Yarn Along 5

This week I actually started two projects - from total non-knittyness to two seems like a gigantic step for me, but that's probably just my head talking.  

The first is a second one of these.  No not the baby.  Well okay, yes the baby.  I am in the process of making a second one of those - hopefully just as cute and giggly as the first.  But what I meant was this week I started making a second bunny.  For the second baby.  I might make some hats for them too...or bows...just so each kid has their own special rabbit.  What super adorable about this is Emily hasn't really played with the rabbit I made her in awhile, but when I pulled out the big skein of boucle yarn at knit night this week she insisted on cuddling with it.  I think that's the sign of some good baby yarn - it's cuddly even before it is anything.

My second project is this.  It's a crocheted evening shawl.  Looks like it doesn't it?  Actually this yarn used to be a different crocheted evening shawl, but when I went back to work on it I had forgotten the pattern and hadn't written it down anywhere.  So I frogged the whole thing and started anew with a new pattern.  I bought a TON of magazines when Borders closed.  Anything that looks remotely pretty I bought.  They were 90% off - you would splurge too.  So I went through my stash of patterns and picked the River Walk from Interweave Crochet.  It's pretty enough.  I think it will do nicely for a vanity project.  

Also at the close of Borders I bought books I always sorta wanted to read, but not enough to actually actively go out and get it at the store or library.  Sarah Vowell had those books.  "Assassination Vacation" was the only one they had at the sale so it's the one I got.  Honestly, it's not that great.  It's quirky and witty and there are some interesting tidbits of information I pick up on, but it feels a little like being forced to see photos of someone else's vacation.  It's a travel log.  But it's not about the place, it's about the opinion of the author of something that happened at that place.  I'm less than hooked 88 pages in.  

However, it's my bath book.  Does anyone else do this?  When Emily takes a bath we splash and play for a little while.  I somehow convince her to wash her hair and get clean, then she is no longer interested in playing with me and just wants to swim around on her own.  So I sit back against the wall next to the tub and read a book.  Usually not anything enthralling, I have one eye on the swimming toddler, but I read.  It's about the only time I do.  Does this make me a bad mother - oh probably.  Whatever.  At least I made her a bunny from scratch.

Make up your mind

Obviously it's been awhile since I blogged.  It's even been awhile since I read my blogger friends posts.  But that's the internet so it's common to just disappear for awhile right?

What's more troubling is that I've somehow managed to just disappear from actual life too.  I've spent most of my time locked in the house.  I might be cleaning.  Most of the time I'm crying about the fact that I am not cleaning.  And then I don't clean some more.  Whole hours pass by and I can't tell you what I've been up too.  Emily has been plenty busy, you can tell by the damage she's left behind, but I've been not.  Not busy.  Not doing.  Plenty damaged.

Part of this is because I had a really bad case of pharyngitis that came around Christmas and didn't start getting better till a week or so ago.  Being really, really sick and in the first trimester of pregnancy allowed me just enough energy to make it downstairs, feed the kid, and then lie on the couch (and cry about how I wasn't cleaning).  I was keeping first Emily, then myself, in quarantine so we didn't give these germs to anyone else.  Staying home wasn't that bad.  But after months of self-containment I feel like I've gone past the "awww, I'm lonely" phase to the "awww, I don't want to see anyone."  In other words the depression is back.

I expected a little of this.  I was only just pulling out of the major awful that was PPD when I got pregnant.  Things were looking up of course and I was seeing an end.  Then pregnancy happened and that slow and steady progression went into hyperdrive.  All those new hormones that I wasn't making as a nursing mother suddenly hit me and I was no longer depressed at all.  A change this quick can't last.  I know it.  I just didn't know how long it would stick around.

Apparently just until the placenta has been made.

It sucks.  It sucks hard.  Any other person who hadn't been recovering from PPD when they got pregnant would probably feel the drop in hormones and mood at around the 13th week.  They might suddenly go "Hey, I have energy now!  But I sorta don't feel that happy."  I instead feel an overwhelming guilt that now I do, in fact, have energy to get up, but I hate it.  I have the energy now to get out to knitting, or call my friends.  But I can't step out the door.  I have the energy to go to the swimming pool and splash with Emily.  But I can't bring myself to put on a swimsuit.  I have the energy to cook now.  But I can't eat the food I cooked.  I have the energy to finally find some awesome books to read or art to do.  But I can't make my mind concentrate on it.

