Saisquoi?

I don't get as much time with C as I would like to have. It's the biggest struggle I've had since becoming a mother and returning to work. I hesitate to even refer to it as work/life balance because such a thing is not possible with an impossibly cute and naughty toddler on one side and a 40 hour per week plus 45 minute each way commute on the other.

My solution has been to make the most of our all-too-limited Mommy-Daughter time and build in some special routines. Currently, Saturday mornings are ours. We get up early and go to the Farmer's Market. Sometimes we go to the playground. Then we go out for breakfast. It's not huge, but it's ours. And it's special.

Also special? Watching your kid DEVOUR eggs and homefries. If you're ever at the Friendly Toast, C highly recommends the Guy Scramble. She thinks it would be really great with coffee, but Mama isn't quite ready for that level of special.

I have very clear memories of my First Communion. I was ten years old and it took place during the Maundy Thursday at the Lutheran Church in town. I remember the dress I wore--it had a dropped waist and tiered skirt and was covered in cabbage roses. (Hey--it was 1987. If you think back that far, you may have had one JUST LIKE IT.) The whole family went to church. It was a BIG DEAL.

Preparation involved extra classes and the ability to recite the books of the Old and New Testaments. To this day, I cannot tell you why I needed to be able to tell you all the books of the Bible in order to participate in Communion, but there you go.

What I don't remember is what I actually thought of Communion once I was able to receive it. Which is funny because I clearly remember what it felt like to be excluded from The Table. And it isn't just me--my sister has very similar memories. And a much better story which I'm going to tell because it really is that important.

When I was in the second grade...my sister was probably three years old...my mother was hospitalized on Christmas Eve with toxic shock syndrome. My mother was the organist for the Roman Catholic service at the Air Force Base where we lived. Christmas Eve is not the best time to be without an organist, so a friend of hers substituted during midnight mass, and my father helped by bringing his trumpet. And, of course, my sister and me.

During Communion, Dad was playing and no one was really watching my sister. She took the opportunity to go up to the priest (a friend of the family) as he was handing out the Body of Christ and ask him for "one of those Bread Things," which, of course, she could not have because a) she was not Catholic and b) she was only three, and, therefore, uninitiated into the ways of Holy Communion. But, being three, she didn't understand why everyone else got to have one except for her. So she continued to pull, and cry, and plead, "But Father Jim, I want one of those Bread Things--Give me one of those Bread Things!" The priest is laughing and has tears coming out of his eyes as my father goes up to grab my sister and haul her back behind the organ...still wailing for one of those Bread Things.

As an adult, I understand that the idea of First Communion was very important to my mother. It was familiar to her. It was what she knew. But, as an adult, I have trouble with a theology or a liturgy that denies participation based on age or expertise or comprehension. If we are all the Children of God, we should all have a place at the table, regardless of how old or experienced or smart we are. So I decided that C would get to have Communion when she was ready. And that I would know she was ready when she could recognize exclusion.

What I didn't expect is how early children know that something is going on without them. I was thinking maybe when she was two or so. When she would be able to verbalize wanting one of those Bread Things. But last week at church I watched her during Communion, and I watched the wheels turn in her head and the look that said "Everyone is getting something here but me." And so even though she's only 13 months old, she's ready.

Yesterday was my daughter's First Communion. She didn't have a special dress, and she can't recite the books of the Bible. She will have no memory of her First Communion. But she will have no memory of being excluded from the table.

She may not remember her First Communion. But I will.

Like many families in daycare, we've had our run-ins with the modern day scourge of conjunctivitis, or PINK EYE. A week ago Friday, I got a call at 9:30 to please come and pick up C because she had goopy eyes. We called the doctor's office and they prescribed Erythromycin ointment over the phone. We dutifully smeared it in her eyes three times a day for a week. Yesterday, I got a call at 1:30--please come and pick up C because it looks like she has conjunctivitis again (still?).

Because you cannot really fight with daycare over the phone about whether or not the discharge coming from your child's eye is, in fact, PINK EYE, I went and picked her and called the doctor's office. They agreed that she should be seen because the PINK EYE should be gone after a week of antibiotics. But, alas, no appointments. So we could either wait and go this morning or go out to the walk-in/ERgent care clinic. I didn't believe she actually had PINK EYE that needed antibiotics, so we opted for the walk-in, hoping I'd be able to go to work today.

Here's what I wanted to have happen:

Dr: What's the problem?
Me: Goopy eye. She was treated for conjunctivitis last week and finished antibiotics on Thursday. She's had a cold and I think her father has a sinus infection. I wonder if her eyes are just draining from her cold?
Dr: It doesn't look like bacterial conjunctivitis--there would be more drainage if it was. I'll write you a note so she can go back to daycare.

Here's what actually happened:

Dr: What's the problem?
Me: Goopy eye. She was treated for conjunctivitis last week and finished antibiotics on Thursday. She's had a cold and I think her father has a sinus infection. I wonder if her eyes are just draining from her cold?
Dr: It doesn't look like bacterial conjunctivitis. Usually the pus is just running down their cheeks with that. And if her case last week was viral, then the antibiotics wouldn't have done anything for it, anyway. I'll write you a prescription for another 5 days of antibiotics and we'll see what that does.
Me: ?????

So my kid, who the doctor verbally indicated probably does not have bacterial conjunctivitis, has an "official" diagnosis of bacterial conjunctivitis, a different flavor of eye ointment to be applied three times daily for the next five days, and a day off from school. I have a not-actually-sick child and a day off from work. I also have a cold--so, at least one of us is actually sick on our sick day.

