if I wanted to go and get the ole cervix checked (remember, I was 3 cm on Wednesday and two days of active contracting has to make some progress). I opted to stay home for a nap instead (at this point it was 4 p.m.). I didn't really sleep, just rested restlessly (?!?) for two hours. Once I got up, the contractions passed for a bit before kicking in a little later.

Zee and I ran up the street to get some last-minute things for the hospital bag (like another bottle of face wash and camera batteries) and that seemed to help a bit. However, shortly after dinner, the contractions have kicked in again. They are more intense now, hence my writing this entry at 12:45 AM (I am NEVER up this late). My husband has launched his nesting mode.

I'm upgrading to an Orange Alert based on all of these factors. Dr. Wonderful is on call tomorrow, so my plan is to make it through tonight if I can and call her first thing in the a.m. if we're still chugging along status quo. Since she wants to induce on Wednesday, I'm hoping she'll spring for meeting me at the hospital tomorrow and setting the process in motion. If it continues through Wednesday, I think I'll lose my mind.

In the meantime, no news from me here for a day is actually good news. Zee or Hubby will be a guest blogger to let everyone know the news once L'il I has arrived.

P.S.: I finished the second baby Conwy, but you'll have to wait and see it being modeled by the babe (camera is packed in the hospital bag just in case we have to go tonight and I'm too tired to dig it out anyway)

The Beat Goes On

As promised, I'm back this afternoon for yet another post. I'm still at home, though this morning I'll certainly admit that I wasn't that sure I'd make it past the early afternoon without summoning my hubby home. A three-hour nap did wonders, and while I'm still contracting away, it looks like we'll make it through afternoon and early evening -- at least. Who knows what tonight or this weekend will bring. Works out well because the doctor on call today is not one I particularly care for (though it's not Dr. Serious). Dr. Wonderful is on call on Sunday, so we'll see.



I got a little more knitting done this afternoon. One wee Conwy sock. Another will be started tonight after dinner.






I should point out that the colors are just not showing up well in these photos. This is (oddly enough) "Peter Pan" by the Wendy brand, and is a soft synthetic blend (which I normally don't like) filled with pale blues, yellows and greens. The band on the Conwy hat was done in some leftover Baby Ull that I had from earlier in the year when I knit Courtney's Basil blanket. I didn't think I had enough for another full hat (even baby size) so I sought out a complementary yarn. The owner of my LYS gifted me the yarn for the babe ... so L'il I can wear a little bit of Cloverhill and Ms. Chris on his first day out in public (the hat and socks are designed to coordinate with his coming home outfit).

Contest?

Let me say first that I've never reallyl done a blog contest. I've seen them, and even participated here and there, but I've never done one. So I apologize sincerely if this one is lame.

You see, I need a pattern for this yarn:





This is Nature's Palette sock yarn in the "Lilacs" pattern. Lilacs have a special meaning for me -- they were my grandmother's favorite flower and I some of my fondest memories of her revolve around this flower. She had gorgeous lilac bushes that would explode each spring with blossoms and we could fill our arms and baskets and vases and still leave the bushes full, it seemed. She also had a lovely carnival glass vase that we would stuff full and put on her dining room table under her chandelier. This yarn is absolutely gorgeous and the subtle varigation really does look like a lilac bush in full bloom.

So ... I need to do something spectacular with it. There are two skeins, and almost 400 yards. I'm a petite girl (5' 2"), so I don't do large wraps. I don't think it would do this sock justice to make it into socks.

Here's the plan. Today is August 10. From now until August 30 (so we all have plenty of time to plot and scheme and do things like give birth, LOL), I will be looking for ideas on what to do with this yarn and this is part of the contest. But you gotta comment to enter.

Some guidelines:

• Leave your suggestion for the Lilac yarn in a comment. All suggestions earn commenters an entry in a drawing that will be made at random in early September.
• The person who submits the design I choose also wins a prize.
• Other prizes may be awarded as suggestions reveal themselves.
• Additional comments (one per post, please), earn extra entries in the drawing -- 1 per comment.

It's that simple. Probably a lame contest, but I hope to get some good ideas for the yarn, meet some new knitters and maybe grab a few new readers along the way. I also hope to have the yarn knitted up in time for October 22 -- the 12-year anniversary of my grandmother's passing (and also the 12-year anniversary of the year that the lilacs bloomed in October).

Winners get sock yarn -- I have two lovely skeins of Mountain Colors Bearfoot and some other yummy yarns to share.

Start your engines.

Tick ... Tock ... Tick ... Tock ...

Note: Knitting content is at the bottom of this post; skip ahead or read the baby update :)

An Update on the Babe

Well folks, the clock is ticking now on L'il I. I will spare you minor details, but suffice it to say that the boy is just about done cooking. At a whopping 4 lbs, 12 oz, the doctors finally have succumbed to my telling them (over and over and over) that I. Give. Birth. To. Little. People.

That's right, Zee was 5 lbs, 13.5 oz, the Yarn Sniffer was just over 5 lbs. This dude is even littler. I'm not worried, though ... they do grow up way too fast for my liking anyway and this buys me some extra snuggly time with a little peanut.

Truth is, though, I've felt pretty miserable for the past few days. My back is killing me, my hips are killing me ... "the girls" are huge (for me, anyway) and are killing me ... I'm just about done.

