Happy Birthday, Peanut!

One year ago, at this very time, my midwife was in my home, confirming that I was in labour, that yes, my membranes had certainly ruptured, and I was most certainly having our baby that very day.

One year.









How can it be, my darling girl, that it has been a year? Wasn't I carrying you within me, next to my beating heart, only last week? Didn't I only breathe you into this world on a wave of compulsion and agony and ecstasy only yesterday? Did my ears not just ring at the sound of your first cry, before you were even fully born, only moments ago?

I remember so clearly holding you to me, as you first nursed, and you wrapped your tiny, hour-old arm around my side, gently brushing my skin with your tiny fingers,discovering your new world, your new mother, this new love. I will cherish and remember that moment, that sensation, for the rest of my life. So tender and precious, so new and foreign. So mine.

Twelve months of growing and trial and wonder and learning and amazement as you've grown to be your very own little person. You have thoughts, likes and dislikes, you play games and have a sense of humour, and are one of the sunniest, most darling children I have ever met.

There are days when I wish I could stop the passage of time so that I can just keep you as you are today, so small and cuddly and full of discovery and others when I wish I could go back to when you were so tiny, when things were so difficult, and appreciate you even more, hug you even closer, and know with surety that everything would turn out well.



You are astonishing, dear child, and as great a gift as any could be.

Happy birthday.

Two days, or, Spring!

The weather this week has been exceptional. Warm, but not too hot; sunny, but with a soft breeze, and with grass and leaves and tulips springing up all around. Peanut and I have taken the opportunity to be out enjoying the season.

On Monday, we did a certain amount of 'playing tourist' in this capital city in which we make our home. We wandered up past Parliament Hill, and discovered that it was Music Monday, a day on which school children across the country hold small concerts. A large choir was singing on the steps in front of Centre Block. We listened to the end of their singing, then walked on, across the grass of the lawn, past university students enjoying a post-exam laze-about, and some kids playing ultimate frisbee. This happens on the lawn all the time. It's a truly public space, right amidst the workings of our government, and Ottawans make use of it. I'm not sure that's something you would see in most capitals. There's even noon-hour yoga on the lawn during the summer. I'm sure Peanut and I will have pictures of us participating to share once that starts up.



We walked down Sussex, where the high-end shops in Ottawa are located, and up to Major's Hill Park, hoping to see some tulips. This week marks our annual Tulip Festival, a tradition dating back to 1953, and one which is of particular importance to our church congregation, as it was our church that the Dutch Royal Family attended while in exile in Canada. Princess Margriet was baptised at our font, the same font where Peanut was baptised last August.

Unfortunately, there weren't as many tulips at that park as I'd hoped, but we did spend some time in the grass.









Today was another lovely day, so we walked for hours again. This time we headed south from our house. First we hit the natural supply store for some baby-friendly sunblock (Peanut was a bit ruddy when we got home yesterday; she's inherited my exceedingly fair skin, so it needs protecting!) and then stopped off at a coffeehouse for a sandwich. Peanut entertained everyone who walked by, grinning at them from her armchair.



Onward south we walked, through the Glebe, past Lansdowne Park and over the canal. We walked through Sunnyside, stopping in little baby and child shops and consignment shops, and generally just wandering. We found a pet food shop which sells the brand of food we like for Wembley (it's harder to find than, say, something like Purina) and checked out the new Milkface location. Britt was in, so we got to say hello to her, and she got to exclaim over Peanut and how sweet she looked wrapped up in our babywearing wrap, Ulli.

Then back towards home. As we crossed the bridge over the Canal, I noticed how beautiful it all was: the grass and trees against the water, and all right in the middle of the city. And I thought, why would I ever want to leave? Some days, my heart fairly aches with love for this city, with all its grass and trees and water and arts and music and festivals and old churches and politics and activism and history.

Little changes, or, Still alright?

I've been playing with the CSS for the blog. If it looks wonky, let me know, ok?

A whole month? or, Actual knitting has happened!

Yes, I've actually started and completed an entire garment. Huzzah!

Of course, that garment is a little baby-sized sweater, done top-down and entirely seamless, but hey, it's an accomplishment!

I've also discovered that trying to get photos of a sweater while on a baby who is rapidly morphing into a toddler is rather challenging. She won't sit still anymore!