I'm hoping to get some knitting done on my Owlet for the Knitting Olympics. I figure if I can finish the neckline tonight and get some work done on the body, I may actually have a shot of finishing by the closing ceremonies.

C also seems to enjoy cooking, so I think we'll do some of that today as well. I'm thinking maybe we'll make meatloaf and mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables for dinner tonight. It's funny. A year ago, she was helping me cook dinner by sleeping in the sling while I baked. Now, she rifles through the cabinets and bangs on pots with a wooden spoon. She's already on her way to becoming an excellent cook, I think.



Or a fine eater.

I have always been a crappy correspondent. I mean well--I really do--but I'm easily distracted and caught up in that thing called life. And time gets away from me...along with other things.

Here's my current distraction:



How can anything compete with that degree of cuteness?

C, my little Tadpole, hit the one year mark just a few weeks ago. She is a charming, clever, busy, loving little girl. She's standing and cruising the furniture, but has yet to take her first independent steps. That's OK. They'll be coming soon. I'm not in a hurry, particularly considering the trouble the little mite can stir up without the ability to walk.

It's been quite a year. I still knit, occasionally. It takes much longer to finish things. I'm still knitting the Noro scarf I started the day I went into labor. It's the distraction thing again. Sometimes C just needs a hat. And I have to oblige her. And I'm learning to make dolls. And there's spinning. Plus, I'd really like to learn how to weave...

But all in good time. Right now, keeping track of C is plenty enough most days. And then there are the cats. We lost another this past fall--Gabriel fell ill and was gone within a week. It was really hard on the Beloved, and I think the hardest part was the feeling that we didn't give him enough towards the end of his life. In spite of saying our feelings towards our cats would never change even with the baby...they did. C demands all. And, largely, she gets it. Which means there isn't much left for our rather high-needs cats.

We still have Winston, and (as you can see above) he and C get on quite well. I'm really hoping that her chronic bronchitis is not due to a cat allergy because she loves her "'at." And he loves her right back. Piper remains the crazy cat and mostly hides out in her room, but comes out on occasion. C is not permitted to play with her as we refer to Piper as "Danger Cat." But she tries.

And so things continue. We've cut our first teeth over here in the past week or two and it looks like they're all planning on coming in at once. C hasn't been much for sleeping through the night since I went back to work, but between the teeth and the latest round of lung crud, there is not much sleeping going on at all in this house. I keep saying that I'm going to clean out her bedroom and work on moving her in there, but really? I'd miss night-time cuddles with my girl and I'm not sure I'm ready to boot her out of our room and out of our bed. I keep hoping she'll show some sign of wanting to transition on her own, but no such luck. It will happen eventually, but I don't really want to push it. It really does go by too quickly.

Don't look now, but there might be some knitting on this here blog...



Yes! Look! Knitting! I finished something! Great God Almighty!





This is the Scrappy Socky Stripey Cardi from f.pea, using Yarn Pirate merino sock yarn in the (wait for it) Sweet Pea colorway. (Note: I have an overabundance of sock yarn, if such a thing is possible, and am forever looking for patterns that can use variegated stuff. For some bizarre reason, I currently like baby and toddler sized items. Feel free to leave me suggestions.)

I made a couple of modifications--the most noticeable being the absence of stripes other than those caused by the variegated yarn. The reason for this mod? I was lazy and didn't feel like searching out a matching contrast. The yarn was busy enough. If I knit it again in a bigger size, I'll add the stripes for visual/knitting interest and also because I used almost an entire skein of sock yarn for this sweater and so will need to add more next time around.

Also, The Tadpole has chunky arms. Too chunky for the pattern as written. So, I added some extra stitches and decided against using the decreases. The sleeves are a bit long, but I actually like them wide.

I loved that this sweater had NO SEAMING. The only sewing I did was to put the buttons on. I'm not crazy about the button loops, but I haven't decided what I'd like to do to make them better. Something to think about in all my spare time, I suppose.

Overall, a cute sweater. The way the yarn pooled? I couldn't have planned it any better. i love it. However, I should have made the sweater one size bigger than I did because The Tadpole will have outgrown it by, like, tomorrow. She's not very long, but she's a solid baby. So, while there's plenty of length in the sweater for her, she's already stretching those button loops. Oh well. Live and learn.

Now I have to decide what comes next on the knitting agenda. I have yarn for soakers, and she needs soakers since she's outgrown all of her diaper covers. And she may be ready to wear wool now as (knock wood) I think she's down to pooping only two times a day instead of, like, seven.

But, gasp, I also have a hankering to knit myself a sweater. Seriously--I bought the yarn and the pattern well over a year ago. I meant to knit it while I was pregnant because it would have worked over my bump. But it would still be a very useful sweater for nursing. And I could wear it if I ever decided to do this grow-a-baby-thing again.

So, what do you think? More cute stuff for my cute kid, or something for the Mama?

Still no finished knitting to show you. If anyone is still there. Bueller...Bueller? Yeah. Anyway.

I've struggled over the past several weeks on whether I should shut down the blog entirely or just let it change focus in some sort of mostly natural way. I mean...my life has changed pretty dramatically in the past six months; it's only fitting that my focus would change as well. But does the world need another Mommy blog? Probably as much as it needs the Bebe Gloton, but that's another matter for another day.