Good news is that he's really quite happy in there, and the induction has little to do with poor environmental controls. Plenty of fluid, happy placenta ... no reason to think of growth restriction or anything scary. Frankly, I attribute it to this whole gestational diabetes diet. After all, I've said all along that putting me on the stupid thing was counterintuitive -- it seems that for the last month (since the diagnosis and diet restrictions) his gain has slacked off and he's gone from being what they call "AGA" (average for gestational age) to borderline "SGA" (small for gestational age). One of the major risks of GDM is what they call "macrosomia" (big baby syndrome) -- when the baby gets flooded with sugar and, well, gets fat. I clearly don't have that problem. Dr. Awesome joined my fight against it last week and told me to keep sneaking carbs -- if only to hold him at his current weight -- and this week, Dr. Wonderful said those magic words:

Dr: So, how are your sugars?

Me (looking bored): Still non-existent. I can eat a huge plate of stuffed shrimp, bread, a baked potato, a cup of decaf with sugar and a big piece of baby shower cake and my sugar is 101 three hours later.

Dr. (looking a little defeated and a bit sheepish): I think it's safe to say that you're not having problems.

Vindication at last. That very afternoon I emailed the dietician to report ANOTHER week of ZERO weight gain (I lost a pound, he held steady) and asked if she still wanted numbers. She said no more. Thank heavens. So I haven't been sweating it, and I started eating normally again in the hopes that he'll be able to gain a few more ounces before moving day.

Knitting Progress

So, like so many others, I've been participating in the Summer of Socks. I joined for a few reasons: I wanted a kick in the rear to finally get a bunch of socks knit (I don't want to wear commercially made socks this winter) and I also wanted to try to boost my visitors and expand my blogger circle. Each week, the "updater" checks out the blogs she's been assigned and posts an update. Some updaters post longish writeups to hail the progress of their groups. I always read them and visit and comment. Our update posts are a bit too simple for my taste, and I have had few, if any, comments as a result. It's my luck, I suppose.

In other traffic news, I have developed a site where I can post patterns, finished objects, baby and big-kid pics and other things that folks might find interesting. The first thing up was my cuff-down conversion notes for Wendy's Southwestern Socks. She was kind enough to 1) let me do it and 2) mention the document in her blog and urge folks to come on over. To date, that page of my site has received 185 hits. But still no comments. Maybe I'm just not that interesting.

But progress is interesting to me, anyway. Remember how I said I loved the Conwy sock so much I didn't want it to end? Well, yesterday L'il I got himself a Conwy baby hat to come home in (I decided I'm not happy with the hat I did the other week):

I've cast on for a pair of Conwy socks to go with it. Hopefully those will be done today (unless he decides it is way too hot for socks and jumps ship before I can finish them).

I'm also still working on finishing up the Butterfly Lace sock that I started earlier this week. I can't really claim ownership on the stitch pattern, but I will be posting the sock specs as soon as they're done.

I have also toyed around with a Little Shell stitch to go with the Chewy Spaghetti yarn that was originally destined for (another) pair of Monkeys.

The match to the Southwestern Sock will be taken to the hospital with me and (hopefully) completed there.

Now about that contest...

The forthcoming contest I promised you will involve the leaving of comments. Details will be posted later today.

I'm getting pretty predictable here, aren't I? Sorry folks, but I have more socks to show. Before I do, though, I need to let all readers know that there will be a contest posted here by the end of the week. Be sure to come back and enter ... there's yarn in it for the winner and that's never a bad thing ;)

First, I'm pleased to show you my cuff-down version of Wendy's Southwestern Sock pattern, which is currently available over at The Loopy Ewe. I modified the pattern from toe-up to cuff-down and used a Dutch heel and star toe instead of the standard versions. After asking Wendy's permission, I developed a set of conversion notes for anyone who is interested in doing this pattern cuff down. The sheet is posted here on my web site.

As I said before, these socks are done on #2 dpns in Fleece Artist 2/6 Merino. No name for the colorway, but I really do believe that it's very Southwestern. Definitely reminds me of the chile peppers and deserts and flora I enjoyed in Santa Fe last fall. Agree?

In other news, the Conwy socks are also complete:

Specs? Socks that Rock Lightweight in the "Downpour" colorway on #1.5 dpns. I had enough yarn left over for a few small baby Conwys, which will be done later on down the line. You see, I'm busy doing a sock design of my own:

My apologies for the crappy picture ... there will be a better image as soon as the prototype is finished (most likely tonight or tomorrow morning -- it's a fast knit!)

It's All About the Sock (Yarn)

One could also call this post "Bed Rest, Week Two," but that would be extremely boring.

I'm still gestating. L'il I will be 36 weeks young on Monday. Not much longer now. As I said in my last post, bedrest is a double-edged sword -- but I will say that amidst the chaos that is my office world (and my "husband-is-cleaning-not-me" home world"), having quiet days to plow through work has been quite nice. Conference calls aren't the easiest thing in the world to manage, but I'm plodding through with only a minor feeling of disconnection from the world.

And a major feeling of connection with my knitting. The past two weeks, as you know, have been filled with socks and other finishing, though progress this week seems a little slow. I'm getting ready for the heel on the second Conwy (which I think I'm dragging on because I LOVE knitting it and I don't want it to end).

I've also been toying with Wendy's new Southwestern Sock (making modifications and doing it cuff-down rather than toe-up). First, I cast on with Mountain Colors Bearfoot in the Yellowstone colorway (and packed it in a bag to take to the hospital). After a few sessions, I realized the yarn was giving me a huge headache. Not that it was being problematic, mind you, but it was literally giving me a migraine. Every time I picked it up to do a repeat, my head was pounding. I think it's the mohair, and I think it needs to go. The sock is sitting now post-heel-turn, pre-gusset pickup, and will most likely be frogged. That's the bad news. The good news is that someone is going to get this yarn -- along with the other skein I have (in the "Jasper" colorway) just as soon as I decide on some sort of contest. Wanna see the sock before I frog it?

