The Knittin' Kitten

Six days & counting

2007-11-20T14:49:00.000-06:00

Still nothing. Some contractions, even some five minutes apart, but they don't get stronger and then they stop.

As for the knitting content, I'm nearly finished with a sweater for the kid - I'll post a photo when finished. By then, the new spiffy digital SLR should be here :)

One day post-due date & counting

2007-11-15T22:52:00.001-06:00

Yes, I've been very bad and haven't posted for a very long time. Most of you know by now that I am, in fact pregnant, and my due date was yesterday, Nov. 14 2007. One day after I turned "of advanced maternal age." It's such a lovely label! For those of you not familiar with the pregnancy literature, that means I am now 35.

The mid-wife who examined me at my appointment yesterday (because my doctor was off delivering someone else's baby) said things were progressing just fine and that she estimated another four or five days before I actually hit full stage labor. I'll spare you the specifics, especially you Scott. If you want them, email me.

At the moment, I'm feeling fine. Mostly impatient. But then, it's not like this child has the genetic make-up to be either on time or in a hurry to get here, so this shouldn't really surprise me. My pelvis feels like a wishbone, and my husband tells me I walk like the Stay Puffed Marshmallow man in Ghost Busters. But that's my only real complaint at the moment.

Actually, it's rather amusing to walk into places like Target and the grocery store and see the looks on people's faces. There's this horrified realization that I could, in fact, go in to labor and drop this kid any time. It does make for good customer service though, and people are a lot more likely to get out of your way.

We'll keep everyone posted as to when things occur. The hospital birth center lounge has an Internet computer. So I'll be able to post. With any luck the digital camera I ordered before I left the photo store will be here before baby Barsanouphios is. And no, that's not his name, but I'm not going to post it on the blog, so it works as good as any.

Consumer Rants

2006-12-03T10:04:00.000-06:00

1. Thank you Walgreen's for putting every possible item related to the uterus in one aisle. Because I need to be reminded that when I'm picking up the personal care items on the right, it means I won't be needing the baby care items on left. Thanks for the break down in public, guys. That's real sensitive.

2. Wendy's, when I ask for a baked potato with sour cream and chives instead of fries, the butter is IMPLIED. Who the hell eats a baked potato with just sour cream? Also, if I'm goin' through the drive through, I'm probably gonna need napkins in the bag too!

I'm Back!

2006-11-27T11:49:00.000-06:00

and with a slightly surreal post this time (see end of post)

Sorry, I was away so long. Things have been a little crazy, but that's been good becuase I've been keeping busy. When the miscarriage happened, I was in the middle of a show at the local community theater. I was Lenny in Crimes of the Heart. We had just done one weekend out of three of the show's run. So, I stayed home from our pickup rehearsal on Thursday, but was right back up on stage Friday night. During the weekend, one of my fellow cast-members shared her cold along with the Coke we drank together on stage, so by the following weekend, I was doing the show with almost no tonal quality to my voice. There was a forced sound, but that was about it. Then, after the show was over and I managed to get well again (after giving to B. first), I got a temp job in Des Moines doing some editing for a hairstyling college - and no that's not the surreal part.

Anyway, thank you all for your posts. I really do appreciate them. Also, thank you gang for the flowers. They were really lovely (and lasted over a week). They also gave me a little laugh because cissy's name came out as Carol. It it took me a minute to figure out. I'm doing much better now, and at this point just waiting out the two months until we can live life without condoms. After that, what happens happens.

And now, for the surreal part:
I was talking to my mother during the weekend before Thanksgiving (where she was grilling me about what we want for Christmas, but that's another post) and we were about to say goodbye when she said, "Oh, by the way, I forwarded some mail to you the other day. It was from G." (Meaning the previous BF before B.)

Yep, that's right, the former boyfriend sent me a birthday card after five years of being married to another guy - an emotionally available guy, I might add. For those of you who either don't know or remember, this was the guy I went looking for a job in Omaha to be closer to, who then dumped me because he wasn't sure he wanted to get married. Oh, yeah, and he was emotionally unavailable. I'm way better off without him, and honestly, I knew that before I ever met B. So I'm not bitter or angry at him or anything. I just have nothing more to say to him, and I'm really not sure why he makes the effort. His letter didn't really even say much. Just that he had been wondering how B. and I were doing with a few facts about what's going on in his life.

