two weeks

And now, somehow, it's been two weeks. Our days have been blurring together in one long loop of eating, sleeping, contending with dirty diapers, and hosting friendly visitors.

We've made it out of the house a few times.  M has visited my favorite bookstore and our neighborhood library.  She's also logged several hours as a Metro bus passenger and attended her first Memorial Day pancake breakfast at the neighbors' house.  Granted, she's managed to sleep through all of these milestones, but still.

Now that my man is easing his way back into a regular work schedule, M and I are spending a lot of time on our own. As a result, I've had to change a few of my habits.  For instance, I've given up almost every activity that requires the use of two hands. Unfortunately, typing falls into this category, which might help explain my extended absences from the blogosphere.  

I'm also spending an incredible amount of my day sitting on our couch.  While none of this should be surprising to anyone, I'm still having a hard time being so--inert.  It is not my natural state, and I spend significant portions of my day waiting for my partner in crime to get home, so that someone else can sit on the couch and hold a baby.

Having said all that, though, I can't help feeling that being stuck on a couch holding this baby for hours on end may be one of the best things that ever happens to me...

one week

Yes, it's true.  There is a baby at our house.  She arrived quickly and gracefully on a sunshiny morning, the day after Mothers Day.

In spite of her high-pitched wail and general failure to accept responsibility for her own actions, we have decided to keep her.  She makes us smile and laugh and cry.  She makes our world so much bigger and so much smaller at the same time.  Also, we cannot stop looking at her.

And she is already seven days old.  She has a whole week of living under her belt.  It's hard to believe.  She has habits and hiccups and a beautiful name that we hope she'll grow into someday--although for our purposes here, we'll just call her M.

I was going to bake something to celebrate her first week.  Like cupcakes.  But then I remembered that babies can't have cupcakes, which means that I would have to eat her cupcake for her.  That just seemed like too slippery a slope to descend this early in the game.

So we'll probably do something else to mark the occasion.  Like maybe give her a bath.  Or trim her incredibly long fingernails.  Or just sit around on the couch staring at her some more.  Because we've gotten very good at doing that.

Of course, I have lots more to say.  I want to tell you about the day she was born and all of our exciting firsts and what it's like to be at home alone right now with a tiny baby that allegedly belongs to me.  I'll save all of that for another time, though.

Today we're too busy doing nothing.

hooray for babies

I know, I know.  It's been pretty quiet on the blog front for the past few weeks.  Would you believe me if I said I've been kind of busy?  I'm starting to get this unshakable feeling that time is getting away from me.  There's still a long list of things I'd planned to get accomplished before baby makes a break for it.  Sewing projects, cleaning projects, list-making...

In the midst of all this, though, we've been taking time to celebrate.  Because they might be a lot of work, but gosh darn it, babies are exciting.

The lovely ladies on my man's side of the family gathered a few weeks ago to revel in all things baby.  My dear mother- and sister-in-law put together a sweet, sweet shower with tasty snacks, adorable handmade details, and plenty of laughter and advice.  Oh, and cupcakes.  This sort of thing requires cupcakes, I think.

And lots of good company.

Last week, we invited another, tinier handful of people over for a different kind of party.  For one thing, there were--gasp!--men.  And beer. There was also less advice and more good-natured teasing.  The event was billed as "what might be our last scheduled social event for the foreseeable future."  It remains to be seen whether or not that will prove to be true, but if it is, I wouldn't want to go out any other way.

There were more cupcakes, of course.  Not handmade this time, sadly, but still pretty dang good.  We snacked and screened one of my favorite documentaries ever.  My intrepid friend Sarah K organized an amazing onesie-decorating project that resulted in some one-of-a-kind fashion statements that our little one will soon be rocking.

They were two very different celebrations, but both of these little shandies left me with the same warm, looked-after feeling.  I love knowing that our tiny new person will be coming into a world of people that will cherish, celebrate, and support.  And, yes, it feels good knowing that those same folks are there to take care of us, too.

For anyone keeping track, the majority of you voting in the last poll advised us that the most important pre-baby activity for us to indulge in while there's still time is Sleeping In.  I'll admit, it's not something that I'm especially good at, but rest assured, my partner-in-crime is taking full advantage of these last opportunities...

escape

So I didn't post anything last week.  In my previous blogger life, I thought the world would end if I missed a week.  Readers would take to the streets in angry protest.  I would lose all my momentum and be unable to pick up where I left off.  If I missed one post, I might never ever blog again.  

It's safe to say that my position on this may have mellowed a little bit.  For one thing, I'm trying to get in the habit of not stressing over things that are a) unimportant or b) utterly out of my control.  I haven't mastered it yet, but I think this might be a useful thing to have in my skill set in a few short weeks...

Besides all that, last week was just plain busy.  I worked some extra hours.  There was a last minute doctor's appointment to address the fact that my feet had suddenly become the size of dachshunds.  (The verdict: typical pregnant lady swollen feet.  Go figure.)  We took a quick tour of the birthing center where we're planning to have this little muffin next month.

