Knitting Request

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.

Countdown

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?

Winter is Not for Sissies

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!

Baby Mine

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.

Bring Home Baby List

I have been gradually realizing over the past few days that I am not ready for a new baby yet. Surprised? Don't misunderstand me--I have the little socks and sleepers and the infant car seat as well as a crib, tiny cloth diapers, and a changing pad. But I realized yesterday that nothing is ready yet!

The baby clothes and diapers should be rewashed and brought upstairs, I still want to knit a baby hat for the wee one, and I really should get some long sleeve onsies and t-shirts (preemies use these a lot). This is a lot like the dream where you show up to prom in your nightgown. I'm trying not to panic because no matter when the baby is born there is likely to be at least a short stay in the NICU for him or her and I can prepare things then. But I still get a little worried because I'm not able to be home to do any of the preparations for our impending arrival now.

But all of the little chores that are on my Bring Home Baby list are nothing compared to the item at the top of this list, the only thing that really should be done before the baby is born. We need to pick out a name.

Sure, the cloth dipaers and little sleepers can wait. What does the kid need for the first few days besides a little gown and one pack of disposables? But right after your baby is born, the first thing the nurses ask is "So, does the little guy have a name yet?" Am I supposed to say NO? And then how long do you take to decide? What if a WEEK goes by and your baby still doesn't have a name? This is how kids get named "Precious" or "Goober".

I'm not even sure where to start. We've had a hard time getting even a modest list of names to materialize. Also, I'd like some time to think of a name and live with it for a while. I don't want to have the baby, name it Sparkle (hey! works for a boy OR a girl!) and realize a month later that Sparkle is a stripper's name. We've had the name Eleanor on the list for a while and I like it, but I don't know if I can live with it. Every day. Maybe I'll never get past the "old lady" feel it seems to carry around the edges. Beatrice poses some of the same problems. How about Penelope? There is so much I love about this name, but maybe it's too exotic for a child growing up in the Midwest. Or maybe it doesn't fit with Thomas and Anna's names. Thomas, Anna, and Penelope. Hmm. I am riddled with indecision. We have some names on the list, but there aren't any that jump up and grab my attention in a perfect, pearl-like way. The Boy List is another issue. Instead of a list of names I love 3/4 of the way, I have a list of NOTHING. Ok, we have two names, but, again, I love them 3/4 of the way.

So, what do you think? Want to help name a baby?

If you like, you can give me some of your ideas and in a couple of days I'll post a list of some of our picks. After that, we'll talk some more. It's a Baby Naming Summit Conference and you're all invited. You may dress informally.

If you'd like help with your suggestions, you should know that we like names that are more traditional. Kylee or Harlee probably won't make the cut. Despite the conservative nature of Thomas and Anna's names, we do like names that are more unusual like Beatrice, Penelope, Violet or Maeve. BUT, if it is unusual I like to avoid something that could end up being trendy-ish. This is a concern for me with Beatrice--could Beatrice, in five years, be the next Olivia, Sophia, or Amelia? All of this is subjective, I know, and I'll tell you now that we need more suggestions than less.

Thanks for your help! I hope I won't need to have a name ready for another 9-10 weeks still!

Update

First of all, I want to thank you for all of your prayers and kind thoughts. When I get discouraged, I remember all of the people who are praying for me, my baby, and my family and it encourages me to know that so many people are surrounding us with their care.

I've waited to write anything more in hopes that I might have something more to share, but I'm afraid that life on the ante partum unit is not unlike life anywhere else. No news is good news. I'm still pregnant and the baby seems healthy. We can only wait and see where this is going. There is nothing I can do to help the situation other than to lie very, very still. All day. Every day. As much as I pity Peter's burden in all of this, I can bet you that he doesn't envy me a jot. I had been thinking of this as a version of Mommy Jail, but it occurred to me that even prisoners have recreation programs and physical fitness hours. I do have internet access, however, and someone to bring me water. I wager that the food is about the same, though.

So, here I am, trying to keep my spirits up and not spend too much time worrying about the baby or how things are going at home. Luckily, I know the kids are being well cared for by family and friends. They have been able to be with people they know and with whom they are comfortable. We are trying to keep them home most of the time, so that they can have some stability and structure to their lives. The person making them the peanut butter sandwich might change, but at least they will be home.

