Anna's Xanga

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 16:48:57 GMT

Birth Story

Good Morning! And man, is it E.V.E.R. a good morning. I'm home, semi-warm (Brian's promised to call the furnace guy to get it working better soon), and baby Owen is sleeping peacefully while more coffee percolates, Brian's at work (half day), and the kids are all at my mom's. I have a minute! ((grins!)) So I thought I'd put it to good use and write up The Birth Story.

Sunday night, we were playing Yahtzee with the kids. ((Well, Ethan and Aaron had extra dice to plunk around, but the two older ones played the game with us - GREAT for math, by the way.)) And all of a sudden, I had a really strong contraction. It wasn't the piddly Braxton silliness I've been snuffing at all week, it was something tangible. And then a few minutes later, another. And then another. But my water hadn't broken (that's the tell-tale signal I usually work from), and they were a good seven minutes apart, so I wasn't too worried. It just meant a long night, that's all. We tucked the kids into bed, and I started packing a 'go' bag, just in case. Because up until then, I hadn't seen the point. The kids, on the other hand, have been waiting impatiently, and had their bags packed (and re-packed, and RE-packed!) a week ago.

So we went to bed, curled up, and I planned on a very interrupted night's sleep at the most -OR- everything to piddle off as I relaxed at the very least. The piddling seemed to take place, and I fell asleep right away. For an hour. Then, BAM! Whoa, that was strong! And BAM! BAM! BAM! I was timing them two minutes apart - they were hitting strong and steady, and... well, that was relaxed as I could get, hello! So I got up - sometimes if you go from resting to active (or vice versa) it changes things. But it didn't. BAM! BAM! BAM! Ooookay. Time to wake up Brian. And it's almost 1am, so this is going to suck. ((My other births all started in the morning, after we got at least four hours sleep in preparation. This was going to be a LONG night.))

He called the doctor while I got kids up (which, amazingly, was a snap - they popped up like daisies, grabbing clothes, pillows, backpacks and jabbering a mile a minute!). The doctor said since it was my fifth birth and two minutes is pretty durn close, she wanted us to come down. So we called my mom. And called my mom. And packed the car and called my mom. And got on the road and called my mom. And called my mom. And for half an hour drive, I called my mom (BOTH of their cellphones, which she swore she was keeping right next to her at all times, because they were SO READY for us... *snort!*) And we pulled into her driveway and I called my mom. And called my mom. Then we sent the kids up to start ringing the doorbell. And a few minutes later, a light comes on, and she says, "Oh, perfect timing, we were just headed to bed!" Nevermind the flannel nighty, bedhead, and total disorientation. LoL!! Anyhow, we got the kids ushered in and hugged soundly, and took off.

By the time I hit triage, the contractions backed off to every 4 minutes, and so they kept us an hour, then kept us another hour, and I assured Brian that we were NOT going home - if they said they weren't keeping us, we'd go walk the parking lot. But it was snowing and frigid and 4:30am, and I really wasn't feeling up to it (like that'd stop me), so I was hoping they'd keep us. So by 5:30am I'm exhausted, Brian's exhausted, we're still in a holding pattern, and if they'd JUST let me up to walk, I could be making progress, but no. walking. for. VBACs. Nevermind I walked the last three VBACs I did. Whatever. And of course nothing changes when you're lying still on your back. Four minutes. Four minutes. Four minutes. We'd stopped timing them, at this point. But it's impossible to sleep when you're contracting every four minutes for six hours straight. I was losing momentum.

So the on-call Dr. decided to put me into 'Morphine Sleep'. Which means putting me in an actual room, stabbing me in the hiney with THE most obnoxiously painful drug (HATED it), and assuring me it'd "knock me out" for six hours straight, I'd wake up in full labor, and we'd have a baby! I agreed (even though I was leery of morphine)... mostly because if I slept, Brian would sleep, and he needed it, too. But the problem is, I'm highly resistant to drugs. So the morphine hurt like a sonuvabeeotch, made me dizzy as heck and nauseous, but I didn't sleep. At all. Go figure. So at shift change (7:30am) the new doctor came in, heard what was going on, and decided to break my bag and end the drama. So he ruptured the sac, they inserted internal monitoring (new regulations), and waited. Four minutes. Four minutes. Four minutes.

I was fed UP with this BS. So I asked if I could at LEAST stand up. When they said yes, I paced a distance of two feet. Brian laughed his hiney off - 'what are you DOING?!'. I'm walking two feet over here. Now I'm walking back two feet. Now I'm walking... oops, that damn cord... two feet this way. And back. And amazingly, the contractions were getting stronger... lasting longer. And (being exhausted), I headed for bed. But moving helped. So I tipped the bed up all the way, had a contraction (they were now 2 minutes long... REALLY long... each!). Then when about two minutes passed between, I'd put the bed all the way down, and have a contraction. Up. Down. Up. Down. Then I got up and paced the two-foot I could go. Then laid down. Up. Down. ((Yes, I'm weird.)) But this WORKED - I went from 3cm to 4cm to 5cm, every 40 minutes, now. After nothing laying still for all those stOOpid hours. And things were getting stronger yet... so I asked for the epidural. NO chances of not getting one, this time, people!!

They hemmed and hawed a bit (we want your contractions closer), but I got the epi by noon, promising them that it always sped things up with me. Of course nobody believed me - epidurals slow people down, honey, not speed things up. ((I'm a labor/delivery anomaly, apparently.)) But once the epi went in, I jumped to 6cm, then half an hour later 7cm... and twenty minutes after that, I felt something REALLY heavy shift down below (of course no pain or contraction sensation, though - LOVE the epi)... so I called the nurse, and she said I was fully dialated, head in position, cervix complete... call the doctor! ((And, wow, you ARE an anomaly, honey!))

The doctor came in, rather indecisive about what to do. He was just on his way to a scheduled C-section, and didn't want to be late. My nurse (who - don't laugh - was THE head nurse... that note in my file that I joke says I'm a problem person? Well, maybe it's true - they gave me the big gun!) said, "You'll deliver this gal, first." The doctor said, "Well, we'll let her push, and see what happens." And I said, "You let me push, and you'll be holding a baby. I won't keep you long." And true to my word (I'm one helluva pusher), I delivered the head on push one, and half a minute later on push two delivered the rest of the baby. Could've done it on one, but they made me stop because I was tearing pretty badly and they wanted to give the area time to stretch before there was a different sort of problem. I did end up with second-degree tears, but I always tear, so it's no biggie. Just not fun in the two weeks afterward.

Owen scored 7/9 on his APGARS (I was concerned, because he was SOOO blue when he came out), but he had a lusty cry and a TON of hair, and while the crud bucket overturned all over the floor (pissing EVERYONE off), I was too busy with little man and Brian to much care. Not to mention that overwhelming feeling of relief and lightness that comes directly after birth. LOVE that feeling!