Then the question becomes, if the world doesn't need another Mommy blog, do I need to blog? And, while need is a very strong word here, I've come to the conclusion that I miss having some sort of outlet. It's funny--I write all day at work, but don't get to say anything. And I come home to my baby and my husband, both of whom I adore, but both of whom look at me cross-eyed whenever I try to say what's on my mind. Granted, by the end of the day most of my thoughts are a garbled mess of near insanity, but still.

So, I guess, expect less knitting and more ramblings to come. Suffice to say that my deep thoughts currently involve breastfeeding, babywearing, and cloth diapering. The Tadpole and I still go to church, I'm still greatly bothered by the inability of large portions of the human race to GET ALONG and such, but stringing a series of words into a coherent thought has become a Herculean task on most days.

Would I change it, though? No way. I love being a Mom. Like, crazy-love in a way I didn't think was possible. The Tadpole is a rockin' baby and in spite of the mega-sleep deprivation and complete loss of knitting/reading/yoga/self time, I'm having a blast. The only change I wish I could make would be to spend more time with her. My job + commute keeps me away from her 10 hours a day, which is miserable. If I won the lottery this week, I would seriously quit my job, pull the baby from daycare, and buy a Suburu Outback so that I could properly revel in my Mommy-glory. Well, I'd quit my job and pull the baby from daycare, at any rate.

Mommyhood hasn't necessarily been easy, but it hasn't been as hard for me as it is for some. I haven't had PPD and except for the first two weeks of "getting used to things," breastfeeding hasn't been difficult. Pumping sucks (ha-ha--yes, I deserve to be put down for that), but nursing is...good. I have a cheerful and mostly-healthy baby (I suspect we have some allergies in the works, but there's very little I can do about that right now except try to keep my house clean). Life, overall, is very, very good.

Particularly when bananas are involved.

I took the Tadpole to Sears today to have portraits made. She is, after all, nine weeks old and quite a lady. Hey--pictures don't lie:



We have smiling pictures, too:



I think I may have the cutest baby in the world...but I admit a definite bias here.

We've been busy. Every week we go to a new parent group on Mondays and we "play" with some other little girls (2 and under) from church on Fridays. We have other little adventures to the library or the mall or downtown during the week. I'm amazed at how much fun I'm having and am a bit sad that maternity leave comes to an end in two weeks.

Theoretically.

The Tadpole has a spot beginning July 6 at the daycare center at my church. This, of course, does not help me going back to work in two weeks.

My employer has not yet confirmed whether I will be able to come back on a part-time basis until July. Which now means that I cannot give two weeks notice if part-time is no longer an acceptable option.

I'm very torn. I never intended to quit my job when I got pregnant. But I've really enjoyed being home with my little girl and watching her grow. I don't want to miss things like her rolling over for the first time, her learning to sit up on her own, her first steps, because I'm sitting in a cubicle abstracting. So, if I have to quit, I'm OK with it, but I wish it felt less like having to choose between what will work for my family and my employment--particularly in these precarious economic times.

Que sera sera, I guess.

In other news, I've been knitting on occasion, but have nothing to show for it. I started knitting a little jumper (the dress kind, not the sweater kind) for the Tadpole. At this rate, she can use it if she ever has a daughter. I'm thinking if she starts napping again (HA), I might be able to finish it and she may even get to wear it once before she grows out of it.

The next thing I make for her will be at least two sizes larger than her current size.

She's cool, though. And I even bought her a hat because I knew I wouldn't have time to finish an appropriate one before Easter:

It's snowing again.

Sigh.

It's very insulting after the weekend we had. It was sunny and warm. I took Tadpole out in her sling for a walk around town and she charmed everyone she met. Well, everyone who saw her. She mostly slept. And yesterday, she got to wear a dress without a pair of pants underneath--shocking!

But not today.

No Mommy Group today. It was very nice--we got a phone call saying it was cancelled. Which, I suppose, is a good thing--no need for Tadpole and I to head out in the nasty-yuck if there's no place to be. But I was kind of looking forward to the company. And getting the baby weighed. And the trip out.

Oh well.

We'll go out tomorrow morning--I have to get my sugars checked to make sure the diabetes is all gone. We're hoping it's gone. I mean, the baby and I have been baking up a storm (ha-ha) the past couple of weeks. So far, we've limited ourselves to brownies, cake from a mix, and chocolate chip cookies. But, as I really haven't baked anything in several years, we thought it wise to start small.

Tonight we're having cake. And chicken casserole. Hmmm. Dinner is without color this evening...it's all kind of yellow and brown. I suppose if I add mixed vegetables there will be color, right? (Note: If anyone wants the chicken casserole recipe, I can post it. It's very simple. But not very exotic. In fact, it's rather dull. But The Beloved likes it, and it's easy, so remains in the repertoire.)

The Tadpole wants to know what gives with this Daylight Saving Time nonsense. She was very cranky yesterday and today. And cranky baby leads to cranky Mommy. The two of us had a nice nap together yesterday, but that doesn't seem to be in the cards for this afternoon. Although, I found when I strapped her into her Mei Tai, she conked right out. Apparently, Tadpole may nap today but Mommy may not.

Sigh.

I'd be irritated, but it's hard to be irritated at someone so darned cute. Just check out the hat:

More snow today. Wahoo! The weather report reported between 10 and 15 inches and we got that--easy.

