The reason why this scarf is called The Potato Chip scarf is becuase, apparently, you can’t make just one. There must be something wrong with me becuase unless I get a specific request, this will be the one and only scarf I make.

Yeah, it’s cute and yes, it was nice to use two whole balls of yarn out of my stash to make it.

this is the third time I’ve knitted on this scarf. Scarf one was done only in black, in the reccomended yarn and gauge. It was TINY. There was no way I could wear it. I hardly came down over my ladies. After a while of thinking if over, I ripped it out.

Decided I’d do two color stripes. Sounded good. Cast on. Decided to double my original stitches to give it better length. Realized before I even got through my second repeat that the amount of stitches was bordering on stupid, so I ripped that out.

Upped my needle size to 10.5 and got the frilly thing you see here. I used all the fushia and nearly all of the black. The small amount I’ve saved will either be turned into a cat toy (I beleive this is a wool blend) or as salvage for my sock cast on.

Today was my fifth ultrasound. Four more than I had with Emily and two more than my OB practice actually gives routinely. Thankfully, this ultrasound will act in place of my 32 week ultrasound, so hopefully this is the last one.

The news, IMO, was mixed this appt. My placenta has moved up into a safe position, which is great news. Cadence is growing well and doing great.

My blood pressure has gone up some, which is a little concerning to me (I’ve always had low blood pressure), but is not a concernt to the doctor.

The mixed news, is that due to my braxton hicks and pressure, Doc did an internal and my cervix is soft. It’s not uncommon, but I’m to come back in two weeks to check to see if its progressed any.

What all of this means will remain to be seen, of course.

Developmentally, Cadence is measuring 2 weeks ahead, growth wise. THe doctor estimates she may weigh as much as 8 lbs. According to developmental sites, she’s now capable of breathing, should she be born. She’s growing hair and has eyelashes and eyebrows and she’s gaining body fat. Weight wise, she’s probably nearly three pounds now, based on her 2 weeks ahead estimate. Her chance if survival, if born now, is very good. 92%. Of course, we’d like Cadence to cook a good while longer.

Cadence says, right on!

Emily has a rather….temperamental relationship with the neighborhood girl (aka Miss Five). The two of them get along well, but Miss Five and Emily both appear to be serious Micromanagers and Miss Five has, what another neighbor calls, a scrappy streak.

For the past several weeks, Miss Five has been hitting or pushing every day. Emily is mortified. Sometimes Miss Five hits so hard that Emily has hand prints on her through her clothes, so I have no doubt it hurts her, but most of all, she’s not dealt with life in a hitting household. We just. don’t. hit. We realized years ago that spankings didn’t affect Emily nearly at all and made Eric and I feel like shit, so we don’t do it.

Naturally, Emily tries to slap at us, at times, when she gets angry which is a fairly normal childhood response and we’ve worked to teach her that you don’t hit people or hurt people out of anger or whatever. So, needless to say she hasn’t known what to make of this violent thing coming out of her little friend.

Emily also takes great pride and care with her possessions. Miss Five is more reckless, tossing things down stairs and slam dunking Ella into the street. Emily’s made the decisions that Miss Five isn’t allowed to play with a good portion of her toys.

On Weds. Emily and MIss Five ere playing in the garage. Miss Five tore Emily’s coloring book. From the outside, I though I heard a cat fight, but Emily was squalling at Miss Five for ripping her book and hitting her (left another handprint) and then Emily reared back kicked Miss Five right in the solar plexus.

I opened the garage door in time to see this. Then I started to squall (I sort of sound like an emergency siren). I ordered Emily into her bedroom UNTIL HER FATHER GOT HOME and Miss Five took off running.

Eric got home and I’m disolvved into tears and Emily is still squalling upstairs. I was shocked to see her react so violently towards Miss Five, even if I don’t think Emily was wrong, per se, in her reaction. It’s just that behavior like that has never happened in our home. There are no siblings here to get into squabbles and then fights and chances are good, with the age distance between Emily and Cadence (and the fact they’re both girls) the idea of them being violent seems pretty small. Girls are less prone, I think and particularly girls nearly seven years apart.

Eric explained to Emily that hitting, kicking and pushing is never okay, but in defense, sometimes, it’s what you have to do. I hate having to have those talks witht her. I really do. I knew that one day we’d be dealing with influences on her that didn’t come from us and that she’d learn things we didn’t want her to learn (or at least learn in that way). She’s done the right thing. She’s turned the other cheek for three weeks. She’s absorbed being hit hard and pushed down and finally, she reacted (in a way Eric was rather proud of because Emily is long of leg and can kick from much further than she can hit).