So, in my effort to find a good yarn for the Southwestern pattern, I went to my all-time favorite yarn: Fleece Artist 2/6 Merino. I've only used it once (for the Moc Croc socks I did earlier this year) and I fell in love with it. As it turns out, I had a perfect skein. Filled with chile reds and deep greens and golds and some subtle browns, it definitely reminds me of my trip to Santa Fe and Albuquerque last year (plus, it still coordinates with Laura's bag). So I started the sock up with the new yarn. And I have to tell you that this pattern is a fast knit. And further proof that everything is better in Fleece Artist.

Today is Saturday and it's a big knitting day for a bed-rester. I get to watch the men in my life work around the house while I lay on my sofa and knit, knit, knit. I hope to finish the Conwy sock and perhaps even the first Southwestern Sock. Then my next step is identifying the next pattern and a good yarn to go with it. I want to use one of the new skeins and design my own sock. I've been mulling stitch dictionaries and studying Nancy Bush for a good heel and toe (I'd love to do something with a half-hankerchief heel and star toe, but that combo might be better suited for a delicate sock -- and right now I'm not into super-delicate).

And so a question (not the contest). I've done some enhancement over my bedrest period and have new yarns to play with. Which one do you like best?

Chewy Spaghetti in "Lyrical" (this may end up as a Monkey) and Cider Moon in "Kansas"

Schaeffer's "Lola" in Pumpkin Spice and Fleece Artist in "Rainforest"

Mama E's July Sock Club Yarn -- "Boogie Boy Blues"

Mountain Colors Weavers Wool Quarters in "Rosehip" and Mountain Colors 4/8 Wool in "Juniper" (I snuck out to the LYS while the electric company took down a tree and cut my power on Thursday ... it was hot as hell in our house and I needed to go somewhere cool or stay home and get dehydrated)

and lastly, Black Bunny Sock Yarn in "Honeybees."

Thoughts?

"Laziness may appear attractive, but work gives satisfaction..."

Anne Frank wrote this in a diary entry dated July 6, 1944, and somehow it seems fitting for my current situation. You see, I think all of us at some point envy folks who live the life of leisure and don't have to cook, clean or leave the house for work. I enjoyed it for the first few days, but then the restrictions of having to rest all the time and only being able to leave the house for doctors' appointments set in and it started to feel a bit like prison. Since August 4 is the day that the annex was raided, it seems appropriate to quote her. Now I'm by no means comparing my current plight with hers (few could), but times like these certainly make you realize just how directly Anne hit the proverbial nail on its head.


With the craziness going on at the office, I feel a little guilty for not being there in person, but I've been putting in full days from home and I don't feel nearly as behind as I did when I first landed my butt in this position. In fact, having quiet time to work is quite satisfying. Especially when there are socks to show for it. Here's the first Conwy sock (second has been started):




I cannot tell you how much fun I had with this sock. From the patterned rib at the top all the way down to the cute little star toe (which may be my new favorite), I loved every minute of it. It seems that my Socks that Rock "Downpour" (the yarn that simply had lost its identity months ago and was cast furiously aside into the pit of difficult yarns) has finally claimed a personality. These little ribs on the sock work so well with the striping and even in the lightweight (as opposed to the mediumweight I used for the Unst socks) it knit up at lightning speed.


Like I said, I've started the second, but I'll wait to show you a picture until I've finished.


And now, I'd like to thank everyone who has called to check in, e-mailed good wishes and especially Laura, who stopped by on Friday after our spinner's group meeting for a visit. If you visit her blog, you'll see that she's been sewing a bit lately. Last week she sewed up the cutest sock bag ever, and wouldn't ya know it, the next day she had done another and promised it to me! She brought it over with her and I can't tell you how it cheered me up. It's already packed with a sock to take to the hospital:




The yarn inside is Mountain Colors Bearfoot and the pattern I'm using is Wendy's new Southwestern Sock pattern that you can get for free over at The Loopy Ewe. I should point out here that I'm partial to The Loopy Ewe and that I AM a Loopy Groupie. You can see him in there, but my Loopy postcard is in the bag for a shot with L'il I for the Loopie on Vacation collection. Yeah, I know that the hospital isn't really a vacation, but it will be about as good as he'll see from me this month. He'll take other visits after the babe arrives.

And here's a shot of the outside:


The colors suck in this photo, so if you want better pictures, you'll have to go see Ms. Soapturtle at her place. She did a better job setting up the shot :)

And while you're visiting folks, pop over to see Theresa, whose lovely little girl Zofia was born the same day I hit the big 33. She and I have been chatting and e-mailing back and forth with baby updates for a few months now. I'm about three weeks behind her in my pregnancy, so it's been pretty fun having someone to banter with who also had to deal with a Dr. Serious and a Dr. Wonderful.

And speakng of doctors? I have just one thing to say: Just when I thought Dr. Wonderful was the best of the best, today I had my appointment with Dr. Awesome. More on that later -- and a photo of another new acquisition (came yesterday, but I'm feeling too lazy to go get it and take a picture).

Well, well, well...