So, what exactly do snow days mean when you're on maternity leave? Well, for one, they mean you don't leave the house. This is a rare treat when you're working 40+ hours per week, but when you are always in the house, it becomes a rare form of torture. No Mommy Group today, and no outings for the Tadpole and her rather ill-tempered Mother. Also, Daddy "worked from home" today, which meant he was in the house refusing to do things like watch the Tadpole so Mommy could take a shower, shovel the walkway, or move laundry around.

I'm trying to make the best of it. And, in fact, we had an OK day in spite of the house arrest. Because the weather is so miserable, I figured it was the perfect day for fish chowder which is simmering as I type. Cooking fish chowder with a baby who constantly wants to be held is a unique challenge. I suppose it would be less challenging if I was capable of letting the baby cry, but I'm not. So, prep involved much running back and forth: "Hold on, Sweetie--Mommy's here. She just needs to wash the salt pork/fish/onion off her hands." Hopefully, dinner will be worth it.

I use my mother's recipe, which is from the World War II era edition of the Hood Cookbook. It's very simple and, depending on the price of fish, is not an expensive dinner (it was really cheap for us since the fish was given to us by my parents following a deep-sea fishing adventure undertaken by my dad). Here it is (including my substitutions):

You'll need
1/4 cup salt pork, diced
1 onion, sliced
2 cups diced potatoes
2 to 2 1/2 pounds white-fleshed fish (I used cod)
2 cups boiling water
1 pint milk (I used half-and-half)
salt
cayenne (I used ground black pepper)

You'll do
Heat the diced salt pork in a large, heavy saucepan over low heat until the fat is extracted. Remove crisp pork if desired. Cook the sliced onion in the fat until slightly yellow. While the pork is heating, boil the fish in the water for 10 minutes or until the flesh can be separated from the bones (or until the fish is opaque/cooked if you're working with fish that has been deboned). Cool slightly; remove bones and skin (again, you can skip this step if your fish has been skinned and deboned); save the stock to flavor the chowder. Separate the fish into flakes or dice. Add the potatoes, fish, and fish stock to the fat and onions. Cover and cook gently until the potatoes are tender (10-15 minutes). Add the milk and seasonings; reheat to boiling. Serve chowder with pilot or Boston crackers (I skip the crackers, myself).

It's not a heart-healthy meal, though my mother has made it moderately better by cooking the onions in vegetable oil and using 2% milk. It's OK, but my thought is that comfort food best serves its purpose in its high-fat form. That's what makes it comforting. I don't make fish chowder every day--in fact, I can't remember the last time I made it (when I was pregnant, I'd go out to Newicks for the fish chowder fix as theirs is pretty close to mine and there's no cleanup involved). So, I feel no guilt about cooking with salt pork and half-and-half.

I also plan to make a batch of cookies because my sainted neighbor (hallowed be his name) snowblowed our walkway and driveway, leaving us only our cars and steps to unearth. I cannot properly express my gratitude for this supreme kindness, so chocolate chip cookie bars will have to suffice. I will have to try and hide them from my beloved spouse, who may have served as a model for the Cookie Monster.

All in all, not a horrendous day--even if stuck inside. The good part about the snow day was that it allowed me one more day free of day care worries. I'm scheduled to return to work on April 13 and am having a hard time finding infant care for the Tadpole. Now, if I had not done anything at this point (I return in 6 weeks), I would have only myself to blame. And perhaps I really only have myself to blame for this anyway, but seriously? The baby has been waitlisted since September at my preferred place. It looks like they won't have an opening until June or July. I was in contact with another place who reported having availability when I initially contacted them (in 2008), but when I went for my tour last week, they have a waitlist of 10 (they have space for 24 infants) that they neglected to tell me about via e-mail or over the phone, and they charge $100 to even go on the wait list (Tadpole will not be going there--there are other things about the institution that did not impress me, but I'm not paying $100 when I'm not working for a school that's more of a last resort, anyway).

The Beloved has been very supportive in his own way. Basically, if I have to stay home because we can't find child care, we will be OK. And if I have to quit my job because they won't hold it while I find child care, that's what will have to happen (we're hoping we don't have to go that route). His latest idea is that his mother can come and live with us until the Tadpole can get a spot somewhere, but that plan really doesn't thrill me. I love my mother-in-law, but I have a tiny house and I have a feeling that having another adult living here will send me over the edge.

Fortunately, the Tadpole knows nothing of our grownup worries. She's just doing her thing, and doing it to the best of her ability. And she's being exceptionally cute while she does it:

The Tadpole is getting bigger. She was four weeks old on Wednesday. I thought about posting--honestly, I did. But she's been very fussy this week. I think she may be having a growth spurt, but we'll find that out on Monday at Mommy Group or Wednesday at the One Month Checkup.

She has spent much of the week in her pouch sling (I have this one and another from this company that were gifted to me before the baby was born), which is good because it generally keeps her from screaming, but still allows me to do some things with my hands. Like type this post :) Or knit. Or, God help me, eat something. Her father is wondering if we shouldn't be calling her Roo instead.

I didn't realize that part of the reason women drop so much weight when breastfeeding is because the little tyrant does not want to be put down long enough so that Mommy can restock the stores, so to speak. I've lost about 30 pounds in the past four weeks, and ironically look better than I've looked in years. Well, except for the dark circles under my eyes. And the fact that I really need a haircut, but am not sure how to manage that with Baby. I was out of maternity clothes two weeks after the baby was born and am now finding that my pre-maternity pants are too big. However, I am reluctant to buy new pants because I'm not sure where exactly I'm going to end up.