We were given another room, and that's when I went into pain-in-the-ass mode. Owen - being over nine pounds - was 'high risk' for diabetes, so they wanted to heel prick him and draw blood every so many hours. I said NO... the poor little guy just had a traumatic experience, and I'm NOT going to let you stab the shit out of him. I agreed to one draw so they could be sure he was okay, and when the result was fine, I didn't allow any more. I also said NO to the Hep B... we can do it later at the pediatrician's, but I don't know enough yet about it, and I didn't want to do it until I'd read more. I also said NO, he won't be taken to the nursery without one of us. I just... don't like them coming and taking him away.

As soon as things were 'settled' (< hahaha!) I started pushing to go home, to get the IV out (the idiot triage nurse inserted it into my arm an inch below the elbow, needle pointing towards the joint, so every time I bent my arm, it stabbed my elbow and HURT)... also, the angle it was on messed up the tubing in L&D, so I couldn't raise my arm more than an inch off the bed without setting off alarms the WHOLE birth. *Snort!* I made a deal with the night nurse - I'd leave it in until 11pm if she promised to take it out then.

It was a horrific night. Every five minutes someone was there to draw blood, to check my vitals, to check his vitals, to administer pain pills, to check my stomach, to check the bleeding, to get me up to the bathroom, to weigh him... and ON, and ON, and ON it went. By now, it's 3am, I've been awake for somewhere near 38 hours straight, I'm exhausted, and they just. won't. go. away. And they gave me the room right across from the nursing station, and NOBODY can shut a door, and so every conversation, every cackle, every phone call... I got up and shut the door. And up and shut the door. And up and shut the door. And it was just pointless - the way they kept coming in. Owen got no sleep. I got no sleep. And that ligament was SCREAMING from getting up and down and up and down...

The morning on-call doctor came in and said I could go home at 4pm if the pediatrician said Owen was okay. So one hurdle crossed. And perfect timing - Brian had a 2:30 appt across the street with the Snip Doctor, so after that we'd just start the discharge paperwork, eh? Almost not so - the pediatrician came in, said Owen was looking beautiful - no signs of jaundice at all, everything checked out marvelously... who is my pediatrician? "I don't have one." Then NO, you can't go home. "Um... why not? If he's fine, I'm fine...?" Well, he could develop jaundice over the next 2-3 days, or a heart murmur or something. "!!!!!" And you HAVE to take him to a pediatrician BY THURSDAY at the latest, and you don't have a pediatrician. So I bargained with her, too. ((Idiot - like staying one more day would change the fact that I STILL don't have a pediatrician?! Or that he could develop a heart murmur, prostrate cancer, jaundice, or bubonic plague BY THURSDAY?)) I made an appointment with HER to ease HER anxiety over protocol for Thursday, and she pissily agreed to let me go home at 4pm.

Brian came in around 11am and I told him we're GOING HOME today. He tried to talk me into staying another day - "You'll get more rest here!" ((Crazy white man say WHAT?!)) I want to go HOME to REST... I'm so tired I can't hardly talk straight... and heeeeere they come again! The nursing barrage was driving me crazy. And I'm cranky, tired, sore, bleeding, peevish (over the pediatrician crap)... and now I get the lovely news from Brian that my mom isn't going to bring the kids up to see the baby.

(((!!!!!!!!!!)))

I can see it now... the page in my scrapbook that says "This page would've been pictures of the kids coming to visit new baby brother, only my mother is so damn paranoid and wiggy about hospitals that she refused to bring them up and ruined the Kodak moment, bonding and introduction time and HAS JUST LOST HER DAMN TOWN DAY FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE BECAUSE I'M SOOOOO PISSSSSED OFFFFF, and if she can't haul it up here ONE HOUR for me, I'll be DAMNED if I'm going to schlep my freakin' ass to her house every other Friday of my life, hello! ((<<< Ooookay, so she wasn't lying - she's hormonal, tired, and it looks as though WWXVIII is going to bust out the moment she hits her mother's house.)) So Brian wisely calls my mom's, tells them to bring the kids up before 4pm, because that's when we'll be going home.

And we sit. And wait. And wait. And wait. And for people who couldn't let me rest five freakin' minutes all night, I saw ONE nurse in the next five hours of sitting. But of course by now baby is over his limit and VERY needy, and I'm not going to sleep now, either, because a) I'm packing, b) I'm nursing, c) I don't want to bore Brian (<<crazy or not, I get that way), and d) my kids could come anytime.

But they don't. It's now 2:15, Brian's on his way out the door to see the Snip Doctor, and no sign of my family. They're not coming. She's not going to bring them up. I just know it. And I'm angry. ((And tired.)) So I lay down and cuddle with little Owen... oblivious to Brian down in the parking lot, calling my mom and finding out they're just hanging out at the house... and stating in NO UNCERTAIN TERMS that they'd better get up to the hospital NOW if they want to have the kids another night. ((which, yes, he softened from 'for the rest of your life'.))

So around 3:30, the nurse comes in and says, "Are you expecting visitors?" ((<<Because I'm a no-info patient - if you called and asked where I was, they'd say they have no record of an AnnaMatrix in their system. I did this because of the Muslim comments from this past week on my site - Michigan has THE highest concentration fo Muslims in the US, and I didn't want trouble IRL. Which is also why I didn't post an "I'm going In!!" blog... it's too easy to find me - even WITHOUT my last name - when I'm in a public facility accessible to the general populace.))

Anyhow, Brian had given my family the room number, they forgot it, and were aimlessly roaming the maternity ward, apparently. That'd be my mom, pop, brother and his wife, and four small children. Lost party of eight, wandering the ninth floor. Please send back-up immediately. Oi M'vey. So several nurses later ("What do we do with these people?!?!?!") they finally accept my "please just send them in here" plea and show everyone to my room.

And I'm functioning on an hour's sleep in going on two and a half days, so I (of course) lay on the guilt... "I'm so glad you came up, because think how little Owen would feel if he had NO VISITORS on his scrapbook pages like his brothers and sister do, and NOBODY CARED enough for him to bother to come and meet him on his FIRST big day." ((<< Yes, why, yes, I can REALLY suck, can't I?)) I also added, "We made a deal - I agreed to let the kids spend another night sleeping over if Brian got you to come up and visit." Because I knew she really wanted the kids another night.

So they left, we packed, we headed home, and Owen is catching up on his sleep. And I'm coming into my milk. ((Yikes!)) And Brian's going to be working half-days the rest of the week, since he didn't take vacation for this (he said you can't take vacation if you don't know WHEN you need the time, and births aren't predictable). And tonight my parents are bringing the kids home and the banshee trio over to meet Owen (since they were at the Snake's house yesterday afternoon). So I have to clean house, get things around... prepare for transitioning to FIVE children. Yipes. But we got a good night's sleep last night (Owen was only up 2am and 5am), and I feel WAY better, now that we're home.