Pattern: My own
Yarn: Lion Brand Cotton-Ease in Lime
Size: 11mo Peanut
Mods: none. The beauty of drafting your own pattern!
Comments: The neckline ended up way big, and the body isn't as long or as loose as I had planned (this is what happens when one 'eyeballs' a knitting pattern). I was hoping it would hit about mid-thigh, rather than just below the hip and that the body would have more of a trapeze shape to it. I plan to get some narrow ribbon and thread it through the first row of stitches to cinch in the neckline a bit. So, not a complete success, but a good first try!

Blocks, or, Post-feminist my ass

I recently saw some decoupaged wooden play blocks on a website and thought "Cool. I could do that." So I've been looking for unfinished wooden blocks, which is more than a little challenging, sadly. In the course of my search, I tried Toys 'R' Us, though I didn't really expect to find them there. I was right. I clicked "Blocks" at the left of the page, then "Building Blocks" of the options that presented, and found various blocks, but no plain wooden cubes. Then I noticed the various "Narrow by..." options at the left. One was gender. I clicked "Girl" just to see what would happen. Instead of three pages of different building blocks sets, creating all manner of different creatures and objects, I now saw only seven items, all packaged and marketed for infants and toddlers. Apparently, girls are only interested in blocks during their infancy: as soon as they are old enough to appreciate that they aren't actually boys, they want to play with dolls.

F*&king gender roles.

Three seasons, or, ten months

Ten months ago, Peanut joined us.

She's a little monster some days, but she's my little monster, and I can't imagine not having her here.

Polywog, or, partially frogged

Just over two years ed ago, the wonderful and venerable Bezzie started a little project known as KAYE: the Kootchie Awareness Yarn Extravaganza. As luck would have it, I happened to have my annual rootin' the very month she began this monthly drawing, and lo and behold, my name was drawn for that very first skein of yarn! Sadly, the yarn sat, untouched and unattended in my stash for quite some time. Fortunately, before I had chosen a destiny for that yarn, and before I had even balled up the hank of yarn, I discovered that the lovely sock yarn she had gifted me was, in fact, some of the notorious Mystical Creations yarn (Ravelry link). A little soak in a bowl of water, and the yarn bled Smurf blood, so I took my first adventure in dye setting armed with a plastic freezer bag, a large portion of vinegar and a microwave oven.

At last, the yarn was ready to be knit, and I decided that some brightly coloured baby legwarmers would be just the ticket. I got to knitting and...I didn't love them. I was nearly halfway done the first one, and I just didn't love what I was seeing. The fabric was lovely and soft, but the I just wasn't feeling the stripes. Thing is, I'm not partial to self-striping yarn most of the time, and these stripes just weren't doing it for me. Besides, Peanut already has two pairs of striped legwarmers: does she really need a third? Still, I pressed on, and decided to make the knees of the legs a little thicker, since the yarn is rather soft, and Peanut is extremely close to learning to crawl. I began a simple slip-stitch pattern on the knees and...



I adored the result! The yarn now, instead of striping, created a gently mottled fabric, not pooling, just delightfully flecked with colour and shade. The fabric was absolutely beautiful!

So I frogged it back to the ribbing and started again, knitting the leg entirely in the slip-stitch pattern. It's totally worth it. :)

Just because, or, The Funnest Game Ever

'Cause I think she's cute. And I have nothing fibre-y to show you.

Why not, or, Watching her world

Why not put your baby in the window?

Obsessed, or, 'Round and around and around...

I've been spending a lot of time on my feet, lately.

I finished this.



I'm busy working on this.



The spindle is currently sporting some Corriedale. I bought myself a total of 200 grams of roving, so I have loads of spinning ahead of me. It's pretty fabulous.

I've already warned The Man that I will need to get a spinning wheel someday. I don't see this obsession abating any time soon.

Nerdling, or, The Traveller

Did I ever mention that I'm a total nerd? Well, I am. Big-time. Like, there-are-maybe-five-episodes-of-Star-Trek:Next-Generation-I-haven't-seen kind of nerdy. I don't own memorabilia or shirts or go to conventions or anything, but I have watched a LOT of Star Trek.

Penny Karma's recent post inspired me to share with you the day I outed myself to anboyfriend.

I had just gotten to his place and he and his roommate were watched ST:NG (see, 21 yo boys don't need to pretend that they don't like ST:NG; they can be all open about it). And then-BF says to the roommate "That's The Traveller, right?" referring to an alien creature on the screen. Before I could think, I said "No, The Traveller is more human looking and greyer." Jaws hit the floor, and I was mortified at what I had just done.

Slowly, the boyfriend and roommate turned away from the screen to look at me as I stared shame-faced into my lap.