He had called my mom a few years back. (Their phone number hasn't changed in 30 years.) He was looking for my contact info because his e-mails to the Omaha account had bounced. She gave him my address, but not the phone number. He sent a birthday card. A Pooh card, if I remember correctly. This time it was a gray tabby cat holding a fish with a candle in it.

The most surreal thing was that he had Googled me and found a reference to my name in the local paper's story about Crimes.

Am I a horrible person for not wanting to contact him back? Should I just stay silent or send a message saying I don't want any further contact?

Miscarriage

2006-10-25T23:19:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I woke to spotting. I called the doctor's office, and they told me to come in that morning for an ultrasound and so they could check me out.

During the ultrasound, the technician couldn't see the baby in my uterus. The most horrible part was that she turned the monitor screen around so that I could see. For some reason, the baby stopped growing at about seven or eight weeks, and there was just nothing there. After consulting with the midwife on call and one of the OBs, I was scheduled for a D&C this morning.

I held it together long enough to get to the car, at which point I completely lost it. I must have sat there wailing for at least five or ten minutes. Then I drove home, called B. and my mom - neither of whom were answering their phones. B. called back about five minutes later and all I managed to get out was, "I lost the baby," before he said, "I'll be right home, hang on."

So, he came home and I cried all afternoon till I finally went to sleep. My mother called about 5:30, which of course started the crying all over again. She told me she would call my dad and asked if I wanted them to come up. I said there wasn't much they could do. She called back about 7 to say that dad had taken off work, they were packing and on their way.

They stayed in Des Moines last night, and managed to get to Ames before I went into surgery this morning. It was no great feat really. I was supposed to check in at 8:30, they didn't wheel me into the prep room until noon. I was one VERY grumpy, hungry patient by then. The worst thing was that I just wanted it all to be over.

When my mom came in she just took me in her arms and let me cry. I have to say it felt really good. Sometimes a girl, even a grown up married one, just wants her mommy.

I was done and out of the hospital by 3 this afternoon. I'm physically fine at this point, just emotionally pretty rattled. I would appreciate it if everyone left the sympathy comments here on the blog. I don't think I can handle e-mails or phone calls at this point.

Thanks

Rants

2006-09-20T17:26:00.000-05:00

There a couple here so, I'll divide them out.

1. Pregancy rant
I've just started reading Pregnancy Sucks (which mine doesn't, so far) as recommended by Sherrie. And Sherrie, you're right, the advice is better than What to Expect. Anyway, there's a section about when to tell people about the pregnancy. The author's advice is don't tell till the second trimester because there's greater chance of miscarriage during the first. It's not the first time I've heard this advice. When we told an old friend of B.'s (who's had three children herself), her response was that we shouldn't be telling people this early.

Maybe it's the hormones, but it hacks me off a little. I'm excited about this baby, and I want everyone to know. And I certainly don't want to spend the next two months waiting for something bad not to happen so we can finally tell people. And if something bad does happen I'd rather go through it with the support of my friends and family.

So, I guess my point is, the correct response to a woman telling you she's five weeks pregnant is, "Wow, that's great! Congratulations, I hope everything goes well for you."

2. Commercial Rant
So, I'm home alone all day and feeling tired and lazy, so I watch a lot of TV. I've been seeing this Gap commercial for the skinny black pant. What the hell! Don't these people know that the skinny black pant only looked good only Leslie Caron and Audrey Hepburn. Normal people can't wear these things.

In other news, happy birthday to B., who's 38 today.

And I talked to my mother over the weekend while they were visiting my cousins in northwest Iowa. Now, my cousin has a sixth-month-old granddaughter, so they went out shopping together .... Suffice it to say yia yia says she bought a few things for Baby Barsanouphios or Agrippina. I knew it wouldn't take long.

My little adventure with the dog next door

2006-09-19T14:21:00.000-05:00

On a completely different topic ... (yes two posts in a day, can you handle it)

I was pulling out the driveway this morning to run some errands and there was a very pretty little brown retriever wandering down the sidewalk. She had a collar and an ID tag. So, I stopped and got out of the car. I let her sniff me. She let me pet her and I got close enough to see her collar. There was a number, so I called and got the owner's cell phone.