Joyce Grenfell wrote: "Progress everywhere today does seem to come so very heavily disguised as chaos." This is how I'm feeling these days.


Today is the day that L'il I turns 35 weeks ... one week past the point where labor won't be stopped, and five official ones until they would officially declare that he's done cooking. I'm still at home on the sofa, working on work and knitting in my free moments.

I've made a slew of knitting progress.

Allow me to present a finished pair of Unst socks, courtesy of "Knitting on the Road" by Nancy Bush. These are the first socks I've completed from the book (had a few false starts last year), and they are by far the FASTEST socks I've ever knit. I literally started them on Friday and finished them on Saturday. A sock a day. Good lord. It was a whirlwind. The yarn is STR: Obsidian in mediumweight and these were done on #1.5 needles (dpns).

I also finished up a washcloth that has been languishing.

And a burp cloth.



And the Lacy Scallop scarf that I started a year and a half ago. The pattern comes from Wendy's book.



I should point out that I'm halfway through the first leg of the next sock -- Conwy by Nancy Bush -- and, believe it or not, my STR in Downpour is doing GREAT with this pattern. This yarn has been the bane of my existence since I first tried it months ago, and it's been sitting in a bag, all wound up and waiting for a pattern. It gives me great pleasure to say it has found a soulmate and is chugging along nicely. If this goes as quickly as the Unst socks once I get moving, I will be one happy woman. I will show a picture once I'm past the heel.

And on other progress (besides knitting and baby), our massive houseclean is going well. It would go much faster if I were able to get off my butt and help my hubby, but he's doing great solo.

Back to work....

Bed Rest, Week 1

Well, this is day 7 of modified bed rest, which means I can work from home, fix my lunch and use the facilities. That's about it. Oh -- and I could take myself to the two doctor appts I had this week.

Bad news is that my boss up and quit two days ago. Good news is that I've made some knitting progress. It's amazing how downtime in the evenings (translation -- I don't have to cook dinner, do laundry, coordinate big-kid showers or bedtime routines) can contribute to significant knitting progress.

Firstly, here's one -- yes, just one -- Shapely Sandal Sock. I false-started this sucker three times before actually completing one. I haven't started the second because I'm afraid I'll run out of yarn and the stress is killing me. I'll do it later. The yarn is Claudia's in "Pistachio."

Secondly, I present to you a cute pair of baby socks and matching hat. I have a vision of bringing L'il I home in them -- if I can find an outfit to match, that is. The yarn is Baby Ull, and it was leftover from the Basil blanket I did a while back (it will most likely be too warm to use the blanket for the homecoming, but I'm seriously contemplating it.

And lastly, I give you a finished pair of "Go With the Flow" socks knit with STR medium weight in the "Footzey Foo" colorway. I enjoyed knitting with this yarn so much that I have immediately cast on with STR in "Obsidian" to make a pair of Unst socks.

Now if the baby would continue making such great progress, things will be great.

Mommy: 1, L'il I: 0

It's been quite a week here at Chez Spinneas, and I'm afraid I just don't have pictures to share it with you. But I'll at least try to keep it short so that it doesn't get too boring.

Tuesday was my birthday. I actually have a draft post saved that's filled with whining about work and how we make a big deal about everyone else's birthday and how the other folks manage to forget mine every fucking year. About how insulting that is, and blah, blah, blah. I got to work that morning to find flowers and a card on my desk (from the boss, believe it or not, though I admit that was awkward when people asked who gave me such a lovely bouquet), numerous well-wishes from the organization in my inbox and tons of smiles and "happy birthday" greetings over the course of the day. Lightened my mood considerably. Add too it the absolutely hilarious card that my aunt sent me and the new dishwasher my husband is getting me and it was a great day. Not that any of that really matters, of course -- my big boys gave me hugs and kisses and tons of love before heading into daycamp and that was really all I wanted, LOL.

On Wednesday, though, I woke up and it was business as usual. Except that I was absolutely exhausted all day long. Unable to get comfortable at my desk, and went to bed early. Thursday, I woke up feeling even worse -- all the physical malaise, but with the added urge to go over EVERYTHING with my assistant so that he was 100 percent up to speed on EVERYTHING going on at the office. Met with my boss about the upcoming budget process. Told him I was feeling odd (I should note that I dropped seriously overnight from Wednesday to Thursday) and that he ought to start moving in the mindset that L'il I was going to be coming sooner rather than later and that the hourglass was almost empty.

You see, I was having the earliest of contractions ... those little ones that feel like teensy weensy menstrual cramps. I had been having them all day, but I planned on telling the doc at my 3:00 appt.

At the appointment later that afternoon, everything moved along just fine. I was seeing Dr. Wonderful (as opposed to Dr. Serious) and I couldn't be happier. First they did the biophysical profile portion (I go for those every week). They hooked me up to the monitor to measure heart rate and contraction activity, and L'il I and I were chugging along. And then he did what he LOVES to do -- he spun around and positioned himself so that the heart monitor flatlined and set off the alarm. I can't tell you how much he likes to freak out the Muggles by doing this, LOL. Then I heard running. Serious high-heel running down the hall. I looked through the curtain and here comes Dr. Serious. Dashing in like a modern-day female swashbuckler, she started asking questions and generally being more than a little concerned.

"Wendy, this alarm means his heart rate is in a danger zone" (yes, I know, this happens a lot)

"Are you lightheaded or dizzy?" (No, not at all)

"You haven't experienced any swelling have you?" (Nope -- Check out my cute crocs while you're checking my ankles -- they'd be a lot more comfortable for you to run down the hall in)

Has he been moving today? (Of course he has, he just twisted around and performed his little trick.)