"You watch Star Trek??" they exclaimed.

Snack, or, Yum

Hummus on a rice cracker.

The food of the gods.

Done! or, Ugly but awesome

This is an incredibly satisfying sight.



Inconsistently spun, only somewhat evenly plied, with areas of over-twisted ply, broken plies, enormous slubs...it's practically unusable.

But it's mine!!

Because I've got nothing but time, or, Like I need something else to distract me

Let Operation Yarn Barf commence.

A little change, or, Where's the knitting?

As you may have noticed, I've made some little changes to the blog. I'm still not entirely sure about how I feel about it, but it's a start. Change is good, though.

I really wish I had more knitting content to show you, truly. There are things I want to knit but I'm lacking the necessary yarn or needles or both, so they haven't actually happened. Boo. Fortunately, the weather has warmed up, so a walk to the local yarn shop isn't going to result in frozen extremities or necessitate insane numbers of layers of clothing. It's quite pleasant, actually.

I have some posts cooking in my head, but they are unrelated to knitting, so I'm considering starting a second blog to deal with birth choice and other related posts. It would be good to muster all my doula-related thoughts in one place.

All in all, this is a pretty nothing little post, I'm afraid. Here's a gratuitously unnecessary baby picture to make the visit worthwhile:

Once more around the sun, or, Four

Four years ago, on a day which much nicer weather than today's rain - cool and gently snowy - we promised forever.



Happy anniversary, darling.

Slowly, or, What rush?

I was recently turned on to a blog, Vancouver Doula. It's well written, positive, informative, and generally fantastic; I became an instant fan. In her most recent two posts she has written about the 'slow' movement, and linked to SlowPlanet. In reading posts there, I thought about the speed of my life, and how it has changed dramatically with Peanut's arrival. Instead of rushing to work everyday, sitting stagnantly at my desk, rushing through tasks, constantly watching the clock, Peanut and I have our own rhythm to life. We aren't scheduled because I see no reason to impose a schedule on her when I, myself, don't thrive on one. We walk about the city as we have gotten rid of our car (have I mentioned lately how much I adore living downtown?) and we take our time doing...everything. Consider that phrase now: we take our time. Not someone else's, not some prescribed routine, just our time, whatever that is.

That's how I view her birth, actually. By some reckoning, she was "early", born at just under 36 weeks gestation. I often wonder what would have happened had I called my midwife the day before she was born, when I first thought my water was breaking. Would we have been sent to the hospital to have labour stopped artificially, to have steroids injected to try and plump up Peanut's lungs "just in case"? When, then, would she have been born? At 38 weeks? 39? 40? She was done, ready to come out and meet us, ready to cry out to the world that she was here, ready to be named, ready to be cuddled and kissed and adored from curly head to tiny foot. I can't imagine denying her her rightful birthday, the day she decided was best for her to be born. May 19 was her day, and she knew it; the rest of us were simply unaware. Our labour was timeless, as well. I didn't watch the clock, didn't time contractions, didn't think about how quickly or slowly things were progressing, just existed within the liminal space which is labour, where only the mother and baby can exist, knowing that some things cannot and must not be rushed or controlled, but simply be allowed to happen, simply allowed to be. So many things can benefit from slowness. Buying a loaf of bread may be easier and faster than baking my own, but it doesn't fill my home with the smell of yeast, the warm smell of baking bread, the sense of creating.

Slowness requires patience, requires trust in the gradual unfolding of things, and that, in itself, is challenging and work. There is a lesson to be learned in slowness.

New, or, Outward Words

Finally! We have a new machine and I am, once again, able to communicate with the world (ok, with the handful of people who are remotely interested in what I have to say)! While I adore staying home with Peanut, it can be rather cloistering at times, and blogging and message-boarding and facebooking definitely help to keep me connected with the outside during these long, cold days of winter when leaving the house is more of a pain than a pleasure.

The light in the afternoon, however, is often quite delightful at this time of year.

What do you think of the photos cropped using the Golden Ratio? It makes me feel all fancy and Renaissance-y!

As promised, or, Don't Spill!

I did a bad thing.

I spilled iced tea on the keyboard of our laptop, our only functional computer.

This post will be brief, as a result.





Pattern: Shalom Cardigan
Yarn: Eco Wool+ in navy
Needles: 6.5mm circ (maybe 30cm long?)
Mods: many, most notably that it is not a cardigan at all, but is a top-down tunic.

