At Sarah's Table

Looking for Me?

2010-12-11T11:42:00.000-08:00

I've moved!

You can find my new posts on www.atsarahstable.com. Now that the big switch has been completed, regular posts will once again be forthcoming!

Please remember to update any feed readers that you might be using.

It's good to be back.

Moving Right Along

2010-07-06T16:14:00.000-07:00

It's time to move on to other things. I'm certainly ready. A couple of days needed to go by before I felt right again and by now I don't think much about what happened at the bookstore. I'm reluctant to go into the city on my own again, but I'm sure this trepidation will pass in no time.

I admit that it's surprising how long it took me to move past it. Usually, I spring right back from setbacks, but this one knocked me for a loop. But what's done is done. It helped me to realize that nothing that I or the kids had done had merited his attack. Had we been dancing around him chanting "Evermore, Evermore" we still wouldn't have deserved such intense abuse. My friend said he was a bully and a coward and I think that sums it up very nicely. No one else would go after a woman out alone with her small children. He certainly wouldn't have said those things if my husband or brother had been there (at least not if he had any sense of self-preservation at all).

Speaking of my brother, and moving on to more joyous subjects, he and his unit are back from Iraq! They arrived last Thursday just before the holiday weekend. The armory is about half a mile from my house so I walked there with the kids, pushing the stroller with Henry and a six pack of beer--for Pete. I left early because I didn't know for sure how long it would take us to walk there and by the time we got there I found that I had left pleeeeeennnty early to meet the buses. Still, there were many families there as well as what appeared to be a group or two of volunteers who came to help greet the soldiers. They had everything decorated with flags and music was being piped over some speakers. We waited and waited. My parents arrived so the kids and I waited with them. Finally, the buses pulled up and my brother was one of the first ones off. I didn't think I would be able to tell him apart from the others since, well, they all dress alike, but I could pick him out right away.

We walked over to where they were standing in formation and a general, then the commanding officer, then someone else all took turns saying "Have a nice weekend, relax with your families" before they were dismissed. I was the first one to get to him and gave him a big hug, but he wouldn't rest until he met up with his wife (Really, I can't understand this. Isn't a sister just as good as a pretty wife? ;) ). After we all caught up we just stood around smiling at each other. I have a really nice picture of Pete and his wife, but I haven't asked their permission to post it, so you'll have to do without.

I haven't seen him since because all he wants to do is sleep in his own bed, shower with the door closed, and drink beer (no beer in the desert apparently). He's supposed to call when he's ready for company so I'm guessing he'll be calling around Thanksgiving. It's enough to know he's home and happy.

While we were waiting for the buses, a reporter for our county paper asked if I'd give a quote. I'm obliging, if nothing else, and gamely agreed. The question she asked was how I felt about my brother coming home. I wish I had a better answer than, duh, "Excited." I wonder what she would have said if I'd said, "I feel GREAT! Now that jerk can pay me back that money he owes. I've been waiting to squeeze it out of him ALL YEAR!"

Stunned

2010-06-28T08:10:00.000-07:00

The most shocking and unusual thing happened to me today. Really, I've never experienced anything to equal it. I'm still stunned and I'm not quite sure how to process what happened.

I had the kids out today to take care of some grocery shopping in the city. I thought to swing by a local tea shop to replenish my stash of tea, but the store didn't open for another half hour. To kill some time, I took the kids around the corner to a used bookstore. I wanted to find a specific book on U.S. History and I thought that they might have it. We browsed quickly through the Nature section and then headed back to the History section.

There was one man looking through the general U.S. History already, so I stopped the stroller and stood behind him a bit, trying to scan the titles quickly. After a minute, I tried to see if the books were arranged by author so I could see if the book was there or not--the kids were getting a little rowdy as they tried to entertain Henry into sitting still. I wasn't able to get anywhere, so I asked the man if he knew if the books were arranged by author or not.

He turned around and practically shouted, "Are you kidding me? Are you KIDDING ME? I think you are so RUDE to come back here with your KIDS. . ." and then proceeded to scold me in the harshest manner for DARING to bring my kids anywhere near him. I was absolutely shocked. My skin in still tingling all over from the encounter and my hands are still shaking. I told Thomas and Anna to go to the front of the store, mainly because I didn't know what this person was going to say next and I had no idea what would come out of my own mouth in the face of such confrontational behavior. They went a little bit away, though not quite far enough for my taste.

I wanted to explain that we were only going to be there for a minute and that I was trying to find a specific book and that then we would leave, but I only stammered a bit before he lit into me with a "No! NO! I'm not interested in anything you have to say, so JUST LEAVE." And of course, he was on a roll, so he didn't stop with that. Somewhere in my head I thought, "There is no reasoning with someone so divorced from common courtesy and feeling for others. Just walk away.", but I kept thinking that there must be something to say to help this man understand that I really wasn't trying to piss him off and that, really, I was only going to impose my kids on him for a minute. He was welcome to the History section for the rest of the day, for all I cared. But I quickly realized that there was nothing to say to anyone like this. He was past reason.

He got what he wanted, in the end. We left and I wondered in a numb manner what the life of someone like that must look like. As we walked back to the car, I told the kids, "Remember the people in the stories who don't like children? That man is one of them. You were a little noisy, perhaps, but it doesn't matter because that is someone who can never be pleased."

I'm still reeling from the encounter. I rarely bring all three kids out on my own because it's simply easier to get our few errands run in the evenings by myself. And I thought it would be ok to go to a big used bookstore with less than mouse-like kids. One spends so much time and energy avoiding being a public nuisance that it comes as something of a shock when it happens anyway.

Under Way

2010-06-26T16:02:00.001-07:00

Summer is in full swing now and it's easy to tell because of the sporadic posting. We're outside, walking around the pond, pulling weeds in the garden, and playing in the yard. It takes up most of our time. When I'm finally inside, there's the usual housework to tackle, though the amount I complete is limited with a toddler around.

The other morning I was amazed to find that by 9:30 a.m. I had baked a batch of banana nut muffins and had a couple loaves of bread set to rise from freshly milled flour. I poured my first cup of coffee and looked out the window as I marveled at my productivity. Look at what I had accomplished! And so early! I couldn't figure out why I usually don't seem to manage to do the things that I really want to do. What made all this possible?

I then realized--all three kids were outside. There was no one under my feet and no one demanding immediate attention. There was no one stealthily attacking the computer or table lamp and no one standing on the couch. I was able to be focused and efficient. It was then I realized that I was neither lazy nor unmotivated on a regular day. I was simply overwhelmed! If you remove One Toddler from my home I hit a level of basic functioning. Allow me to take a bow.

Henry is a lot like Thomas was as a toddler. He is full-speed, head-on, faster-faster. He is happiest when he is into Everything and furious when he is not. I think he'll be happier when he's finally able to speak clearly enough for the rest of us to understand. I'll be happier when I can afford to develop a dependence on alcohol. I'm sure a happier Henry is right around the corner but I'm not quite sure that I'll survive until then. If I hadn't had a child like this before I would seriously doubt that a day of sanity would ever come. Thomas is still pretty intense, but at least he doesn't break things any more. At least not on purpose.

In other news, strawberry season is drawing to an end. I've picked about 15 lbs of berries. It's translated into a batch of jam, rhubarb-strawberry sauce, and one poorly executed strawberry pie (ask me why sugar and cornstarch are important). I still have about five pounds of berries waiting to become jam and dessert. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. For now, I'm out of sugar.

The biggest thing occupying my attention lately, apart from the aforementioned toddler, has been homeschool plans. I am a big Planner. I love plans, I love knowing what to expect, I like An Outline. I like to know what things are going to be like. I don't think I'm terribly inflexible, not that anyone thinks they're inflexible, but I like to have a general idea of what MIGHT happen. So, I've been reading a lot about homeschool nuts-and-bolts.

The past few months I've been reading Charlotte Mason's book Home Education. I've read a couple companion books that are written to condense the Home Education book into simple, practical nuggets. I've read blogs and websites about this approach to teaching. I've been hip-deep in writings about Narration, Dictation, Copywork, etc. There are few corners of AmblesideOnline.org or CharlotteMasonHelp.com I haven't explored.

Anyway, all that to is to say that I've been hearing about some wonderful books lately. It makes me wish the kids and I could read all day. The hardest part is that we can't do it all. We can't read every book on every list and we can't follow every curriculum. For history alone there are many, many books that seem so promising--A Child's History of the World, A Little History of the World, The Story of the World, An Island Story, This Country of Ours. . . How do you choose? Thomas and Anna would listen to me read all day, but how much is too much? I don't want them overwhelmed to the point where they don't remember anything we've read!

Of course, at this point there is little fear of really reading too much. I have a toddler to make sure of that!

Uptown Boot Sock

2010-06-08T14:07:00.000-07:00

What is this glory of golden yellow you see? Why it is one of my NEW SOCKS! I'm sure you remember this yarn from earlier, but here it is in it's knitted destiny. It's the Uptown Boot Sock pattern from the book Favorite Socks.

I used Pagewood Farms Denali sock yarn in the colorway Golden. This was a treat to knit. Usually I don't go nuts over how soft a yarn is (Malabrigo? I could take it or leave it.), but I did enjoy how buttery this yarn is.

I loved knitting this pattern. It was a very easy pattern to memorize which made it ideal for travel knitting, if cabling with out a cable needle doesn't faze you. My ONLY complaint, if you could call it that, is that when the foot is being knit, the stitch pattern is on more than half of the stitches. It makes the sock look better, but it meant needing to rearrange the stitches for toe decreases, which I never remembered to do. But the sock was a success and I know I'll love wearing these little rays of sunshine.

Knit Like a Turtle

2010-06-06T08:35:00.000-07:00

I've been knitting slowly lately. I think it might be the advent of summer or perhaps it's all of the stress we've been wading through lately, but whatever the reason my knits have been hanging on the needles longer than usual.

Here's a pair of longies I knit for Henry. I didn't even enter this project into Ravelry, if you can believe it. I thought I'd show you here instead. I knit the toddler size of Picky Pants from Little Turtle Knits.

Normally I would shake my head at a $12 pattern, but in this case it is totally worth it. The pattern covers such a wide range of sizes and is so, so, so well written that the designer has earned her fee on this one. She even incorporates a gusset in the crotch of the pants to make this better than the typical longie pattern. I've knit these again and again.

I used Briggs and Little Heritage yarn in the Brown Heather colorway. Can I tell you how much I love Briggs and Little? This is a yarn that knows what wool is meant to be. This is the wooliest wool and I love the affordable price. I'm knitting a sweater for my not inconsiderable frame and it is only costing me $45. It makes me want to burst into song.

I've also just finished a pair of socks. I'd love to show you, but this silly blogging software is being uncooperative. I'll have to try again in another post. I've been considering a switch to a different format. My biggest complaint with this Blogger set up has been that it doesn't allow me to easily respond to your comments. So often I've wanted to send back an email saying, at least, "Thanks for reading and I appreciate your comments!", but there is no straight forward way of accomplishing it. My husband Peter has a blog and uses a format that lets him do this.

With everything going on I don't know that I'll be getting to it soon, but I thought I'd let you know it's been on my radar.

New Bookstore

2010-05-30T06:42:00.000-07:00

There is a new bookstore open in Hastings.

It's a real hodge podge. The guy is just getting settled in and disorder reigns. But it is loaded with books.

This book, Toads and Frogs, reads amazingly wells. We just found a large toad in our yard two days ago so the interest is high in our house.

I was impressed with how well written this 1942 pamphlet is.

I'm a big fan of Charlotte Mason's book Home Education. Two books that many Charlotte Mason fans recommend are Tanglewood Tales and Wonder Book, both by Nathaniel Hawthorne. I have no idea if the kids will like these books or if they are even old enough for them yet, but I was glad to find this copy on the shelves. I can look through it without having to spend a lot of money ordering it online. I'm sure a free copy could be found on the internet, but I find reading on my computer to be a little tedious. Now, if I had one of those new iPads, it would be easier.

My great-aunt Grace was a school teacher way back in The Day. When she retired, she brought home a couple of the readers she had used in her classroom. She gave them to me when I was a child and I enjoyed reading them. I found one of these Alice and Jerry readers when I was poking around on the shelves. This one was originally published in 1936, but this printing is from 1957. I'll have to check and see how old Aunt Grace's copy is, but it looks identical.

I also found this copy of Editha's Burglar by Frances Hodgson Burnett who also wrote The Secret Garden and A Little Princess. This copy is marked as being printed in 1899.

I also found a couple of children's songbooks. One is called Songs from Childhood from 1927, I think, and the other called The American Singer and the only date I can find in it is from 1948.

There were a couple of other books, but this is the majority of the haul. I was so glad to find these old, obscure books. So many wonderful books have gone out of print and are hard to find and yet I love to use them in our learning.

In other news, my father-in-law continues to do poorly. Please remember him in your prayers. This week will bring an appointment at Mayo in Rochester. We are hoping they have some ideas for treating his cancer. I haven't said much on this blog regarding that situation, but it dominates our thoughts these days. Thank you so much for your prayers.

Arboretum

2010-05-17T18:34:00.001-07:00

These are a few of the pictures we took on our outing today, in no particular order.

Here they are, climbing the stone stairs.

Some pretty orchids:

Mr Handsome, with toddler in hand, at least for the moment!

Into the woods:

Peeking out from a mini-cabin:

Taking a rest in the shade, after their walk up the stone stairs.

Here the kids are, smiling in front of some tulips:

Long Past Due

2010-05-17T17:44:00.000-07:00

I've been long absent from my blog and I know it.

It started out as a somewhat planned break as my attentions turned to other things, namely my dear father-in-law's struggle with cancer and posting health updates to a website for friends and relatives. My father in law is finally home for a short respite in his treatment. We are praying that he will be well again soon. But, then the planned month slid into two and now I find myself sliding into a third. I'm ready to come back now. I'm putting on my big girl pants and getting back to it.

I spent a month wading through homeschooling curriculum. I spent hours reading through blogs, articles, books, and websites on different products and methods each promising in turn to make my life easy and my child a genius. Awesome. I love it when money can buy easy solutions. At least when there's money to be had.

In any case, I bought books (lots and lots and LOTS of books) and now I'm settling in to go over my list and I'm making plans to get an outline ready for next year. I'll need to browse through our history/geography books and get an idea of the areas we'll be covering.

I have also been planning how we'll be spending our summer. We frequently go for walks through a local park. There are paved paths which wind around a shallow pond and there are many things to see. Last week Anna spotted a baby turtle swimming through the water. Its shell was slightly larger than a quarter so it must have been newly hatched. I have guide books on trees and animal tracks and wildflowers. Thomas and Anna will enjoy looking through them, even if they don't become expert naturalists. I think that this book will be fun for the kids, too.

It might seem like a lot of books, but honestly, Thomas really loves books. He gets most of his ideas and plans and information from books. Most of the time, if I just have the books available he will find them and read them in an afternoon. It makes my job very easy. Except when he gets this Really Great Idea about how he can build a real train and give Henry, Anna, and me rides and how he will be able to use his train to move packages! And he doesn't understand that this is just not something we can help him to do. The time he got into Calvin and Hobbes wasn't so great, either. Hm, or those Peanuts/Charlie Brown comics. Hearing him call Anna a 'Blockhead' was funny the first time, but it got old quickly.

Peter is taking a vacation from the Madhouse this week. We are staying close to home and putting a heavy emphasis on relaxation. Wish us luck. Today we went on a trip to the Arboretum. We had a wonderful time. I packed a lunch and the kids spent most of the day running down the paths shouting, "Really, I'm quite overwhelmed!" and "Mommy, isn't it a GLORIOUS day outside?" and "We could explore and explore every day for a YEAR and never see it all!" I need to stop letting them watch British BBC movies. And I'm definitely nixing the Masterpiece Theatre productions as well. And lest you think that I'm raising Little Lord Fauntleroy and PollyAnna Whittier, you might enjoy knowing they fought with vigor and passion over an empty Almond Extract bottle this afternoon. Ah well. It wasn't as bad as Henry's persistent screams in the van on the drive home.

I'll see if I can find some nice pictures to post of our outing today.

Water Washes All Things Away

2010-03-31T20:13:00.001-07:00

I am a lucky girl.

After a year (or more) of working around a washing machine that literally ate holes in our laundry we were finally able to replace it with a HE washer. Hurrah. The up side is that I can retire the delicate bags I had been using to protect our nicer clothes from the jaws of doom. Laundry is much easier when all you have to do is toss it into the machine and let 'er run. It feels weird, but very nice. I'm taking it for granted that the machine is actually cleaning the clothes, though I don't know how this is even possible with such a small amount of water. I use more water to spot clean after embarrassing salsa incidents. But whatever. It line dries before I even have the clothes pins snapped on so it has to be ok.

The drawback to all of this technological luxury is that I have no idea how I'm supposed to get the cloth diapers clean. Let's just say that the "Heavy Soil" setting doesn't even begin to imagine that you'd want it to clean off POOP. The machine sits there like a spoiled debutante with a wrinkled nose and says, "You want me to clean what?" And I say, "Yes, I do, Cupcake! Try again."

Have any of you advice on what it takes to get one of these fancy-dancy washers to clean cloth diapers?