My mind isn't just sorta depressed or sorta tired, my mind is junk.  It's confused and depressed and happy and currently hiding in some brain cave in order to stay far away from the depression that's ready to eat it.

It's also keeping me from writing coherent blog posts or...simple emails.  Because I can't make up my mind if I'm depressed, about to be depressed, pregnant, or actually happy and I just don't know what happy looks like anymore.

Weight

The other day I went to my normal doctor to see if he couldn't help me with this cold I've had for awhile.  I haven't been there for a long time so they didn't know I was 13 weeks pregnant when I first came in.

The first they did was of course weigh me.  I stepped up and we looked at the scale:  125.2 lbs.  The nurse looked and chirped happily "Oh good for you!  You lost six pounds!"

Again, I hadn't told her I was pregnant yet.  She didn't know that I have been worrying about losing weight for the past three months.  She didn't say this as a disparaging remark and had no reason to think it would hurt my feelings.  In fact, she was trying to be super nice and encouraging, because what woman doesn't want to be thinner - right?

Actually, 125 is low for me.  Unhealthily low.  At 130 (my normal when I'm depressed/recovering from depression) I look like a zombie.  My face loses all fat and sinks in.  The circles under my eyes are more prominent.  My hips and butt verge on boyish.  At 125 even my breasts (which used to be ample) are gone.  I look like a sad, sad, old woman.  Six pounds isn't anything to celebrate.  However, isn't it always the way that weight loss is celebrated - no matter the situation.  I'm reminded of a joke by Kathy Griffin that when she found out her sister had cancer she was jealous that she was going to be so skinny.

I feel like this is a mostly female thing.  I don't think that men go to the doctor and get a cheer squad on the scale.  Honestly, do they even get a comment either way?  When I was pregnant with Emily I gained one pound in a week.  The nurse, without any prompting, patted me on the shoulder and said "Don't worry, that's probably all baby weight gain."  Would anyone think to try and reassure a man over a single pound?

Even my daughter is stuck on it.  She was a super chubby baby.  Nurses would comment and say that she was a very pretty baby (she so is) but so fat.  The problem there is the "but," as if that keeps her from being as pretty as she could be.  And she wasn't even a year old yet!

I don't know when we thought that weight was suddenly the topic that was allowed to be discussed openly and without tact.  I think maybe we should go back to discussing it like we discuss laundry:  we don't.  Not unless you're helping to do it!

Spread it around

On New Year's Eve I took Emily to the Hawaii Children's Discovery Center for their "Countdown to Noon" Balloon Drop.  We had a great time playing there, we always do.  The Balloon Drop was less than exciting, mostly because I had to pull Emily out from the big drop because parents kept stepping on her.  Let me repeat that:  Parents kept pushing her around and stepping on her.  The kids were very careful around all the smaller babies.

I try to take Emily to the Discovery Center often.  It's fun and she can touch and play with whatever she wants.  However, I do try to avoid it when it's super busy because things can get a little rowdy.  The exceptions are holidays like Halloween and New Year's.  Also, every time we've gone to the Center when it was full Emily and I have both caught some awful cold.  We get away germ free when it's not full.

So of course since I took her when it was packed we are now both fighting a particularly icky cold.  This not only means we both feel terrible, we don't get to go do anything.  We don't get to do anything because when my kid is a mess of germ infested snot I try to keep her away from kids who are not covered in germ infested snot.  Call me crazy, but I just think it's good manners.

Of course now that I am sick, hot, tired, and really, really, crabby I have this great desire to find the parents who took their sick kid to the Discovery Center at New Years and pass this little snot-bug back to them.  In my most vindictive I fantasize that it has already mutated and those parents will be blessed with at least a whole week of grouchy, unhappy kids and a hacking cough that keeps them out of school and bored with daytime television.  Ha-ha-ha--achoo.

But I won't.  Because I don't want to get people sick.  Well not the nice people anyway.

Sleep

The other day my husband asked me "If you had a super power, which one would you want?" and I answered "To get by without needing sleep."

Because for the past few weeks I've had to get by without any sleep.  Emily went through a phase where she would sleep for 20 minutes to an hour before she'd wake up and cry.  Not fuss, not whine, she'd cry.  And it took a lot to settle her down.  For naps in the day she'd go down for about half and hour, then it was go-go-go time again.  She fell asleep in the car on the way back from Costco and I literally thought of pulling over and napping in the car with her.