So... yeah! Great birth experience, little traumatic - the whole hospital stay thing - but we were home 24 hours after delivery and are finally getting caught up on sleep and stuff now. Owen is a squeaker, but very snuggly and sweet... even if he kind of looks like "a NY city cab driver" (< Brian's words) with all that dark hair and squinty eyes... and squishy cheeks. LoL!! I've been calling him 'Julio' and singing "Me n' Julio down by the Schoolyard" ever since we got home. Weird. But he's already won over ALL of his brothers and sister, so I'm not worried about the transition too much. Should be fine!

And that's the Big Birth Story! ((PS: Sorry it took so long to put up - I did the writing this morning and held off until after 'awake' time and feedings n' stuff to post the picture portion, so it's afternoon, not morning now!))

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Tuesday, December 08, 2009

Tue, 08 Dec 2009 23:49:02 GMT

Introducing...

Owen James

He was born December 7th, 2009 at 3:42pm,

weighing 9lbs, 7oz. and at 22inches.

Baby Owen and I both had a very good birth.
I'll be sure to update you with the story tomorrow,
but I just got back, and I'm going to cuddle the little man, k?

((Just glad to be home!))

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Monday, December 07, 2009

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 13:35:28 GMT

Two Comings of Messiah
((from FFoZ that came to my Inbox, yesterday))

That Perez pushed ahead was part of the Divine plan. Zerah desired to emerge first but God declared: "Messiah is destined to descend from Perez; is it right, then, that Zerah should emerge first? Let Zerah return to his mother's womb, and Perez shall be born first!" (Aggadat Bereshit)

But it came about as he drew back his hand, that behold, his brother came out. Then she said, "What a breach you have made for yourself!" So he was named Perez. Afterward his brother came out who had the scarlet thread on his hand; and he was named Zerah. (Genesis 38:29-30)

According to the Midrash Rabbah, when Tamar's pregnancy advanced to the point where the child was showing, she "would tap upon her stomach and exclaim, 'I am big with kings and redeemers.'" (Genesis Rabbah 85:10) At the very least, she was big with twins. The Torah tells us a harrowing birth story. While she was in labor, the first of her two sons extended his hand. The midwife tied a scarlet string around his wrist to identify the firstborn, but he then retracted his hand and apparently retreated back down the birth canal--generally a physiological impossibility. His brother was born ahead of him, apparently a breach child. Tamar named him Perez (Peretz, פרץ), which means "breach."

In Rabbinic literature, Perez, the son of Judah and Tamar, is often closely associated with King Messiah, who is in turn titled the Son of Perez. The birth of Perez and Zerah can be understood metaphorically to represent the first and second coming of Messiah. Perez, whose name also means "breaker," represents Messiah in His first coming. He breaks open the way into the kingdom of heaven. In the Midrash Rabbah, Tamar names him Perez to indicate that King Messiah, "the Breaker," would one day come forth from him:

Tamar meant, "This one is greater than all those who make breaches, for from you will arise [the King Messiah of whom it is written in Micah 2:13], 'The breaker (poretz, פורץ) goes up before them; [They break out, pass through the gate and go out by it. So their king goes on before them, and the LORD at their head.]'" (Genesis Rabbah 85:14)

Zerah (Zerach, זרח), whose name means "dawning," represents Messiah in His second coming. The great redemption of the messianic age is spoken of in the prophets as the dawning:

Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD has risen (zarach) upon you. For behold, darkness will cover the earth and deep darkness the peoples; but the LORD will rise upon you and His glory will appear upon you. Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your rising (zarach). (Isaiah 60:1-3)

But for you who fear My name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings; and you will go forth and skip about like calves from the stall. (Malachi 4:2)

Just as Tamar and the midwife expected Zerah to be born first, the people of the Master's generation anticipated the messianic redemption. Like a thread of scarlet, they did receive a token of the coming redemption, but before the final redemption could dawn, the Messiah needed to accomplish His purposes on the cross and in the grave. When Perez defied Tamar's expectation by bursting forth ahead of Zerah, she exclaimed, "What a breach you have made for yourself!" (Genesis 38:29) In the same way, Messiah's first coming defied popular expectation. As He burst forth from the tomb, Israel might be imagined to exclaim, "What a breach you have made for yourself!"

aNNa'S NoTe: I LOVE these things... I get more out of them (and TorahClass) than I ever have out of any sermon. Which is why I purposely don't post them on Sun-days... I like to let people stagnate in pews, and keep the pastor-induced mind-numb separate from Truth.

SEVENTH DAY OF DECEMBER.

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Sunday, December 06, 2009

Sun, 06 Dec 2009 15:16:08 GMT

Life & Links

Because I'm still here but hurting...

... oh, didn't tell you about that? Chuck E. Cheese's pizzeria, Friday Nite - Anna does the way too much walking/bending/lifting thing for way too long with no sit-downs in between and pulls that doggone blasted never-healing pelvic ligament again, and by the time we got home, I was in total, FReeeeaKiN' agony. I've never hurt so bad that just laying in bed made me want to cry. ((Okay, maybe I have... it's similar to the time I had internal ruptured hemorriodal fissures that felt like I was being knifed on the inside, but that was 10 years ago, and this is external, not internal.)) Anyhoooo, I hurt. And it's not contractions, it's that ligament - a non-stop driving pain shooting thru nerves that should NOT be a part of my life.

Needless to say, I was still hurting yesterday morning, we considered NOT going to any of the Santa Claus parades. ((Why do people have Santa Claus parades the FIRST Saturday of the month, anyhow? Isn't that a little early? Of course winter coat clearance is on, too, and we're only day three into snow, so I may be wrong...)) Anyhow, I couldn't not take the kids. I figured if I found a place to sit, it'd be okay... we'd have a good time. Things would work out. And they did - the parade we chose was small, short, ((freezing but)) fun, and at 2 in the afternoon, so I had the whole morning to try to walk off some of the stiffness that set in over the night.

We also got Ethan a new winter coat. Something with a detatchable, warm-as-Hell (literally!) lining in it. Fifty percent off, did I mention that? Brian wanted to go on from there to get more heated buckets at the farm store (we have 4 more goats than last year, two in a separate pen, and the ducks destroyed their heated dish)... but I needed Aaron to get a decent nap (he hasn't had one in two days), and wasn't up to walking another store (hey, I thought I did good, considering!)... so he dropped me and Aaron and Isaac (aka the naughty one who misses out on a lot because he just can't keep out of trouble) at home, and took Lydia and Ethan to get supplies.

Here's BAG NUMBER TWO!! I finished it yesterday while Brian was at the feed store. A few changes - instead of stitching up the sides and tacking on straps, I made the strap twice as long and sewed it as a side panel to the bag. Both Brian and I like that better... and Lydia was THRILLED with it. (("If you were to make me one... when I get a bag someday... if you do one for me, mom..." as hers is tucked under the side of the sofa between us, heheheheh!))

I also started BAG NUMBER THREE. The kids wanted to watch a movie, and after a nice Shabbat supper (I know, technically it's after sundown, but that's USGOVs fault, and I can't help that) I thought it would be nice for them to wind down, so we watched "Ice Princess" and I got started on the next bag. And btw, sitting down and letting muscles relax has REALLY helped - I'm not gasping as I rise/sit/roll over/walk anymore. So that's good.