And we went for a long, long walk.

On a day that started out sunny, I woke up wanting to be outside.  Really, I wanted to go on a three-day camping trip somewhere on the coast, but that didn't seem to be in the cards. And I don't know how well I'd do these days, lying on the ground with a sleeping bag.  So instead, we took a mini-field trip to Discovery Park.

It was nice.  The sky threatened rain that never fell.  The trails were mostly empty.  When we did run into other people, they would smile at us and give my belly a knowing look.  We stopped to rest about twenty times on our trip down to the water, mostly discussing whether it was a good idea to walk all the way down, knowing that we'd then have to walk all the way back up.  We're no quitters, though, and we did eventually make it to the shore.

The trip back up was rougher.  I had to stop to sit down about every half a minute and we didn't make very good time at all, at least for the first stretch.  Then things leveled out a bit and I managed to get enough air in my lungs to actually look around and enjoy the scenery.

Definitely an afternoon well spent.  Hopefully, we'll manage to cram in a few more like it in the next few weeks.  If not, there's always time after the baby comes.  I told my man we should walk this trail again in about three months and that he should be the one to carry the baby next time.  He seemed a little dubious about the idea.  Actually, his exact response was "No."

I'm pretty confident, though, in my ability to change his mind.  Besides, by then, it will be two against one...

And, oh my gosh, thanks to you all for your baby-naming ideas last week.  Crowdsourcing is always a fun way to brainstorm.  I think we're still stuck on the short list that we started with, but who knows, maybe one of your brilliant ideas will crop up in the end.  Apparently, we have several days to stick a name on the birth certificate, so things really could get down to the wire...


If you're wondering about last week's poll results, an overwhelming majority of you agreed that the biggest baby naming faux pas is giving your child a name that's hard to spell or pronounce.  Which, I'm sad to say, might mean that Aloysius and Siobhan are out of the running.

serious business

Okay, okay.  Joking about baby names is one of my favorite things to do right now, but I should have known better than to indulge in the practice in last week's post.  To the handful of you who were either appalled or delighted by our Joy of Cooking-inspired frontrunners, I apologize and officially retract said name ideas. (Sorry, Tim.  I know you were really attached to "Poach.")

People take this baby naming business very seriously.  I don't blame them.  Names are important.  I've spent the last thirty-some years convinced that I had the wrong name, and while it's too late for me, there's still time to make sure that our baby-to-be has the right one.

Lest you worry about our qualifications, let me assure you that my man and I have been amateur name critics for years.  We're apparently incapable of watching movie credits without reading half the names out loud, deeming them good or bad or just absolutely outrageous.  We know what we like.  And what we definitely don't.  Fortunately, we usually agree.

At one point, I suggested that we start a naming service.  We're both somewhat underemployed right now, and I thought this might be just the sort of niche we've been looking for.  It would allow us to be creative, to work for ourselves.  And we are very good at coming up with names.  Boy names.  Girl names.  Cat names.  We have more names that we could ever possibly use ourselves.  (Case in point: our dwarf hamster has at least three different names.)

Somewhere around the five or six month mark of this pregnancy, I toyed with the idea of bringing home some baby name books, but I never followed through.  Then I spent about two days obsessed with a website called Nymbler, which takes a list of names that you like and offers a giant pile of other names allegedly inspired by your original list.  This kept me occupied for a brief window of time, until my computer stopped loading the website properly. (Word of advice: Don't spend two days compiling a giant list of "maybe" baby names on a website unless you're sure you won't be upset by the prospect of abruptly and permanently losing access to said list.)

So now we've gone old-school, with a little notebook full of names and tiny scraps of paper that I've written things down on so I wouldn't forget them later.  We've spent a fair amount of time discussing our options.  Honestly, though, I don't think we're any closer to a short list now than we were when we started.

Here are the criteria:

1. No "L" names.  Unless we suddenly decide otherwise, baby's last name will start with an L, and I just don't like alliteration that much.

2. No "J" names.  Unfortunately, there are already way too many J's on my man's side of the family, and while I might be able to tolerate just one more, my partner-in-crime has made his feelings clear on this.

3. No flower names for girls.  Or, presumably, for boys.  Again, this isn't my rule.  I like names like Violet and Daisy.  Not enough to really fight for the right to use them, though, I guess...

4. No "hipster" names.  Granted, this one is wide open to interpretation.  For a taste of what we're up against, trying Googling "hipster baby names."  Atticus and Clementine are definitely out.  While my man came up with the "hipster name" rule, I would at least say that I'd rather not have our child share a name with four or five kindergarten classmates.  If it's incredibly popular, we're probably not interested.

5. No creative spellings and no "invented" names.  This one is my rule.  Everyone has to make their own decision about things like this, but this is where I stand.  I'm an English major.  Sue me.