The Beloved suggests more ice cream.

Anyway. The Tadpole continues to be lots of fun when she isn't channelling Mussolini. We try to go out somewhere every day--mostly because Mama needs O-U-T at some point or she becomes very squirrely. And we're finding that if Mama is happier, Tadpole is happier. Funny, that. Last week, we had lunch in an actual restaurant for the first time with Laura, who is a very brave soul. Laura was also the photographer for this outing, so we thank her hundreds of times over for the pictures.



She also captured pictures of Baby's first yarn crawl. You can't start them too young...

Here we are at the Yarn Basket:



And at Yarn for Ewe:



As you can see, The Tadpole already charms people wherever she goes. According to her Grandma (my mother), I have been blessed with a child just like me--absolutely perfect and angelic when around other people, and saving up all nightmarish behaviour for her Daddy and me. Ah, parenthood.

But I forgive her. Seriously, how could you not forgive this face?

Well, the groundhog has proclaimed 6 more weeks of winter. Good thing the little bastard lives in Pennsylvania--otherwise, I'd be tempted to take PFC Sibling's BB Gun out of the closet and hunt him down.

Last night, The Beloved took out the mirror on the passenger side of his car--sliding into my car as he tried to pull into our driveway. I haven't been out to see what he did to my car in the process. But getting in and out of our house should qualify us for some sort of hazardous pay. We can't see around the snowbanks left by the plow when backing out of the driveway. I'm a little nervous because The Tadpole and I need to make our first "solo" outing today so that I can authorize the doctor's office to release medical information to the short-term disability people so that I may collect a small amount of money during part of my maternity leave. Important, as I've realized that not only do I need to keep the baby clothed, but that I don't really own any practical nursing tops. The button-down shirts I owned would be great if I could button them over my (or Dolly Parton's) chest. I also could do with some more bras as both of us tend to wind up covered in milk after a feeding--even if I cover up with a burp cloth or a towel. The things I never thought of!

At least I know I'm producing enough food for her.

But back to the rodent. I should have seen it coming. We're supposed to get more snow tomorrow--if the storm tracks to the East (or--if the Gods are smiling on us), we should only get 1-3 inches. But, if the storm tracks to the West, we'll be up in the 4-7+ inches range. Super fun as The Beloved has returned to work, so The Tadpole and I will have to try and keep up with the snow as we need to get out of the driveway on Wednesday morning to go for her 2 week checkup. The snowbanks beside our driveway are already taller than my car, making me wonder where the snow is going to go...but it's all part of the adventure of living in New England, yeah? The fun here never ends!

Actually, things here are pretty fun--outside of the weather. The Tadpole continues to amaze me. She is so much fun. Right now, she's taking a nap in my lap while I type. She's fairly laid back, eating well, and sleeping well. She's also starting to be awake for longer periods of time, and she loves to play with her Daddy and me. Playing largely consists of making goofy faces at us, but she does it with aplomb. She also likes to sit in her bouncy chair or in her sling--which means I can occasionally do some knitting. I'm working on a pair of Heelless Sleeping Socks from Knitting Vintage Socks by Nancy Bush and using some Yarn Pirate BFL sock yarn in the June Bug colorway (Booty Club exclusive). However, the knitting is very slow going because the baby is distracting. In the best possible way. Speaking of distracting...I'm sure she needs a kiss just now...

Well, the Tadpole decided to stay where she was until the Bush administration was officially over. I went to the hospital at about 11:00 on the night of January 20, and she was born at high noon the following day (alyson: your guess was closest! E-mail me or message me on Ravelry and we'll talk sock yarn).

I spent the morning in a triage room watching inauguration coverage on NBC--by the time they moved me to the room where I spent the rest of my hospital stay, I didn't really care much about how many balls the President and First Lady attended, who made Mrs. Obama's dresses, or, well, anything else, to tell you the truth.

All in all, though, my labor was very routine and went quicker than I think the doctor expected. I will spare you the gruesome details--the important part was that it ended in this:



As unpleasant as labor, pregnancy induced hypertension, gestational diabetes, and the doubts we had about whether we were able to produce a child were--she was worth all of it. The Tadpole is the most amazing little being I have ever encountered, and her Daddy and I are absolutely smitten.

The fact that she has come during such interesting times has given me food for thought. Unfortunately, my brain hasn't quite caught back up yet--they tell me that sleep deprivation will do this and that eventually I'll be able to hold coherent conversations that do not revolve around my baby's eating and sleeping habits, or my pride in her learning to suck her thumb.

So, instead, I'll leave you with something you may or may not have seen as part of last week's inaugural coverage. Bishop Robinson was invited to give the invocation at the inaugural kick-off celebration at the Lincoln Memorial. You know--the concert aired on HBO with Bono, the Boss, Beyonce, and all? Well, the HBO coverage did not include the invocation. Because I was hugely pregnant, overdue, and way out of sorts, I was irked, but didn't pay it much mind. This morning, I found the text of the prayer and this video:



If you haven't seen the video or read the prayer, I encourage you to take the time to glance through it--regardless of your religious affiliation. While directed largely at our new president, they are words for all of us to remember as we move forward into this new era.

So, my due date has come and gone. While I know that it's pretty normal for babies to ignore their due dates and come when they damned well please...and they frequently please to come late...it's really the one thing I wasn't prepared for.

Mostly because between my age and the gestational diabetes, the smart money had her coming early. Particularly if you add genetics into the picture--she's seriously the first baby in three generations of my family to go past-due.