Today? I plan to finish BAG NUMBER THREE, I might Craigslist a crib (our infant crib's mattress bit the big one, and it's actually cheaper to get a new crib off Craigslist than to try to find a mattress for our odd-sized crib, here!)... I'm hoping Brian'll do... something, too. Something more active than my sitting on the sofa, crocheting. Hey, SOMEBODY'S got to take up my slack while I'm decrepit. LoL!! Maybe work on Lydia's closet, or work on wiring up the basement so I can turn off the light down there? And since I'm going to be a handiwork machine, churning out the stitches at breakneck speed (and hence not hanging out on-line), I thought I'd leave you with four fantastic links:

FerFel today posted about survival kits. He has an 'Altoid Kit' - little stuff to carry in your purse. And an EDC kit (Every Day Carry), and a BOB Kit (Bug-Out Bag)... which I don't carry, because I have a car kit of my own... that needs serious re-vamping attention, but it's the wrong time of year/life/pregnancy/ligament for that at the moment. Of coure FerFel's stuff is WAY more involved than what I do, but remember, he's in year 10 of the Argentinian collapse... with rioting, corruption, death around every corner. We're in month 28 of the American Collapse, so everything is still precautionary at this point. Still, good stuff, if you're interested! I at LEAST recommend the Altoid Kit. It's just common sense... and fits in any purse easily.

FerFel also co-hosts a site on preparing for collapse in America called "Grab the Apple", as someone who's been there, done that. I visited for the first time this week, and saw this chart... it's an animated graphic that shows unemployment in the US (by county!) from 2007 thru the present. VERY kewl to take a look at. Fast upload, too (<< and coming from someone with dial-up, that's saying something!)

TSLR posted a link to a really funny (kinda vulgar, though) flow chart of health care in the United States today... as we know it. It was hilarious... well worth checking out. Unless Sunday is your pagan religious ritual day and anything not sprinkled with holy water that you come in contact with today will set off your delicate sensibilities. In which case, you might want to wait until tomorrow. ((wink!))

My friend V linked me to 'Movies in 15 Minutes' - a site where they give THE funniest summaries of films. She directed me to the one for 'Twilight: New Moon', knowing that Lydia and I have kind of a mild thing for the series/films. It was so funny, I had to make a dash for the potty, I was laughing so hard. ((No, it didn't set off contractions, go figure!)) But homigosh, this is a riot. Even if you haven't seen the movie... read this review. You'll bust up, I promise!

So... yeah. I'm healing and crocheting... want to get the bags DONE so I can start on the NEXT project... the X-mess presents for adults. Brian's doing his part of them now, so they'll be prepped for me to detail. And yeah, I'll share pictures and show you what we're doing this year for our family and friends. No worries! ((Oh, and I'll keep you updated on the preggercy thing, although at this point, I'm not sure I'm going to E.V.E.R. give birth... OTOH, tomorrow is *MY* guess on the chart, so... y'never know!))

SIXTH DAY OF DECEMBER.
((Oh, Baby, Where art Thou?))

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Saturday, December 05, 2009

Sat, 05 Dec 2009 13:04:38 GMT

How NOT to Crochet a Bag

The first thing you don't do is read my previous post ("So NOT bagging It") and/or get excited about yarn, projects, handmade gifts, or crocheting. That's the first thing, because if you allow brain-type things to head in that direction, you're screwed. First it's an experimental pair of fingerless gloves. Then it's FOUR more pair, and a newborn baby jackas- er, jacket. ((Freudian slip. He needs to come out about now.))

The next thing you don't do is decide that you don't really need a pattern to make this bag, since nothing you've seen looks like the brain-type thing in your head, anyhow. You don't realize this is because you're hyped up on eggnog and pre-natals, not to mention the dreaded and highly controversial vitamin D-3. But seriously, why do you need a pattern?! You've looked at a picture, figured that it was just a really long crocheted rectangle folded and stitched up the sides, leaving enough of a 'tab' at the top to be a fold-over flap. Simple, simple, simple. Who needs a pattern? Definitely not you. Never have, never will. R'something.

Then you definitely should not wonder halfway thru the monotony of crocheting thousands and thousands of camouflage stitches if you could change colors. You've never done THAT before... but it can't be hard, can it? You tie off your work, loop up a new color, insert it into the next stitch, and voila! New color. Like... it's a stripey thing! Too kewl!!! Except I didn't really think about where it'd end up on the bag... and that's a really sucky place. Hrm. But if it were on the end of the flap... yes!

So the logical thing to do is continue your (not anywhere near long enough) rectangle bag down at the bottom... but don't do it. Because the bottom isn't crotcheted (did I just type 'crotch'? Tee-heeeeee....!!!), it's chained. Remember, you always start by chaining? Well, who cares... you can crochet into a chain - you're Anna. Invincible! So I crochet into the chain and... um... it leaves a kind of kewl but very NOT matching stitch pattern.

SO!? This is my 'trial' purse. That'll just... be the bottom. Yeah. It's different because that's where the purse will fold. See? It looks just fine folded that'a way. So you keep stitching and stitching and stitching...

Then you fold over the sides, stitch them up, and start considering what to do about a shoulder strap. Braid? No, that won't work. Macrame? Hrm, not thinking so, since the only weave I know is spiral. Crochet it is.

So then you start crocheting a long, long, LONG strip for the shoulder strap. And decide that the bag needs more color as you're stitching five, chain a turn around, stitching five, chain a turn around... and decide that the kewl holey patterns down either side of the strap could have colored yarn weaved thru them. And you do it But in your excitement, you stop making strap too early and have a shorter strap than you wanted. ((SIGH!!)) Okay... but the color's at least pretty...

Then you DON'T look at the picture again, and say, hey, I can make a flower like that for the front! All they did was chain a line and stitch the thing down, then add a button for decoration. Because you have NO idea how long to chain, can't get yarn thru the button, and did I mention this is AFTER the bag's sides were sewn up, so it was harder to bring the needle in and out of the bag? ((Note to self: Put the flower on before you sew up the sides, next time!!))

Anyhow, here's the finished project. I also made a headband/ear warmer to match (to stick in the bag) - it looks a lot like the strap - with the decorative stitching on either side? - only wider and sewed in a round shape. And Lydia's fingerless gloves are the rainbow colored thread, as well as her scarf (although I have to finish it by adding fringe... hopefully in alternating camo green and rainbow. But I'm really REALLLLLY close to being out of both, now...)

Yeah. So! Now I'm on to make three more. For the banshee trio. I didn't know what to do for X-mess for them, so I thought I'd make bags and matching headband/ear warmer things, and we could get a pack of crayons, a princess chapstick, a fold-up hairbrush, a pack of tic-tacs... little things to put in their bags so they have a lot to unwrap but it doesn't break the bank or anything. Shhh, don't tell!!

