Sunday, January 24, 2010

Eat. Sleep. Knit.

This is my favorite new online yarn shop. $5 shipping, or free shipping on orders over $75. Seriously.

And you know right away if they have the yarn you want in stock or not - which I love. How do I know? Because when you click on "add to cart" it tells you right away....."We do not have that quanity of yarn - we only have 2 of that item" or whatever they have. You don't have to wonder if you're going to get an email later telling you that they only have have 1 skein of the yarn in that you ordered 7 skeins of, and would you mind getting the other 6 skeins in 2-12 weeks??. Anywho....

They also have a "yarnathon", which is a yarn marathon. They keep track of how much yardage you buy and you get prizes and discounts and stuff when you hit milestones, like 1 mile, 5 k, 10 k, half marathon, etc. It's pretty cool.

And, if you visit their store from my link (which I may just be adding a link to the sidebar as well) then I get more yardage. So go see. It's awesome!!

Friday, January 22, 2010

Quickie Friday

No, not *that* kind of quickie, sheesh.

Although, as married business goes, I think planning a day a week to engage in the sacramental act of matrimony gives both parties involved something to look forward to. Just sayin'.


** I have finally joined the sleeves and body of the sweater that will never die, aka The Husband Sweater, all on one needle. 15 stitches from each sleeve and 30 stitches from the body have been placed on waste yarn to graft the underarms later. That leaves 470 stitches on the needles. Four hundred seventy. Each Round. Howy cwap.

** Today is the first official day of me having all-day-sickness of this pregnancy. I am trying to look at the bright side (yes, there is a reason for "morning sickness") which is that my body and my baby are doing extremely well if I am feeling sick. It is a sign that the hormones are all turned on and the baby is growing well. Oh, that and I am now in for a 15 lb. weight loss over the next two months. I've got it to lose, so I guess it's fine. Although in a "professional" opinion, one should not be losing weight AT ALL during pregnancy. Previous pregnancies tell me I will anyway. I always do.

** I hate to share this, but maybe it will help someone else feel more normal if the truth is out there in print.

I have not showered in 6 days. I look like hell. While I was sleeping last night, I finally realized that there is a very special smell about me. I didn't even bother getting dressed yesterday and even though it is noon today I still have yet to get dressed today.

Having toddlers does not help. I cannot get 1/2 an hour just to run some hot water over me and be alone. Someone always needs something and it seems my needs, no matter how basic, are getting ignored.

** I have not left my house, even to walk outside, in 5 days.

This is probably a good thing if you consider the previous point.

** Okay, honestly, while in the midst of typing this my husband requested some food at work. So now I have left the house. But it wasn't pretty. Let me paint you a picture:

I made his food and packed it up. I called and informed him I would not be entering the building and he would be required to venture to my vehicle to retrieve his lunch/dinner.

My first time out of the house and I have on: a pair of winter boots, calf length, untied with no socks; a baggy pair of cloth black pants; a tie-dyed men's 2XL Hanes V-neck undershirt (I can't believe I just typed that); and a dried-snot-covered, machine-knit, too small to button over my boobs cardigan/sweater. Really. Oh, and hair that had been unbrushed for 6 days. But I pu it in a pony-tail. That's like a shower? Right?

AND I have to get a pack of diapers out of my husband's truck (that he was supposed to bring in before he left).

I get to the county building my husband works in and pull up to his truck. I look awful. I put my car in park, take out the keys, and approach the truck. Of course, OF COURSE, one of the county maintainence guys who plows the roads or something is standing RIGHT THERE, shoveling snow off the walkway. Ugh. Great. But I need the diapers. He smiles politely and waves. I smile back. I think he's trying to hide a laugh. I hope he doesn't know who's truck this is.

I drive around to the other side of the building and park in between the cop cars. Geez there are a lot of them here today. I call my husband and he says he'll be right out. Mr. Polite snow shoveler is now on this side of the building. I avoid eye contact at all costs.

My husband finally makes it out, takes his lunch, kisses me, and says, "Oh my Gosh! Get the heck outta here. You look like hell!", cracks a crooked grin, and laughs while taking a look at the guy shoveling the snow. I laugh and say, "I told you so," kiss him back and drive off.

Totally embarrassing.

** If I had a D-cup bra before my first pregnancy, was a DD pregnant, nursed in an F, started the next pregnacy (#2) in a DD, was an F pregnant, and nursed in an H-cup, got pregnant with #3 while still nursing, was an I-cup while pregnant, and am currently nursing him in an L-cup and am pregnant again (#4) --- I ask you, are there any letters in the alphabet left for me???