I can't even tell you if she's thinking about coming out. I spent three hours at the Birth Center on Friday hooked up to monitors because my blood pressure has decided to spike. It turns out, though, that it's worse in the doctor's office than it is over, say, three hours of testing it every 15 minutes. Also, since my bloodwork is fine and the baby is fine, they decided to let her stay put for a little while longer. The other interesting thing I found out? While I was there, I was having contractions every 6-8 minutes. But since they didn't hurt, they sent me home. The other interesting thing? They haven't stopped. So, I've been having contractions every 6-10 minutes or so since then (yes, that would be going on three days now), but they aren't exceptionally painful. They get uncomfortable--particularly in the evenings--but I don't have to stop what I'm doing to focus on them. The Beloved is beside himself, because this is not what the video they showed us in childbirth class was like, so he really doesn't know what to do or expect. Poor guy.

The other thing I found out is that I now get to be on modified bed rest indefinitely. Meaning, until the little bugger decides to come out or is evicted. Tomorrow I have a doctor's appointment where hopefully they will tell me how long she's got to make up her mind to come out before they choose for her. I hate to say that I hope they don't make me wait until 42 weeks, but bedrest sucks. I don't want to watch TV, read, or knit. I'd like to go for a walk or clean the disaster that is my house. But these have been declared off-limits for the time being. Plus, The Beloved is still working, so it's me and daytime TV. Yuck.

So, what have I done with all of my free time? I've finished stuff! The Cobblestone Sweater is finally finished. I have no excuses for taking so long with this--grafting the underarms and weaving in the ends seriously took about 30-45 minutes. I finished it while The Beloved watched The Mission on Netflix. Then he put it on. I don't know if he'll let me photograph him in the sweater--he's goofy like that. But it's a very nice sweater. It wasn't difficult at all and it's not girly or anything. Now he wants something with cables. But he's going to have to wait.

I also finished the round baby blanket I started in October.



I'm pretty happy with how it turned out and I think it will be nice and warm and an appropriate size for covering The Tadpole when she's in her carseat or when we're out and about this winter (assuming she ever decides to, you know, be born). I knit until I had 650 stitches on the needles and then used a picot bindoff. The end result is pretty cute, but the edges tend to curl a bit and it seriously took me three days to bind off all the stitches. The blanket is done in Cascade 220 superwash paints. I can't remember the name of the colorway, but it's mostly pinks and yellows and oranges. It's definitely girly, but not pastel. The Tadpole has way more pastels than I intended--mostly because that's what there is for tiny babies, and particularly for baby girls. So I'm making a concerted effort to knit things in brighter and bolder colors.

She's got a purple bonnet made of Mission Falls 1824 Superwash Merino Wool--it's sooooo soft.



And a little kimono-sweater made from Colinette Cadenza. Instead of making ties, I'm going to sew snaps on it and add buttons.



I also finished off the Child's French Socks I started knitting for myself shortly before I found out I was pregnant.





Now I'm trying to decide what to do next. I've jumped on the Noro scarf bandwagon and have started one of those, but really intended for that to be hospital knitting. However, it may end up being done before the kid decides to come out. Right now, I'm trying to decide whether or not to start sock 2 of an unfinished pair, start another pair of socks, or knit something else for my stubborn child. I have enough Cascade 220 left from The Beloved's sweater to knit her a little tunic and probably a pair of longies. Not to mention the Malabrigo I bought intending to knit longies that's been out sitting in the car. But, as I said, I'm actually so out of sorts that I no longer feel like knitting. I had two false starts on a new pair of socks last night and ended up ripping both out because the yarn just wasn't speaking to me. I don't know whether to give it another go or throw in the towel...Perhaps I'll see if a nap improves my outlook at all.

Or Winter, anyhow.







I'd like to say, my husband is a saint. At 36 weeks pregnant, I'm not really able to help with snow removal. I tried the other day to shovel out around my car and it just made me have contractions, so we're all done with that right now...

We really are thinking about Christmas here, too...in spite of all the snow. I put up a tree:



Please forgive the crappy picture--we haven't had much natural light 'round these parts lately.

I'm home from work today because the plow left us a wall of snow and there was no way I was getting out. Hopefully a) I will not go into labor today and b) the Beloved will be able to get at least one of the cars dug out. Have I mentioned what a good guy he is?

Speaking of him, I've finally, finally finished the Cobblestone Sweater. Well, mostly. I need to graft under the arms and wash it. If I do that today, it might be dry so that I can wrap it and put it under the tree for him. No pictures, yet, but hopefully he'll let me take pictures when the sweater is complete and wearable.

I've also knit a bunch of small baby things. I've got a baby sweater that I've been meaning to finish for a good month and have been working consistently on a round blanket. But, I gotta tell you, being able to knock out a hat, or mittens, or socks in a couple of days is very satisfying.









I think my favorite is the coral-colored hat. The Tadpole will be required to wear hospital garb while we're at the hospital as part of their security protocol. But I can bring a hat for her, so I think I'm going to put that little one on her as soon as I can. She's also got a little hat made from leftover yarn from her coming home sweater, and so that will likely be a going home hat.

The Beloved is bemused with my knitting of teeny-tiny things. Today I plan to work on either the never-ending baby blanket or the unfinished kimono sweater. After I wrap gifts. And do laundry. The baby laundry is almost done--her clothes are clean and put away, sheets and towels are done, and I'm left with baby blankets and diapers to take care of. Of course, I should also make sure that the Beloved and I have clean clothes and linens as well. And perhaps do some more picking up before Christmas Eve when my in-laws are scheduled to come for a visit.

