Woodland Shawl

 I started this thing forever and a day ago; I began, decided to go up a needle size, ripped, and started again. The yarn was won in a contest; when I saw it, I knew that I had to do something gorgeous with it, something that put it somewhere that wasn't my feet. And the Woodland Shawl pattern fit the bill perfectly: easily memorized, portable, and perfect with the yarn. Speaking of the yarn, it is Fearless Fibers Superwash Merino Sock Yarn in Sublime, the perfect balance of gold, red, brown and greens. Fantastic for something called a "Woodland Shawl".

And that makes yet another finished object. If I keep this up, folks will start to get the wrong impression about me. 

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February Lady Sweater – Ravelympics 2008

I finally got the Dream in Color Classy photographed:

It's a hard color to photograph – deep purples and reds, with black layered in for good measure. I bought six skeins because I am absolutely terrified of running out of yarn; Sarah may end up with another February Baby Sweater if there is enough left over. Although, would that be dorky? If we have matching sweaters? I seem to recall making fun of mother/daughter sets like that in a store recently…but those weren't handmade, so it doesn't count. I've been on a tear lately, wanting to start new projects – hence, this happened:

Nope, it's not just you – the picture is a bit blurry. Those would be the Crosshatch Lace pattern from More Senstational Knitted Socks! by Charlene Schurch, and the yarn is Knit Picks Essential Kettle Dyed in Wine.

As I draw closer to the end of the summer semester, I find myself losing steam in my classes. I remember this happening when I went through college the first time around; I set out with the best of intentions, studying diligently and making every effort to get that A that I so desperately want, but by the end…I find myself calculating just how little work I could do and still pull a B. I'm still shooting for that A, trust me, but it's crazy busy trying to keep track of two kids and school at the same time. No excuses, however; please, feel free to kick me in the ass if you pass me in the hallway.

Not really. You might lose a leg.

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Tartan Socks

I have FRACKIN' FINISHED SOMETHING: 

Self striping socks simply aren't my thing, normally, but thanks to the fantastic dye job of one indie dyer, I can make self striping socks that I actually like. These only took three weeks to complete, which is virtually a miracle dropped down from the heavens. I cannot explain why, but it takes me forever to finish anything (hence the worry over the upcoming Knitting Olympics, and thoughts about my level of sanity for signing up for an entire sweater (I AM STUPID)). I have enough yarn to keep me knitting for the next five years at the rate that I knit, but lucky for yarn stores, that sure as hell doesn't keep me from buying more. Regardless, these socks are THE BOMB, the color combinations are obnoxious, and I couldn't be more pleased that they are finished and ready for public view.

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Tests

It's late on a Monday, and my husband is working late (rather unexpectedly), leaving me home alone with the kids. Neither of whom are cooperating; my son is chunking toys at his sister's head, and my daughter is unhappy that I won't let her play with a plastic bag. I've got a 7 am meeting tomorrow that I'm presenting at, I need to prepare, and yet, I just can't bring myself to do it after wrangling these kids this evening.

Over the weekend, we made our first trip as a family: we drove to Houston to visit a friend of mine from the first time around in college. She has three children of her own, so we let the kids have the run of the house, along with some other families that were over, and it was relaxing. I can't believe a trip with my kids can be termed "relaxing", but so be it. We had a good time – everyone slept when they were supposed to sleep, played when they were supposed to play, and ate when they were directed to. We returned feeling happy and grateful that this is a possiblity in our lives; we can leave the city and not end up hating life by the time we return.

So right now, sitting here typing this, is a hard return to reality. Bryan did not nap at all at school today, so we're dealing with an overly tired preschooler and an almost-toddler (yay for standing up all by yourself!) who is constantly frustrated by her brother, who yanks toys out of her hand, tries to pull her away from things that she's interested in, and basically tries his best to boss her around as much as he can.  But this is the day to day stuff that you push through, that you deal with, in order to have the fun times. This is normal, even if it is hard to handle when I'm still tired from the traveling and from a day of work myself.  This is the true test of being Mom. 

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Knitting Olympics

I'm pretty sure that I've gone insane. In about four weeks, the Knitting Olypmics starts up again, and I'm actually signed up to make a sweater.

A SWEATER. I can barely knit a pair of socks in two weeks. 

But it's not just any sweater; it's the grown up version of the February Baby Sweater (aptly named the February Lady Sweater). I have some experience with the pattern, as I made one for my daughter a while back, but still. TWO WEEKS? Thank God it's seamless, because otherwise I'm positive that this project would be a giant FAIL. I ordered some Dream In Color Classy in Gothic Rose, but I'm rethinking the color selection; Happy Forest is such a fantastic color, and I really love it to peices. Still, I can make this one in the red and then go back and make one in green, I guess. It's not like the world will fall apart because *gasp* I CHOSE A DIFFERENT COLOR. And even then, someone else has already done it in the Gothic Rose, and dude. DUDE. Totally stunning. 