With my old washer, I'd run a shorter load with cold water and then run a longer load with hot water and an extra rinse. That was it. If it was extra toxic, I'd run another short load on hot, minus the dry bag and any other waterproof things. Tonight, with the new machine, I tried a prewash, a regular cycle on warm, and an extra rinse. All this with the "Water Plus" button pushed because the extra water is really necessary with the diapers. The big drawback is that this took nearly TWO HOURS to complete.

Can you help me? Please tell me what you know!

All That Shines

2010-03-26T05:51:00.001-07:00

It's too bad, but these pictures really don't do this yarn justice. They may begin to give you an idea, though, of the knitterly joy I have been experiencing these past two weeks. This yellow is absolute glory.

It's soft, which doesn't always impress me, but it feels like I'm knitting with butter or daffodil petals. I was knitting on the patio the other day, watching the kids play, and the color was like medicine. The whole world seems better when you can just soak in some sun and ignore your problems for a while. Of course, now that Henry has figured out how to climb the slide there will be much less relaxing and virtually no knitting from now on, but it was great while it lasted.

I finished the first sock last night but I'm going to save pictures until they are both complete. However, the complete satisfaction that the first sock gave me when I put it on is the very reason that people take the trouble to knit socks in the first place. Happy Day.

I'm a Beginner!

2010-03-15T11:16:00.001-07:00

I think it's good for people to be beginners at something from time to time. I don't mean just "trying it out", though that's fine, too, but to begin learning something with the intent to become skilled at it. Cooking, origami, knife-throwing, whatever. It keeps one's mind open and spirit humble to be a student at the feet of an expert. I think it's good for the ego to mess up the perfect attempt.

Six years ago I began knitting in earnest. Apart from learning the basic knit and purl stitch, learning to be a Knitter involves a lot of beginnings. Fair Isle, sweaters, socks, short rows, lace, cables--you name it, there is always a new aspect to explore and new places to 'begin'. To develop a skill you always need to start from the beginning.

This weekend, however, I became a true beginner again and started from square one in a whole new area. At the same time, I kept a promise to myself that I would learn this new skill before I grow old. This weekend I learned to spin. On a spindle.

I remembered what it is like to be an absolute beginner at something. All of one's movements are awkward, pre-planned, and inept. It is a truly humbling experience to start down the road towards one day, hopefully, knowing something. I know that there is going to be a lot of mangled merino between here and my future skeins of glory. Luckily, after so many years of knitted patience, I know my own determination and I know how to learn.

It doesn't look great. I know it looks like something one might pull out of the bathtub drain. But it's a beginning!

Now, what do you guys know about spinning on a wheel vs spinning on a spindle? Because when I get some money together, that could be the next step!

Of course, when one is in the weak, clumsy stages of learning something new, it helps to be reminded of something you're good at.

Pattern: Lyalya Hoodie
Yarn: A bit of this, a bit of that. Mostly Knit Picks, Wool of the Andes in assorted Rainbow Colors

If you're looking for me over on Ravelry, my user name is sarahgraceknits. I'd love to see you over there! I waste waaaaay too much time on that website. Luckily I'm afraid of Facebook so Ravelry gets to be my only big time-suck.

Humble Homemaker

2010-03-12T07:29:00.000-08:00

I have a question for all you granola munchers out there.

I used to make yogurt a lot, a tradition which fell by the wayside as soon as I realized that I was expecting my third child. I'm ready to pick it up again, happily, but I have a question about the process that the Internet seems at a loss to answer for me.

In every set of directions I find, they recommend heating the milk to 180 degrees and then cooling the milk to 110 degrees to add the starter. I understand why you would want the temp at a certain point for the starter, but why would one heat the milk to 180 to begin with? If I am using store bought milk I wouldn't need to pasteurize it, so what is the point? I don't get it.

If any of you know why I would need to do this, can you please enlighten me? I would love to know!

The Journey of 1000 Blogs Has Led Me Here

2010-02-22T12:39:00.000-08:00

There are so many reasons that I love the blogs I read. They provide me with company, comfort, and cohorts. I love the advice I get from the moms, the stories of other families, and the sneaky exploits of other knitters.

This time, The Blogs did not let me down. I was reading Erika over at Redshirt Knitting when she posted about her latest sock. It is an explosion of yellows and oranges, like orange juice for your feet. It is just the thing I always admire, but seldom choose to knit for myself. This time, though, when I saw the storm of sunshiney brightness flash up on my screen I knew that I must knit it. Now.

Let's face it. I live in Minnesota. Like Wisconsin and South Dakota, the winters here are hard, long, and brutally gray. Weeks can go by between sunny days and after a while one's retinas become starved for even a flash of color. Anything but white or steely gray.

On Erika's blog I commented on how much I admired her socks and she kindly replied back that a later commenter had seen this yarn for sale at Borealis Yarns in St Paul. I'd never been there before (Surprising since I've been to nearly every other yarn store in the metro area.) so I jumped at the excuse to go.

Oh my goodness. What a terrific yarn store. They had some yarns that I haven't seen in other Twin Cities yarn stores and a decent selection of colors in the brands that they carried. The staff was helpful and the store was full--FULL, I SAY--of knitters coming and going, sitting and talking the whole time I was there. They had a whole WALL of Jamieson Shetland wool. They must have stocked every color Jamieson makes (this is important because the subtlety of the colors is hidden by a computer monitor and it must be seen in person, in my opinon). There was another wall that was ONLY SOCK YARN. And it was a big wall, too. I can't believe I'd missed this neighborhood shop for SO LONG. Forgive my caps, but I was amazed. I am in the first blush of love.

Anyway, they carried many, many colors from the company that made Erika's sock yarn, but sadly they didn't have the exact color. There was another one that was close and I nearly bought it until I saw this beauty sitting in a tub by the front window.

I think you'll be coming home with me, my pet. You're so pretty. And yellow. Sigh.

Tired

2010-02-18T08:13:00.000-08:00

This morning I have had three cups of coffee, spent a half hour exercising on the elliptical machine, ran out to the cold, cold garage to retrieve some canning jars and I am still, still tired. I can't get over how tired I am. Soooo, soooo sleepy.

The first among you to suggest that I'm pregnant will get kicked in the shin.

What do you do to wake yourself up when sleep is threatening to take you down?

Hair Cut

2010-02-16T10:58:00.000-08:00

I think my blog may have hit a new low for interesting content, but I'm going to post anyway. With my favorite blogs, I like to see updates, even if it's just "this is what I made for dinner and this is the color of my socks".

So here is my quasi-interesting post for the day. Last night I got my hair cut. Short. The front of my hair is now chin-length and the back is a bit shorter. The only true significance is that yesterday I had hair that reached nearly to my waist. I had meant to take the obligatory before/after pictures, but my day was thrown off by Anna's ballet class in the morning and a surprise dinner invitation from my parents. Before I knew it I was sitting in the salon chair having my hair removed when I remembered that I was supposed to have taken a picture earlier that day. Oh well. Imagine long, long hair and now imagine short, short hair and you'll just about have it.

My hair had reached the tipping point. I couldn't bear to have it so long because it was becoming my Fourth Child, difficult to manage and in need of thoughtful consideration. Eventually I knew I would find myself on Oprah having a Drastic Makeover with some cosmopolitan hair dresser using words like 'soft layers', 'gentle highlights', and 'backside of an angry squirrel". So The Hair had to go and on my own terms.

I've had the same young woman cut my hair (using the term loosely--for the past two or three years I've only really gone in twice a year or so) for years now so she knows me pretty well. She knows that somewhere in my house there is a blow drier, but that it would take me more than five to ten minutes to lay hands on it. She knows that I'm feeling pretty good about getting regular showers in again now that Henry is getting bigger. She also knows that I have never, ever been skilled in the use of Product.

Ever since I was in middle school in the mid-80s and had an unfortunate incident with a curling iron and Aqua Net which resulted in a failed attempt at poufy bangs I have been beyond reluctant to take on hair styling again. So I don't. Ta-da. I have the mythical "Simplified Morning Routine" that so many woman's magazines promote. It can't get simpler than "Be clean. Now stop." But I digress.

I went to the salon and told my hair cutter that I needed to go shorter. I would leave it up to her as to whether that meant that we would go 'short' or just 'shorter'. The last time I had been in she said that my long hair was really cute so I thought I would leave it to her. Am I still cute with long hair or is it time for a change? I have to wonder how annoying it must be to have someone sit in your chair and say "I have no opinion. I also have no desire to do any hair styling." I did add, though, that if we went short enough that we could donate my hair to Locks of Love.

So that's what we did. We cut off at least 10 inches to send in and another three inches must have gone off in the styling process. I just can't get over how short my hair is now! I'm not bothered by it, though I wish I'd waited until summer. I am unbelievably cold right now!

Statistics Poetry

2010-02-06T12:33:00.001-08:00

Peter took Thomas and Anna sledding today. We finally achieved the ideal convergence of warm-ish temperature and snow so they seized on the opportunity and headed to a nearby park. They must have had a thrilling time because I was given two accounts of their morning out at the same time.

Later on I learned that my oldest son is a boy of many talents, one of which includes the writing of poetry.

He discovered my old electric typewriter in the basement and has been hammering out all sorts of messages. It's like living with the young Edward R. Murrow. When he had warmed up from his snowy escapades he went down and typed out this gem:

120 steps to climb the mountain
12 times sledding down
2 times down alone

My favorite part of his post-sledding narrative was when he told me he fell over when going down by himself. And how he has a hard time controlling the sled. So the next time he went down by himself with Daddy.

Hanging in There

2010-01-20T08:44:00.001-08:00

It's been a while since I've posted, I know. We haven't been terribly busy, but at the same time we've been slogging through a lot of troubles. It's amazing how trials and tribulations can bog one down so that days pass by unmarked as one tries to simply get by.

Have no fear. Life may be tramping right over my head right now, but if I stay right in this moment, I find that it is exactly what I can handle.

And this moment brings knitted victory. Well, maybe not victory, but at least satisfaction. So I will dwell on that.

This is a baby/toddler vest (because Henry is now toddling). I used a free pattern from Crystal Palace. I like the style, though check my project notes on Ravelry if you are considering making it yourself. I used ONE SKEIN of Encore Colorspun yarn (just over $6--I am thrifty). I modified the ribbing around the arms to a rolled edge to make this work out. It fits him well. I'm not usually a fan of acrylic (it usually feels like plastic and I don't care for the static electricity it generates), but I really like Encore for kids' clothes. It washes up well and it seems to like the dryer, too. It feels soft and fluffy.

I used random brown buttons from my mom's button bin. They don't match, but it doesn't matter to me since this is a casual, every day vest. One could even say the buttons add a funky, eclectic feel to the vest, but I won't since I'm really not that hip. Neither is Henry. Adorable, but not hip.

I love those green eyes!

A Mind Unfocused

2010-01-07T15:14:00.001-08:00

I left the house today. It was the first time since Sunday that I walked out my own door. It was such an occasion I put on my fancy pants (jeans) and a clean shirt. I even wore shoes, remembering to change out of my slippers.

I just bought Cathy Duffy's book 100 Top Picks for Homeschool Curriculum. I spend the last four days marching through this book, making notes of books and programs that sound promising, struggling against interruption after disruption. Today I finished the book and arranged to leave the house so that I could review my notes and re-read sections that were plowed through so quickly that I'm pretty sure I missed something important.

I came to the coffee shop tonight, sat down with Peter's laptop, my coffee, and books. I got all prepared to dig in. Then I realized that over the past four days I have lost my ability to focus. The hazing from small children gets my martial gaze fixed on the topic at hand. I wonder if I handed out gift cards if people would start screaming and throw cups of milk off of the table or need an apple cut up? Maybe then I could focus again.

***

Here's a question for all of you homeschooling moms. Where do you go to find curriculum choices? We have a homeschooling conference in Minnesota every April. It seems to be ok, though a lot of the vendors are more focused on selling character development tools than on academics. Personally, I have a Bible and The Andy Griffith Show--that's all the character development help I need for my kids.

I need something to teach Anna how to read. They need to know where Iraq and Saudi Arabia are on a map. I need something that uses real books and worktexts and I need something that can teach them both, to some degree, at once. I need to know where the Homeschool Curriculum Mall of America is. I need to know where to look, where to shop, and where the good stuff is. I need help knowing how to even PLAN a curriculum for a year. This year we used Sonlight and there were things I liked a lot (like not having to plan the lessons) and some things that seemed weak to me (though this could be due to using the Kindergarten level curriculum).

Can you help? I'll take any (positive) advice you would like to give! Believe me, this won't be the last time I ask.

I'm the Girl Your Mother Warned You About

2009-12-31T20:15:00.000-08:00

It's the end of the year so that means it's time to update the kitchen wall calendar. Peter is always trying to get me onto a high-tech, on-line, Google-driven organization Master Center, but his method hasn't really ever taken with me. I like my calendar. I like that it's inexpensive, non-electric and easily accessible. The simplicity can't be beat. But mostly, I like the Ritual of The Half Price Calender that happens every year after Christmas.

After Christmas when all of the early birds have selected their calenders for the year and all of the gift givers have purchased their gift calenders I walk into Borders to riffle through the shelves of Fairy, Harry Potter, and Labrador calenders at 50% off. I don't like a lot of choice. I get bogged down as I try to decide if I'm the sort of person who wants tulips on her wall all year or if I'm the sort that likes Arts and Crafts architecture photography. So I wait until the cusp of the new year and I go to see what's left. Last year the only reasonable calendar they had was one of Scenic Minnesota photos. They had a Sierra Club one, too, but I'd done that a couple of years before and I was looking to branch out.

This year there were slim pickings and I walked away with a calendar of Scenic New England. New England beat out Lighthouses of the Great Lakes and another with paintings of leaves each month. I liked the paper, though, so it was a contender.

Peter and I were joking about how dull we are and it occurred to me that I'm the sort of person who has a tremendously good time playing Scrabble with people on my husband's iPhone and that I look forward to buying calenders with seasonal nature scenery. "Really--you're a ton of fun", Peter joked. "I bring the fun--no, I MAKE the fun", I responded. I am a fun girl.

Then Peter told me that a couple we know is planning on visiting 9 bars and pubs tonight. You know, to celebrate. I asked Peter how dull a person has to be before actual "fun" activities sound like they aren't any fun at all. Party? I'd rather polish my coin collection and pick fuzz balls off my knitting.

I was telling Peter how one could make an evening of parties and bars more fun. Before the Big Night, visit all of the bars you are interested in attending. Pick the top four. Then, on the big night, go to the first one. Try to have as much fun as you can in a group of loud, drunken revelers and if it's not a good time try the next one. If that one's a bust, try a third. If you're still not having fun, it might be best to give up and go have some hot chocolate at home. With any luck you'll be able to shower the smell of beer out of your hair and be well rested by morning.

I hope they have a good time, but really I think I have this couple beat. I've already transcribed my appointments for January and February into my new Scenic New England calendar and I'm ready to begin an organized new year. Because I am all about having a good time.

I've never been to New England, but some day I might. And now I know all of the places I'd like to visit.

Happy New Year.

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-22T11:14:00.001-08:00

Before I forget, I wanted to post our Christmas card picture for you all, in case you missed it this year.

Merry Christmas to you and your family. I hope you are enjoying all of the trappings of the season as we celebrate the birth of our mighty savior.

Knit Like Lightening

2009-12-15T07:39:00.000-08:00

I think I may have developed superpowers.

In just over 24 hours I have knit Anna a pair of those Felted Clogs that everyone's been knitting lately. I have hands like the wind and needles of fire.

Anna had outgrown Thomas's old slippers and I'd been meaning to buy replacements since Thomas is still wearing the next biggest slippers. Week after week there were other things to buy and her slippers kept getting deferred. There was finally snow on the ground and sub-zero temperatures and I realized that these slippers were just not going to happen.

Happily I still had some purple yarn in The Stash that had originally been aquired for a baby sweater that never got knit. Wool is never wasted so I pulled it out, happy that Anna would get to wear these skeins after all.

I had a little fun with Anna last night as I showed her the first finished clog. "Who do you think I knit this for?", I asked. Anna smiled and said, "Me!" but when she put it on she looked at me and told me that it might be a little big. I laughed and told her that it should fit fine and that in the morning I would show her a magic trick.

The slippers are in the wash now. I can't WAIT until they come out!

Another Stocking for St Nick to Fill

2009-12-11T19:49:00.001-08:00

Here is another specimen of woolly triumph. Anna's Christmas Stocking.

Bartlettyarn, Fisherman 2-ply, I think. Colors are Light Sheep's Grey, Cranberry, and I forget what the green is. The pattern is from Annie's Woolens. After I finished she told me she wanted one like Thomas's. Again, I will say I deserved it for all the grief I gave my mom over the handmade clothing I (had to wear) wore as a child. I accepted her remarks graciously, told her I picked the pattern out just for her and that she and the stocking would learn to love each other. I have every confidence that this will be true. Quite frankly, when Christmas comes and it's full of nuts and oranges and candy I'm sure she won't care if I'd knit the face of the Loch Ness Monster into the side.

I have one more stocking to knit for Henry, but it can wait until after Christmas. For now I'm going to put the finishing touches on a sweater for a friend's upcoming arrival and then I'm going to knit off a whack of hats and a pair of mittens (or two). Oh, but to knit something that isn't red and green!

I want to knit this hat for Henry. Mostly because he's a baby and that means I can put him into whatever fool thing that strikes my fancy.