Fortunately, I appear to be nesting. I have to be careful about how much I do--I have moments when my energy level feels very high and I get a lot done, and then my back starts to hurt or I start having contractions. Oops. But there's so much left to do--our house looks like a bomb hit it and I'd like to be a little more squared away before the baby shows up....

We'll see what happens, I suppose.

Today was not a very good day. It's a Wednesday, which means it's a fasting, blood-draw day for me. Plus, I'm now up to appointments every two weeks, so it was lab work plus a visit with the midwife. Seriously--whoever thought it was a good idea to routinely perform fasting tests on pregnant women a) is probably a man and b) needs to have his head examined.

This morning, I was running late. I had to boil an egg and stop at the supermarket to pick up an English muffin and a bottle of water so that I could eat breakfast after the blood draw. (They draw, I eat, and then they draw again 2 hours later to check my sugars.) I got to the doctor's office at about 8:40 or 8:45, checked in with the receptionist and let her know that I needed to have my glucose levels checked and that I had an appointment with one of the midwives at 9:00. Then I sat down and waited. And waited. And waited. Generally, I don't wait longer than about 5 minutes. But it was pushing 15. I figured the lab was busy, and I didn't see the phlebotomist who usually does my blood draws. At 9:00, the nurse comes out to get me for my appointment and I freak out on her.

"But, the lab hasn't called me yet. I'm gestational diabetic and they need to test my sugars. I can't eat until they test me and they haven't called me yet. I need them to take the draw so I can eat breakfast. I haven't eaten in 12 hours and I'm not allowed to eat until they..." You get the picture. I'm listening to this come out of my mouth and it's like I can't stop it. Nor can I control the volume or timbre of my voice which is getting louder and shriller and beginning to shake as I start to cry.

So they took my blood. Blew out one of my veins in the process (that'll leave a mark), but got the fasting draw. And then let me eat in the examination room. Where I proceeded to find out I'd lost 3 pounds in the past two weeks, had sugar in my urine (this hasn't happened before and didn't really make me happy as it could indicate that diet and exercise are no longer cutting it) and then had to try to explain to the midwife why I was teary that morning. Which, naturally, I couldn't do without crying more.

My morning's performance won me a recommendation for Fish Oil supplements, Vitamin D supplements, and a trip to the counselor to make sure my depression isn't relapsing. Oh, and I feel like a complete asshole due to my inappropriate behavior. I was also advised to perhaps take the day off from work and take a nap instead--which I did. I hate using the sick time at this point because I'd much rather use it during my maternity leave, but I think I really needed the sleep.

In spite of everything, the Tadpole keeps on doing her thing. I might be losing weight, but my belly is growing and is apparently measuring "right on." She's busy and likes to kick and wiggle for me, and be perfectly calm and serene for her Daddy. Let's hope this continues after she comes out. Daddy can deal with her at 2:00 AM.

Right now, I'm at 30 weeks. Her due date is January 17, 2009. However, we know that babies show up when they darn well feel like it. So I propose a little contest:

Dear God, it looks like knitting.


Baby Surprise Jacket in "Sweet Lime" Yarn Pirate Sock Yarn

This is the first object I have completed for the Tadpole. OK--she's got a couple of pairs of socks, but those don't really count as at least one of them was knit before I knew I was pregnant. It's also my first venture with the oh-so-popular Baby Surprise Jacket by Elizabeth Zimmerman.



This was a huge leap of faith for me. The knitting itself is not difficult, but EZ did not write in step-by-step instructions. Following a very conversational pattern was not standard operating procedure for my very type-A brain. But I made it--and the next time I knit this pattern (because it was fun and easy and makes an excessively cute little jacket), it should be easier since I know that the amorphous bit of garter stitch really does fold into a garment.

I love the buttons.



I wish I could tell you they were handmade or came from a cute shop, but that would be a lie. I found them at Joann's and I just thought they were perfect.

The sweater is knit in sock yarn on US size 4 needles. I think it will fit a newborn. I'm hoping to use it as Tadpole's coming home sweater. I don't anticipate her being small enough to wear the sweater for very long, but I think it will be very sweet for the time she does get to wear it. It may be a little spring-y for a January baby, but I don't care. I'm happy with it.

I've started another little sweater for her--a kimono sweater--that's sized Newborn to 6 months. The other garments I have planned will be in the 3-6 month size as I don't expect her to stay tiny for long. Eventually, I'll knit even bigger clothes, but I'm reluctant to knit things that will likely fit her this summer as it can get really hot and uncomfortable up here and I'm not sure where the Tadpole will be. The Beloved and I are mostly sure that I will go back to work, but we have begun to seriously consider whether it's worth it for me to go back full-time. Child care is very expensive, and the places where she's wait-listed have told me that March and April are difficult times to place kids. So...we'll see. I think it will depend on what happens with the economy and with fuel prices. If it looks like my entire paycheck is going to be spent on day care and gas to get to work, it doesn't make a lot of sense for me to go back. The prospect is moderately terrifying, but all we can do is wait and see.

The Tadpole appears to be doing just fine. She's a very busy baby--the doctor had a hard time getting a heart rate at our last appointment because she kept squirming away. We go for another ultrasound at the end of the month to check her growth. I believe this is probably to make sure that the gestational diabetes diet and exercise plan is working as well as the weekly bloodwork suggests and that she's not getting too big too fast.