Now all I have to do is finish up these two damn classes and I'll be set. Cast on actually starts before the semester is officially over, but I am LIVING ON THE EDGE. 

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The Big 3-0

I survived my birthday – the world did not stop spinning, I did not explode into a pile of aging goo, and no one is pointing and laughing at the artifact that is walking among them. So no different than before. This birthday did make me realize how many fantastic friends I've got, though; birthday cards and email arrived from all over the place. I stood back Monday night and took a good look at all of the people that I've surrounded myself with, and I have to say, they all kick ass. So thanks, y'all, for doing such a great job of making me feel like a million dollars. Age IS just a number.

And according to the Wii Fit, I'm 28 anyway, so suck it, Father Time.

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Catching Up

Life: 1 
Blog Updates: 0

Sarah's party went really, really well. We bought too much food, which is pretty normal for us (I seem to be in constant fear that we're going to run out of food for some reason, like everyone will swoop in and demolish the food and then be all, HEY, WE ARE LEAVING NOW, YOU LOSERS) which means that we ate hot dogs for two days afterwards. No matter. Sarah was gifted with mounds of clothes and plenty of toys, and everyone had a blast. The Wii Fit was put to good use in entertaining some of the older kids at the party.

The bakery did a fanastic job with the cake; I was very impressed that they were able to do all of that from the napkin that I handed them. She did the dantiest cake smash ever; I gave her a corner peice, and she picked the little pink edging parts off and stuck them in her mouth one at a time. She had a little icing on her mouth and her hands, and that's about it; it's like she knew we were giving her permission to be a total mess, and she decided to do the exact opposite. And she refused to eat any of the actual cake; she would only eat the icing.

The combination of school and work and kids and husband and…well, LIFE, is kicking my ass right now. Time is at a premium. I'm not sure what happened, but somehow I'm scheduled solid from the time I wake up until the time I collapse in bed at night. I just keep telling myself that I can get through these two classes; but there are days when I stop and think about how stupid I was to take them at the same time in a shortened semester. There is nothing I can do about it now but muddle through as best as I can, but next time I come up with some hairbrained scheme to "knock out those two classes", please pick up the nearest heavy object and wail on me thoroughly. With gusto.

I was a part of a fantastic stitch marker swap on Ravelry, and somehow I ended up with the greatest assortment of stitch markers ever. My girls did a FABULOUS job; each set was made by hand, and will be put to good use if I ever get out from under my life. 

There is one additional set that I can't show you here, because y'all, this is a FAMILY SHOW, and two of the stitch markers may be shaped like a part of the male anatomy that rhymes with SCHMENIS. And others are a little more gross than that. I had a picture of it up on Flickr, but I took it down for fear that it would violate their terms, as well it should. Dirty, dirty stitch markers that I'm not sure should ever see the light of day.

Next up: the BIG BIRTHDAY. Of which we do not speak. But I think I did just speak of it. Crap.

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One Year

One year ago today, I was in the hospital at the unGodly hour of 5:30 am, bribing the nursing staff with bagels and cream cheese. Other patients told us that the nursing staff in any hospital can be bought, and buy them we did with fresh bagels. I definitely got top notch care, but I think that's just how that particular hospital rolls anyway.

One year ago today, I watched the weather in a pre-op gown while hooked up to an IV.  They had TVs in there, to distract you from all of the rest of the things that they were doing at the time. I wasn't allowed to eat or drink anything after 10 pm the night before, so when they started the IV, all of that fluid went straight to my bladder, and I had to manuver myself into the bathroom while still hooked up to it. I told the nurse they would have been better off just emptying the IV bag directly into the toilet. She didn't get my joke, and proceeded to explain all of the Good Stuff In The IV to me. I forget that not everyone understands my humor.

One year ago today, I cried as they walked me down the hall to the operating room; I was so scared of what was about to happen that I couldn't stop shaking.  When they got me up on the operating room table, after they had located a step stool (how could you expect me to CLIMB UP THERE, you dolts?), my anesthesiologist leaned over my shoulder from behind to make sure I was doing okay. I told him that I was fine, just terrified out of my freakin' mind, but ready for the spinal block. I hardly felt it. Next thing I knew, there was a rush to get me flat on my back before the drugs took full effect and I couldn't move at all. What I do remember is praying that they would wait to put the catheter in when I couldn't feel it. Thankfully, they did. 