I want to knit these mittens for me, me, me. It has been about Freezing Degrees Fahrenheit these days and I have been fantasizing about them as I head off to the gym in the evenings. I have also been having longing thoughts about these mittens, too. Have you ever put your hands inside thrummed mittens before? It's like rubbing dark, warm fudge all over your fingers on a cold day. But less messy and way more satisfying.

I haven't been buying much yarn these days as I've been very focused on getting the baby sweater and the stockings done by Christmas. However, I've snapped twice and bought copious amounts of sock yarn that we totally didn't budget for. It's better than going on a bender, I suppose, but I can foresee some Man Sock knitting in my future as well, mostly to convince certain menfolk that sock yarn is a sound choice for the wise investor. After all, we will never have cold feet again! Which is especially nice since who knows if we'll be able to afford heat. Good thing I have all this wool!

The New Century

2009-12-02T17:32:00.000-08:00

My husband has this thing called an "iPhone". It's really his brain, seamlessly integrated with an hand-held device. He uses it all the time, but I'm hopelessly backward when it comes to this new fangled technology. I'm the one in this relationship who thinks the Internet is a passing fad. Like the horseless carriage.

Anyway, Peter has shown me that there are some benefits to this Great Wonder of the Modern World. Online Scrabble. Apparently, you can play Scrabble with strangers from God Know Where any time of the night or day. Amazing. This appeals to my desire to play more Scrabble as well as my deep need to gloat shamelessly. Ordinarily I have to rein in my urges to openly display my triumph, but online, in the anonymous world of the internet I can crow freely over my opponent. After all, he or she can't even hear me! I may be winning against 10 year olds, but hey--winning is winning.

I just trumped some one pretty good. Me: 241, Opponent: 175.

Purple Kitty

2009-12-01T10:34:00.001-08:00

Really, I have no idea where my head has been.

This is the result of having the third birthday in a string of birthdays. You get missed a little. About a week ago, someone turned 4.

Here she is, in her handknit hat that Aunt Rachel made for her. She calls it her Purple Kitty Hat.

Here she is, doing some first rate Meowing for me.

Anna is so imaginative, so full of fun and story that I can't imagine my home without her. I am so excited to see her grow and become the person she is going to be. Happy Birthday, my big four year old.

Meow.

The Burden of Parental Obligation

2009-11-17T14:00:00.001-08:00

For a year, nay, two years, my kids have been begging to make a gingerbread house.

I'm not exactly sure who first put the idea into their wee little heads, but it was exasperated by the presence of a full-page picture of a glorious house of sweets in Betty Crocker's Cooky Book . For years the kids would page through this cookbook, ogling the treats, and upon coming to the Page of Revelation would plead to make the gingerbread house.

There are easy excuses to put it off. It is a seasonal project, and an involved one, so it's not something that can be launched upon a moment's notice. It is easy to say that maybe we can make it for Christmas, next Christmas, next Christmas, Christmas, NOT NOW. And besides, the project in the Cooky Book isn't an actual gingerbread house. It's a house of cardboard that is pasted with candy, frosting and cookies. Not exactly the edible confection that the kids are imagining.

But this year, Christmas is approaching and I find that I am out of excuses. Really, I am. They deserve to have at least one gingerbread house in their childhood and this is the year. Which leads me to my next point.

How do you make a gingerbread house? Eek. Everyone I've asked says BUY A KIT, but one quick perusal of Amazon (aka Mall of The New Century) tells me that this is not truly helpful advice. What, pray tell, is "a kit" supposed to contain? A mold? Cookie cutters? Actual gingerbread? A cardboard house to paste cookies or gingerbread onto? And where do I find a recipe for sheet-like gingerbread from which to make molded or cookie-cut house pieces? I am lost in the woods here. A woods with a gingerbread house in the deepest, darkest part. Help me find it? I'll bring the bread crumbs.

At The End Of Day

2009-11-09T17:38:00.000-08:00

I've come to the end of another day.

It's been one of those days that are far too common when parenting small children. It's one of those days when the kids are finally in bed and while sitting on the couch my only remaining thought is, "Thank God urine is sterile."

You Should Have Seen The Other Guy

2009-11-06T08:25:00.000-08:00

I can't believe it's taken me nearly five days to blog about this. Perhaps I needed a moment to relax before relating the details or maybe I've been busy at the gym, but we had some excitement Monday night. Lord, I am so tired of excitement!

I was getting ready to dish dinner Monday night. The kids were playing in the kitchen and Peter was helping to get things set up. I was turning with a plate in my hand as Thomas was walking by and Boom: Edge of Plate Meets Face. Right near the eye.

My plate was undamaged, but check out my baby.

Three stitches, right in a row. I'm starting to think Children's Hospital should pay ME for all the time I've spent there. It's like my job or something.

A friend of mine has a son who is the true Adventure Boy and has had stitches a number of times. She had told me how well Children's did on one set of his stitches, so we just drove right there. It was a long night, but they did a great job.

Thomas had a bit of a breakdown when the time came to actually DO the stitches, but once he resigned himself to it, he did wonderfully. I've been in an operating room or two myself and I know how overwhelming and out of control it feels to be surrounded by all those strange people. I didn't blame him a bit. It nearly broke my heart to have to do it, but once they started to stitch and he was obviously not in any discomfort (he would have certainly let us know), we both relaxed and it was quickly done.

I managed to go out and snap a picture before the stitches are taken out tomorrow. I'll be glad when that's over, too.

Extravaganza

2009-11-02T11:04:00.001-08:00

My parents had given us pumpkins to make into Jack o' Lanterns. I kept meaning to do it, but somehow it never happened. All week the kids were wound up with excitement and counting the days until Halloween. Is it tomorrow, Mommy? Finally on The Day we were counting the hours, nay, the minutes til Trick or Treat time and we needed something to do. Something for the hands. And so there was the pumpkin. The pumpkin which became. . .

I'll spare you the stripped-to-the-waist pumpkin scraping, face drawing, carving pictures. Even the ones where Henry is gamely eating raw pumpkin chunks. Though his is sooo cute!

Finally it was time. They were dressed in their costumes, the same costumes as last year, and we were ready to go.

Well, almost ready. After visiting two neighbors we had to go home for more outdoor gear. They added fleece jackets under their down vests and wooly hats. I'm not sure how many places in the world children need to have a costume that's compatible with snowsuits and scarves, but Minnesota is one of them.

We went around our block, knocking on doors, dodging dogs (Anna is quite afraid of dogs. Thomas was, too, at her age, so I imagine she'll get past it.), and collecting candy. Lots of candy. They filled their trick or treat bags just circling the block. I remembered last year when Anna exclaimed, "Mommy! Can you believe all these kind people?" It must seem like a magic night to a small child. You walk around your own neighborhood and people open their doors, declare you adorable, and give you candy. AMAZING. And it's not even your BIRTHDAY.

Today I gave up any pretense at rationing the candy. I caught Anna sitting down with her Halloween bag eating three suckers. At once. Ah, the joyful gluttony.

Ah, the stickiness. If you come to my house, be prepared to stay since it won't be easy to get unstuck from the chair.

Question for The Blog

2009-10-27T11:10:00.000-07:00

I've been trying to ignore the fact that Halloween is rapidly approaching, but I think I may have hit my limit with the church's Harvestween party scheduled for tomorrow.

I remember when I was growing up there were a lot of rules surrounding the Culture of the Costume. Rubber masks were the coolest, most everyone's costume was cheaply made, only boys could be something gross or scary, no one's costume was ever very scary. But I remember the chief, #1 cardinal rule of Halloween was that you absolutely, positively couldn't be what you were last year. So this year, when I asked Thomas what he wanted to be for Halloween and he answered "The Cat in The Hat", I balked. Sure you don't want to be a doctor? A fireman? Uncle Pete? No? The Cat in The Hat.

Really, it couldn't matter less to me--we still have the hat and necktie from last year and no one from church saw his costume last year. But I'm worried that when we go trick or treating someone will recognize the costume and say something. I'm not sure what I'm worried that they will say, and I doubt anyone will remember him from last year, but isn't this breaking some rule? Shouldn't he be something new? What would you do?

Birthday Boy

2009-10-26T07:07:00.001-07:00

Look who had a birthday!

My biggest baby is six years old now. He's really turning into a big kid. It seems like he was just a toddler, running around, hanging out in his sling, keeping me up all night. He has been loosing teeth and I swear he just got those teeth a year ago. It is going so fast. It makes me glad that he is homeschooling. It means that I get to enjoy him a little longer.

He is by far my most spirited child. He is determined, persistent and lively. He never stops talking from the moment he gets up in the morning until he falls asleep at night. He loves to have grown ups involved in all of his adventures. He loves to make science experiments and read and write 'messages' for me all day. He loves to learn new things. This year has been all about the food we eat, the weather, growing things in the garden, and gaining proficiency with his knitting.

I'm so excited to see where this next year will take him!

So Crafty and Then Some

2009-10-22T08:10:00.001-07:00

For years now I've been wanting to make Christmas stockings for the kids. I waited until I knew we were done having babies. I wanted to make them a coordinating set and I didn't want baby #4 or 5 to get the Odd-Man Out stocking because I lost the pattern or I couldn't get the same yarn. This is the year for stockings, though. I cast on October 1 in order to give myself plenty of time, but it got done a lot faster than I had anticipated.

Lo! A Stocking!

That's Bartlettyarn in the 2-ply. Colors are Cranberry and something else. The neutral color is Light Sheep Grey. The red is much deeper in person. More like a, uh, cranberry. I suppose I could take a better picture, but it's pretty cold outside. The pattern is Holly from Annie's Woolens. The website says it is a traditional Scandinavian pattern. We do like to get the Swede on around the holidays. Pickled herring. . . yummm.

I've also been pretty busy with the jelly making. Rachel and I got together over the weekend and made a bunch of grape jelly from some of my dad's grapes. The grapes are pretty hit-or-miss, but this was a very good year for the juice.

Last night I did a little experiment. Rosehip Jelly. From my parents' rose hips. I think I'll plant some roses next spring that will give good rose hips. There seems to be some wild controversy on the internet as to the best time to pick the rose hips. I think my dad picked them after a light frost. I got just under three pints from two quarts of rose hips. I can't wait to try it. However, I have a quart of grape jelly in the fridge that didn't get canned, so I think we should eat that before opening anything new. Does anyone have a good recipe that calls for a cup or two of grape jelly?

Yummmm. Sugar.

One Of The Good Days

2009-10-19T12:16:00.000-07:00

This is the first normal day we've had in over a week.

Anna came home mid-week last week. Her fever was relatively short-lived and she seemed to bounce back in about four days. Thomas's fever persisted so I brought him into the clinic. He had developed a sinus infection and some lung problems (Don't ask me the specifics, though. Inflammation? Irritation? Whatever. The drugs will make it better.) so he scored an antibiotic and some lung-medicine. The physician's assistant said he thought Thomas had had the swine flu, but that Anna had had a reaction to the Flu Mist. I don't know. They were both pretty sick, but it's true that Anna didn't match Thomas's 104.05 degree fever.

In any case, they are mostly better now. Thomas just has a cough and a snotty nose. I'm so glad to have them back with us.

We had our first day of school in a week. We did a little math, we read the story of Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt, and Thomas read Frog and Toad Together aloud to Anna and me. Then we went for a walk around the neighborhood collecting leaves for an art project.

I would like to remember Henry in our orange stroller, Anna running along the curb ankle deep in dry leaves, and Thomas pedaling away on his bike with the ice cream pail dangling from his handle bar. It is one of those rare autumn days that is bright and comfortably warm with leaves changing color everywhere. We were very happy with our collection. We came home and I put Henry down to nap and the kids did leaf rubbings. Even now I'm trying to get them to wrap it up so we (or I) can have a rest.

Some days I really like my job.

Another Update

2009-10-12T15:58:00.000-07:00

I'm just stopping in to let you know that Thomas and Anna are (still) at my parents' house, convalescing. They both still have fevers and Thomas has a persistent cough. When I last saw them they seemed to be in good spirits--Grandma and Grandpa's house hasn't lost it's charm yet. They are watching oodles of TV and being waited on.

Needless to say, I miss my kids. I want them to come home! And every news story I see or read sends me into fits of hand wringing as I wait for their recovery.

Sick Little Bunnies

2009-10-10T18:02:00.000-07:00

It seems like it's going to be a slow, lingering sort of autumn in the Casa De Sarah.

Henry's been under the weather all week. There's been a subtle, sort-of cold with a fever on Tuesday that has culminated into a croupy cough with a little wheezing today. Croup. Ack. Remember that? We kept him outside, bundled in the cold, and now he seems improved, even if he's hacking a bit now and then.

The big news is that last night we sent Thomas and Anna for a visit with Grandma and Grandpa. Overnight they developed high fevers and coughs. I called an on-call nurse at our clinic and she said they most likely had H1N1. And that if it's possible at all we should keep them away from Henry.

They are going to stay with my parents another night and then tomorrow Peter and I are going to try to decide what steps we should take next. He hasn't given up hope that this is just a side effect of the FluMist vaccine they received Friday morning. I had thought so, too, but the nurse sounded absolutely confident over the phone that there was no way this was from the vaccine.

I just want them to get better. And I REALLY don't want Henry to get the flu.

Thomas had asked for a break from his math yesterday. I guess he's going to be getting a whole week off, with additional TV time as well. I guess the old adage holds true: "Be careful what you wish for because you just might get it."

Something I Made

2009-09-26T08:48:00.000-07:00

Here's a picture of some socks I finished for Peter. It's the Tesserae Sock pattern from Anne Hanson. I used Cascade Heritage Paints sock yarn. I don't remember the colorway, but it's terrific for a man's sock. It's subtle enough that a sober individual like Peter will wear it, but interesting enough that I don't fall asleep while knitting it.

Peter seems to like them, which is always a bonus. One day the guy may score a handknit sweater from me. But for now, I will revel in the glory of a finished pair of socks.

Happy Day.

It Was Something You Said

2009-09-17T09:23:00.001-07:00

I've always wanted to spin my own yarn. Some of my favorite things in Ravelry are knit from handspun yarn. I often see amazing projects made out of yarn that just can't be bought. I want to make yarn like that! I want my projects to be that cool. It's like I'm in eighth grade again, amazed at the girls who manage to look good in braces. How to they do that?

The process seemed riddled with daunting technical detail, but I was game to try. We have a smallish house, however, with five people vying for space and I was reluctant to bring more stuff under our roof. Later, I would tell myself, when the kids are bigger and I don't have to worry about Henry stuffing fiber into his mouth. Later, when the kids have flown the coop, I'll have more room, more time.

A couple of weeks ago, one of Peter's aunts said something that totally changed my mind. She is in her mid 60s (I think) and is an energetic, intelligent person. But she said something that really shook up how I was ordering my life. We were talking about her trouble remembering how to do new things on her computer. She said that for younger people, you learn things and then you just know it, but when you get older you have to work harder to remember what you learned. It made me realize that I shouldn't put off learning to spin until later but that I should be working now to build a store of information that I can use easily as I grow old. It's important to always be learning new things, of course, but it made me consider the things I want to work at and the things I want to come easily by that time.

I would rather be struggling to learn intricate lace knitting in my 60s and 70s that struggling to remember how to cast on. So, I'm going to set aside time this winter to become acquainted with drop spindles and roving. As I go on, I hope to learn about spinning wheels and that in a year or two I hope to be well versed enough to think about buying a whole wheel. Who knows for sure what will happen? But I'm planning to begin. And I'm glad to be planning a start. I just hope I don't have to move one of the kids out to make room for the fiber stash. There is no room for a fiber stash.

Thinking Ahead

2009-09-13T14:39:00.000-07:00

One thing I like about eating from my garden and storing food for the winter season is how it compels me to plan ahead. If I want tomatoes for winter, I must pick and can what is in my garden today. If I want green peppers for my chili or stews, I'd better get the peppers off the plant today and squirrel them away into the freezer. I know apple season is gearing up so I'd better call the orchard to see if they have bushels of our favorite varieties available. I am thinking about the windfall apples that are available for little money that make very good applesauce. There is a lot to keep in mind when you are gathering your resources together.

I admit that I have myself beat this year, though. I caught myself making a list that I usually don't make until January or February. My pad of paper is sitting next to my bed with "Things to Grow" written at the top and a nice list of vegetables lined up underneath. Here are some things on my list. So far.

Swiss Chard. I've never grown this before, but Rachel assures me it grows all summer and we eat a lot of greens.

Potatoes. I have room for a couple, or four, bushes along the side of the house.

Rasberries. We just pulled up the scabby shrubs in front of the house and we'll plant yummy berries.

Leeks. Again with the yummy.

Zucchini.

Turnips.

Basil. Gotta do it. Maybe 12 plants. I love freezing pesto for the winter.

Green peppers. We love green peppers and they are expensive at the store and often loaded with pesticides.

Onions. My parents had a huge crop this year and it looked really appealing.

Garlic. This is a fall-plant crop. It seems so effortless in spring when the shoots come up like magic.

Dill. I'm not sure this really counts because all of my plants come up as volunteers, but since I freeze the dill weed and dry some dill seed, I think I will count it.

Carrots. Next time I'm going to lay a board over the seeds until they germinate. This will prevent them from getting choked with weeds before they even get started.

Lettuce. We don't often buy lettuce at the store and after a long winter without much for fresh vegetables this first spring crop comes like manna from heaven.