Also, Lydia has her gloves, and knows about the scarf, but hasn't seen this bag or her headband... and I'm going to give her the same kinds of things to put in it for her 'travel pack'. I'm pretty happy with how it came out, considering all the mistakes and hackage I committed on the poor thing. LoL!!

What do you think? Not too bad for an amateur that only knows one stitch and never uses patterns? ((My next little brain-type thing is to try skipping stitches to make a pattern in the rows...))

FIFTH DAY OF DECEMBER.
((Shabbat Shalom, oi vey, and all that jazz.))

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Friday, December 04, 2009

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 13:30:43 GMT

Town Day Talk

It's Town Day. I'm thinking I need to change the name of that, because:
      a) It's not a town, it's a city. I don't live in a town, either.
      b) We don't *go* to anything in town city on Town Day but my mom's.
      c) Nevermind. Status quo just annoys when you're this pregnant.
      d) Anna is the town city, now. Just look at me, hello.

You know you're really REEEEEEALLY sick of being pregnant when you sit on a beach towel on the sofa, crocheting a camouflage green headband for your survivalist daughter while making up alternate lyrics to songs you don't sing on a normal basis... at 3:30am. While waiting for:
       a) your water to break
       b) a contraction. Any size, shape, or falsity.
       c) the mouse trap under the sink to go off
       d) someone to try to break in. That's what people do at 3am, right?
       e) a yawn. That might indicate I'm tired enough to return to bed.

The song lyrics are very unimaginative, I might add. Last night this morning they were set to the tune of "Jewels", which you probably don't know unless you've been attending a church since 1978. But because of my really odd mood, I'm going to share, anyhow:

       When he cometh, when he cometh
        My water might breaketh
        I will change clothes, I'll tell Brian
        We'll go back to bed.
        He'll take off work and help me
        Get the kids to my mother's
        Then we'll go out for breakfast
         No sausage - it's pork.

         And it's snowing, (don't it figure?)
         The roads may be icy
         Please don't ditch it, on the highway
         (((Those poles really suck)))
         We'll park at the hos-pit-al
         Walk the lot for a little
         Freeze our bums off (God's laughing)
         Yes, this is my life.

I should win a Tony for that. Except none of the above is even remotely close to happening. Well, except the ditch and the snow. Did I mention it's snowing? And that Brian's alarm never went off this morning, so when he woke up a half hour AFTER he was supposed to be at work, everyone thought we were on our way to L&D... so he got up and called in to assure them there's no baby. Yeah, that's what he said. "Hi, Bill, is Carl there? Hey, Carl... no baby. I'll be there in a few minutes." Well... he was wrong. There technically is a baby, but he's not my friend, and I haven't seen him attempt to make any effort at an appearance, yet, hello... And Brian wouldn't be there in a few minutes, either - it's coming down hard out there. SNOW, people.

Today would've been the ideal day, actually. Over the weekend... Brian' wouldn't have missed much work... I'd've gotten out of being at Town Day... but of course what is most convenient is rarely what happens. Watch me pop on Monday, instead. Or next month, or something. Maybe it's a tumor. It doesn't move with me, anymore... it could be a tumor. It's pretty bad when it sits on the sofa between your legs, it's so damn big. Have to roll the sucker over in bed with your hands, cuz it's too heavy to come with you, anymore... nevermind me. I'm just the carrier host.

And it's not for lack of activity. I schlepped up to... Plainfield?... yesterday for 70 skeins of yarn (yeay, Craigslist find!) and then to Office Max for a gold pen they didn't have and then to Hobby World for a gold pen they didn't have, then to pick up Brian and head to Flowerland for a gold pen they DID have, but they don't decorate the trees in the 'Christmas Gallery' anymore (like they did when I was a kid) so that was a SEVERE bummer to walk thru - undecorated X-mess trees, especially since (by that time) I was starting to get really sore around the ligament and heavy around the middle/top/bottom/city. Then we went to Denny's and left Denny's because it would've cost us FIFTY FREAKIN' DOLLARS to eat there and their menu sucked and there was no food included in the kids meals, and I'm now learning to 'just say no' (after the photo fiasco)... and we went to Russ' for supper, instead (which is nicer, cheaper and has actual food), and then - as if ALL OF THAT weren't enough in and out, walking, and loading/unloading children, I went grocery shopping... and put it all away.

Still no sign of baby, no water breakage, nothing more than a really pathetic attempt at ONE contraction which may or may not have been Braxton Hicks, it was so wimpy. I'm... Hoss. Toughest uterus in the West. Nothin's gonna break my bag, by golly. I dare ya to take me n' m'belly on, folk.

((I think I need more sleep.))

So today I start bags for the banshees, maybe do a pictorial of my first bag (now finished, as of 4am this morning!), and show you how NOT to make up making a bag for a post I can write tomorrow morning... at 3:30am. Since that's what I do, now. I also get to do bills, hit the bank for money (, honey,) get the kids ready for Town Day, NOT slide into the ditch, which is virtually impossible, anyhow, since they put up those bars that bounce you back into traffic so that you can be killed by the 18-wheeler beside you instead of sitting in the median calling AAA. Your state stimulus money, hard at work... only $200,000 per mile of bars/metal cables.

But it's not a normal Town Day - my brother's in town city for two weeks, and he wants to do X-mess and Thanksgiving with the family (since he missed Turkey Day to be in San Diego surfing and plans to miss X-mess to scuba dive in Florida)... and since he doesn't know what to get the kids, he's taking us to Chuck E. Cheese. So that'll be fun, too. Ninety weeks pregnant, chasing Aaron around the video game thing-a-ma-jiggers. And I'll bet you ten to one even THAT won't so much as sit me down with twinges.

Did I mention we got four inches last night, and it's coming down strong, right now? I have to tend critters in that. Drive to town city in that. Drive from my mom's to Chuck E. Cheese's in that. And back. And later, home... where I won't sleep, will crochet until the wee hours, when I'll post my pictorial of how NOT to crochet a bag. And will assure my husband that he can go to work without fear - nothing is going to happen.

Other than the slow descent into insanity as the child within (which may be a male version of Reneesme) slowly eats me alive. But, really, that's nothing. Go on with your lives... really. I'm fine. Just... hanging out... Waiting...

FOURTH DAY OF DECEMBER!!
((The number of testing. And isn't THAT apt?!))

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Thursday, December 03, 2009

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 08:15:14 GMT

Family Portraits

The more I look at them, the more upset I get. But that's the perfectionist in me that is slowly driving me mad. And yes, that's one of the issues that I do own up to. It's not easy being me... take my word for it. But in any case, here are the 2009 family portraits we had done. At Target. Go to Wal-Mart. Seriously.