The great irony in this, of course, is that our kitchen is still set to be demolished on July 28th. So, even though they will be home, our house is going to change a great deal. At least they will be there to see the changes happen as the work progresses. It won't be too great a shock if they are there to watch and understand what is happening. I'm afraid that for me it will be more like falling asleep in the car and not knowing where I am when I wake up when I finally am able to go home again.

Wall of Disappointment

My husband works for schizophrenic monkeys.  Monkeys with no ability to organize.  He likes his company, but working for wild primates has a lot of challenges.  For weeks and weeks he's been anticipating a business trip that gets scheduled with tickets purchased, then canceled, then scheduled and then canceled again.  I don't mind.  Flexibility is my middle name.  Now it looks as though the dates for his trip have actually been set--the project has been finished, tested, launched, and now it's time for The Trip.  But seems as though the Malicious Monkeys of Madness have conspired against me.  It wasn't enough to jerk P around.  Now they've spoiled my plans.

A local yarn store here in St Paul has organized an event for the Yarn Harlot's latest book tour.  I got to go to the last one and had a great time.  I enjoyed going with my sister in law Rachel and seeing all of the knitters.  I nearly cracked a rib laughing at Stephanie's talk.  I even got to stand in line and have her sign my copy of her first book, Yarn Harlot, though I learned that I am unavoidably awkward in public and that it's best if I don't go through the book signing line again.  She said some very nice things to me and I could only bumble out a half-coherent, probably impolite response.  I wonder if she gets used to people becoming star-struck whenever they get within five feet of her?  Meeting Salman Rushdie didn't faze me a bit, but Stephanie Pearl-McPhee?  Bumbling goon.  It's lucky for me that I hardly ever come into the presence of Greatness or I'd never be able to string words together again.

  

Just the same, I thought I could manage to go to the event and hear her speak without embarrassing myself too badly.  I had tickets.  I got them the weekend that The Yarnery announced the event.  I've been planning this for months, a night of laughter, yarn, and knitters.  I was even going to get a new book.  But then what happened?  The Inevitable.  The trip got scheduled for the night of the event.  All grandparents are booked.  The kids are too young to be left alone, despite my brother's helpful suggestion that I could always leave them in their rooms with newspaper on the floor and a box of Cherrios.  Drat.

I'm trying to be Brave and Grown-up about this.  I don't feel as though Christmas got canceled or like my birthday was forgotten, but it does rather feel like we decided to skip Mother's Day.  P feels badly about it, not that he is responsible for this or that there is anything he can do to change it.  

The only positive thing I can think is that perhaps there are a couple of knitters who didn't get to see Stephanie when she was last in town and that now they'll be able to go.  I did get to see her once and I'll still be able to buy a copy of the book, which I am certainly looking forward to reading.  And I'll be able to enjoy the book in bed, with a hot cup of tea, and no long lines of people.  I think I'll need it after a week on my own with the kids.  Bah-humbug.

Minnesota Girl

You can tell that this picture was taken about a month ago. My daughter is not only missing a jacket in this picture, but she is also dressed in short sleeves. We went out today wearing our winter coat.

But despite our lack of pluck in the face of 40 degree weather, A is still a Minnesota Girl. Whenever anything happens that surprises her she give a hearty "Uff-da!"

I couldn't believe my ears when I first heard it. It's not like I go around spouting random colloquialisms throughout the day. My best guess is that she's been spending a lot of time around her grandma--the Queen of Minnesota. My mom knows a dozen hot dish recipes and can tell the difference between a jello salad and a jello dessert. You think Fargo and Grumpy Old Men are humorous movies based on a stereotype of Minnesota culture, but I believe that they are more documentary than comedy.

In any case, I'd just like to mark the moment that A began the path that will eventually lead her to earn a college degree at St. Olaf college. It will be a teary day for me when my little girl grows up--and wears her first Nordic sweater to church on Christmas Eve.

We're Ok

The phone calls have all been made--we're ok.

The 35W bridge collapsed in Minneapolis yesterday and it was a tense evening until we could contact everyone. I felt pretty confident that our friends and family would be fine, but it's hard to climb down off the ceiling until you know for sure. The wireless network was overloaded and it took a few tries before our calls could get through, but eventually they did and luckily everyone was safe and sound.

What keeps this from being just another news event is knowing that not everyone in our community could say the same.