Tomatoes. Usually I have about 12 tomato plants, but the blight was so bad this year that I am giving up for now. I'm going to give it a summer or two before I try more than a plant or two again. Blight overwinters in the soil so it can be difficult to get rid of. So, I'm going to give it a rest next year. I hope to get my tomatoes from my dad (right, Dad? Wink, wink!).

So, this is a start, of course. I may do some kale, too, and green beans (I strongly dislike picking green beans because the leaves make my hands itch). Green beans are so simple to can and everyone likes eating them so how can I help but plant a couple of varieties?

We just have a tiny suburban lot and only a smallish garden, at that. But there's so much that I can grow right at home. What things do you grow for yourself each year?

My Back, In Pieces

2009-09-03T17:58:00.000-07:00

Oh, my Lord, but my back is aching.

It's that time of year again when the most routine of chores get ignored. Laundry piles us, bathrooms go unwashed (to some extent), meals are neglected and floors uncleaned. Canning season.

So far I've put up, let me see, 28 + 14 + 7= about 49 million quarts of tomatoes. There has been a batch of beets and green beans and a batch of sauerkraut Rachel made. She's making more because there is little else in this world Peter loves more than a pile of sauerkraut. We have plans, big plans, for another session of applesauce, too. Yes, the cellar's getting full and ready for winter. If only I had some squash. The long summer days are dwindling and we're making the most of them.

Next week school is starting and we're all ready to begin homeschooling Thomas. We're homeschooling for a number of reasons and it has been a new experience for me to actually make this information general knowledge to family and friends. It's unlike me to step out of line, to do something outside of expectations, and I've been surprised at how little the surprise of other people has affected me.

When I tell most people, I can tell they are taken aback and that there is a lot going on in their minds, but, this being the Midwest, they actually say very little. Universally, what they DO say is, "Well, what about socialization?" The peer interactions in school must have improved since I went through because I don't remember them being all that positive. Sure, I had friends, but the friends I have today are not the friends I knew growing up.

I don't know what the path will be like. I don't know how long we will do this, whether it will just be for Kindergarten or through college. I know Thomas has friends now and he'll have friends in the homeschool co-ops I hope to join and the scouting troops we'll hopefully be part of later. Really, I'm not worried. If nothing else, he'll learn to swear really well from me or my dad (who will handle any advanced cursing lessons).

In any case, no child of Peter's or mine has even a slim chance of being 'normal', regardless of where he or she is taught to read or write. Wish us luck!

It's Fuzzy, Not Scratchy

2009-08-29T17:30:00.000-07:00

Anna outgrew her white sweater this summer. I thought about running out and buying her a replacement since a white sweater can be a versatile item for a little girl. But then I remembered--Hey! I knit! Perhaps I could make her a white sweater.

So I did.

For those of you who are interested, I used good old Cascade 220. In white. It's a nice shade of white. It's a soft white, neither too harsh nor too yellow.

I used the Kid's Lace Cardigan pattern by Veronik Avery. It was very simple, especially since I'd made an Elizabeth Zimmermann Percentage Sweater once before. It's the same principle. The trickiest part involved the raglan decreases in the lace panels. I just winged it. There may be more polished ways to accomplish it, but I think it turned out fine.

I bought the glass buttons on Etsy from All Bohemian Glass. This is special because Anna's Grams's family came from Bohemia (now the Czech Republic). They were big with the glass cutting, if I remember correctly.

Anyway, Anna has declared the new sweater acceptable. I hope I can get her to wear it. She has a tendency to be a little flippant about the handknits. It's payback for all the homemade clothing my mom made me that I didn't care two straws about as a child. I deserve it. There's likely a proverb in the Bible about 'Do unto your mother and your daughter will do unto you."

In any case, I'll win this one. She who sets the thermostat sets the dress code.

The Big Picture Birthday

2009-08-27T16:42:00.000-07:00

It wasn't the beginning we were hoping for, but it was a better beginning than we had expected. Six and a half weeks prior to his birth, I walked into the hospital with a ruptured membrane, gushing fluid and certain that this pregnancy was over. Obviously, I was wrong. We hung in there and at 29 weeks, 6 days Henry was born. He weighed 3 lbs 9 oz, which is rather big for one born so early.

He cried a bit at first, but it quickly became clear that his breathing was labored. He spent the first few days on the CPAP machine, then many days after on a cannula for breathing assistance. It was days after his birth before I was able to see his face.

I spent most of my time at the hospital in the early days. I watched him receive fluids through an IV because he wasn't ready to receive his nourishment through his stomach. He had IVs in his arm, then in his head. It was a big day when the IVs came out and he got his gavage tube. He was ready to start on what milk I could pump and supplemental formula.

I pumped every two hours during the day and many times at night because, let's face it, even a double-electric hospital-grade breast pump is not as efficient as a baby. I was never able to pump enough to meet the demand of a growing preemie. I still get a nervous twitch whenever I see a breast pump. At home I was either pumping, washing pump parts, or transporting dozens of containers of expressed milk to the hospital in my little cooler.

I went to the hospital as often as I could. I had to divide my time between the children I had been apart from for so long while on bedrest, and the baby I had to leave in the NICU. I would bring Thomas and Anna to the hospital with me, leaving them in the Sibling Care play area while I went up to spend time with Henry.

Experience is a hard teacher, but my time in the NICU with Thomas made this so much easier. I understood better what to expect, which questions to ask, and how to work with the process. I had great nurses who were supportive and encouraging. They had a lot of respect for me as a NICU vet and their confidence buoyed me up.

But then, suddenly, Henry came home. That week we had been expecting that he might come home on Sunday, maybe Saturday. Friday I dropped Thomas and Anna off at the Sibling Play Area and I walked up to the NICU. As I walked into the room, Henry's nurse asked excitedly, "How'd you like to bring Henry home today?"

Incredible. Really? He's ready? I was stunned that they would think that he was ready--that I was ready--to come home. It was a homecoming for me as much as him.

The process took hours, but he was finally discharged. He was home.

And now he's a year old. Technically. We'll celebrate now, of course, but I think that another party in November might be appropriate. Ten weeks makes a big difference in the first year and I think I'd like to mark both milestones. I'd like to celebrate the day he was born, but there is a part of me that would like to celebrate the point when he will have grown into an actual One Year Old.

All things considered, I'd just like to celebrate this little boy and his great big smile.

Utterly Mobile

2009-08-20T13:34:00.001-07:00

No longer content so sit and play, someone has ventured forth into new territory.

Henry is crawling. Not fast, and still often backwards, but now in a New! Forward! Direction!

This is very exciting.

What a sweet, innocent face.

It should be noted, however, that only a few brief minutes after this picture was taken and uploaded here, this sweet little baby got into my cookbooks and ate stale, dirty Cheerios. And so it begins.

I'm loving this.

Edge of the Wilderness

2009-08-16T18:21:00.000-07:00

We are back.

We went on vacation last week with my parents. They rent two little lake cabins every year so that we can all spend a week having a real vacation. I don't know how restful it is for my parents, but it gives the kids a lot of excitement and Peter and I get a chance to actually rest as Grandma and Grandpa cook and keep the kids busy.

The resort is in the middle of nowhere. It's along the edge of the Chippewa National Forest, 40 minutes away from Grand Rapids, Home of Judy Garland. We ran out of diapers towards the end of our vacation. We drove 10 miles to pay $14 for a package of Luvs. As I was checking out, the woman remarked that this was the last pack of diapers on the shelf in a size 4. I told her that she had a remarkable memory. She said that, no, she had been watching the supply of diapers and was waiting for the last package to sell before she ordered more. I wondered what would happen if you lived in the area wanted to buy diapers when she was waiting for a shipment. You'd have to drive miles to find any. Of course, so few people live in the area that I imagine there wasn't too much chance of anyone rushing in with a desperate need for diapers. But still. If Target were to run out of Luvs, well, I could buy the Target brand diapers, Pampers, Huggies (two different kinds), and that crunchy brand they're carrying now. And, failing that, I could buy diapers at one of the two grocery stores. It's almost a shame I use cloth diapers.

It was a five hour drive to the cabins and it put us in the middle of the quietest bit of forest that you can imagine. The Northwoods are dense and dark, filled with birch trees and pine and we spent the week enjoying the quiet. In the Twin Cities, we have airplanes flying overhead all the time. At our house, you can hear the blaring horn of passing trains half a mile away and the highway provides a steady stream of white noise. In the woods, all you can hear is the forest and the lake. I never heard an airplane all week. And at night I would look up and see the stars. In the country one can see the stars most people have forgotten even exist. I would look into the sky and be amazed that these bright points of light had been there all along. Even on the clearest, coldest day of the year, these are never seen in the city. And you forget. It made me wonder what else is out there, obscured by the business of everyday life. And I wonder how one goes about finding it.

Whatever else there is and however one finds it, it almost certainly has to be easier than finding diapers in the middle of the wilderness.

Does This Zucchini Make Me Look Fat?

2009-07-25T06:00:00.000-07:00

One day the garden zucchini is just a wee fingerling on the vine, the next you discover a zucchini so large that you beg it to be merciful to your children when it becomes your Benevolent Overlord.
The measuring spoons are provided for scale. I should have used Henry, but he was out with Peter when this photo was taken.

I'm not sure that this has any useful purpose anymore or if it should head straight for a position in politics, but I'm going to try shredding it and freezing it for winter, per Rachel's suggestion.

Also, I'm still interested in toe-up sock patterns, so if you have one, please feel free to give me your suggestion. I've been on Ravelry and I've found one potential pattern, but I have to wait to read through it before I'll know if it's going to work.

I'm back to my garden now. It's been sadly neglected this past week, so who knows what other surprises await!

Knitting Request

2009-07-24T09:24:00.000-07:00

I have a request for the Knitters.

I have some leftover sock yarn--about 40 grams--and I would like to use it to knit my Anna a pair of socks. I think that the best way to ensure that I leave enough yarn after the first sock would be to knit the socks toe-up. That way I just knit the foot and make the leg bit as long as I can before the ball of leftover yarn weighs 20 grams.

I'm wondering if any of you have recommendations as to which toe-up sock patterns you've had the best luck with, specifically for children. I've never done toe-up before and I'm eager to try!

Thanks for the help.

23 Weeks and A Year

2009-07-14T12:55:00.001-07:00

Last year at this time I was 23 weeks and 3 days pregnant with my third pregnancy. My pregnancies are labeled 'high risk' because Thomas was born prematurely, but nothing could have prepared me for what happened with this baby. Even though I had experienced PPROM before, I was entirely caught off guard when my water broke so early.

I thought I was going to loose my baby. I should have lost the baby. Statistically, most women do. At 23 weeks, no one was terribly optimistic.

But, I didn't loose the baby. What happened next wasn't fast and it wasn't easy, but he stuck it out and the next six weeks gave us our little Henry. He may be small, but he is mighty. And I am so glad.

Knitting Stuff

2009-07-14T07:19:00.000-07:00

Zucchini bread is proof that no matter how questionable things look in the beginning, things can always be improved if you add enough sugar and fat.

My dear Rachel came over yesterday and brought us some zucchini bread that she had baked in her tiny little kitchen. We ate it today for snack and I marveled again that something so tasty could come from something like the humble zucchini.

Rachel is an art specialist in the public schools and so she also did an art lesson with the kids. They drew things like lions and rabbits, houses and people. During their lesson I kept thinking, "Look! You're being enriched! We're having Enrichment Activities!" And after that I took the kids to their swimming lesson. I can't tell you how suburban this makes me feel. When I was growing up in the country our 'activities' basically consisted of weeding the garden, avoiding work, and learning how to shoot a gun. My kids are so soft. Thomas doesn't even know how to pluck a chicken.

In any case, there was some interest expressed in what I've been knitting this summer. Here's a brief synopsis:

Socks. Socks for ME! For a change.

I used Stephanie Pearl-McPhee's Basic Sock Recipe from her book Knitting Rules. Bless that woman's heart. With that book I can knit anything, without a pattern. I used Ty-Dy sock yarn from the Knit One Crochet Too company. I don't know how it will wear, but it is the softest yarn ever. I'm not usually a sucker for The Soft, but this was like knitting with water. And I really love the colors.

I am also knitting a Baby Albert for little Henry (who by the way is not so little any more--little giant, more like). This photo doesn't do the yarn any favors. It's a very rich, jewel-tone blue and green. The green is more of a yellow-green than a blue-green and is much richer. It's the best picture I could get, sadly enough. It's a schooshy merino wool that I bought at Shepherd's Harvest Sheep and Wool festival. I wonder how it will wear, but only time will tell. It was dyed by a local woman who had an amazing palette. I'd give you her contact info, but her etsy shop has been empty since the festival.

I've also finished a February Baby sweater (another) for a friend who is epecting her sixth intallment in September. I've started working on a matching hat, but who knows when that will be finished?

I've ALSO started a Christmas surprise for my father-in-law. I think he lurks here so that knitting project will have to be under wraps for the time being. I was lamenting to my mom that whenever you knit a gift it doesn't LOOK like anything. The yarn itself could cost $20 or more, plus all of your free time for weeks and weeks, but in the end all you have is a pair of mittens or socks or a hat to show for it. Oh, well. It's the thought that counts, right?

I've ALSO started a project for my mother-in-law. This one is a little more difficult since it involves lace and therefore requires more attention and concentration. I'm not sure it will be done in time. Can you believe it? Six months in advance and I'm still not sure. But now that the lace baby sweater is done, perhaps there will be more attention for this?

And, lastly, I have just begun a little white sweater for Anna. There was a fair bit of confusion surrounding this project since I didn't think I'd be able to get the pattern I wanted, so I got another pattern, then I ordered yarn for the second pattern, found the pattern I had preferred at first, recieved the yarn I'd ordered for the second pattern which turned out to be more off-white than I wanted, so I took my First Pattern and just bought some white Cascade 220. For Lord's sake, I've had enough. And she probably won't wear ANY of the sweaters I knit her anyway. I'll have some pictures of this eventually, when there's enough to photograph. At this point you'd only have a nice picture of some white Cascade yarn with my Addi circular needles. I've finished about two inches.

I've also, at Rachel's insistance, begun reading Depletion and Abundance. I was aprehensive at first, because I have enough stress in my life already, for Lord's sake, but it turns out to be a better read than I had anticipated. However, it may yet leave me wanting to stick my head in the oven, but reluctant to do so because the energy usage would be so bad for the environment. I'll keep you posted on that, too.

Looking at this list of knitting projects it occurs to me that I have way too much free time. I am properly ashamed of myself, I assure you. Maybe I'll only knit a few rounds on Dad Edstrom's Christmas present before hanging out the laundry and only a couple of rows on Anna's sweater before making lunch.

Summer Revisited

2009-06-23T07:30:00.000-07:00

Last year this time I was pregnant and picking strawberries to freeze for the winter. The pregnancy didn't go so well, but the strawberries were delicious and we ate them through the dark winter as we took care of our new baby.

This year I am not pregnant and therefore less with The Crazy. I will not be picking 60 lbs of berries because this year there are Limits. There is also a baby which helps to curtail any overachieving on my part. So yesterday afternoon my family and Rachel went to the fields and picked berries. In 97 degree temps.

This is crazy enough but I saw a woman who was nine months pregnant out picking berries with HER family in hopes of getting labor started. I realized then that I was not the craziest pregnant woman that ever lived and that everything is a matter of perspective. She was the kind of enormously pregnant that says picking berries in Death Valley is preferable to being pregnant one more minute. I hope it worked for her. After our brief conversation I nearly bit my tongue trying to keep my advice to myself. My advice would have been to go home, have a glass of water and PUT YOUR FEET UP because you won't be able to rest after the baby comes, for Lord's sake. But she had two boys already so I figured there wasn't anything I could really say that she didn't already know. And you may speak truth to power, but there's no reasoning with The Crazy.
****

I've had a few little posts percolating for a while now and they haven't really congealed into anything substantial yet. I'm working on it, though and will write something out when I get a chance. Today I'm climbing Mt. Saint Laundry and canning strawberry jam. Of course, as all mothers know, these seem like simple, mild-mannered goals for the day, but in truth it will be more difficult to meet these ends that it might first appear. I'm considering where I could draw help from, but sadly I am a Staff of One. Delegating will only be a waste of time since I'd have to assign all my tasks to my beleaguered assistants--Me, Myself, and I.

Hopefully tomorrow you can look forward to photos of the beautiful jars of red jam that I'll be canning today.

Countdown

2009-05-25T20:25:00.000-07:00

My brother's in the army. Have I ever told you that?

Technically, he's a full-time supply sargent in the National Guard, but I guess that's army enough, so I'll just say he's in the army. I'm not very familiar with the world of the military so you'll have to forgive me any slip-ups in jargon or understanding for a little while. I know enough to know that BDUs are not underpants and that they are tan now instead of green.

In a week he'll be leaving for a chunk of training so he'll be ready to go to Iraq. We've known about it for a while, but I haven't wanted to say anthing for two reasons: 1) I hoped the government would changed its mind about sending him and 2) my brother tends to be rather reserved and I often say too much of the wrong thing where he's concerned.

But he's going now, so he'll have to wait a year to lecture me if he doesn't like what I say.

I don't hate that he's going and I understand why he'd want to go. I wish he'd picked a job as a dentist or an insurance adjuster instead, but I've long ago realized that he is a different person from me.

He is reserved to a fault (I'm really glad he told me he was leaving ahead of time instead of just sending me a postcard from Dubai) so he doesn't always tell me the stories of things that he's done or seen. One of the hardest things about this deployment (ha! I do know some military words.) is that he will be adding another layer to his life that he won't talk about.