The girl (and I chose that word intentionally) doing the work was a twit. She squealed at my kids the entire time ((is that supposed to make them laugh? They looked at her like she was mentally challenged. It was really NOT impressive)). I'm not sure they ever taught her to take a picture - just threw a camera in her hands. And unlike cheapy Wal-Mart (which you'd think was a step DOWN from Tar-jay), there was no screen hooked up to her camera. At WallyWorld, you immediately see the picture, so if someone blinked or something wasn't right, you could fix it immediately while everyone's posed. Here you got whatever she took on her camera and showed you in the office, after the fact. Blew massive chunkage, btw. Because here's what she did:

The arranging of children are either schmooshed or with big gaping holes... and that those two older kids are NOT my Isaac and Lydia. The only reason Aaron was even close to smiling was because I was tickling him from behind a black shirt. ((!!)) And I'm REALLY tired of them sticking kids on the floor and shooting down at them. Wal-Mart has tables with fur on them, stackable stools, chairs, benches, and even a faux sleigh, hello. Pixxes me off - you pay $100 for someone to set your kid on the floor and get them all looking up at you from a great distance... what IS that, other than unimaginative, poor positioning, and a MAJORLY bad angle? And these are after I had her zoom them in - I kid you not!

I had a choice of these floor shots or ultra-super-close-ups of their faces - JUST their faces, so close you didn't get chin or hair in them. The furtherst out she got from baby Aaron is the one you see above, no crap. And she shot them dead-on... that's a HUGE no-no in photography. You either tip the head or come in at an angle or SOMETHING, or the subject's features will look disproportionate... which is 80% of the problem with the Lydia photo you're about to see below. ((Note I didn't commit the same heinous error in the summer picture being compared to it.))

BTW, yes these portraits are dark. They're the download-able proofs that are poor quality that they 'gift' us for being customers so that we can stick them on our websites. But they suck. The originals aren't as dark (I hope!), so you can see their outfits better and it's not like faces and hands floating in a sea of black. Unfortunately, they only offered three backgrounds - grey splotched (what we had last year), black, and this fireplace/sofa/garland/X-mess tree conglomeration of STUFF that was so busy I was afraid the kids would get lost in it. Unlike Wal-mart, which has at LEAST six holiday backgrounds on top of white, beige, black, and blue marbled over mauve. So... again. Go to Wal-Mart.

PS: One more confession. Lydia chose to grow out her bangs. I cannot stand the way she looks without bangs. I know that - as mother - I could tell her 'tough luck' and make her have the bangs whether she likes it or not. But my mom forced me to have hairstyles I despised and abhorred as a child, and I won't do that to her. OTOH, I (since seeing these) have subtly hinted that bangs would soften her face, that 9 is the age when little girls go into a gangly phase, and it would help her out if she didn't have all the forehead thang going on... I also showed her the difference between no-bang-Lydia and Lydia-with-bangs so she can see for herself. Maybe I should've just shut up and let her do her thing? I don't know. But my inner perfectionist has had issues EVERY. SINGLE. DAY with the no-bang issue. And last night she agreed that she didn't like the new 'look' as much as the softened, old one and that she needs to go back to having bangs (and can always wear a headband, anyhow, mom). *Whew!*

PPS: Brian has - btw - suggested we 'scrap' this session and do re-takes at Walmart... with the new baby in them, and with Lydia's hair cut properly again. That's... a LOT of money, but he says that this is something we'll look at for the next 50 years, and it matters to me, and it's worth it if we're both unhappy with them. What we *should've* done was walk, but doesn't that seem rude? I have issues with that, too. But honestly, we should have - because the quality, the service, the selection, the rapport... it was just awful. Retakes at WalMart? Hrm... you know me and money... but I *am* considering it. That is all.

THIRD DAY OF DECEMBER!!
((Can you believe I'm still here, BIG... waiting...?!))

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Thursday, December 03, 2009

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 03:11:28 GMT

Baby Pool!!!

We do this with every baby and I was just thinking...
It's time to have a baby pool and see who comes closest to guessing.
So... Please place your guesses here in the comment section.
Be sure to guess both A DAY and A WEIGHT.

To help out, each baby is bigger than the last:
Lydia was 8lbs 2oz,
Isaac was 8lbs 9oz,
Ethan was 9lbs 0oz,
and Aaron was 9lbs 14oz.

I'm supposed to be due on December 13th, 2009.
That's their date: I place the due date at December 9th.
However, so far I've been a week early each time.

Place your Vote!

Psalm113vs9	November 30, 2009	at 9lbs 7oz
Lydia (DD)	December 1, 2009	at 10lbs 0oz
Stephanie_in_AR	December 1, 2009	at 10lbs 2oz
FiberAddict	December 1, 2009	at 10lbs 6oz
Hearthrose	December 1, 2009	at 10lbs 3oz
QuietLife	December 2, 2009	at 9lbs 12oz
SheBrews	December 2, 2009	at 10lbs 5oz
I'llGrindMyOwn	December 2, 2009	at 10lbs 1oz
Momof6Arrows (?)	December 2, 2009	at 10lbs 6oz
Garfette	December 2, 2009	at 10lbs 0oz
MamaWoofy	December 2, 2009	at 9lbs 3oz
Ethan (DS)	December 3, 2009	at 10lbs 5oz
Brian (DH)	December 3, 2009	at 10lbs 1oz
Cagey	December 4, 2009	at 9bs 6oz
Isaac (DS)	December 4, 2009	at 11lbs 0oz
CathieR	December 4, 2009	at 10lbs 4oz
NotJustMom	December 4, 2009	at 9lbs 2oz
QMTJ	December 5, 2009	at 10lbs 2oz
SanctifiedAffliction	December 5, 2009	at 8lbs 7oz
Lola (?)	December 5, 2009	at 9lbs 12oz
LifeinLavender	December 5, 2009	at 10lbs 1oz
RynoMommy	December 6, 2009	at 9lbs 10oz
Mamatutu	December 6, 2009	at 10lbs 0oz
SpinnerMom	December 6, 2009	at 9lbs 10oz
Rose's Rose	December 6, 2009	at 10lbs 2oz
AnnaMatrix	December 7, 2009	at 10lbs 3oz
dccdmom	December 7, 2009	at 10lbs 4oz
IslandMom	December 7, 2009	at 10lbs 10oz
Momi26kidz	December 7, 2009	at 9lbs 15oz
CHorsey	December 7, 2009	at 9lbs 14oz
Alidansma	December 8, 2009	at 10lbs 1oz
Godpickedme	December 8, 2009	at 9lbs 15oz
SapphireGirl	December 8, 2009	at 9lbs 13oz
Moms4 (?)	December 8, 2009	at 10lbs 6oz
Deeta	December 8, 2009	at 9lbs 0oz
Wondering04	December 8, 2009	at 9lbs 8oz
GraceyCate	December 8, 2009	at 8lbs 7oz
KristenMomof3	December 9, 2009	at 9lbs 5oz
Grits94	December 9, 2009	at 9lbs 12oz
LilHobbitsMama (?)	December 9, 2009	at 9lbs 15oz
BloggingFriends	December 9, 2009	at 9lbs 9oz
EmmiJune	December 10, 2009	at 10lbs 2oz
GinnaBear (?)	December 14, 2009	at 10lbs 6oz
xxxxx	xxxxxx	xxxxxx

YOUR GUESS GOES HERE!!