She was about to head into work and lived two houses down from us, so I told her I'd just walk the dog back and hook her back up. There were two leashes hooked together to give a longer tether, so I planned to just use the shorter one still connected to the post. So I did, except that the dog managed to run a circle around me while I was hooking her back up, which quickly landed me on my ass in the grass. The dog then proceeded to break the second leash as well. Not surprising since it was just cotton cording with hook thingy on the end. The dog, who was called Jade, the proceeded to waller all over me because she so happy to have a playmate.

I called the owner again, and she said the garage was unlocked and I could put her in there. With some effort I managed it and went about my errands.

So that was my good deed for the day. It got me off schedule and a rope burn on my ankle.

My last hurrah

2006-09-19T14:12:00.000-05:00

Well, I recently audition for a part in the local community theater's production of Crimes of the Heart. I was cast as Lenny, the oldest sister. My character is celebrating her thirtieth birthday when the play opens, so wohoooo I get to be 30 again!

Also, it's probably my last little hurrah on the stage before I start showing so much that I can't be cast as anything. After the little bundle arrives, well, I imagine it's frowned upon to breast feed on stage.

As for all your comments on my last post:
1. That was really unnecessary, Anjie-panjie
2. I'm against finding out the sex for exactly the reasons that were cited. I like the idea of surprise, and I will be inunndated with pink and frilly (mostly from my family) if it's a girl. I don't like pink or frilly, and frankly, my mother will more than take care of the pink and frilly after the birth. Who knows, she might actually get a girl who likes it.

So far, so good

2006-09-13T08:54:00.000-05:00

Well here's hoping that some things are passed genetically. My mom said she was never sick when she was pregnant, so far I haven't been. Been queasy off and on, but that's all.

As for the names, they're the worst Greek names we could come up with out the Saints' names books. (Agrippina was also the name of an early Roman ruler who liked to kill members of her family, but also an obsecure saint name.) And no, we're not serious.

We're still debating finding out the sex. B. wants to. I don't.

And yes, I promise to post more. Right now the little parasite is hungry again, so I'm off to the kitchen to graze.

Rumors Confirmed

2006-09-08T13:10:00.000-05:00

I know some of you have been hearing bits and snatches of possiblities about what's going on out here in the land of corn, so I'm posting now to let everyone know at the same time.

The rumors are confirmed. We are expecting a little Barsanouphios or a little Agrippina in May.

So far things are going well. I had a little queasiness for a day about two weeks ago and a sudden aversion to the smell of cooked vegetables later that day, but that's been it. No actual morning sickness. No cravings.

In a true case of irony, the night before I went to the doctor's office to confirm the pink lines, B. decided he had a craving for ice cream and went across the street to the grocery store to pick some up at 11 p.m.

The parents are of course thrilled. Dad called and left a message on the cell phone one night and identified himself as Grandpa. I would guarantee that Mom will have bought something for the baby by the next time we go down to visit. Let the spoiling begin.

Just another post

2006-06-28T17:00:00.000-05:00

Well, this a catch-up post, because (suprise!) I haven't blogged in awhile.

The freelance thing is going well. I've a fairly lucrative long-term thing on the horizon, so that's good.

We're moving to Ames in August becuase B. got a new job there, and well, at this point it doesn't really matter where I am. I sit in my jammie pants most of the day anyway.

The gold (older) car was rear-ended a few weeks ago, so I'm still dealing with the insurance mess. We got slammed into a stop light by a Hy-Vee floral delivery van. I guess someone really needed their flowers.

That's about all!

"So did you side swipe Big Bird, or what?"

2006-05-12T15:32:00.000-05:00

Those were my husband's first words to me when he walked in the door last night.

My answer was, "No, but that's good. I think I'll use it."

What happened, in fact, was a drive-thru mishap. I was going through a certain fast food restaurant chain on my way home because B. was working late, and I got too close to the pole in front of the pay window, which happened to be yellow.

There's not much denting, but there is ugly yellow paint all over the side of the car. Fortunately, it was the ugly old car.

Oh well, what can you do?

Freelance Barista – or something

2006-05-10T14:09:00.000-05:00

Alright, alright, so I haven't posted in awhile. I've been avoiding because I haven't had good news to share.