I really like it, though I feel like the neckline doesn't entirely suit me. I may yet knit on a cowl neck. Or just wear it with a big bohemian scarf. But the yarn is awesome! One giant skein to knit the whole tunic, with leftovers! The wool softened up beautifully when blocked, too.

*cough*, or, A Bit of This, A Bit of That, A Bit of Fail

You know what bites? Having a cold, and then having pink eye - along with your goopy-eyed daughter - and then having another cold and having that second cold be the cold. from. Hell. Seriously. I was so sick on January 2 that The Man had to stay home from work (also, he hadn't gotten much sleep since I was too sick to be in the same room with Peanut - my coughing would have kept her awake - and since she generally falls asleep while nursing, it made for a loooong night for The Man, trying to soothe a baby who just wanted a boob). It has been a wretched five days, and now The Man is sick, too, and had to stay home again today. Blegh.

What I don't understand is why I always lose my voice when I'm sick. It only started a few years ago - really, when my singing started to really pick up - but now, I end up mute every time I have a bad cold. It's quite frustrating. I now sound like I've been smoking non-stop for the past 20 years. It's interesting. I must be feeling better, though: I just drank a beer. Mmmm....

Due to my incredibly sicklyness, I have not taken pictures of the tunic I knit myself. I'm not taking pictures of myself looking this shabby and then posting them on the interweb. You can't make me!

::

New Year's Day was a second Christmas for us with my mum, sister and BIL, mum's BF and his son. It was quite delightful. Peanut now has more clothes than she has ever had before! My mum found an outlet store, and this being her first grandchild and the sale prices being quite cherry, went to town. I'm almost overwhelmed when I go to get her dressed: there's so much cuteness for her to wear, how will I choose? It's pretty fantastic, and I love that I don't have to think about buying her much of anything for the next bunch of months. Everybody wins.

I also forgot to mention an additional arrival Peanut received on Christmas Day: teeth! Mum - or Gran as she is known to Peanut - was holding her, and Peanut did her usual trick of grabbing an adult finger and pulling it into her mouth to gnaw on. Mum looked at me and said, "There's a tooth there!" The right incisor had just barely cut the gum - only just visible as a little white line - but it was definitely there. She must have cut it that day. The corners of the left incisor were starting to peek out a little, too. As of today, she has two small teeth, though they still aren't all the way out. Hurts like anything when she decides to rake them along a nipple when she's done feeding. Yikes!

And because I'm a total fail on the pictures of finished knit projects, and my last post was a downer and picture-less, here's a picture of Peanut from way back in the summer. Because I can, you know?

Thoughts, or, Waiting

I've been struck in the last 24 hours by the nature of pregnancy. I remember feeling - at times, and in some ways - very much alone in my state of pregnancy. But I wasn't, at least, not entirely. My husband was, in his own and rather different way, pregnant as well. He couldn't carry Peanut, couldn't feed her and grow her and build her, but he carried worry and concern and delight and joy and love - so much love - for her all the while I did the things he could not.

I remember when we got the erroneous results from our IPS - triple screen - test that we had a 50/50 chance of her having Down's, and how absolutely devastated he was, how we sat silently on the couch in the living room, Wembley looking at us confusedly because we were home in the middle of the day and were upset - she can always tell - and how, in a strange way, I was almost a little surprised by how upset he was; in all the nausea and ickiness of the first three months, I had failed to remember how deeply this pregnancy was his also. It wasn't intentional, just the result of having to turn internally in order to be strong and brave for the work of carrying our tiny person.

In retrospect, I don't think I gave my husband enough credit during our pregnancy. It wasn't that I didn't give him any, or thought ill of him - far from it! - but that, at the time, I simply could not see how deeply moved he was nor how important, nay essential, he was to my health and well-being, and came the time for Peanut's delivery, how imperative he was to my successful and pleasant labour and birth of her.

I've been thinking about it a lot, and can't begin to tell him how much I value him. I've been hugging Peanut close, kissing her round, smooth cheeks, delighting in her laughter, wonderous that everything worked perfectly to build her strong and hale and healthy. And wondering why, oh why, isn't everyone this fortunate.

And very, very thankful, that my brother-in-law is the man he is. I'm so glad my sister has him.

Ick again, or, New ick

Nasty cold - bad.
Baby conjunctivitis - bad.
Remembering that I can be a wimp and take ibuprofen for my sinus headache - good.

It's about the small blessings.