And then she readjusted the heart rate monitor to the other side (where he was pumping, pumping, pumping) and looked at the printout.

"Who are you seeing today?" (I pointed to Dr. Wonderful, who had been standing behind her for practically the whole exchange and said, simply, "Her," and Dr. Wonderful smiled and stepped in the room.)

Dr. Serious (who incidentally is a more senior partner in the practice) explained why she had come running (as opposed to letting Dr. Wonderful do all of the questions, etc.) and I told them that the contractions were something that I wanted to talk about if the biophysical confirmed what I had been feeling all day. I stayed on the monitor for another 15 minutes or so with my bottle of water and then headed in for the sono portion of my exam after giving yet another urine sample (sometimes UTI can aggravate a uterus, apparently).

In any event, Dr. Wonderful and I chatted about the labor pains I had been feeling all day and she did the sono. L'il I was still head-down (I had told her that already, LOL) and I asked her to do a pelvic exam to check dilation. She swabbed for fibernectin (a protein that indicates labor is taking place) first, and then checked me out. I was 50% effaced and 1 cm dilated.

I was told to get myself to ze hospital to take advantage of their monitoring system and their ability to intervene if necessary. And so I did. You see, L'il I was only 33 weeks, 3 days along -- four days short of the "his lungs are OK, let's push this baby out" deadline.

Hubby picked up Zee and the Sniffer from camp and went home to await further instruction. Phone calls were made to make arrangements for childcare should the need arise. The big winner was Larry the Appreciator, who had already said he'd be first to line up and take care of our boys no matter what time of day we needed him. He loves our boys dearly and packed a bag with his waffle iron and daily necessities (he makes a mean batch of his special homemade waffles and doesn't often have the chance to cook them up for two growing boys who can eat their weight of them) just in case.

I stayed at the hospital getting monitored and poked and prodded for hours. They tried oral hydration to stop the contractions (which were getting regular AND painful) before moving to an IV saline drip and a big dose of nifedipine (none of this worked) before they decided they needed to keep me overnight since the fibronectin test seemed to be botched up in some way. When a woman is going to go into labor in the subsequent 14 days, the cervix begins to secrete the protein fibronectin -- if the test comes back negative, you're pretty much in the clear for two weeks. However, if it comes back positive, it doesn't necessarily mean you'll go into labor in the next two weeks. A negative is what you want. But somehow, mine got botched -- and since cervical exams can cause a false positive, they couldn't repeat the test until 12-24 hours after the last pelvic check. I was doomed to stay at the hospital.

I didn't get to eat any dinner (this totally sucked -- the only real time I actually feel diabetic is when I'm STARVING) and I got moved to a L&D room that had a TV. I should point out here that I really did feel like it was D-day and was starting to worry about hubby and the boys and how they were going to handle a middle-of-the-night dash to the hospital.

Got another dose of nifidipine after my relocation, another bag of saline and I settled into bed. I spent the night alone, getting up every two hours to pee or reposition (not easy with the IV from HELL in your wrist) and to check the monitor printout for contracile activity ... which continued for another few hours (though they weren't as painful). By morning, though, things had calmed down and I was only having 1-2 an hour and they were usually directly related to my rapidly filling bladder (hey, they gave me a million liters of saline, what did they expect?). Had some breakfast, watched "Hairspray" on TV while I worked on my restart of the Shapely Sandal Sock and waited for the doc to come in and give me an all clear and let me go home where I could at least take a shower!

Bedrest was her prescription. My cervix had gone from 1 cm to a fingertip, and so I'm now laid up and stuck watching my boys finish everything that needs to be done before L'il I makes his entrance. I'm now only two days short of the deadline. So if I can make it until next week, there will be no stopping the little booger. He should be close to five pounds at that point (the Sniffer was only 5 lbs, one-half ounce), so not too teensy. His lungs will be ready to take on the world.

I'm hoping that if he comes this week, it will be on the 26th. That was my Granny's birthday, and for some reason, I'm thinking that day could be it. You see my birthday, July 17, was MY great-grandmother's birthday and I always thought that was pretty darn neat. While Gran isn't here to share the yearly call that MaMa and I enjoyed, I think she'd fight her way to the front of the spectator line above and send good vibes (the whole time poking my grandfather in the ribs and saying, "Now William, you just watch -- Wen's gonna have that boy on my birthday the same way Kay had her on your mother's birthday!") The prospect of such a scene makes me smile like an idiot.

But the truth is, there would be a LOT to do in the next four days if that were the case!!

Could It Really Be?

That I have a finished object?

This morning over coffee, I grafted the toes of the Waving Lace socks. Finally, a finished pair. Part of me can't believe it.

Now these were done in Fleece Artist Sea Wool, and somehow or another they ended up being much longer than expected. I think this -- along with the health issues I've been dealing with -- may have contributed to the incredibly long knitting time. I'm just glad they're done!

I also have a Monkey on the sticks, along with the match for the Go With the Flow socks. All in good time, all in good time. And these Sea Wool socks feel pretty fine on the feet!

Speaking of Independence...

There are days when I just can believe how grown up the two big boys are:


Here they are yesterday just before marching in the Independence Day parade with their cub scout pack. The Yarn Sniffer is simply thrilled to be a Tiger Scout (Mommy will be his den leader in September) and to have a new uniform. Zee, on the other hand, was more happy than he appears in this picture...