I wish I could go with him and see the things he sees, but the chances are very good that I would only get him in trouble by saying or doing something stupid. I hope he tells me about his time there, though.

He's going with his best friend and this makes me feel so much better. I am so glad that he won't be there alone. I felt this way when he got married--I was so glad that he had someone who would know when he was sick and who would make sure he took care of himself.

So, we're doing the countdown now. I'd like to see him before he leaves, but my dad said that we shouldn't make a big deal out of it because it would just make it harder on him. I'm sure he's right, but I think it will be hard for him either way and I'd like to shake his hand before he goes. I know he's just doing his job, but it's a brave thing and I'd like him to know that I respect what he does. At the very least I'd like to offer him some advice. Like never go with a strange man on a camel, even if he does offer you lentils.

Well, I'm sure that this will all be over soon and that in thirty years or so it will all be a distant memory. I'm sure that I can be a big girl for a year. I know that at least a couple of you have had loved ones deployed for long periods of time. Is there any advice you would give him as he prepares to leave?

A Fine Kettle of Fish

2009-05-12T06:48:00.000-07:00

The lilacs are blooming and my allergies are going crazy. I'm waiting for my medicine to kick in but until then my face is going to feel like it's in a meat grinder. Ah, glorious spring.

On Friday morning I was going to tell you about my cat, Sabrina, and how after having her all of my adult life I had to put her down. Peter brought her in for me, since I really didn't have the strength to do it myself. I feel like such a coward but I'm so glad he took the burden from me. I wish we had gone together, but I took the kids out to the garage sales (with a very distracting Grandpa) so they wouldn't have an overly dramatic "Good-Bye Ceremony" to make it more difficult than it had to be. We decided to lie to the children about what was happening to her. Judge me if you will, but I just wasn't up to dealing with the whole 'the cat is dead' issue. And at 3 and 5 years old, I felt there was limited merit in going through the ordeal of losing a pet. I know that having a pet die can be very instructive (I lived on a farm growing up--I know whereof I speak), but I also felt like they were too young to gain much benefit.

Before we realized she was so ill we were going to give her to my mom's old co-worker who had lost his cat in an apartment fire. We had told the kids that this was going to happen and how good it would be to give him Sabrina for company. So we just stuck with this story. I was hoping that doing something good for someone else would help cushion the blow. I'm not used to telling fibs so this was perhaps harder on me in that respect, but it was better to deal with my own sadness and not have to manage theirs as well.

On Saturday I was going to tell you about how we went to Shepherd's Harvest Sheep and Wool Festival. It's the first year that I've remembered to go and we got to go with my sister in law Rachel and her husband Chris. It was so. much. fun. We saw a merino sheep (ugly beyond recognition as a sheep), goats, alpacas and llamas, and angora rabbits the size of pillows. The kids had a good time and Rachel and I had a great time. I saw yarn that was more amazing than any I'd ever seen before. I spent too much money. Best Mother's Day ever. It was a Mother's Day extravaganza.

On Sunday I was going to tell you about Henry's baptism. He just fit into the baptismal gown worn by his great-grandfather in 1915, his grandfather, his father and his brother. In another month he would have been too big. He laughed when the water was poured over his head and he drooled all over his gown. By the end of the service he looked like he'd had an immersion baptism. We had a nice dinner at my parents' house after and it was a good day.

But Monday came and now most of the weekend doesn't seem as important as it might have been. There aren't too many details that I'm willing to share because I don't want to tell too much of someone else's story. We have a close family member who is very sick. It will mean a long hospital stay and an unpleasant treatment. We are all very worried, of course, but most of all we're just so sad that this person whom we love most of all will have to go through this trial. One can always help and try to be useful. One can try to ease the burden. But sadly, no one can go through it for him. We can only go with. So, we'll be praying for strength and health and leaving it to God to do the rest.

You know, I'd give a whole lot to have a dull year. I'm going to keep my fingers crossed for 2010.

Photo Tuesday

2009-05-05T08:31:00.000-07:00

You can tell when Spring has really come when Rhubarb Muffins start coming out of the oven. The kids and I made a double batch this morning, no thanks to Henry McGrumpypants. I'm not really sure what his problem is, but he has been the grumpiest, most unpleasant person in town. Nothing seems to make him happy. But anyway, here is a gratuitous muffin shot:

I made a double batch since Friday kicks off Garage Sale Weekend in Woodbury. People come from all over (by the busload, no kidding) to live off the fat of the land. Woodbury is a pretty posh suburb, so there's a lot of fat to be had. I wonder what the sales will look like this year, what with the Tough Economic Times and all. My dad comes along as part nanny, part treasure hunter and it always makes the trip more fun.

Mostly, though, I'm just waiting for this baby to cheer up. He's so fussy and I wish I knew what his problem is. I'm really getting worn out. If gypsies were to come through town and offer me money, I might be tempted to take it. . . just for a minute. Do any of you know what could be making this kid such a crying grump? I'm open to ideas. We've been guessing 'teething' for about a month now.

Rain

2009-04-30T09:50:00.001-07:00

We've been having a LOT of rain this week. I didn't realize quite how much until I saw what Thomas made with his lunch.

For the less abstract in our audience, that's a carrot umbrella with carrot rain.

Soft

2009-04-29T15:29:00.000-07:00

I was leaving the library today when a man stopped me in the parking lot.

"Do you live in the area?"

Why, yes, I do.

"Did you loose power today?"

Why, no, I did not.

"The power was out for about four hours just a block from here. It was terrible."

Terrible? Terrible, really? I'm wondering how bad it could be. Perhaps he was in the middle of some do-it-yourself brain surgery when the power failed and he was left with exposed brain matter for the afternoon. I have a hard time imagining the circumstances that could have left someone describing a brief power failure on a day with mild weather as 'terrible'.

To him I would say, Rise up, Man. You are shaped in the very image of God, descended from explorers and adventurers who sailed oceans, crossed prairies and hewed out a living in a wild land. You are the son of men and women who came to a wilderness and created a new nation, climbed mountains and journeyed across deserts and survived long, unforgiving winters. You are the child of a people who risked it all, lit a fire under themselves and went to the moon and back.

Some days I think that we are not as fully human as we were meant to be. No TV or internet for a whole afternoon? That would crush the spirit of most men, I suppose.

Babies

2009-04-29T14:07:00.001-07:00

I can tell that the NICU reunion made a big impression on Anna. She came down the stairs this afternoon carrying every doll she owns. She said, "Mommy! I'm your friend with many babies."

I just laughed because I know who she was remembering. Is there anything a little girl enjoys more than a passel of babies?

Transitions

2009-04-27T17:57:00.000-07:00

It's been a month of transitions. We've moved from Psuedo-Spring, which is only spring because it is Less Wintery outside, to Real Spring. We've moved from Preemie Baby to Real Baby. We've moved from Hermits Entrenched to Errand Runners. We're actually getting out and seeing people. Henry has discovered that there is a world outside of our house and he seems to find it rather shocking.

We went to the NICU reunion last Sunday. I think it's the hospital's way of letting parents know that it is really, truly OK to bring your babies out among people now since RSV season is over. I think that for many parents it was the first time they were able to show their babies off. I met two of the moms I was on the ante-partum unit with at the hospital. Their babies looked amazing. I hadn't seen one of the babies since he was next door to Henry at the NICU. You can imagine how he's changed! There's a big difference between a four pound baby and a 14 pound baby.

Now that spring has come and our worries about RSV have passed (for this season, anyway--and you can just shut up about swine flu because I'm not listening)I'm starting to feel like Henry is a normal baby. I am still washing my hands like a crazed raccoon, but perhaps with less OCD frenzy. We can go out, have people come over, and let the older two kids mingle freely with other children. Normal. Sigh. Now I can start obsessing over how little sleep we're getting.

Now for the pictures.

Thomas has this crazy, over-the-top affectionate personality. When he loves you, he loves you more than anyone has ever loved you and when he hugs you, he hugs you more than you have ever been hugged before. He hugs Henry like this every day. Every time he does it we have to remind him that we hug and then we release. Don't lay on him, Thomas. I don't know that he'll ever figure out how to give a normal hug. He reminds me of that character in the movie Tommy Boy. "Brothers don't shake hands; Brothers gotta HUG!"

Here's a handsome kid. He looks like me. Only cute. And unbeatably five years old. Don't play this kid in checkers unless you're ready to get schooled. He plays with the big boys.

Here's Henry with his auntie. He finds her both fascinating and alarming. Most of us do, too.

Before Thomas was born, Rachel was adamant about NOT being called 'Auntie'. So, of course, we called her 'Auntie Rachel'. But after seeing her beautiful nephew, she quit caring. Spoiled all our fun. Here she is with her newest nephew, Henry.

Henry is now practicing sitting on his own. He does pretty well. I cannot wait until this kid can amuse himself. I'll be really excited about it until I find out exactly what he finds amusing. Then I'll wish he would just sit still again.

And now, Anna. I realized as I was going through my copious digital pile of photos that I need to take more pictures of Anna. She's finally figured out how to pedal a bike. I took a few photos of her demonstrating her new skill. In every one of the pictures she looks like her grandmothers. How odd to see them looking so young!

Henry's baptism is scheduled for Mother's Day. I am overwhelmed that we have made it this far. When I think of where we started last year in July, to Henry's birth at the end of August, I have to hold my breath when I realize how far we have come. We've come to this Spring by the seat of our pants, but we've made it and I'm glad.

We took a few pictures of Henry when he was in the NICU. I didn't share many of them here because they are so complicated to look at. On one hand they are so sad. There is this small, frail baby hanging on to life surrounded by breathing equipment, IV tubes, monitors, buttons and plastic. But at the same time, he is so fragile and so lovely and so tough. His ability to come through these challenges is so amazing. I'm thinking of posting them some time so that you can see how far he has come. I look at them and I am sad, but I'm also amazed at what people can come through when they are loved and cared for.

Baby Toys

2009-03-25T07:16:00.000-07:00

It's been a busy week here at The Little House and I've certainly had my hands full. Too full. Henry has had a cold and I strongly suspect that he's working on an ear infection. He has been cranky and awake and I haven't gotten a single thing done all week. I'm looking forward to next week being much nicer since a virus simply can't last forever. So, I'll sip my whiskey and soda and dream sweet dreams of Next Week.

There's been something that's come up in my world that has really put a burr in my underpants. Needless to say, I've been unsettled in my mind and I've had a hard time putting it aside and moving past it. I'm not someone who spends time being upset in any meaningful way and so this has been something of a shock to my system. Of course, I can't talk about it, not to anyone, and I REALLY can't post about it on the INTERNET so it has been my burden to carry. I've been praying for peace and for my mind to be at rest, but it has been hard.

But I'll move on now to something I can write about. I want to hear what you have to say about Baby Toys. I was playing with Henry the other day and it occurred to me that he would be out-growing his baby toys soon ('soon' being a relative term) and that I would have to figure out what to do with them.

Most of them I don't care a whit about, but I was surprised to discover that I have a pretty strong attachment to some of them. My memories of the children playing with one toy or another are so strong that I cannot imagine parting with that toy. To get rid of it seems to be getting rid of a tangible part of my memories of The Babies that I don't know how I'm going to do it. I know that most moms have boxes (and boxes?) of impedimenta of their children's babyhood. I am just not sure that I want to keep lots of old things in boxes. I doubt very much that any of my kids are going to grow up and want any of it so I'll be keeping it mostly out of sentiment.

In the past I have taken pictures of things like my old stuffed animals so I could keep the memory and still let go of the item, but I'm not sure that technique is going to work for this situation. I'm wondering what you do? What do you keep? What do you give away? What do you throw away?

In the meantime, I made sure to take a picture of Henry playing with one of my favorite baby toys of all time.

I think it's called a Whoozit. I bought it for Thomas when he was a baby because he HATED being in the carseat with a red hot fury. I found that the only way I could keep him happy was with toys--lots of toys--or he would scream, scream, scream for however long it would take to drive some place. I would pile baby toys in the passenger seat next to me and whenever he would fuss I would toss another toy into the back to keep him happy. This toy was great. It has lots of loops for little fingers to grab onto so it was easy to hold and would keep him happy for quite a while. All of the kids have enjoyed it. I look at it and it brings back those early months of parenting like nothing else. For better or worse, I suppose!

March Hare

2009-03-12T07:15:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning to see the thermometer reading -4 degrees.

C'mon, Weather--can't you cut me even a little slack? I'm pretty sure this winter was written by Kafka.

Ok. I'll stop whining for now.

Hospital: Redux

2009-03-10T20:53:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I'm getting really sick of the hospital. If our Children's Hospital gave frequent flier miles for every visit, I'm pretty sure I could take my whole family some place warm for the rest of the winter.

We've been a bit under the weather these days. Anna had a slight fever one day; Thomas had a fever a day later. I thought we might get lucky and that Henry would escape with just a passing cold or fever, but sadly that was not the case. Saturday we started to see a little congestion with Henry. Nothing serious, just a dry cough now and then. Sunday he was doing a little more dry coughing, but it was still nothing that even hit my radar. By Monday, however, I was hauling him into the clinic to see if that weird wheezing noise was anything I should be concerned about or whether is was a result of a harmless cold--you know the type--a snotty nose draining in the back of the throat or something like that. He'd thrown up a fair bit of phlegm the night before, so I didn't think it was outside the realm of possibility. The doctor listened to his lungs and declared them clear.

To make a long, long story short, by that evening Henry had stopped breathing properly and was restless and wheezing hard. He would try to cry and end with a dry, barking cough which only made him cry harder. I tried all the usual things and then spent a couple of hours dithering about on the advisability of bringing him to the ER. I was reluctant to spend several middle-of-the-night hours in an ER, subjecting Henry to all manner of unpleasantness, only to be told that he was 'fine' and to 'keep an eye on him'. Finally, I decided that I wasn't going to sleep anyway and Henry certainly wasn't getting any rest, so I might as well bring him in and be told that it was 'nothing'.

Nothing, indeed.

I've found that there is something worse than sitting for hours in an ER waiting to be seen by the doctor on call. What's worse is going up to register your baby and getting a whole lot of attention all at once by everyone who's available.

It turns out that croup causes a lot of excitement when small babies have it.

The doctor told me her diagnosis and all I could think was, "Croup? Seriously? Didn't Anne Shirley fix it with some humidity and ipecac?" I thought it was sort of like whooping cough--one of those antique illnesses that no one got anymore. Apparently they do.

We were finally able to come home after 13 hours and a LOT of medical intervention. He was given two doses of a steroid, among other more dramatic things, which is making him a little restless. He still has a wheezy cough, but he is able to breath without too much effort. They predicted that he will be right as rain in about five days, give or take. Despite my own bone-crushing cold and fever, I am still awake, listening to him breath and fuss a bit in his sleep. I am tense, though relieved, that the worst of this illness has passed.

I'm sure there are those of you who know all about this sort of thing and would have handled the whole incident with poise and aplomb. I envy you. This was likely the second most frightening thing that has ever happened in my life and I hope to never, ever have to repeat it. I'm an optimistic person, in general, but this time I am seriously out of sunshine. O.U.T. If Pollyanna were here, I'd push her to the ground and maybe take her lunch money.

Sometimes it seems like I have a long, long life left to live. Sometimes I wish I were already 90 years old. I think that by the time I'm 90 I'll finally be able to catch my breath and relax.

Looking For Spring: Random Thursday

2009-03-05T18:24:00.000-08:00

We've been quiet here at Chez Sarah these days. Mostly we're hanging on, waiting for winter to finally end. We've had some days that looked promising, but I have a feeling we're going to get whipped back into winter in another week.

It was 40 degrees today and I was in my garage, spray painting a headboard for Anna's Big Girl Bed. Anna was dressed in her hat, coat, mittens, and rain pants. I was chilly in a long sleeve shirt and some bib overalls that I swear used to fit me when I was in college. She was running up and down our driveway, describing to me in detail everything she was doing and everything she saw. She came up the driveway and went around the corner of the garage where the rain gutters leak onto the walkway to the house. I heard a muffled cry and I put the spray can down to see what had happened. Anna was sitting on the wet ice with her legs bent every which way. I asked her if she was hurt and she sighed and said no. As I was helping her up and over the thick ice she said, "I'm tired of the Slippery Season, Mommy."

I know, Honey. I know.

The headboard isn't going to work out, by the way. I had it all painted and put up in Anna's room when I came upstairs to make up the bed. I guess it had been too wet or too cold when I painted it because the paint was coming off in big flakes. The paint can says that it should be warmer than 50 degrees with lower-than-raining humidity for the paint to work best. I guess that means I have to wait until JUNE before I'm allowed to spray paint anything. I love living in Minnesota, but LORD the weather is discouraging.

Another random Bit of Nothing: A week ago or so we were having another one of these strange half-thaw sorts of days and I sent the kids out to play. A day later the Twin Cities was hit with a heavy snowstorm that landed inches and inches of snow within a few hours. I was so glad I had kicked their butts outside when the weather was nice until I heard Peter getting them dressed up to go play in the fresh snow.

"Where are your yarn mittens?"

"Outside."

"Outside? Where did you leave them outside?"

"I don't know. By the tree?"

We look helplessly out the window at the SEVEN INCHES of fresh snow that lay on the ground where only mud and ice had been the day before.

Some days I'm not sure God really meant for people to live here, but that doesn't stop us from trying.