Other than that, life progresses here at Chez Saisquoi. I had a cold last week, which was not the most fun I've ever had. The Beloved has it now. He's decided that he only wants to live so that he can get even someday. But aside from that, life here is pretty good.

Here are the ultrasound pictures of my wee one:



These are a little more detailed:





Oh, and in case you were wondering:



My favorite picture is the one where she's rubbing her face--she looks just like her Daddy when he's still sleepy.

The search for a name continues. My father has decided that he will call her Kapusta, regardless of what we decide to name her. The joys of Russian heritage.

We still have a few more months to think of something...

So, it's taken me getting pregnant to drop a pant size. How wrong is that?

Yesterday, I had my 20-week checkup and an ultrasound. The Beloved went, too. Seeing the Tadpole in action was so. Unbelievably. Cool. As far as everyone can tell from the pictures, the baby is perfect, and we are thrilled. Now we just need to come up with a name.

A couple of weeks ago I was officially diagnosed with gestational diabetes. And last week I met with a nutritionist. She is very confident that I'll be able to control my sugar levels with diet and exercise--and my diet and exercise habits actually require very few changes. So, that was reassuring. I was concerned that I've lost weight instead of gaining (I'm down about 10 pounds from my first prenatal appointment), but my midwife told me I could stop worrying. Tadpole is getting all of the correct things and since I came into pregnancy carrying a little extra weight, it's just being reallocated. Hence, the trip to the maternity store for Medium jeans as the Large ones try to fall off.

Anyway, now that I'm more reassured that everything's OK with my wee one, I think I might be ready to start some baby knitting. And I found my camera and battery, so I might even be able to take some pictures. Wild, eh?

Things are still proceeding as they should. Well, more or less. I'm in the process of removing all normal clothes from my closet and dresser as I keep having moments of insanity when I think they'll fit. Ha. I ordered what will likely be most of my maternity wardrobe earlier this week and need to pop down to the post office to pick it up today.

On Wednesday I had a doctor's appointment and it appears the Tadpole is doing better than me. I'm starting to feel little flutters and the occasional kick here and there. Not every day, but it's reassuring when I feel something going on down there that isn't gas.

I, on the other hand, have developed insane hip/lower back pain. I don't know if it's actually sciatica or if it's just something that falls under the pelvic girdle pain umbrella. All I know is that it's unpleasant. By the end of the day I have a very hard time walking or rising from a seated position. I also can't roll over in bed without waking up and swearing. It's fun stuff. Really. Yoga helps somewhat--particularly the Yin Yoga class I take on Saturday mornings which focuses on joints and connective tissue. My midwife suggested I incorporate more yoga into my day. I'm trying to figure out how I'm supposed to assume a yoga position long enough for it to help my hip/back in my cubicle at work. So, while in theory a good idea...not terribly practical for me. At least not right now.

I also failed my one-hour glucose test, which was cause for more swearing. After I get my "special diet" I need to call and schedule the three-hour. Ask me how thrilled I am. I'm seriously beginning to doubt the conventional wisdom that my body was designed for this.

I'm also awaiting results of my AFP test. Seriously, I will happily take the three-hour glucose test (fasting and all) and even gestational diabetes over bad results on that test.

This is not to say that I am not absolutely delighted to be pregnant. I am thankful every day--hip pain, inability to process sugar correctly, and all--for this baby, which I honestly didn't think would happen for the Beloved and I. But I am human--and I wish that at least part of this could be easy. Oh well.

The other problem I'm running into is an absolute inability to knit baby things. The burp cloth and baby hat lie unfinished on the knitting pile and I can't work on them. It's frustrating. Initially, I thought it was exhaustion. But that's mostly gone now, and I really want to knit. But baby things nearly bring on panic attacks. I start them and find myself exhausted almost immediately. It's almost as though I'm afraid of jinxing something. So, I'm not knitting baby things right now. Or spinning the fiber I bought which is intended to make baby things. I'm going to try and pull out the wheel this weekend and just spin...and I'm finishing up the Beloved's Cobblestone Sweater. Pictures if I can find the battery for my camera...

After that, I suppose I can go back to socks, and I've got yarn for a kimono style sweater that I should be able to wear even with my new figure that I may start knitting. After that, I'm out of ideas. Any thoughts on pregnant-lady knits?

I know I've been quiet for a while.

Losing Polly was very hard. I brought her home today--which was also hard. The Beloved said to me, I don't know if we'll ever find another cat like her. And he's right--we may never find another cat like Polly. It will be a while before I'm even ready to look for another. It will likely be close to a year. The other three cats need some time to adjust because there are some big changes coming down the pike.

A while ago I mentioned that I had figured out why I was so tired all the time. And today I got to hear the heartbeat of our baby (the Tadpole) who is due to arrive in January. It was strong and steady and sounded really, really great.

There's a lot to do between now and January, and hopefully my energy level will start to return. PFC Sibling asked today how many baby items I've knit--she said she keeps reading about Suri Cruise's multi-million dollar wardrobe, and will my baby be in People Magazine for the largest collection of handknits in the U.S.? I'm ashamed to admit that I've been working on a burp cloth and a baby hat for the past month. I've been so tired and I just haven't wanted to knit. Plus, it's been hotter 'n hell around here, lately. God willing, the knitting mojo will return.

I'm hopeful--my appetite is beginning to return. So maybe it's just a matter of time.