An Update

First of all, Happy Fourth of July! Most of my day will involve getting my little cub scouts prepared to march in our town's annual Independence Day parade, and waiting at the end with a cooler of water bottles and popsicles (which reminds me that I need to get the freezer stocked with them so they're ready). I'll be the only den leader not marching in the parade, I'm sure, but the guys understand. No one wants to deliver a baby on the parade route :)

The month of June was a wash for me, knitting-wise. Summer of Socks has started very slowly, as I've been dealing with a ton of work stress, home stress, and baby stress. The great news is that the proteinuria issue seems to have resolved (most likely a false alarm), and I'm coming to grips with this whole diabetes thing. The visit to the perinatologist was uneventful on Friday, except that I did get one of those neat-o 3-D pictures. I swear, if I had to describe the image, I'd say "Cezanne on crack meets medical imaging." If hubby would stop nesting long enough to coax our tempermental scanner into working for me, I'd post one of them. At one point, when they had the 3-D paddle on my abdomen, L'il I smiled. I melted. He's fine -- in fact, the doc said that there was absolutely nothing remarkable at the ultrasound. But, because I'm a small-framed woman who has small babies, they do want to do weekly ultrasounds and non-stress tests just to make sure he doesn't get cramped in there. Enter the gestational diabetes.

You simply have to love it when the perinatologist says, "Well, the gestational diabetes diagnosis MAY be real. But you only failed the second number by one point." It kinda confirmed my feeling that perhaps this diagnosis is a CYA maneuver on the part of the obstetrician. But then he and I chatted about the numbers I've been getting (you see, I'm the pain in the butt patient who started testing in advance to make herself feel like she's in control), and he said right now it sounds like diet will do to manage this perceived risk. He did recommend going to the educational class ... and said the diet was pretty logical whether you're diabetic or not. I had been pondering that thought for a few days, and had come to the conclusion that it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to have folks take a nutrition class from the get-go anyway. We all get complacent about eating healthy.

Yesterday, I had a big day for baby. Went for the first non-stress test and ultrasound (everything was fine) and afterward had a sit-down with Dr. Serious. I explained to her that I felt as though everything was hitting like a freight train and getting extremely clinical, and how it felt to have "high risk" dropped on you with absolutely no counseling or explanation from a doctor, and how the extra stress was just, well, stressful, and that I didn't appreciate it. I also asked her why the proteinuria wasn't given the opportunity to resolve before the order was given to see the perinatologist, and she couldn't give me an answer (to her credit, it was a different OB that gave the order -- one I hadn't ever seen before). I told her that I fully understood the malpractice threats that OBs are facing (I work for a national medical organization -- urology -- and am well aware of the risks that our specialties are dealing with. Told her that I just resented the fact that I never had the opportunity to have an educated conversation with the OB before we started all of the high-risk approaches to a pregnancy that, aside from the marginal glucose, was progressing fine. She softened a bit, and then backed off a little. Said she was going to go over the perinatologist report in detail, and that she might be willing to go to a two-week biophysical scan schedule for the next few weeks and then re-bump it up to weekly if something catches her eye. I felt more reasonable after actually having the chance to sit and talk about it, and I feel like she met me halfway. She did not budge on the "high-risk" feeling ... but she's willing to move at a pace that's less frantic.

So yesterday, I went to the diabetes class. Two hours of learning about how the placenta is to blame for the whole deal, how carbohydrates should be measured, how many are best for me per meal/snack, how the body accesses fat stores when your sugar is really low, and what foods are "free" and which ones aren't. I now have to check my sugar four times a day and check for ketones first thing in the morning to make sure I'm not accessing the fat stores in my liver overnight. Personally, I think it was a pretty good use of two hours. I haven't really thought about this kind of thing since health class in high school (and that was a while ago). If they had every pregnant woman take a class like this, they might have less problems with GDM diagnoses. I mean, how many of us crave things that we don't normally eat? I'm really not a huge carb eater, and those cravings have waned a bit. It's entirely feasible to think that that glucola would shoot the numbers up and give a false positive. But, had I been eating a reasonable amount of carbs all along, perhaps my pancreas would have been more accustomed to reacting to that much sugar.

I've been tracking my food intake for the past week and monitoring my sugar, but I understand the process a bit better now (for instance, don't have fruit or fruit juice first thing in the a.m.!) and I know what I can fill up on to keep myself from starving. This will be a bit of a change for me, because I'm typically a grazer ... but now I know what I can graze on between meals without ruining my post-meal numbers. The only problem is that I can't have that afternoon jelly crimpet without sacrificing another carb :) I'll live ... and I think I'll feel better as a result. It's also good for the rest of the guys in my house ... they're already making comments to each other like, "Mommy says you should eat some cheese instead of having a bowl of pretzels" or "that has too much sugar in it and it will give you a sugar high." My hubby usually does most of the cooking and he's been focusing more on side salads and proteins, and watching his own carb portions too. What cracks me up is that I find cookie wrappers in the trash in the morning because he's snacking in the evening after I'm out of sight :)

June was a wash with knitting. Only a few socks finished, but I hope to pick up some steam in July. I have a Monkey in progress, along with the waving lace match and the go with the flow match. I hope July will bring a return to normal activities and go more smoothly than June!

Random Friday

Since I can't remember which day is the "random" day for blog posting, I'm doing it on Friday. As I've never bothered to do an "eye-candy" post on a Friday, I'm not breaking any of my own traditions. Besides, I have a lot on my mind.