Of course I initially blame this strange phase on teeth.  Because that is the big cosmic joke isn't it?  You're a baby, you have to grow tall, learn to walk, talk, eat, and ask for help in pretty much everything you do.  Also - you have to do it all while in terrible, irritating, pain.  Then when all the teeth come in and you're finally finished - they fall out and you have to do it all over again.  Welcome to the world.

Despite my tooth-theory Emily has finally gone back to sleeping longer (2-3 1/2 hours at a time) and she still has the same amount of teeth she had before.  But the dark circles under her eyes are gone and I feel more sane.  So maybe they were invisible teeth.

It's amazing how much those extra hours have helped with my relationship with my daughter and my unborn baby.  When sleep deprived I did not want to have another baby and I did not want to play with my current baby.  Emily was bored.  I was tired.  Life generally sucked for both of us.  Now with some sleep I've noticed the milestones Emily made while not sleeping.  She likes to point at pictures in books now.  She has finally figured out the shapes and holes bucket (previously she'd try, then take the lid off and put them in the bucket that way).  Her new favorite food are clementines and she calls them "Mama."  Generally, she's an amazing child.  I had no idea because I was too tired.

Also, while I wasn't sleeping my other baby grew arms and legs and when you look at it through an ultrasound you can see its little head being...headlike.  When I stare at the picture now I see how amazing it is that these kids can grow so much in such little time.  Which is a huge improvement from a week ago when all I could see was how annoying it was that they can get by on such little sleep.

Hau'oli Makahiki Hou!

I stopped making the typical resolutions a few years ago.  Honestly, why start the year off feeling bad because after the holidays I am simply too tired to start a big new regimen of stuff.  Besides, despite all the depression and insecurity, I actually like myself the way I am.  So there.

Instead the new year is a great time to resolve to do things I want to do.  So here is what I'd like to work on this year:

Learning to knit Continental style (I've always been an English knitter, I know how to do it the other way, I just need to perfect it)
Sew more
Sing more
Make more yummy salads for dinner
Sleep one full, complete night, all the way through (this is really a resolution for Emily)

That's it.  Happy New Year!

Lonely

For Christmas Emily and I flew over to Maui to spend time with my parents.  I had a wonderful time being back home and we did great things like visiting my favorite goat farm, walking along the beach, eating amazing food, shopping.  However, the best part of the trip was the company.

It seems strange that in a job like motherhood-at-home where you are literally never apart from your child you could feel so lonely.  In the past 16 months there have been very few times when I've actually been alone.  Maybe a quick trip to the store here and there, or a short nap.  When I'm lucky I get to shower alone.  Lately, I've even been able to close the door for a moment while I go to the bathroom and boy is that a luxury!  But despite being in constant company of my most favorite person in the whole world I am pretty lonely.

In Maui, when Emily and I got out of bed, my parents were there to share breakfast with and generally chat.  For Christmas, after the hustle of present opening, we spent the day simply napping and resting together.  Not a lot of talk or purpose.  Just being together with my mom and my baby, enjoying Hawaii.

After I got home I went back to routine.  Emily and I snuck out of bed, careful not to wake up D since he is on a different sleep/work schedule than Emily.  We spent the morning playing and having a leisurely breakfast.  D got up later and played with us.  Then we went to bed early and D joined us later. It was a special day since D didn't have to go to work, on work days he gets up either later than us or much earlier and we either wake up without him or see him off right before we're planning the afternoon nap.  All times between this are me and Emily hanging out.  Sometimes we have playdates or excursions.  I have clubs and meetings I drag her along too.  However, primarily it's just us girls and for some reason I feel super lonely at these times.

It's not because Emily can't talk yet.  She babbles, but I don't really need the conversation.  I didn't have a lot of it with my mom.  What I think I need is more quiet company of people who understand me.  Often I hear young girls and mothers say that it's great to have a person who will love them no matter what.  I don't get that with Emily.  She loves me, that's clear.  I love her too - no matter what.  But when we spend time together I don't feel she knows me and thinks I'm grand because I am who I am.  She thinks I'm grand because I take care of her, feed her, clean her, hug her, work hard to make sure she's comfortable and happy.  She also thinks I'm a pain the neck because I do all these things.  I'm there for her and that's the way it should be, but it sure is a lonely job.

I fluctuate between desperately needing space - a time to be an adult without Emily or D expecting me to be Mom and Wife to needing no space at all and needing lots of people around me.  It's like being on my own island.  Water everywhere, not a drop to drink.