A few of you know already, but I'm being downsized. The paper has stopped publishing the papers I work on, so after Monday, I have a small severance and no job.

I also have an offer of freelance work from my current boss. So, I'm thinking of freelancing and working at a certain west-coast based international coffee chain for awhile. Or something.

Hallmark Day

2006-02-14T21:33:00.000-06:00

Well, we're not really people who make V-day a big deal. In fact, B's been referring to as "Hallmark Day" for the last week or so.

Imagine my surprise when I walked into work and saw a lovely vase of white and maroon carnations on my desk. What a sweetie!

Then I got sick - I've been home with a nasty stomach flu since 2. blech!

Why I hate shopping at Old Navy

2006-02-11T15:37:00.000-06:00

Now, granted, they have pretty good clothes, and often pretty good deals. However, the reason I really hate shopping there has to do with the process of trying ON the clothes to make sure they fit. Here's why:

1. I'm wandering around the store carrying enormous sized pairs of pants (granted my fault for letting my ass get so big) that get hidden in the very back behind the tiny size 2's and 4's I USED to wear. I'm looking for the fitting room, when this stick figure with a name tag walks up and asked me if I want to try them on. I resent the stick figure because she's wearing the pants I USED to wear and looks really cute in them.

2. The stick figure directs me back through the children's section and then back through the men's section to the unisex fitting room. In front of the unisex fitting room is blond-skater-boy who really needs a haircut.

3. I try on said pants while listening to skaterboy direct people in and out of the fitting rooms. The whole unisex thing really bothers me. The doors don't seem all that sturdy, and the whole experience just doesn't FEEL private.

4. The pants have this weird strech to them and fit tightly from about the mid-thigh up (the legs had a nice drape though). I look like an overstuffed sausage. So, basically the whole experience comes down to, "Just becuase they make it in your size, doesn't mean you should wear it."

5. I also tried on one of those cute little spagetti strap t-shirts with the built in "bras." Um, yeah, right. Apparently it was more than my ass that got bigger because I could wear those things once.

6. On closer inspection after getting out of the dressing room, all the pants on the sales floor seem to be made of the same strechy half-spandex fabric.

Conclusion: Old Navy is definitely going to be a waist up store for me. I found some very cute little sleeveless t-shirts for not much money.

Catching Up

2006-01-28T16:26:00.000-06:00

So, it's been awhile since I've posted. Here's a quick update:

We are now the proud owners of a 2000 Impala. Unfortunately, Christine the Sable is no more. B. was driving downtown to pick me up from work and she caught fire. Fortunately, he was only a few blocks from the fire station, so it was out quickly. Fortunate because he wasn't hurt, although somewhat unforunate because there was not enough fire damage to collect an insurance claim.

And so enter Wendy, the white Impala. A family of four could live in the trunk.

In other somewhat sadder news, tragedy once again seems unable to leave my mother's side of the family alone. My cousin's teenage son was killed last week when he was shot by a friend who was playing with a loaded gun. Given the sketchy details my mother relayed to me, it MIGHT have been an accident, they're not entirely sure. I wasn't able to make home for the funeral because my work schedule didn't allow it.Your prayers and good thoughts for the family are greatly appreciated.

Randsom Observations

2005-11-03T21:00:00.000-06:00

Random Observation No. 1
The further away from rush hour, the more surreal the transit experience.