PS: I'm doing it by date, but not sorting poundage. I'm not THAT anal... LoL!! Also, I'm getting votes from people I don't know. I put question marks beside them, because maybe I do know you, but you didn't use your Xanga handle when commenting? Not sure...

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Wednesday, December 02, 2009

Wed, 02 Dec 2009 15:19:14 GMT

So Not Bagging It

Yesterday I said that I was fizzling out on crocheting. And you peoples... (('make my ass twitch'... sorry, that's the natural progression of that statement for anyone who's ever seen Kevin Kline in 'French Kiss'.)) But you DO!! You people are eeeeevil! I was supposed to be winding down, not finding new ideas, getting all excited and pulling out MORE yarn! What kind of help are you, anyhow?! ((snort!))

It's MOSTLY my friend 'V's fault (<< and I love calling her that, because it reminds me of 'V is for Vendetta', and if I'm friends with 'V' that's way kewl. Just saying. Me being the AnnaMatrix and all...) Anyhow my friend's Xanga handle is FiberAddict... as in FIBER... yarn. Thread. Needles. EVIL woman. She sent me yarn she spun herself. Sent me needles. Sends me links... like the link to Crochet Pattern Central yesterday. And I spent THREE HOURS over there, because of her. ((sniffs inelegantly)) You're not contributing to my productivity, I'll have you know...

Did you know that you can make 'yarn' out of an old t-shirt? Yeah, it's true. You just cut it in a thin strip around and around and around and around and around... and you have 'yarn'. This lady made a bag out of it. An old t-shirt! That is just... crazy whack!

Did you know that you can make 'yarn' out of grocery sacks and in the process recycle?! The tutorial for how to make the 'plarn' (plastic yarn) is here, and it looks really very simple. One lady used bread bags to do it, and got a transparent look. Another used brown plastic bags and got a 'jute' look (link)... which I personally love and am planning on trying - because I need a beach bag for at the lake, and plastic wouldn't be any big deal to get wet! I have more white sacks, though, so I'm now ALSO thinking about making a clothespin bag for my laundry line, too - it won't weather like cloth, will dry superfast, and won't fade! ((I'd make mine with a flap to keep the water out, though, I think...))

Do you SEE what you've STARTED!??!?!

And speaking of jute, did you know you can crochet jute and get a very durable, rather unique bag, too? Take a look at this .pdf of a jute bag! Isn't it kewl looking? ((I wish I were that thin...))

And I mentioned a flap on my clothespin bag... well, there's an 'envelope' bag (link) that would make an even BETTER X-mess gift for the banshee trio, and would be almost too easy to do... matching bags and headbands/earcover things, maybe? I don't know, but now my brain-type things are working...! My kids broke my hammock this past week... what if I crocheted a hammock out of plarn? It might be a month-long project, but can you imagine? Hrm!

What I've *REALLY* wanted for a long, LONG time, though, is a shoulder bag big enough for all my stuff that has literally dozens of pockets. DOZENS. And when I saw this garden bag (link), the wheels in my head started kicking into overtime. How hard would it be to MAKE a big ol' bag?

Well, this grocery sack (link) has illustrations that show it to be VERY easy, come to find out. I'd want the pockets (two-tiers of them!) on the inside, though... maybe one on each end, and a flap pocket on one side. Now I'm designing... thinking... creating... this is NOT a good thing. C'mon...! Like I have TIME for this stuff?!

BTW, just so's you know, I'm on-line a LOT less when I'm doing these kinds of projects. You're just shooting yourselves in the foot, you know. More ideas means less time to approve comments, blog, and research. You really should've thought of that BEFORE sending me off to look at all of this stuff...

SECOND DAY OF DECEMBER!!
((And we're going to a more festive background for the season!))

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Tuesday, December 01, 2009

Tue, 01 Dec 2009 15:38:27 GMT

Tids N' Tads

G'morning. I know I've been doing a TON of these lately, but there really is SO MUCH going on in real life that I want to rant/gush about... you'll live. Maybe even learn something. That's always good, too.

Wool Blankets. About four months ago, I got it in my head that I needed wool blankets for our survival cache. Wool is NOT cheap, or easy to find, but I (naively) figured I could go to Young's Army Surplus store and find them. And I did - they had two kelly green, used army blankets. Forty dollars a piece. I stopped short, blinked twice, and walked out of the surplus store. They're INSANE!! But honestly? I've been looking regularly on Craigslist, and you just can't find them. I do have one - my mom found several at a yard sale or thrift shop once, and gave one to me, one to my brother, (possibly one to my sister, but I'm guessing) and kept one, herself. But I wanted a FEW of these. Wool keeps in body heat and keeps moisture out. It's the kind of thing you want if you're out in the elements, or in an emergency situation (like a car accident or something). Really insanely great stuff. So imagine my geekage this morning when Bison (a survival snark I read/snort at daily) shared that there's a deal going on at Sportsman's Guide for product # lx9m-48395 or lx9m-86812... which is FOUR wool blankets for $60. Whoa! Merry Christmas, Anna, you're getting wool blankets as your present! ((I also found a good deal on ammo for my rifle, which I've had two years and don't have a single round for. I'd kind of like to try shooting it, so this is good news!))

Gander at a Glock. Meanwhile, we priced .380 ammo at Wal-Mart the other day (which, btw, is THE cheapest place to buy ammo)... and 9mm bullets are THREE TIMES cheaper than the .380 ammo, now. I don't know why... yes I do. I read on a survivalist chick's site that Obama has made it illegal for the US government to sell used ammo to the public anymore - they're selling it to China now, instead. Which is why it's nearly IMPOSSIBLE to even find some calibers... I've been SoL on my .380 hunt for almost a year, now. So ammo has skyrocketed. Anyhow, because 9mm is cheaper and more readily available, I'm having to consider putting Bersa away. I hate to - I love her. I don't LIKE the thought of toting around a 9mm. But Obama hasn't given me a choice, apparently. So I was reading that survivalist chick's site (she tours the US giving seminars on armed women and women's self-defense), and she said the Glock is the only gun you can clean simply by running it thru the dishwasher. And then she POSTED a picture of her NINE Glocks in her dishwasher! And I thought... well, everyone raves about Glocks, even though I thought they were chunky and plastic-toy looking and stOOpid... maybe that's what I'm going to have to suck it up and go with. So now I'm thinking I should go down to Gander Mountain and take a gander (haha) at Glocks. I'm sure they have SOMETHING with a smaller grip for my little femmy hands... We'll see how the income tax return looks come March.

Spray Speak. In the meantime, yesterday after my OB appt I went down and bought my first-ever canister of pepper spray. I've never carried anything like that before - something non-lethal. Guns and knives, yes, but never anything like that. But I'm going into a hospital, and that's a no-firearm zone (which PISSES me off - what about my Constitutional right to bear arms, hello!?). Anyhow, I refuse to allow this nation to strip me defenseless. So I'm going in armed, just not with my .380. I'm kind of giddy about adding something to my weapons 'cache', anyhow. Since a Glock is a LITTLE pricey... and honestly, I don't NEED one. I'm happy with my own little collection of guns as it is, truth be told. Brian - who has owned guns all his life thinks I'm so silly for cautiously working my way up, studying stopping power, caliber, etc. Anyhow, what I'd REALLY like to add next are some handcuffs. ((What do you do with the guy you spray? Let him stumble off, a free man?)) But that's down the road. Maybe next X-mess? LoL!!