One year ago today, Mike sat and wiped my tears as they started the surgery that would change our lives and our family forever.  Not to mention my reproductive status, as we got that FIXED while they were in there. They started the surgery, and I had a fabulous nurse anasthesiologist helping out; when I mentioned that I felt like I was going to puke, he worked his magic in my IV, and I immediately felt better. I remember my doctor commenting on how large I looked, and then saying that they needed a vacuum to get the baby's head out. Dr. Orth exclaimed over her size compared to my height when she finally got her out of there. 9 lbs even, 21 inches long. 

One year ago today, the nurses smacked my bed into a wall while they were rolling me back to my room; they felt horrible about it, but I was so hopped up on morphine that I didn't feel a thing and actually giggled at them for doing it. Once I was in my room, the urge to heave up my guts just wouldn't stop; they had me try a bit of jello, and the second it touched the back of my throat, my body started convulsing. Not such a great thing right after abdominal surgery. I tried the holistic things that they recommend, but finally I gave in and they shot me up with some anti-nausea drug that made me very, very sleepy.

One year ago today, I held my daughter for the first time.  

 

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Tag, I’m It

I've been tagged by Squib-Stitcher (who has a lovely photograph of herself on her blog, by the way), so here goes:

What was I doing 10 years ago?
I was still in college, hating life and wishing that I was out of school. I quit soon thereafter, and here I am today. Back in school. Wishing I was out of school, but I'm not hating life. Baby steps, y'all.

What are 5 things on my to-do list for today?
1. Grocery store, because we have no food.
2. Fold a load of laundry when I get home so that we're not living like a bunch of hobos with clean laundry piled up all around us. Well, I guess hobos don't have clean laundry around, but you get what I mean.
3. Read a chapter of my accounting textbook. Try to stay awake.
4. Bathe the kids. See hobo comment above.
5. Knit on the cardigan that I started a few days ago.

Snacks I enjoy:
You would be hard pressed to find snacks that I don't enjoy. Salty and sweet, breads, ice creams, crackers…you get the idea. And you also see why my ass is expanding.

Things I would do if I were a billionare:
Quit work. Go to school full time and get it over with. Buy a big, new house, and then set out to do good things with the money. Feed the needy. Wipe out all of the people who hurt children. And somehow, convince Cold Play and Keen to quit making music. IT IS FOR THE GOOD OF THE WORLD, PEOPLE.

Places I have lived:
Texas, Texas and Texas. Did I mention Texas? Because yeah…Texas. I'm not what you would call a "world traveler". Or even a country traveler. I've been out of Texas a few times in my life. I KNOW. I am working on it!

I suck at tagging folks, so if you're reading this, you're officially tagged.

 

 

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Plans, Cleaning, and Driving My Husband Crazy

We've got a rather special occasion coming up soon, and, well, I…I hate to spoil it by just yelling it up front and all, but let's just say that a little someone in my house is about to have a lot of people over, and we have to do some things to get ready for these people.

That's right, folks: my carpet has a date. With the steam cleaner. It will get hot and heavy, I can guarantee it.

I really, really hate having my carpets cleaned. It seems like it takes hours for them to dry; we have to put the furniture up on blocks for a day or two because apparently, my couch needs an oil change, and while you're under there, can you rotate the tires too, please? Thanks. But the carpets, they need it badly; between the two cats that have no other purpose in life than to shed and hork up hairballs on my carpet and the three year old that doesn't understand why mommy needs the juice to stay in the kitchen, the carpets are a mess. The steam cleaner guys come out, work their magic, and ta-da! I have beige carpets again instead of, uh, grey? Whatever color they are now.

Sarah turns a year old at the first of June, and we're going to throw a party, but that also means that we've got to get some things done around the house. Like getting new patio furniture (and by new, I mean ANY patio furniture). And one of those tent/gazeebo things to shade us from the volcano we call The Sun here in Texas. And artwork to match the recently changed up living room. All of this adds up to Mike having to do things, and while he's generally happy to hang, assemble, and clean, I have a feeling that I'm getting on his nerves when I'm looking at YET ANOTHER lawn furniture set. He would like me to MAKE UP MY MIND already and also, just freakin' get stuff done instead of talking about it OVER and OVER and OVER. What can I say? I like the planning just as much as the actual doing. I'm weird like that. But he's getting geeky things out of it, like speakers mounted to the outside of the house and speaker plates inside. And it's forcing me to de-packrat a bit, so he can't complain TOO much.

Speaking of, I need to order a cake. Gak!

 

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