Enter the Mouse.
Ask The Yarn Sniffer what he wants to be when he grows up and he'll give you a one-word answer followed by a single caveat: "Steve. But I don't want to get stabbed in the heart by a stingray." TYS has a ferocious love of animals fueled by intense emotion that is incredibly endearing. I could tell you multiple stories about it -- how he cried when he released a lightning bug because he was happy the bug would be returning to his family, about "Erik Taylor" the snake, Sammy the hermit crab, etc. So I'm in a quandary. This morning, I was sitting in the bathroom when a mouse came in through the crack on the hing-side of the door. He saw me and fled -- he had an easier time getting in than getting out, and it was comical to watch. I now have to figure out how to deal with this mouse humanely and, if possible, without alerting the Sniffer. A regular trap won't do (ew!) and a sticky trap would make TYS quite upset. Please chime in.

Supreme Court Integration Decision
Forty years ago, race was a huge issue in the United States. It still is, though I often feel that basing certain decisions on race (i.e. affirmative action) are being outgrown and outdated. In my own opinion (and it's my own, remember this is my blog and my opinions and I'm not trying to piss anyone off here, just making statements), some of these practices have let folks to make decisions for specious reasons. I'd be very interested in a social scientist's opinion on this, as well as seeing some data on racial breakdowns vs. full socioeconomic breakdowns for the school districts in question. Integration and affirmative action are true milestones in civil rights, but few people seem to have addressed the full socioeconomic profile as an alternative. It doesn't matter whether you're white, black, yellow, brown or purple -- kids are kids and deserve equal opportunities. I suspect the results could be quite interesting if you look at it this way.

Life's Catastrophe
Over the past month, it's been one crisis after another at Chez Spinneas. The non-baby related crises have resolved so far, and all that remains are baby issues. It started with a bad protein level in a urine dip that resulted in a bad 24-hour urine test (that was a blast, let me tell you). Then a failed one-hour glucose tolerance test turned into a failed three-hour glucose tolerance test that has resulted in a "we're going to treat you like a gestational diabetic" approach to my pregnancy. Factor in the fact that I tend to have five-pound infants (this is actually quite normal in my family), and the fact that I am with a new OBGYN practice this time around who does not feel a need to review my past records, and all of a sudden, I'm a high-risk pregnancy even though I feel quite fine, thank you very much. The only thing different about this pregnancy is that I'm older this time around, I have a higher-stress job, and I feel like my uterus has worse suspension than a pair of worn out truck shocks.

So what does this mean? Well, it means I've been checking my sugar levels with a glucometer for the past week (first with a cheap-o that I picked up to make myself feel like I was in control over the weekend, now with a OneTouch Ultra that insurance paid for that seems to be giving me more accurate numbers), eating three meals a day plus snacks (as opposed to the five or six smaller meals that make me feel better and more consistent), and freaking myself out on a regular basis. Having gestational diabetes does not scare me. Pricking my finger constantly doesn't bother me. What does bother me is the fact that this "official" meal pattern is driving L'il I nuts. For the first four days (while I was using the cheap-o monitor), I was doing as much as I could to keep my sugars in line and probably over-tested myself. Problem was, every time I felt like I was starving and needed to eat, it showed a high glucose level that indicated that I needed to exercise and bring it down. I'd go take a walk and then be even more hungry with a high level. The baby got very quiet, too. Once I got the OneTouch on Wednesday, the numbers seem to be more in line with how my body feels ... when I'm starving, it's low, when I'm ready to curl up and sleep, they're high. Makes more sense to me, so I'm tossing out those other numbers (not just for this reason, but for the fact that I tested the same blood sample on both meters on Wednesday and found that the OneTouch was FIFTY points lower than the other. No wonder I felt like I've been starving myself. It's been much easier since -- and I hope that the dietician I have to see on Tuesday will concur!

Today I head out for an appointment at a perinatal center, where I will undergo a level III ultrasound of L'il I because of the urine dip issue (keep in mind that I dipped clear at my last OB appointment, and my own personal feeling is that they should have checked levels further before initiating this referral -- especially since I have sought opinions of three urologists who tell me that the numbers are only slightly elevated and worth observation, not necessarily intervention). Good news is that I get to see L'il I today -- pictures are always great and as long as nothing is wrong, I hope to post one this weekend so everyone can see him.

Not All Things are Equal

My apologies for the long absence from blogging. Remember that post about my life being a catastrophe? Well, more crap kept getting piled on top of the existing crap and, well, for about a week now I have been fairly consumed with it and haven't done much knitting, despite the commencement of Summer of Socks last Thursday.

I'll try to share some of the trials and tribulations in an update later today, but I wanted to make sure everyone knew I was still alive (and still pregnant).

Catastrophe (Part 2) and Partial Resolution

I suppose that no comment means no happy vibe. I flunked the glucose test, as well as the protein "dip" on Friday. What does that mean? Well, not to give too much information or anything, but suffice it to say that I had to do a 24-hour urine collection and now have to suffer the four-hour glucose test ... which is absolute torture. I don't have the urine results yet, but at least I'm not showing any of the other signs of pre-eclampsia. I'm keeping my fingers crossed and hoping that it all works out ... I'm taking a very Scarlet O'Hara approach to the whole thing, namely because we're heading out for an unexpected four days at the beach starting tonight. Hubby and I figure that we need to do this soon for the boys ... in case I end up delivering early or ending up on bedrest.