Not As Addle-Brained As I Thought

2009-02-17T14:15:00.000-08:00

After I located the top of my head and finished scraping my brain off of the ceiling yesterday, I pulled myself back together and took another look at The Sock of Doominess.

It turns out that I was only half-addled when I knit it. This is somewhat comforting since this means that I was cotton-headed for only a week, instead of two, and that I only messed up HALF of the sock. And, mercifully, the bottom half. The half that hides in your shoe (or slipper, in my case, since I don't go out much). I'm feeling a lot less dramatic about it now so I'll refrain from throwing myself on the floor in a fit of gratitude and sighing, "Thank Gawd!" I will be able to now sit and peaceably knit my second sock correctly because that is how I began the first sock. And I've decided that if the mistake on the first sock is really bothering me after I've finished the second one, I totally have the moral fortitude to go back and reknit half a sock. I just didn't have it in me to reknit a whole one.

In other news, Henry is up to a grand 13 lbs, 13 oz. He is gestationally 3.5 months old, so he's clicking right along. He's smiling every day. He definitely recognizes his older brother. I guess that all of that attention Thomas lavishes on him is paying off!

Days Like These

2009-02-16T12:31:00.000-08:00

The sound you hear is the sound of my head thwacking away on my kitchen table. Again, and again, and again.

We found a mini-van last week and I've been waiting to post until I get a picture of the dang thing, but that's really not the point of my post today. Because I still do not have a proper picture. Not that it matters. If you go online and find a picture of a 2008 Grand Caravan and imagine it in white, you will know what my van looks like. I'm shocked, really, because we've never had a car that was made in the same decade in which we were driving it. It's so new I almost forget that it's not. I'm just really, really hoping that it doesn't break down for a year or two because that would be really discouraging.

In any case. This is what I'm posting about today: Knitting. Knitting and how the Knitted Fates are conspiring to drive me insane in all the least pleasant ways. For Christmas my dear mother was so thoughtful as to give me a skein of beautiful (hand wash) alpaca sock yarn. Beautiful. I sat down and for two weeks (or more) I knit myself a sock. A lovely, soft Jaywalker sock. I finished it the other night and cast on to knit the second sock. I finished the inch of cuff ribbing and commenced on the leg pattern. Here is where I realize that I'm so slow-witted that I should never be allowed to touch wool to needles again. The pattern stitch is simple: Knit a row plain, knit a row pattern, knit a row plain, repeat. But I am so backward that I didn't understand the directions the first time and the Knitted Fates, in all their contemptible humor, have decided to open the Eyes of Revelation upon me just as I am about to begin the Second Sock. When I read the instructions the first time, I understood it (bizaarly) to mean that I should only be repeating the patterned row of the pattern again and again and not alternate the two patterns.

I had a stone cold moment when I realized that my Doom Was Upon Me and that I'd entirely eff'ed up the whole first sock. Utterly. Gaaaaah! Noooo! It can't BE! But I did. I am defeated. Now I don't know what to do! I can do the second sock in my NEW! And INVENTIVE! pattern (which looks suspiciously like a Jaywaller sock, despite its, uh, eccentricites). I can do the second sock correctly and just admire how handknitted things can be so, er, unique. Or I can rip the damned first sock out and reknit it the RIGHT way (cursing myself the whole time for being such a moron) and then move on to the second sock.

I don't know what to do. What would YOU do?

The Great Mini-Van Hunt of 2009

2009-02-06T07:00:00.000-08:00

Despite the perilous economy we are looking for a new used car. We have one small car for Peter's in-town commute. It's a bare-bones Saturn which worked fine as our family car as well until we needed to add a third car seat to our traveling routine. We also used to have an old, lumbering 10, no, 11 year old Buick Le Sabre. It was a comfortable car to drive and looked right at home in the parking lot at the Senior Citizen's center. I felt like I was driving my bed down the road and it had the added benefit of accommodating all three children.

We had the Buick for about six years before it met it's untimely end. Peter was driving it home when he suddenly realized that the car had lost some of its usual vigor. In fact, it wouldn't drive any faster than 15 miles an hour. He got it to the mechanic safely and found out that the transmission was utterly destroyed. Cool. There's nothing like a $3,000 repair for a car that's worth about $2,000 to clarify one's priorities. As much as we enjoy being free of car payments, this is perhaps the time to consider taking some on. If we could fit everyone into our wee little Saturn the decision might have been more complicated, but as it is the path was clear.

We went that night to the Toyota dealership where our budget wasn't exciting enough to get the sales guy to be much help. We told him what we wanted to spend and that we needed to fit three carseats into it. He recommended a Chevy Cobalt and a Honda Accord. Really. We left discouraged and feeling like it was a huge mistake to even be out car shopping. Since we were up in Dealership Alley anyway, we swung by the Saturn dealership to see what they had on the lot. The contrast in service was blinding. Our sales woman had a working knowledge of every car in her inventory. She asked a lot of pertinent questions to help us get a better idea of what we were looking for. And then, and THEN she had the cars we wanted to look at driven into the showroom so we could look comfortably instead of in the cold, windy weather. We didn't buy a car that night, but it was certainly time well spent.

To tell the truth, we haven't bought a car yet, but we have a better idea of what we want. Though we have resisited it, it seems to be time to move to a mini-van, at least for the time being. Having three car seats isn't the motivating factor for me, oddly enough. What is really selling me on the idea of a mini-van are the sliding side doors! Getting the two older children in and out of the car is tricky enough, but getting enough room to open our car doors wide and get the infant car seat out is near impossible in our garage or in parking lots.

We are going back to the dealership on Saturday to do another test drive. I don't know what we'll end up with, but I can tell you one thing--I hope I'm done with car repairs for a good, long while!

Is It Wrong. . .

2009-02-05T09:17:00.000-08:00

. . . That at 11 o'clock in the morning I'm thinking that a scotch might be just the thing to take the edge off?

I'm just kidding. Really, I am.

Genius Becomes Me

2009-02-04T09:59:00.000-08:00

I love natural peanut butter. My kids eat peanut butter by the metric ton. We go through jars of this all-important commodity like Hummers go through gasoline.

The biggest problem with natural peanut butter comes when my knife rattles around the bottom of the glass jar and I finish scraping the depths free from any remainder of gooiness. The big problem with peanut butter, with my whole life, really, is mixing the oil and peanut butter in the next jar. There has never been a good solution for this. I've tried blenders, both regular and immersion, I've tried the every popular Knife Method whereby butter knives are used to stab the glob of peanut butter until it eventually surrenders to the oil, I've tried turning the jar upside down and waiting for gravity or good luck to do the work for me. It's all ended the same. My shirt covered with oil, the jar and counter slick. I'm sure that mothers from back in the Dawn of Time struggled with the same delemia--jar of peanut butter in one hand, butter knife in the other, saying "Ugg! There has to be a better way!"

I have finally found a way to lighten the burden of this tedious household chore. I wish I could patent this, but it's too, too simple.

When I open a new jar of peanut butter, I do a couple of stabs to The Blob to help some of the oil get to the bottom of the jar. Then I microwave the jar, sans lid, for about 30 seconds. I take it out and give it a bit of a stir and pop it back in for another 30 seconds. Be careful after this, though. The jar can get kind of hot. A final stir will easily blend the oil and peanut goo together. Hurrah.

Maybe this is something that everyone knows, but for me it was like the rising sun. Now I just need to figure out how to get peanut butter off of a computer keyboard.

Conversations Between Brothers

2009-02-03T11:52:00.001-08:00

Thomas to Henry. . . "If you don't brush your teeth when all the slime is on them, then they fall out. That's how you become a pirate."

Shiner

2009-01-22T08:28:00.001-08:00

If you look closely, you can see it. It's her brother's handiwork. Or shovelwork, as the case may be. It's her first black eye.

It doesn't look like much now, especially in a picture, but last night there was quite a bit of swelling. What I would like to know is how you "accidentally" whack someone in the face with a snow shovel. Wait--I don't think I want to know.

We took his word for it--it was an accident--but it will still be a very, very long time before the shovels are played with again.

Anna got plenty of attention, and some Motrin. She bounced back quickly, as she usually does. Little trooper. And I told her the story of MY first black eye, which she loved. Poor little bunny. She has no idea that today she looks like a prize fighter who didn't bring home the prize!

Winter is Not for Sissies

2009-01-17T15:16:00.000-08:00

We've been enjoying cold winter temperatures here in the midwest. It's the kind of cold that freezes your eyelids in place when you go out to get the mail. Luckily, Henry has been totally warm. Whenever he leaves the house, he's wearing this soft, soft sweater.

You'll remember back in July when I was admitted to the hospital Allison from Pretending Sanity sent me a lovely care package of yarn and a pattern. It kept me busy during many long hours as I sat in bed, looking out the window at downtown St. Paul. I was so thankful for that act of kindness. It kept me positive, doing something with my hands as I hoped for a healthy baby to wear this little sweater.

Happy day, indeed!

Happy New Year and Pass the Denture Adhesive

2009-01-15T04:52:00.000-08:00

It's a new year, as you know, and I have to say that I've never been so glad to wave good-bye to an old year as I was this time around. 2008 kicked me in the mouth and handed me my teeth in a cup. All I can say is good riddance. I spent the second half of the year in the hospital, either in a bed myself or next to an isolette. I bounce back from a lot of things pretty quickly, but I confess that this has left me reeling.

It is hard to explain concisely, in writing, how I feel about what happened this summer. It's the sort of thing that takes an evening, over coffee, with many, many words to talk about. It's the kind of thing that only your best friends will patiently hear.

After some time, I'm sure I'll be fine again. In in middle of all of it, though, I suppose I just feel very lucky. I don't know why such frightening and difficult things should happen to me and I don't know why I should be so lucky as to be spared the worst of it. I went into the hospital in July thinking that I was going to loose my baby. Instead, by a miracle I can't explain, this baby held on for an amazing six and a half weeks and lived. It wasn't a nice way to have a baby, but I think I'll take what I get and be happy.

There were many moms on my unit in the hospital who weren't so fortunate. I don't know why I was spared that grief. After looking that loss full in the face, I can still barely catch my breath. It's like being snatched back to the sidewalk after stepping in front of a speeding truck. Call me a coward if you like, but I don't think I'll try it again.

This past year tried my limits and pushed me to the edge. I want to settle back into peace again and feel only the gratitude that comes with mercy. It will take time. I know that there are things you cannot rush and that it is God who brings healing. I'm so thankful to have these little smiles to help.

Photo of the Day

2009-01-09T11:00:00.000-08:00

I am so embarrassed over how long it has been since I've last posted. I can only blame the baby, so I won't blame anyone at all. However, a quick update on Time-Eating Baby will show that he is now 11 lbs 5 oz. He is three times his birth weight. Can you believe it?

I'm working on a post for the Year in Review. It'll be the next big post, but it's taking some time to work on. There's a fine balance to be struck when writing about highly charged things. I want to talk about how this last year effected me, but I don't want this blog to be an emotional Kleenex, either. I have friends for that sort of thing.

In the meantime, here's a picture of Anna. She was playing Pirate and dug up this old clip-on tie that was in Thomas's room. She proudly clipped it on and said she was "just like Daddy"! That's true. Or it would be, if Daddy were a pirate.

My Son, the Knitter

2008-12-23T13:33:00.000-08:00

It finally clicked for him. He has been wanting to knit since he was four. I took him to the local yarn shop and he picked out some bright green yarn. "I'm going to knit a hat for you, Mommy!" I would have worn it, too.

From time to time, he would express a desire to knit and would sit on my lap with my hands over his. We would knock off a row or two on his little swatch before either he or I would loose interest.

This time, however, I sat with him through two or three stitches and then he was knitting--by himself! It was so exciting, like watching the first real steps, or the first real smile. I couldn't believe it.

He has so much patience for the process of learning to knit. Usually he gets overwhelmingly frustrated when he can't do something well the first time he sets his hand to it. As he learns to knit, though, he will patiently stab his needle through his knitting, through the stitch below his working stitch, then finally through his intended loop before carefully wrapping his yarn around the needle. He will allow me to correct him and to assist him to re-do a stitch. He will work slowly and patiently toward his goal (which now appears to be a woolen washcloth, according to Thomas). He is so proud to be learning.

Most amazingly, when his patience began to wear out, he actually took my suggestion to put the knitting aside for a while.

I am so proud of my little knitter.

How It Gets Done

2008-12-11T18:23:00.000-08:00

Problem: I don't have much time to knit any more. But, I really want to finish Rachel's mittens. Usually I have a little time at the end of the day to work on a project, but when your Knitting Hour collides with Baby's Angry Hour (read: 2-3 hours) something has to give and it's always the knitting.

Solution: Thank goodness Henry likes my fleece pouch. Thank goodness it's so simple to use a sleep deprived mom can use it!

Forgive my sullen immigrant expression. I resemble my great-grandmother who was an immigrant and she never looked so sullen. Really, I was simply intent on getting the greatest quantity knit while the baby was content (Commando Knitting). I'm sure that's why our ancestors looked like that in the old photos. They had many more babies and much more to do. My particular ancestors had to do it on a diet of cabbage and corned beef on top of it, too. I pity those moms! I bet they had to knit while standing over a wood burning stove and frying bacon--and no fleece pouch for the babes. Times have sure changed.

Random

2008-12-07T09:00:00.000-08:00

We've been busy as usual around here. I've been encouraging Thomas and Anna to play outside more, but it's hard to know when it's too cold to send time out, even in full winter gear. I can't even rely on their judgment since five minutes after they go out they want to come in. How is it that some children can stay outside for hours in the icy cold, but others spend more time getting ready to go out than actually playing in the snow?

Here's a picture of Henry swinging with Anna's dolls. I guess he must have looked lonely.

In knitting news, I spent the greater part of two days knitting Anna a balaclava. She needed something to keep her face warm during her Compulsory Outdoor Rec time. My first thought was to knit her a scarf, but as I thought about it more it occurred to me that this would be more comprehensive. Also, scarves tend to fall down and this would keep her face warmer.

I couldn't find anything on Ravelry in a toddler size so I had to improvise. I used the concept in Homespun, Handknit: Caps, Socks, Mittens & Gloves book by Interweave Press. I cast on fewer stitches and made everything else proportionally smaller. Around the face opening, when I picked up stitches, I k2tog across the top for a snugger fit across the forehead. Anna wore it outside this morning and said that it worked fine. I felt her cheeks and they were still mostly warm. If she continues to wear it and to be able to see out of it I will consider it a success. Now Thomas wants one so I'll have to whip one up when I have time.

Mostly I've been test knitting a pattern for Rachel. She has an etsy shop where she sells, among other things, her own original patterns. She's working on a kit for a felted mitten that she developed. There is a bunch of striping on the backs of the mittens (which are knitted flat, lightly seamed together, and then felted to make a solid mitten) and it's taking me some time to work through it because of the little interruptions running around the house. She's being patient though. She even gave me some homemade Irish Cream to drink while I knit them. Hm. Maybe that's why it's taking me so long to knit them. Since I'm running out of Irish Cream, I'll probably finish the last mitten in a couple of days. If Rachel says it's ok I'll post pictures to show you.

I also plan to post pictures of the little shrug I knit for Anna. I'll get a picture sometime today. Henry calls so I have to say good bye!

Eureka!

2008-12-02T07:43:00.001-08:00

We have an older house with older windows. It's not usually a warm place in the winter with the leaks and drafts that usually accompany an older home. This winter has been feeling a little chillier than usual though.

I finally figured out why our house has been feeling so cold this winter.

Henry and I were sitting in the nursery, rocking and nursing (yea!). I'd been noticing that the baby's room was cold these days. Odd, since it's usually the toastiest room in the house. I could hear the wind bowing outside and I noticed that with each gust the shade and blinds on the window would sway back and forth a little. You don't suppose. . .

Yup. While I was away this summer someone opened the storm window in the nursery, which I don't usually do since the sound of the whistle at the train crossing can be a little loud for a nappy baby. I've been so distracted that it didn't even occur to me to go around shutting the storm windows like I usually do which would have caused me to give the nursery windows a cursory glance at least.

A quick tour of the upstairs revealed an open storm window in our room and the bathroom. I didn't check the windows in Anna's room yet (I'll bet at least one of them is open) since Henry was sleeping by that time. Now I'm going to go around and check the windows downstairs. I'm just hoping that the storm window in Thomas's room are closed since we already put plastic up. The storm windows in his room hardly count anyway, though. Often in the winter you can see tiny drifts of snow blowing in around the edges of them and the wind will blow the curtains inside the room.

Minnesota. God, I love it here.

My Hands, They Are Full

2008-12-01T14:22:00.000-08:00

I think that recent sleep deprivation has left me a little punchy. I was washing potatoes for dinner tonight, imagining what I wanted to say, and all that came to mind were stupid, corny jokes that would barely be funny if you were in the same room with me. Luckily I realized how silly I was being before actually writing anything down.

Tomorrow Henry has another weight-check. I want to make sure that he's still growing, I guess. Babies seem to grow all of a sudden. Days and days can pass with no apparent change and then you're trying to fit them into a wee sleeper before you realize that they really should be wearing a 5T.