So that's what we're up against.  That and a deadline of, oh, let's say fifty days.  I'm pretty sure we'll eventually work something out, but I wouldn't be surprised if it ends up being an incredibly last-minute decision.

So here's your chance, people.  While I'm not quite ready to put the matter up for a popular vote, I definitely think we could use some public feedback.  Any names we should--or shouldn't--consider?  Other tips or suggestions?  By all means, comment below!

(Speaking of votes, the winner of "Most Useless Piece of Baby Gear" in last week's poll? The wipes warmer, of course, by a landslide.  Thank you, poll participants!  Rest assured, we will not be investing in said warmer.)

stocking up

Storing piles of miscellany on every flat surface in sight isn't a new thing for me.  Don't believe me?  Ask my partner-in-crime.  In the past few months, though, the stacks of magazines, knitting patterns, and books-to-be-read have been replaced--or at least crowded--by mounds of baby stuff.  There are cloth diapers stacked on the craft table, folded onesies and a pre-loved Baby Bjorn sitting on top of the dresser.  It's pretty messy, I'll admit.

The thing is, the mess makes me feel better.  When I look around at all the clutter, I see tangible proof that we're preparing for this tiny person's arrival.  There are lots of big, scary things that are completely out of my control right now, but piles of stuff?  That I can accomplish.  It's incredibly reassuring.

So I like that I can't use the top shelf of my closet because of the hand-me-down car seat I've crammed there.  And I don't know how long I'll really enjoy looking at the giant cardboard box in the corner of our living room, but for now, I'm happy knowing that there's a brand-new crib* waiting inside.

Now, sooner or later, all this stuff is going to start to get to me.  It may shock my man to hear that even I have a breaking point.  I'm kind of counting on that late-third-trimester nesting instinct that all the books talk about to power me through a last-minute cleaning spree.

But not yet.

*More on that mini-dilemma some other time...

For anyone keeping track, The Joy of Cooking won out as Best Reference Volume for Baby Names.  With that in mind, we are seriously considering Croquette for a girl and Poach for a boy.  (I really like Aspic, too, but it just sounds so--I don't know--dated...)

on the needles

Firstly, thank you all for the lovely reception last week.  After almost a full year away from the blogging world, it's been harder than I'd imagined to get up the nerve to dive back into things.  Thanks for your sweet words and for your excitement about the little one.

My excitement--which might be more accurately described as a mix of anticipation and anxiety--has mostly been manifesting itself as an overwhelming desire to do.  I have lists and piles and plans.  Multiple schedules and calendars.  (If this makes me sound incredibly organized, my partner-in-crime would be happy to set that record straight for you...)

While all the scrambling to stay on top of things can start to feel overwhelming, making gives me an incredible sense of accomplishment.  First, it tends to be cheaper than buying all the darling little handmades I see on the Internet.  I'm also not too shortsighted to appreciate the fact that I have more free time--and free hands--now than I will again for the next decade or so.  I'm relishing it, I promise you.

I have at least five different projects going right now.  To be honest, some of them are coming along faster than others.  My knitting skills, for instance, will always outpace my--very recently acquired--sewing abilities.

The truth is, I've been knitting for a baby--not this baby, but a baby--for years now.  More on that, maybe, some other time.  For the past few months, though, it's been wonderful being able to knit for someone in particular.  A summer baby, who probably won't need any big, chunky ski sweaters in newborn sizes but will no doubt require some protection from the unpredictable, sometimes chilly, Seattle climes.

I'm a big believer in baby leg warmers.  My diaper-changing skills might be a little rusty, but I'm pretty sure I'd much rather stick the kid in a onesie and some leg warmers than wrestle tiny legs into tiny pairs of pants every hour and a half.  I used this free pattern and some leftover Debbie Bliss Baby Cashmerino for this pair.  Quick and easy enough that I started a second set right after finishing the first...

Most of my knitting hours, though, have been logged on a much bigger project, The Purl Bee's Super Easy Baby Blanket.  It really has been super easy, great for zoning out on long bus rides or in front of the television.  The hardest part, choosing the colors, got a lot simpler when I put my man in charge of making the decisions.  Now, 800 some yards of Cascade Yarns 220 Superwash later, I'm still not finished, but the end is in sight.  I don't have a final result to share just yet, but here's a sneak peek at the palette:

I still have two more months of knitting time left, assuming my fingers don't balloon into sausages in the last weeks.  I haven't decided which project to tackle next.  I'm looking for practical--tiny, intricate booties are out--and straight-forward--I don't seem to have a whole lot of brainpower to spare at this point.  Any suggestions for handknits that no self-respecting tiny person can live without?  Let me know...

Speaking of feedback, while voter turnout at the polls was slightly lower than expected, 60% of you dear readers are predicting that the bun in my oven is--gasp!--a girl.  (For what it's worth, that's been my guess all along, too...)