Saturday, January 16, 2010

What was I thinking??

When I wrapped my mind around our wonderful news last week, I was all too thrilled and excited (and surprised!). "Wow," I thought. "He chose me again! He must really think we're doing a good job! What a wonderful blessing and testament to our marriage!"

I thought of itty-bitty-knitting, cuddling a newborn again, the warm nuzzle of nighttime with a babe at my get the picture. I daydreamed about a beautiful labor and a glorious, hormone esclated post-partum period. I wondered at the love my children would have for this new helpless sibling as they carefully covered us with blankies when we fell asleep on the couch.

Now, as I sit here typing with one thumb while I nurse my baby through the pain of his molars, I can't help but feel, well, helpless. What was I thinking?!

"God thinks I'm doing a good job!" Yeah?! Right?!

This isn't what I wanted. I was just begining to enjoy the occasional 1/2 spent in my bed alone with my husband. We haven't even had a real "date" since the last baby has been here.

And My Lovey. I really wanted more time for just he and I. Me and him (yes, bad grammar, I know). He's just a BABY, for Pete's sake. How am I supposed to explain this all to him?

And really, who am I kidding about doing such a great job? I have the shortest temper ever lately. I feel completely overwhelmed just trying to care for the children outside of my womb now, let alone when this baby increases their ranks on me. I don't have the slightest idea *what* I'm doing, let alone how to accomplish it all.

The never ending assault of laundry, dishes, and diapers is making my head swim. Not to mention the constant voice in my head reminding me to "eat right", which I just don't have time for, but which I know I need.

I am obsessing and worrying about everything. I know too much about pregnancy and giving advice that I am literally bursting with information that I know I am too stuck in my ways to follow, even though I will probably feel better if I do.

My children are bouncing off the walls, just tempting me to raise my voice at every turn. My kids depend on me for everything. My husband depends on me. I've got midwifery school, patients, homework. A house to run, homeschooling to manage. In the next few years, I am going to be completely reaponsible for teaching a real person to read.

I bet my older ones and husband are expecting a meal when they come in from chopping wood all day. Who is going to do all the cooking? I'm just going to get tired and sick.

My hands are already going numb at night, and I threw up the other morning.

My Flower sits at my feet and says, "Mama - I need jew."

Who is going to comfort me?

What *was* I thinking? Sheesh.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Um, Pee First

And then go check out Poop and Boogies. Seriously. Funny.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Just what crack dealers need

Extreme Sheep Hearding

Extreme Sheep for Extreme Yarn

Friday, January 8, 2010

if I have to...

...change one more popcorn poopy diaper, I am going to scream.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Yarn Whore

I have an incurable need for knitting. And talking about knitting. And writing about knitting. And thinking about knitting. And dreaming about knitting (yes, I dream about knitting, usually when there is a complicated pattern I need to work out). And blogging about knitting.

Do I need a blog devoted just to knitting? Am I boring my dear, non-knitting readers every time I talk about yarn, gauge, yarn, needles, and yarn? Do you feel like it just doesn't pertain? Is it distracting you from my Catholic, stay-at-home-mom, catching-catching-babies-on-the-side, pro-life, hate Obama, new conversion, Harry Potter loving blog?

Crack Dealer

This is that which I COVET. If I had the money I'd totally do it.

And remember, that's for a whole year. A WHOLE YEAR. $235. That's less than $20/month. Less than $5/week. Less than $1/day. Less than 5 cents/hour - for pure, uncut, blissful, wonderful therapy/entertainment/crack. I mean, you just can't beat that. (Therapy is at least $2.50/minute.)

Really. It's a bargain.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Quiet Here

I realize it's been a better part of a week and I have not posted, despite my continuing promises of knitting pictures and a conversion story.

I am still here, just not getting to the real internet with a real computer.

In fact, I am typing this post at a wayside on a back highway road, with my blackberry (sorry for those typos), waiting for my husband's ex-wife to show up with our daughter.

I am a bit angry, irritated, and mad. I do not know why I let this sorry excuse for a mother bother me. But I do. I try to be grqcious. I think, "I should pray for her.". I do sometimes. But I still feel like killing thing everytime I have to interact with her.

It's as though all the puppies have lost their cuteness. Her stupidity has sucked all the sparkles out of the rainbow -they've deflated to little dried up pieces of fruit snacks, the generic ones where they all have they same crappy flavor even though they're all different shades of yuk.

Not to mention that she's late and she thinks she's doing us a favor.

She is a piece of mashed up kid chewed pig guts.

Can you tell I don't like her?

Oh! Here she is. Yeah.