There have been many challenges with my oldest child lately. It's hard to know where to find help sometimes. I worked in daycare and school programs for years and he still has me up against a wall. I've been reading Love and Logic and Raising your Spirited Child. I'm not sure how much help books will be, though. I'm fairly convinced that when he's grown you'll be hearing about him on the news--either because he's discovered a cure for the common cold or because he's raised up a small army to conquer a small country. I wish I could look ahead to see how he's going to turn out. It would take a lot of the suspense out of my daily life.

I'd like to just boot the kids outside, but they are both (understandably) reluctant to go out and play in 20 degree weather. We aren't able to see many people since Henry needs to be protected from illness. Already both Anna and Thomas are climbing the walls.

It's only been cold here for a few weeks. Sometime mid-winter you may see PLEH DNES etched in my frosty windows.

Stunned, but in a Good Way

2008-11-24T10:48:00.001-08:00

First, I want to say Happy Birthday to my Anna who is now a big 3 year old. She is by far my most laid-back child, but she is still full of energy and determination. She is so easy to love.

I'm sure that if you have been following long with Henry's story that you will be happily surprised with the news that is coming next.

Henry has finally caught on. He is finally a Good Eater. It was touch and go the first week. He was hostile and angry the first days as he worked to get my milk supply up. After ten weeks of solely pumping my supply wasn't fabulous, to be sure. There were nursing sessions that seemed hopeful, but for the most part he didn't seem to be nursing well and he never seemed contented. We weighed him at the clinic after a week and found that he hadn't gained any weight at all. Since he wasn't loosing any weight, our doctor thought he could have another week to try. Her tone was rather neutral--He wasn't loosing weight, which was good, but it was time for him to "fish or cut bait". At 42 weeks, we had certainly been patient enough with him. I brought him in again on Friday for another weigh-in and found that he'd gained an ounce and a half! We were very encouraged.

Today we went in again (!) and found that he had gained a whopping six ounces over the weekend! So, I think breastfeeding is working out after all. Really, I'm as surprised as you are. And THANK GOD. We figured out the cost of formula feeding and it would cost approximately $130 for Henry to get 4 oz bottles, to say nothing of the cost as he gets bigger. How do people afford this? That's more than what we spend on a week's groceries for our WHOLE FAMILY.

I'm so, so glad that this is finally working out. He will still need to get two high-calorie bottles a day because of his prematurity, but it will be so much better (read: cheaper and easier) to breastfeed the rest of the time.

If you listed closely, I'm sure you can hear my sigh of relief. Exhale.

Baby-Feeding

2008-11-13T08:22:00.000-08:00

It has not been easy to feed this baby. I won't belabor the point by listing off all of the things we've been though to get Henry breastfeeding, but I've reached the point where I'm hanging on by sheer stubbornness and force of will. This is my last week.

I started out on this path pumping and waiting and pumping and trying to nurse because it's really the best thing for me and for Henry. I know how great breastfeeding can be so it wasn't hard. I moved past my best intentions and started relying on patience. I figured I could wait it out and that eventually this would work. Past patience I relied on blind faith that somehow this would take off and that Henry would be able nurse eventually, provided I could keep a supply for when he was ready. Past blind faith I relied on determination--This WILL work, provided I could keep the supply, wait it out, and keep giving him opportunities to practice. Now I'm just being stubborn. I don't know how to quit. I get just enough encouragement from Henry to keep plugging away, but not enough to make this worthwhile. It's just enough success to make me hope that by next week (it's always well, maybe NEXT week. . . ) he will be better.

My honor is satisfied. I know I've put my full effort into this and I know I have done my best. I know that there is nothing that I could have done differently, though I obviously wish there could have been a different outcome. I have been patient and worked hard, but right now it doesn't look promising.

These are my goals for the week: I will not get emotional about this. I will keep pumping as needed to keep up my supply. I will nurse Henry as he is able and I will give him a bottle if he isn't alert enough to nurse every three hours. At the end of the week I will bring him in for a weight-check. If his weight is suffering and he hasn't improved his performance at feeding times, it's off to Target I go to spend his college money on formula. I may spend the rest at the liquor store on some really nice whiskey.

Cheers.

Finished Project Report

2008-11-11T09:43:00.000-08:00

I didn't mean to leave such a bummer post for so long. We've been busy with a growing baby. He has a weight-check appointment this evening and I'm expecting him to be near nine pounds. It certainly feels that way as I carry him around in my sling.

This is what I finished today. The yarn was a gift from Allison at the beginning of my hospital stay this summer. I actually finished the sweater when I was in the hospital still, but I just bought buttons last night. This sweater is so soft. The yarn is Blue Sky organic cotton. I have a wee bit of yarn left and I'm wondering if I could knit a washcloth for Rachel. She doesn't have a dishwasher so she might like a special washcloth. Organic, even.

When Henry wakes up again I'll make him try it on. I think he'll even wear it to his doctor's appointment tonight!

Grieve

2008-10-28T08:10:00.001-07:00

I knew from the beginning that Henry might be my last baby. Apart from having high-risk pregnancies and harrowing deliveries, we felt like three children would be a good fit for our family. We hadn't decided for certain, though, and had planned on leaving the door open for a couple of years to see if we might find that our family had room for another child after all.

After our misadventures this summer, however, it would be irresponsible to take the risk of becoming pregnant again. It was a miracle that I stayed pregnant for so long after my water broke. And I don't say that lightly.

What happened for Henry came very close to being very bad. I can't imagine how this could have ended differently and still have been "okay", even though it has been difficult to go through. The decision has been made for us, it would seem. And even though I knew from the beginning that this could be my last go at having a baby, I find that the idea makes me pretty sad.

I wonder if women are always a little sad, or wistful, when it becomes apparent that they've had their last fuzzy headed baby. A friend from college was one of 13 children and when her youngest brother was three, it became clear to her mom that this would likely be her last child. And she was sad. After 13 babies, one whould think that she would be a little relieved to close the door on nighttime feedings and toilet training, but I also think I understand. Of some things, there is never enough. How could you ever have enough of that warm little weight snuggled on your chest, fluffy baby hair rubbed against your nose? After three or thirteen children, it is still the End and I guess you always wonder who that "One More" child would have been.

I certainly feel the loss of the healthy pregnancies and babies that most women expect to have. I try not to think about it too much because it just upsets me and I'm not sure there's anything to be gained by getting angry or sad or feeling like I've been cheated. It is what it is and I'm satisfied by the good outcomes my babies have had. But I need to let go of the fourth baby I felt entitled to choose along with the healthy pregnancies and the robust newborns and the carefree cold/flu season.

It will be a long process, one that starts with moving my baby girl clothing out of storage and into the home of someone who can use it. I walk by those tubs in the basement marked "Girl: 0-6 months" and I know that they will have to go. If you loose your left leg, do you still keep the left shoe when you buy a new pair? There won't be another girl to save it for and I find it as unnecessary as the proverbial left shoe.

It should go, and it will. But not yet. Most of it will likely get saved for my sister in law Rachel, but I am strongly repressing the urge to give it to my friends who have baby girls already. I love seeing the hand-me-downs running around on little ones and it might be too much to have to wait for Rachel to have a baby (who may have only boys!).

Having the choice made for me is one part blessing, another part burden. I'm not sure which has the greater share. After some distance from the events of the summer I'll be able to close this door with greater clarity and peace. I think I'm looking forward to that.

Fall Clothing

2008-10-27T15:34:00.000-07:00

Do any of you remember wearing heavy-weight sweater tights when you were little? For two years now I've looked for these tights so Anna can wear her twirly dresses in the winter without freezing her knees. In lieu of these tights I've put leggings under her dresses, but I'm wondering if these tights are still available.

Also, as of last week Henry was 6 lbs 7 oz. He gained a whole pound in a week! This week I'm guessing he'll be about 7 lbs. He's quite the little man! Right now his whole world is sleeping, eating, diaper changes and fuzzy sleepers. Not too bad if you ignore the occasional assault by his loving brother and sister.

Tricky Questions

2008-10-17T08:09:00.000-07:00

We don't take Henry out much. He was discharged from the NICU right at the beginning of cold and flu season so we need to keep him out of public places. Besides, he needs to conserve his energy for growing. One place I do need to take him, however, is the clinic for weekly weight checks. The doctor needs to make sure he is gaining weight appropriately and adjust his calorie intake as needed.

We had an appointment last Tuesday and while I was there, something was brought to my attention by the other patients in the waiting room. Five or six people must have asked me how old Henry is and I had no idea how to answer! At first, I just said he was six weeks old--which is true--but anyone who has ever seen a newborn can tell that my wee five pound baby is not six weeks old. Then I said that he was six weeks old, but that he was born premature. I don't mind sharing what happened, obviously, but I don't know if I'm giving them more information than they want and I'm not always up for a long conversation about HOW early he was, HOW long he was in the hospital, HOW much he weighed when he was born, etc. I can certainly chat someone up once in an evening, but five or six times? I'm not sure I'm up for it.

This is really a non-issue, though. We'll be taking him to the clinic once a week and that will be the extent of his outings until he is larger and his corrected age won't raise so many eyebrows. And it's not like I find the questions or the conversation offensive or distressing in any way. It's just a lot to talk about with strangers in a waiting room. Over and over again. Sometime, though, it's just hard to know what to say.

Infant Conspirator

2008-10-13T18:41:00.000-07:00

I think Henry is conspiring against me.

I'm sure most mothers think this is true of their babies, but I have evidence.

Henry sleeps all day. Deep, heavy sleep broken only by his baby grunts and gurgles. It's nearly impossible to wake him to nurse for most feedings. I am usually able to wake him enough to take a sleepy bottle of breastmilk or formula, but that's it. I'm assuming that this is due to his prematurity and that his alertness will improve as he grows closer to term.

Despite days of bottle feeding and pumping, the last two evenings Henry has decided to be AWAKE! with the ALERTNESS! and in a desperate, crying need to NURSE! and to nurse MORE! Really, just like a real baby.

This is the only time during the day that his behavior resembles that of a regular newborn and I am wondering this: WHY, Henry, WHY would you pick the most aggravating part of a newborn's day to start behaving like a full-term baby?

I'm pretty sure I have enough milk--the other night I fed him as much as he wanted and I still sat down and pumped a record amount afterward. I am left to believe that Henry is sleeping so much during the day so that he will have plenty of energy to keep me occupied from dinner through the kids' bedtime.

If anyone had any theories or helpful hints, I'd be glad to hear them!

Who Would Have Thought

2008-10-12T17:14:00.000-07:00

When it grows dark outside, my kids have a game they like to play called "Darkness". It usually consists of them running around the house in the near dark with wind-up flashlights playing whatever games occur to them at the time.

Tonight they insisted on near total darkness, despite the fact that they couldn't find their flashlights. They are pretending to be bats, which consists in them running from one side of the house to the other while saying "Bats!" over and over.

Really what I want to do right now, aside from enjoying their (repetitive) game, is to knit this little dishcloth I started today. Who would have thought a 32 year old woman, in her own home, would knit in the dark with only the glow of a computer screen because two little people want to pretend they are bats in the dark?

A Second Helping of Baby Cutie-Pie

2008-10-06T16:12:00.000-07:00

I hope you'll forgive me the indulgent display of baby pictures. I've waited a long time to have adorable baby photos to share. The early photos of this child wouldn't have had the same effect as these do. Isn't he cute?

So far, wee Henry sleeps a LOT. Normally, this is a trait to be envied in a baby, but the result around here is mostly frustration. He won't wake to eat like he should and so it can be difficult (read: frustrating, impossible, time-consuming) to get him to nurse. I've given him two bottles already because I couldn't get him to wake for a feeding and it had simply been too long to let it go any longer. He's still pre-term (35 weeks last Thursday) so I'm hoping that his drive to eat (and wake) will improve over the next couple of weeks. Right now he's like the sleepiest newborn you've ever known. . . on valium.

Homecoming

2008-10-05T07:20:00.000-07:00

The day has finally arrived! Henry is home!

He came home Friday, to my surprise. The night before he had his 12 hour scan test where they monitor his vitals to make sure he isn't dropping his heart rate or his breathing and that it's safe to bring him home. I was worried about this one. But I'll save you the drama by saying that I didn't think he would pass and that it would be still more days before we could bring him home, but I walked into the NICU that morning and the nurse asked, "So, how would you like to bring Henry home today?"

You bet.

It took way longer than it should have, but finally, FINALLY, Henry was discharged and we could bring him home.

When it came to leaving, I had both Thomas and Anna with me, Henry in his car seat, and several bags of Henry's things to bring home. They offered to have one of the care assistants meet me out front with Henry and his impedimenta and I happily accepted. But I looked at Henry, sitting in his car seat, and I considered how many hours it had taken to get him discharged. Then I picked it up and said, no, I had better bring him with me. I didn't want to risk the hospital screwing it up and having to spend another 4 hours trying to get him out the door. No, I was taking him with me. I could leave his blankets and clothes behind, but I wasn't going anywhere without my baby!

As I drove out of the parking lot I thought of the weeks and weeks I had spent in the hospital (7) and the weeks and weeks Henry had spent in the NICU (5). I thought about how Saturday would be the first day in months that I wouldn't be going to the hospital. I remembered it all and I started to cry, though only a little because I didn't want to have to explain to Thomas why I would be crying. So much has happened and now we can finally try to settle back into our new life.

I've had a premature baby before and I know that the next few months will be long ones. But for now I'm not going to worry about it. For now it's enough that Henry is finally home and all is well again.

Henry and Thomas

Henry and Anna (Henry is just over 5 lbs)

Upswing

2008-09-30T10:25:00.000-07:00

Are you ready for some good news? For a change?

Henry has really gotten the hang of nursing! He just seemed to "click" with the idea of sucking and swallowing (and breathing) and has had a very good run of oral feeding. He got his first bottle at 1 a.m. last night and he did very well at that, too. The nurse practitioner who is in charge of Henry's case said that if he continues to do well he may be ready to come home this weekend. Did you catch that? This weekend.

I'm bringing in his car seat when I go in again this afternoon. Preemies need to have a "trial" in their car seat, hooked up to monitors for a period of time (15 min? 20 min? I can't remember what happened for Thomas). They want to make sure that their position in the car seat doesn't cause them to have apnea spells. Henry will also have another scan where he will be hooked up to very sensitive monitors for 24 hours and the doctors will see if he's having spells of not breathing or dropping their heartbeat that are too brief for the regular monitors to catch.

If he passes all of these tests, then he will finally be discharged and allowed to come home. Our house, of course, isn't anything to look at right now and is causing me more than a fair share of stress as the end of our remodel keeps getting pushed back. Everything is in disarray as we wait for the end of this (horrible) project. But I don't want to think about that right now. All I want to think about is that our time at the hospital may be coming to an END!

Hooray!

Temptation

2008-09-23T12:52:00.000-07:00

Henry is learning to nurse. They want to give him a week to get breastfeeding established before beginning oral feedings with a bottle. Preemie babies don't experience nipple confusion the way a full-term baby will if you give them practice at breastfeeding first. They want me to come to the hospital for two feedings a day.

First, let me say that Henry has been doing very well for a wee 33 week preemie. He's latched on, mastered breathing and sucking as well as sucking and swallowing. He is an Olympic master. Someone should raise the American flag.

Now let me say this: Teaching a premature baby to breast feed is tedious, hair-pulling business. It is slow and often frustrating. It's all about giving them an opportunity to do something they aren't really ready for. You have to keep working at it, but you can't push too hard because too much effort will stress out your baby and you will have gotten nowhere. Even when they get kind of good at it, you need to figure out how much food they got while nursing and then supplement with either the bottle or the tube feeding. We are starting now, but it will take about two weeks before we are anywhere near having an adequately nursing baby. Even when we bring him home, he won't be stellar and we will have to carefully monitor his weight gain at the clinic for a few weeks to make sure he is getting enough calories. They just run out of energy so quickly and breast feeding takes a tremendous about of energy.

[Here is where our heroine stands shaking her clenched fists at the sky] I am so sick of doing all of this. I am tired of pumping, measuring milk output that isn't quite adequate, driving to the hospital and sitting for hours in the NICU. I don't want to have to worry about milk intake, minutes nursing, and weight gain like I did with Thomas. I want Henry to be wash-and-wear. I have done this all once before and I really feel like I've served my time. I feel like I'm on mile 18 of a 20 mile slog and I don't want to have to go another step. There is very little about this that is made better by previous experience. I appreciate that I'm not the only parent in the NICU that is going through this, or worse, but this is my temper tantrum and I'll have it, by God.

I want to give Henry a bottle. Bottling Henry would make so much easier in the short term. He could progress with his feedings whether I'm in the NICU or not. We would know how much he's taking orally at each feeding and would be able to supplement with the tube feedings as needed. I wouldn't have to worry about his weight gain as much after we've brought him home. I would know how much he is getting. Also, I wouldn't have to speak to another lactation nurse for as long as I live. There is one at the NICU who always stresses me out and makes me cry.

I know that breast milk is far and away better than formula. I know that. And that's why I'm going to keep breastfeeding until it's apparent that it isn't working. We need all of the immunities Henry can get particularly because of his prematurity. But I still wish I could quit and give this up entirely without worrying that he'll be the worse for it. It's so different with these little ones. Babies get all of their immune system stuff in the last few weeks of pregnancy. It's the same with their stores of iron, too. Premature babies don't really recover from that so they need iron supplements and the immunities from breastmilk more than a full-term baby.

It's just so hard to feel like you want to quit, but not feeling able.

Babies Sleep

2008-09-21T18:58:00.001-07:00

It's a big day for wee Henry. He's been practicing nursing for a few days now, but today he actually got some milk for his efforts!