That's only part of the catastrophe that has been my life (though admittedly, things do work themselves out fairly well -- even though I stress uncontrollably). I'm not the most pious person out there, but I do believe that everything happens for a reason and sometimes it takes a bolt of lightening to get things done.

I honestly can't remember if I've shared the continuing saga of our 95 Honda, other than telling everyone how it overheated and gave us a fit last year just before Christmas (smack in the middle of the holiday season). Our friend the mechanic checked it out and unveiled a leaky water pump, which we nursed for as long as humanly possible before finally going in to get an estimate on repairs last Thursday after it overheated again. It wasn't just the water pump -- the crimps on the radiator were leaking and it was going to cost more than a grand to get the stupid thing fixed. Now keep in mind this is a two-door car that I was using to haul two growing boys around and it was really only a matter of time before we had to take the plunge into "we have a car payment again" territory. We bought the car on a lark from friends when they couldn't get a reasonable trade-in for it two years ago -- and we did it primarily so that I could finally learn to drive a manual transmission (something I've wanted to do since I learned to drive!). The car served its purpose, and it was time for it to go bye-bye.

So last Friday I left the world of "sporty mom with a stick shift coupe" to "elementary school mama with a minivan" ... It feels very odd to drive something so much larger, and stressful to have the burden of a car payment (and more expensive insurance), but we'll be OK. The yarn budget will likely suffer (though I've been building a nest in yarn, so this shouldn't be a tremendous buzz-kill for the knitting), but the van is lovely and I'm very happy. The best part was that my husband trusted me to handle the whole thing since he couldn't get out of work last week and knew it had to be done (he always trusts me, but this was a big purchase and I was very nervous).

Wanna see?

And on another note, before we found out that L'il I was on his way, we had discussed the possibility of getting new furniture for our living room. We decided against the purchase not for monetary reasons, but rather because babies are messy. In an odd twist of fate late last week and early this week, we've managed to procure yet another big thing:

Again, very lovely. It's a pretty green plaid, and it cost a song. It's new to me, and in my eyes, it's in perfect condition. It also looks great in our Cape Cod's living room and it complements the spinning wheel :)

Blogging on knitting will return next week after our beach trip -- the socks are progressing. First waving lace sock is complete and the second one coming along; I'm on the gussets for the first "Go with the Flow" sock, which I'm also quite happy with. I'm trying not to start another sock until the Summer of Socks starts next Thursday!

Four Weeks, Eight Socks (or, My Life, the Catastrophe)

It occurred to me that I never blogged to tell everyone that I actually made it home. Well, I did. The return trip was not without major drama, so I won't tell you how all flights (American Airlines) through Dallas were cancelled and how we had to order new tickets from Southwest (love them) and how we spent the day in the airport waiting for that flight, only to find that it was delayed more than 90 minutes and how we didn't get home until 3 a.m. Nope, not gonna explain any of that :)

Instead, I'll share some sock progress.

Ze Jaywalkers are done. Regia silk color on size 1 Pony Pearl needles (airline safe, you see):

And so are the #2 Monkeys, completed just yesterday. Colinette Jitterbug on my standard metal dpns, size 0. I bought this yarn before the trip and have absolutely fallen in love with it.


The Jitterbug is delightfully smooshy and sproingy, but the yardage is scant. These Monkeys are short one cuff repeat and one foot repeat for a size 5 foot. They're snug, but I love them. I've actually bought two more skeins of this yarn -- one in the "plum" colorway and one in the "olive" colorway. I haven't picked patterns specifically yet, but I will soon.

As soon as I finish the next two socks in progress.

I finally figured out what to do with that Fleece Artist Sea Wool ("Spring" colorway), as well as the Socks that Rock that I've been struggling to choose a pattern for.

Over the weekend, while I was laid up on the sofa with Achilles Tendonitis (still really bothering me) after a week that consisted of two trips to the Department of Motor Vehicles, one trip to the dentist (old filling jumped ship), a busted AC at work (that was Tuesday -- welcome back to work) and a trip to the internist (on Friday for the ankle), I struggled with the sea wool yet again, determined to pick a pattern that would showcase this lovely stuff. I finally opted for Evelyn Clark's Waving Lace sock from Interweave's "Favorite Socks" ... which I finally broke down and purchased. What you see on the left in the photo above is Sunday's sock progress. It's amazing what you can do when you're relegated to doing nothing. Another repeat and I'll be at the toe on the first sock. They're a bit longer than usual for me, but I'm really hoping the yardage holds for its mate. The yarn is light and airy and fun to knit, and I've no doubt that these will become nice Spring/Fall socks. Not too heavy and not too warm.

At this point, I need to issue a formal apology to two of my cousins -- my ankle rendered me unable to attend one's graduation party on Sunday, and to see his sister's new baby. I just couldn't walk and I feel horrible for not being there!
The sock on the right is also an Evelyn Clark -- the Go with the Flow pattern started in the Socks that Rock "Footzey Foo" colorway. I've completed the fourth pattern repeat on the leg (it calls for 20) and it's one of the fastest patterns around. What's even better is that the pattern is super easy to remember -- which makes this pattern a great one for carrying along on doctor's trips, DMV debacles and anything else that happens to come my way (today it will most likely be the mechanic ... I think my water pump is finally hosed).

Not to be outdone by the car, this week's announcement from L'il I is that we head off on Friday for our Rho-gam shot and one-hour glucose torture test. I've managed to fail by one point for the other pregnancies (which culminates in a four-hour hell), so I'm hoping this one will be better. Send happy vibes!