Ick, or, What to do

What do you do for dinner if you have a nasty, icky cold and haven't slept well in days because your dear seven month old is waking up every two hours to yell at you, and your husband has to be out all evening after a full day of work, and you have very little in the way of groceries in the house? Well, if you're me, and happen to have a twenty, you order some General Tso's and some fried rice.

Some day, this child will sleep well.
And on that day, we will rejoice.

Round-up, or, The Cute, The Not Bad, and The Unfortunate

Peanut's first Christmas was a lovely one, though rather rainy. We all three went to the late-night service on Christmas Eve; she made friends with the Todds in the pew behind The Man's family, and eventually fell peacefully to sleep in the wrap with The Man, a picture of contentment.

Christmas morning was fantastically fun!

Peanut's first gift; Done, NEXT!!

Helping Daddy open his gift; Opening her gift from Daddy


Action shot!! and Playing with her new elephant in her new purple suit with matching do-rag!

Apparently I was good this year, too; Santa brought me a tambourine (as every singer needs!) and A Bit of Fry and Laurie. It is hilarious, but I'm partial to British comedy, and loooove both Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie. It's awesome. The Man seemed quite pleased with his ginormous gift, as well. The third picture above is of Peanut helping him open it: a kit to brew beer at home. Ingenious gift giving on both parts!

Our first time hosting Christmas dinner was more or less successful: the turkey and stuffing turned out perfectly, though we ate about an hour later than we had hoped (there was a slight issue with getting the turkey into the oven a little late, and with seven last-minute drop-in guests). Next year, well, next year I'll have a better idea of what I'm doing! Of course, I'll also have a toddler, so who knows if things will actually improve.

We'll also have a four and a half month old infant here. I'm going to be an auntie! My little sister (not so little: she's 26) is due in early August with her first child. We're all extremely excited, and she's already talking enthusiastically about having a midwife and a home birth and cloth diapering. It's fabulous!

I got to see my newly preggo sister yesterday afternoon at our friend's baby shower. It was...interesting. I've recently decided to train to be a doula, a birth assistant, as I feel very passionately about birthing options for women and assisting women in having positive birth experiences. My friend who is due in about four weeks is a post-partum nurse in a nearby hospital, and many of the other women who were at the shower are also nurses, so it made for some rather, uh, interesting conversations. It never ceases to amaze me how, so often, women choose to thwart one another when it comes to pregnancy, birth and breastfeeding. It seems a strangely North American phenomenon. It was disappointing that this friend, who only a few years ago was considering studying to become a midwife and thought home births were wonderful, is now absolutely convinced that birth is always a painful and unpleasant process; I'm not saying that it isn't for some, but it doesn't need to be for everyone. Yesterday afternoon certainly affirmed for me that I definitely need to become a doula: there are so many negative voices surrounding pregnant women - I plan to be a positive one!

::

I knit our new little niece a Baby Surprise Jacket for Christmas. Did I take a picture before wrapping it up? No, of course not. I am a fool. I am entirely hooked on the BSJ, though: that thing is an engineering marvel!!

I have a tunic of mine to show you, and a cardi I finished knitting a couple of months ago (though haven't finished finishing, if you understand me - blocking, sewing on ribbon-facing and attaching snaps - but Peanut has been wearing it anyway) but have yet to get good pictures of any of it. I leave you with this sleepy picture of Peanut in her mostly-done cardi. Happy day-after-day-after-Boxing Day!

Merry Christmas to all!

Merry Christmas, everyone! Blessings on you and yours this day and in the year to come!

Remembering, or, In anticipation

From Sufjan Stevens Christmas album.

This was my very favourite Christmas song as a child. Peanut and I danced around the kitchen this morning and I sang it to her and I cried. I'm finding this Christmas with her so overwhelmingly happy.

Sweet potato, or, Peanut's first solid

No real eating was accomplished, though she licked a little bit at the end. We'll try again tomorrow!

Will you look at that, or, Teeny Tiny

Actual knitting!

I began knitting these waaaay back in the early summer, thinking that they would be just darling for Peanut to wear. Unfortunately, my gauge estimate and entirely slow progress on them conspired to have her grow out of them long before they were completed. Peanut has a new little cousin arriving on Monday, however (we will not discuss my position on unnecessary, scheduled sections at this time. Needless to say: I have opinions about them and bite my tongue around SIL) so she (sonagrams imply that the cousin will be a girl) will be gifted these upon her arrival.



Pattern: Saartje's Booties
Yarn: Jawoll Superwash Sock in Dark Brown
Needles: 2.0 mm, I think
Mods: none