Babies don't develop a reliable suck-swallow reflex until they're about 35 weeks. Henry is showing signs that he is getting ready for life outside of the hospital. He is over 4 lbs now and you can see by the picture that he is getting chubby cheeks! I congratulated him on looking more like a baby and less like a fetus. Perhaps that's only funny in the NICU. When these babies are born so early they don't look like the babies you typically see strolling around malls in car seats and strollers. Slowly, though, they grow and you start to see the baby they are going to be.

They have taken him off of that caffeine-like medicine. He is still having the spells where his heart will stop beating or he will stop breathing for a bit, but the nurses don't seem concerned. He bounces out of them pretty quickly and without intervention.

I have hopes that Henry will be home in about three weeks. It could be as early as two weeks, but I'm not holding my breath. And I'm willing to give him all of the time he needs. Premature babies are more challenging to care for once they're finally home. It's a pain to drive in to the hospital every day, but I am appreciating the 24 hour nursing that Henry has while I take care of things at home. I can't wait until he is ready to come home!

The Land of Milk and Honey--but Mostly Milk

2008-09-19T20:05:00.000-07:00

I don't know how many of you have been praying for me, but I thought you would be interested. My milk supply has nearly DOUBLED in the last two days.

I used to sit down and pump about half an ounce. It didn't matter much whether it had been two hours since I last pumped, or three. I would sit down and pump about half an ounce either way. Today I've been getting closer to a full ounce every time I pump (which is about every two to three hours)!

I'm still behind what Henry is needing, but it is extremely encouraging to see that my supply can go up and that I can hope to be able to meet his milk requirements when he's big enough to nurse.

So--Hurray!

Also!

2008-09-17T10:42:00.000-07:00

I put on my pre-pregnancy pants today. While this would make normal people happy, I have to admit that it made me a little sad. The only reason I can fit into these pants three weeks post-partum is because I never had a chance to get very pregnant to begin with.

Things like this come up from time to time. I'll notice what I've lost in Henry's early birth and with my weeks in the hospital. I'll be able to let go of what should have happened eventually, but until then I'll have to simply be sad or angry on occasion.

Here's a small example: I live in Minnesota. It's winter here about six months out of the year and spring and fall another three and actual summer is only three months long. I went into the hospital in mid-July, right before my birthday. I was discharged at the beginning of September and got to enjoy a week of summer weather before getting smacked with hard core Fall. The high for today? Mid-sixties. I want my freakin' summer back.

Progress

2008-09-17T10:26:00.000-07:00

I am so tired. I don't know how much of this is due to the bed rest and how much is due to irregular sleep patterns.

I've really given up pumping much milk at night. I pump about every two hours during the day and several times in the evening after the kids go to bed. I'm taking fenugreek in an attempt to increase my milk supply. It works great if you want to smell like maple syrup. For me, it is doing little to help me make more milk.

I am hoping that I'll be able to make enough milk to nurse Henry when he gets home. I'll have to do high-calorie preemie formula twice a day when he gets home and my doctor thinks that between this and what I'm producing he should have enough. I'll give it a trial, but it's hard to be optimistic when I spend time pumping and have so little to show for it. I am coming to terms with the idea that Henry might be my "bottle baby". In the meantime, if any of you have miracle ideas for increasing my milk supply while I'm pumping, I would love to hear them.

They had put Henry on a medicine that acts like caffeine to stimulate his heartbeat and breathing. It was working very well and now they want to try him off of it. They'll know pretty quickly if he needs some more time on it. If he doesn't, that's great; if he does, it's not a big deal since he'll do fine off of it as he matures.

They also moved Henry from his isolette into an open crib. We are waiting to see if he will maintain his own body temperature. So far he has done okay. He is hanging on to the bottom edge of what they deem acceptable. I imagine that he will improve as he gains more weight and that he won't need to be moved back to the isolette unless someone gets twitchy.

That's all for now. I need to put Anna down for her nap and see if Thomas feels sleepy. I need a break. It is amazing how tired a person can be and still go trough the motions of living.

Photos

2008-09-13T11:22:00.000-07:00

I thought I'd share some pictures of Henry. He's back up to his birth weight now--a whopping 3 lbs 9 oz.

They moved him into a "satellite nursery". Since he is stable they decided he could go to the Level II NICU and out of the Level III NICU. They needed to make room for more critically ill babies. It means we have to give up our private room and that instead of one nurse to two babies, Henry is sharing a nurse with two to three other babies. I miss the privacy of our single room. I miss it a lot. Henry is in a big room that can be divided by curtains. I'm not looking forward to teaching Henry how to breastfeed in such an open area! But I am happy that Henry is doing so well.

Comfort Food

2008-09-12T15:35:00.000-07:00

I've never been one for comfort eating. I understand the idea of having foods that are comforting in a nostalgic, sentimental way, and I certainly have cravings for junk food occasionally, but I've never been one who just eats because it feels good.

Since Henry has been in the hospital, that has certainly changed. I've not only been craving the crappiest food on the planet--Doritos, candy bars (I haven't had a candy bar in years!), ice cream, and chocolate in any form--but I've found that just eating any kind of food feels good. It may be because I'm actually hungry, but I'm surprised at how satisfying it is to eat.

I think it's a latent coping mechanism that I've never needed before. I've been under so much stress as I recover from the surgery, live through the last weeks of the kitchen remodel, try in vain to establish some kind of milk supply with the breast pump, and make as many trips to the NICU as I can in a week. I feel like I've had an emotional headache for two weeks now.

A lot of this is normal, post-partum hormonal wreckage. And a lot of it is just living in flux as we wait for Henry to grow big enough to bring home. Some of it is having my house, which I like to be a stable, familiar place, torn up. Eating seems to get me out of my head and helps me bring focus to my physical body. It's not a great place to be, either, what with the incision, the water retention, and the stretch marks, but it's certainly a better neighborhood than my mind is these days.

I think I'm glad that this is the last time I'll be having a baby. After everything we've been through with our babies there isn't a person alive who would think pregnancy is a good idea for me. It's just too much drama. And I'm not sure that there are enough candy bars in the world to keep me covered if this were to happen again!

The Verdict Is. . .

2008-09-09T17:10:00.000-07:00

The doctors have decided for now that Henry's drops in heart rate and breathing are due to his prematurity. His hemoglobin is a bit low, but not low enough to make the doctors think that this is what is causing his problems. For now, they have decided to put him on a medicine that acts like caffeine to stimulate his breathing and heart rate. So, my baby is gestationally 31 weeks along now and already he's an espresso junkie.

I'm inexplicably pleased with this diagnosis. Because I knew that this might happen, it seems less frightening. It also means that Henry will get poked one less time than he would if this were a problem requiring a blood transfusion. Peter is still looking into donating some blood so that it will be available if Henry does require it. It won't go to waste in any event.

I'm hoping that in a few days he'll be off of the oxygen and back on track. He'll be 32 weeks on Thursday and I'm hoping that he'll continue improving and that he'll be on track to coming home. You know--in another month and a half.

This Is What They Mean When They Say "Expect Setbacks"

2008-09-07T16:39:00.000-07:00

I called Henry's nurse at the NICU to check in on how he's been doing today.

Premature babies often have what are called "spells" where they either stop breathing or their hearts stop beating. Sometimes they are subtle and the babies come out of them on their own (which is what Henry has been having periodically) or they are more dramatic and they require someone, like the nurse, to come in and rub their scalp or move them to get them going again. Thomas had these, like most premature babies, and Henry had been having them, too. They weren't a big deal and he was doing very well since he only had them occasionally and most of the time he came out of them on his own. Yesterday he started having them more frequently and they had to put him back on the oxygen.

I always suspect the nurses of down playing any of these "bumps" in the road to prevent parents like me from weeping on the phone and tearing their hair out overnight. However, the nurse was pretty casual about this little setback. She explained that they would be doing some blood tests to see if he was destating more due to low hemoglobin levels or if he was possibly not making his own red blood cells yet due to his prematurity. If this is the case, they would need to give him, what did she say?, a blood transfusion? It's hard to say because the buzzing in my ears was pretty loud at this point. I asked if Peter could donate the blood since he was a match, but there wouldn't be enough time to donate and have the blood processed for Henry to get it. I imagine if he needs multipule transfusions this would be possible for the future.

I was just begining to think that Henry's stay in the NICU would be as boring and uneventful as Thomas's had mercifully been. I had been hoping that my biggest challenge would be developing a decent milk supply using the breast pump. I guess patience is still the greatest virtue at this point. It's just so hard to be patient and brave all at the same time.

Spinning Plates

2008-09-07T07:59:00.000-07:00

We're having a quiet day at home today. We're trying to settle into some kind of familiar routine, despite having a battery of childcare helpers coming while I recover from Henry's c-section. Our kitchen is still torn up (and thus the whole house) from the remodel and nothing is where is should be, including the plumbing, and this is contributing to a sense of disruption. A quiet day at home together is just what we need.

Any surface appearance of normality is purely an illusion for me, though. Most of my family is here with me, but it's not the same as it was. It's strange how Henry has changed our family even though he's never been here with us. I don't think our family will be the same while he's still in the hospital.

I don't feel as torn and guilty about Henry's hospital stay as I did when it was Thomas spending his weeks in the NICU. But days like today when I could go to the hospital and spend time with Henry, but instead choose to stay home with the rest of my family are a terrible balancing act. I need to weigh Thomas and Anna's need for time with me against Henry's need to have me there with him, bringing him pumped milk, holding him skin-to-skin, and hearing my voice. I can't be at the hospital every day, especially not while I am depending on someone else to drive me there and pick me up. But today I am choosing to stay home. Peter could load the kids into the car, make the 25 minute drive to the hospital, bring everyone home and then reverse the process to pick me up in a few hours. But instead we are here, just hanging out.

We'll go tomorrow and I won't be able to go Tuesday. Wednesday I'll go, but I don't know what is happening on Thursday and Friday. And I don't know what will happen when my Helpers go back to their work and I'm home caring for Thomas and Anna again during the day. I'll most likely drive to the hospital in the evenings.

This will only last a few more weeks (Five more? Maybe?) before we are all able to be home together. I'm so glad I won't always have to make decisions about who needs me most. At least not every day.

Re-Entry

2008-09-01T18:43:00.001-07:00

Henry is still doing very well. He is breathing all on his own now, is maintaining his own body temperature, and is digesting the food they are giving him. They are feeding him what breastmilk I am able to pump and are making up the difference with formula. I'm a pumping fool, but I'm just not putting out that much in volume. I expect that in the next few days I'll start having an increase in output, but it's only hope that makes me think I'll be able to express more with Henry than I was able to with Thomas. If you have pumping tricks or tips, I'd be glad to hear them. For some reason I've never been one of those women who have stockpiles of breastmilk languishing in their freezers. I make some, but never enough to meet demand. Why is this?

I've been home for a day and a half now. I think it would be easier if our kitchen (and house) weren't all torn up for the remodel. I know there are only two more weeks left before it's done, but the whiny part of me hates that it's torn up now when I'm so fresh from bed rest and surgery. In two weeks I'll be feeling much better and it will matter less that I have to go up stairs to refill my water bottle. For now, I'm learning to deal with it as it is and to cope. Peter has been feeling overwhelmed with the added domestic responsibilities he's had the past seven weeks and so he has less energy to do some things for me. He'll do them; he's just less cheerful about it. Normally this would be fine, but I'm an emotional, hormonal mess on narcotics, so instead of being understanding I feel a little slighted.

The kids are delighted that I'm home again. I'm sure you can imagine. Anna didn't quite know what to make of me at first, but Thomas saw me this morning and cried out, "Mommy!" as though he were waking from a wonderful dream to find that it was really real. I felt like I was on Little House on the Prairie. It was a great feeling. I'm having a hard time keeping up with their energy, but it's still very, very good to be back with them again.

On another note, do any of you know anything about retaining water in your feet and ankles after delivery? I seriously have Hobbit feet. They are unrecognizable as human appendages. I want to know when they will go away. I can't even see my ankle bones anymore. If this coninutes, you'll be able to float me above Macy's parade on Thanksgiving Day!

Baby Mine

2008-08-30T13:49:00.001-07:00

I can't wait until I get home so I can post an updated picture of Henry. He is so beautiful.

I got to hold him on my chest last night when I came to visit. They've taken him off of that clunky breathing machine and now he's on a low-pressure nose-prong type device that gives the least amount of breathing assistance. I like it much better because it's less intrusive and seems much more comfortable for him to wear.

Now that he has a smaller tube I can actually see his little face! They took off the hat he had been wearing and I've been able to see that he has a fair bit of dark, wavy hair, too. His face is wrinkly and he looks like a teeny little old man. He is so sweet.

In somewhat related news, they are holding the Republican National Convention just a couple of blocks from the hospital we are staying in. I'm discharged tomorrow (ack! Who will take care of me now?) so for the next week I will have a very hard time getting back here to spend time with Henry, when I am able to come at all. I'll have driving restrictions for two weeks as I recover from surgery.

I think that most of our friends and family who have been coming to care for the kids are going to continue to come to help out as I recover. Can I begin to tell you how lucky I am? It is hard to swallow your pride when you first begin to really depend on other people to help you. It is hard to realize that you simply cannot do what needs to get done on your own. But when you move past that, you are nothing but grateful that you have people who love you so much and who are able to give you the help that you need. We have all of these people who have helped us freely with no expectation of repayment. What more can a person want in their life but such wonderful people like these? Henry is so fortunate to have such a group of people waiting to welcome him home.

Welcome, Baby!

2008-08-28T14:23:00.000-07:00

I'd like to introduce you to our newest little one. Meet Henry Steven Edstrom. He was born last evening at 5pm and weighs 3 lbs 9 oz.

He was breech, so of course he needed to come via cesarean section. Everything went well and he cried when he was born. He was just beautiful. Even though he was breathing at his birth, they still opted to put him on a cpap machine so that he wouldn't get too tired out trying to breathe. He didn't need to be put on a ventilator or anything like that--hooray! He is doing very well, especially for a 30 week baby.

I know the picture looks a little scary with the breathing mask and the IV board on his hand and all of the other tubes and tape. Believe me, though, that he is doing an amazing job. He's moving quite a bit and is even opening his eyes for us when we're in the room talking to him. I only wish we could spend more time with him, but it's hard for me to be up and out of bed for very long.

I just wanted to stop in and share our good news. I want to thank you all for your prayers, kind wishes, and support during this difficult time. You have no idea how your comments and emails have cheered and encouraged me.

Now we wait and hope for a speedy and trouble-free stay in the NICU!

Waiting

2008-08-27T10:20:00.000-07:00

My days left in the hospital are numbered.

Last night there was a bit of green discharge which looked like meconium in my fluid. The doctor on call ordered an IV, no food or fluids, and for me to be monitored for six hours--from six until midnight. I'm afraid I disgraced myself when the IV person tried three times to dig a needle into my vein. By the third time she was trying unsuccessfully to put it in my hand, I started crying for her to stop. They got another person to come in and she took two stabs before it got put in. It took quite a while before I was able to settle myself down. It was overwhelming to have to be continuously monitored, with an IV, and not even water to drink.

By midnight I was off the monitor--baby looked fine--and I was finally able to sleep. At six the doctor wanted me to spend another two hours on the monitor, so the sleep was short-lived.

This morning Peter and the kids came for a visit, which is lucky, I suppose, since my white blood cell counts came back elevated and indicating that an infection is brewing. Peter was able to talk to the doctor who is rounding today and hear that we might be delivering the baby today, or maybe not. Right now we don't know what will happen for sure since they want to continuously monitor the baby to see how he or she is doing. If no other signs of infection appear and baby is doing well, they will probably leave the baby in a while longer. If it seems like baby is in distress at all, they will deliver the little one today. Either way, my hospital stay just got a lot less pleasant.

I'll be 30 weeks tomorrow.

Six Weeks of Bed Head

2008-08-25T08:17:00.000-07:00

I've been in Hospital de la Casa for six weeks now awaiting the impending arrival of Baby Nuevo. Obviously, I am still pregnant. I really want to make it to 30 weeks, which happens on Thursday. After a night like last night, I know to keep my goals modest for a while.

I didn't sleep much last night because I kept having uncomfortable contractions that woke me up. Finally, around four in the morning I gave up on sleep and watched the clock for a while. I was having contractions every ten to fifteen minutes. I thought about calling my nurse, but I didn't know what to ask for and I didn't know what to expect her to do. She might have hooked me up to the monitor, but it's always been poor at picking up my contractions in the past. In the end I went back to sleep and woke up at 6:45. The contractions seem to have settled down again, though my uterus feels sore from all of the activity. I wish the doctor I saw yesterday were on rounds again today because I'd like to ask her what she thinks these contractions are doing. It seems strange that after all of these weeks post-rupture that I would suddenly go into labor without any other symptoms of infection. The doctor rounding today is a doctor I have never met before so I think I need to proceed with caution when discussing the contractions. I don't want anyone to overreact and operate before we absolutely have to. The baby's heart rate looked good on the monitor this morning, so I don't see any reason to panic per se, but I have concerns.

Really, all I want is the doctor to say it's no big deal and that we need to "wait and see".

I wish I knew how this is all going to end. It would save me a great deal of worry in the meantime. In this case, doctors don't seem to have many answers, but if this one has an interesting opinion, apart from "wait and see", I'll let you know after he's done with his visit.