Okay, this may not be true for those of you who live in REAL cities with REAL public transportation. But, in my little midwestern city, it certainly is.
Case in point: Monday night I worked late, and walked to the main downtown transfer point at about 7:30. After 6:45, the buses come every hour at a quarter to the hour, so I had 15 minutes, but no big deal because it was a really lovely evening. Usually, there aren't many people that time of night, so I surprised to see a throng of kids standing under the shelter. I sat down and tried to pretend I wasn't paying attention to the conversation.
They all seemed to know each other and seemed to have come from some sort of rehab program. As I sat down, I heard, "Yeah, I'm gonna go home, kick back, watch some BET ... " (I looked over, the speaker was a skinny white girl)
Then the conversation switched to the new 50-cent movie. (Okay, so I don't know how he really spells his name and don't really care.)
In snippets of conversation, I learned that one young gentleman had nearly been kicked out of his rehab session for repeatedly using the word bitch - as in, "The bitch said if I said bitch one more time she was gonna kick me out. So, I stopped talkin'
"Bitch asked me why I wasn't participating and I said, 'Cause you said if I said a word one more time you was gonna kick me out. I can't talk without sayin', so I'm not gonna talk.'"
Charming.
Then the conversation turned into who was in a gang. One guy said he was, and another girl (this one in a puffy coat she didn't need and a bad bleach job) said, "There ain't no gangs here. You ain't in no gang."
To which he replied in a mush-mouth language that I couldn't quite understand. I picked out the words gang, full-on and gang-banger. I'm not sure what else was in there.
The conversation degenerated even more when the skinny chick declared that she could smell shit, and it was coming from someone in the group.
This went on for awhile, and suddenly out of no where, the bad bleach job pipes up with, "All I know is my momma better have some dishes done when I get home."
Somebody in the crowd asked, "You live wit you momma?"
"Nah," she answered. "She moved in with me. I told her she could stay for a month and then I'm kickin' her ass out 'cause I can't stand the bitch."
"I bought my momma a house when I was dealin'," the skinny chick volunteered.
And with that, blessedly, my bus came - and none of the crowd were heading my way.

Random Observation No. 2
I can't beleive it's November.
As I was waiting for the bus this morning, I watched the kids walk to the elementary school on the corner. Most of them weren't wearing coats. Many of them had short sleeves, and some of them were wearing shorts. SHORTS! IN NOVEMBER! It was 72 degrees today. It's the last gasp of autumn, and it makes me shudder to think how difficult the adjustment will be when it suddenly turns cold again.

Hmm, it seems when I started this I had another one. oh well, happy pseudo spring everyone!

Avoiding Work

2005-10-30T21:00:00.000-06:00

It's amazing what you can find to do before curling up with an ibook (company provided) and getting friendly with InDesign for the evening.

Before I can even start designing pages however, I have to listen to the audio of a small town candidates forum. Wohooooo. So, here I am posting. This is likely to be a series of random thoughts, so just bear with me.

And in the midst of all this, I'll probably have to get up and down a million to answer the door and give candy to the little beggars in costume. "But, kitten," you say, "today's only the 30th. Halloween isn't until tomorrow night."

This, my friends, is true. IF you're living somewhere normal. But no, this town has what they call Beggars' Night, in which children canvas the neighborhoods for candy the night BEFORE Halloween. Not only that, they don't say "trick-or-treat" when they come to the door. No, it's tradition that they tell a joke, or do a dance, or sing a little song. The idea being that have to perform a "trick" to get their candy. It's so, unnatural.

Apparently, it's been going on for more than 50 years. This crazy woman decided the vandalism from Halloween was getting out of hand, and thought up the whole scheme to keep kids off the streets Halloween night. Like, I said, it's so .... unnatural.

***

I stopped by the grocery store on my way home from church, and the woman behind me in line was buying a home pregnancy test - her only item. Somebody may have a scary Halloween.

***

After recently reading Wicked, the husband picked up the soundtrack of the Broadway show for me. Totally hooked!

I think "I'm Not That Girl" is probably my favorite number. Likely because I relate so well. I was always the buddy, the pal, the friend, the little sister type - rarely that girl. 'Course, in the end, I found that boy. It's a pity Elphaba didn't. If she had, I suppose there wouldn't be a story.

Well, I should be going. I really don't want to work tonight .....

If everybody else was jumping off a bridge ....

2005-10-26T20:37:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I've been looking a few people's blogs on a fairly regular basis, and I figure it's about time I do it too. You, know the old, "everybody else is doing it," kinda pressure.

So, I here I go. If nothing else, those of you who complain I never call or write can I have one more thing to complain I don't do. Or maybe I'll actually be prolific or something, and you'll at least know I'm alive.We'll see. As November approaches in the frozen wastelands of the upper Midwest and the price of natural gas climbs ever higher, I might be frozen to my desk chair before the end of the year.

Okay, okay, it's really that cold, and we haven't even had a good hard frost yet, but I do hate the cold. And that riding the bus thing I was oh so excited about in September, is truly going to SUCK! But it beats paying $7 a day for parking.

I'm not entirely sure what to say, but I don't think I did badly for my post.