Coffee Creamer. This is the time of year that the holiday flavors come out for coffee. I always go a little splurgy over this. Last year I got 'Raspberry White Chocolate', 'Mint Truffle', and 'Vanilla Spiced Rum'. This year I got 'Vanilla Caramel Brownie' (!!) and 'Pumpkin Pie Spice'. Typically I'm a tea drinker, but there's just something about these creamers that... well, call to me! So there's coffee in the pot, and mmm, am I lovin' having the creamy flavored coffee!

BK Bonus! Shocker that it is, Burger King got the 'Twilight: New Moon' advertising rights, and I saw that there were going to be crowns with Edward, Bella, and Jacob on them. So we'd been frequenting BK a little more than usual, figuring they'd come out around the time the movie was released. They weren't. And then when they were, you could only get a 'Twilight' crown if you bought a gift card... and of course EVERYONE bought gift cards, and the BK we were going to was sold out immediately. ((Wild!)) Anyhow, last night we were in town for pictures, and had to go somewhere for supper, and there's a BK in my favorite 'burb that NOBODY ever eats at, so we went there. Just to see. The lady at the counter hesitated when I asked about the crowns. "We're supposed to sell them with gift cards." The minimum you can put on a gift card is $5. Well, for my family of six, we run up a $19 bill at BK, so I said, "I'll take one of each, then." I'll just use them to pay for our meal next time we wind up at BK, no? AND we got FOUR crowns!! ((I'll cut the pictures out and put them in my scrapbook with our movie ticket stubs, because I'm anal like that.)) AND...! I got four cards with nicer pictures on them. AND...! As I paid, she pulled out two packets with collector cards. I'd never SEEN them before, and asked her what this was. She said, "We're supposed to only give them away with Burger Shots, but nobody orders them, and we've got a ton of these, so if anyone comes in interested in 'Twilight', I just give them out. HOW NICE!!!

Photo Phloppage. ((<<I know, I spelt it funny, and it's not really a word, on top, but you'll live.)) Well, last night's family photo outing SUCKED. Yet again. I'd hoped that Target would be a step up from K-Mart, Meijer, and Wal-Mart... it's not, it's a step DOWN. The chick (I swear she was only 20 years old) was brainless, completely lacking in imagination and creativity, and took pictures with half the kids' heads chopped off because she liked 'close-ups'. ((!!!)) At Walmart, as they take the picture, it pops up on a screen, so you can see if someone closed their eyes or pulled a face or something, and they'll delete it and do it over right there while everyone is posed and ready. Here, she just snapped and snapped and when she was done, whatever she had on her digital SLR was what you were stuck picking from out in the office.

Who are They?! And the pictures do NOT look like our kids. It was crazy. Same thing happened last year with Lydia. I don't know why they can't take a moment and get to know the kids, watch them, see what they look like. Instead they insta-pose them and whatever fake, weird expression is on their face, that's what they consider 'normal'. We chose from the ones that looked the slightest bit like our kids, but those were NOT pictures of Isaac OR Lydia. One had baby Aaron with his back arched (I was holding him in place from the side), like he was being shoved into the picture. Another had him with his shirt pulled up and bunched around his chest. Like you can't SEE there's a problem?!? I was NOT impressed. Oh, and the 'sale'. It's printed in their package book, so it's not really a 'sale', it's one of those 'oh, look, aren't you lucky, we're having a SALE!' promos that never end, so that's actually their price, they're just LYING to you. ((!?)) Anyhow, so it's over. We've tried them all, and I have to say that Wal-Mart is the best. ((K-Mart and Meijer and Sears are all Olin Mills and they BLOW.)) I really should just put up a studio in the basement... I'm a fantastic photographer, and could do a better job of it, myself. Ooh, wait, there are SNAKES in my basement, now. ((((SIGH!)))) I am so screwed...!!

Crocheted Out! I'm puttering out of my crocheting blitz. I've got fingerless gloves for me, Lydia, Isaac, Ethan, and Aaron done, a baby sweater, and I'm wrapping up with a matching scarf for Lydia for X-mess. Some woman (in my town!) listed two bags for free yarn on Freecycle Sunday, but I haven't heard from her, and that's kind of bummed me out (a 'yea' or 'nay', but please at least have the courtesy to respond!). I suppose it's a good thing, because I'm a) terrified of hats, and Brian's pushing me to make those, next, and b) I have X-mess cards and baby announcements coming up, and would have to take a break, anyhow. But my week-and-a-half long blitz was productive, so all was not lost, eh? I might force myself to do two more sets of fingerless gloves (for critter tending purposes), but then it'll probably be shelved for a while. Or not - I may still make fingerless gloves for the banshee trio... should the mood strike me. ((wink!))

Hey, hey, hey Snowflake! Unless this lady's sell of crocheting snowflakes wins me over. Her post is here, and her re-work of the pattern is here. Just in case you were interested. ((wink!))

Homeschool Series. I wanted to do a 'Schooling on the Stead' series here on the blog, chronicling my journey from information gathering to trial and error to schedules and ideas to what we do now. But do you have ANY idea how controversial homeschooling is? I'm SO going to open a huge bucket of worms if I do this. Because even though it's MY site and MY opinion, people always get burrs up their bottoms and totally go off when they feel attacked, and pretty much anyone who public schools and reads about homeschooling feels attacked immediately. And... well, okay, I kind of do attack the laziness, selfishness, and unsound reasoning of public school proponents, because it's offensive to me as a parent to see. Kind of like non-smokers who find smokers (and their second hand smoke) offensive - hello, the good Lord gave you a body and you're abusing it by filling it with cancer-causing substances that are not only expensive but destructive? Well, I'm a non-Public schooler who finds PS-ers offensive in that same way - hello, the good Lord gave you children and you're abusing them by handing them over to the government 8 hours a day, 230 days a year to be programmed with stuff you have NO say in that is agenda based and destructive to home, faith, and liberty. Whoops... see? There I go. Maybe I shouldn't do a Homeschool series, eh...? I'm two posts into trying to put it together, and already I can just SEE the flames coming out of people's ears...

Long Song. This song is long. Quiet, Thing, you sing too long! ((<<Dr. Seuss reference.)) But I have. Gone on too long, that is. So I guess that's it for today. Hoping to have pictures for you tomorrow from the Photo Phlop session - they said 24 hours and they'd appear in my e-mail inbox, so that'd be tonight. But anyhow, there's where my thoughts have been.

FIRST DAY OF DECEMBER!!
((The baby pool will be at the bottom of the front page
daily after this. And tonight is the full moon - yipes!!))

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