I know that all o f this is normal kid stuff. I really do. But, we’ve been in sort of a bubble for the last several year, existing with Emily and not much or any peer influence. It’s been nice, but we’ve been spoiled.

Emily has decided once today that she won’t play with Miss Five, but now she’s heading out again, to do what, who know.

Ah, the benefits of being an at home mom. ;o) Emily and I had to run an errand near Ikea today and since we were so close, decided to stop in for lunch and a little shopping.

I got a new throw rug for the kitchen and Emily found a cute stuffed kitty cat (she complained that it was spelled Katt on the label. I tried to explain that Ikea is a Swedish store and chances were pretty darn good that in Swedish cat is spelled katt. “Do you HEAR two ts??” she insisted at me.).

I found a beautiful duvet cover for Cadence.

It just felt like the right choice. Great colors, so we can pick anything and just enough whimsy.

We also picked up an adorable pink dragon fly light mobile for Cadence and a string of big, pink lighted flowers for Emily.

I love Ikea.

Oh, and 5 packages of 4×6 picture frames I can paint black for .99 a two pack. Great deal. I found places to get black frames in bulk, but no 4×6 so this starts to solve a dilemma in regards to that (the idea is to paint my walls a perfect brown and then put all of my pictures up in black frames–I know everyone is doing it, but I love the look…).

Going there today was such a big stuff for me. I still struggle with anexity about being out by myself. We didn’t stay LONG, but it’s a big start for me. Hooray!

I find social experiments interesting. I like to watch people, o observe them and see what they’ll do and what will happen. I think it’s why I like reality t.v.–under duress, how will people act?

Over time, though, I’ve grown tired of an interesting trend among women–the pissing match.

Oh, you may call it something else–competitiveness or similar, but it all means the same thing.

I admit to spending time in Internet message boards. I like them. I find them amusing (see above about social experiments) and I like a good time waster. Most of the boards I visit are made up of memberships of nearly all women. You need a rubber rain slicker and boots to ensure you don’t get wet from all of the pissing contests going on there.

What sort of contests are prevelent?

1) My husband/boyfriend/significant other is a BIGGER tool than YOUR boyfriend/husband/significant other

2) My Mother-in-law/Sister-in-law/various relative is a BIGGER witch than YOUR mother-in-law/sister-in-law/various other relative

3) My pregnancy/baby/children are more draining than YOUR pregnancy/baby/children

4) My boss is meaner

5) My house is crappier/dirtier/smaller

6) My pain is bigger than your pain (may also be filed under my grief is bigger than your grief OR my row is harder to hoe than our row OR my sob story is sadder).

Now, I do understand the need to gripe. Totally. It’s why I visit message boards and have friends. Sometimes I need someone to talk to (though I make it a point to NOT talk badly about Eric. I don’t agree with that idea) or to just bitch at about various issues that they can’t do anything about. I think we all do, but the competition is so….boring. Pointless. Pathetic.

In addition to these pissing matches you have the “you should be grateful” women. This is really just more entrants into the contest, but they’re being passive agressive with their entry.

1) At least your HAVE a husband/mother/father/brother in law/mother in law/dog/cat/ bird/hermit crab. My wonderful husband/mother/father/brother in law/mother in law/dog/cat/bird hermit crab is gone.

2) At least you’re pregnant/walking/moving/mobile/not paralyzled. I can’t get pregnant/have no legs/can only move my left eyebrow

3)People would be happy to have your crappy job. I/my husband/my baby daddy has been unemployed for and would love to clean toilets with toothbrushes for tips.

It goes on and on and one.

Why must we, as woman first and human beings second, do this? Why can’t someone say “I’m tired, I can’t bend over, my braxton hicks hurt like a sunnovabitch and I swelled outt of my favorite shoes” without someone else having it worse or worse still, pointing out how someone doesn’t have a right to complain because someone else would give anything to have those problems.

And you know, at times I find myself doing it too. Sometimes I have to bite my tounge (or my typing fingers) to keep from admonishing someone for complaining about something missing from MY life or something I wish I had. For being snide about how badly *I* have something–for what purpose, I don’ know. To make myself feel better that I’ve managed to trump someone having a bad time?

I don’t know. I think some of it IS passive agressive bullshit and I’m trying to avoid that now at all costs.

Pardon the crappy picture. I just wanted to get the shot done without much arguement.

You may, or may not, be able to tell that the purse matches Emily sundress that I posted about yesterday. :O) I found a great, easy pattern and threw the purse together nearly as quickly as the sundress itself. I stabilized the handles and bottom with plastic cross stitch canvas. The purse doesn’t stand up on it’s own, but Emily doesn’t mind and it looks pretty good for a prototype. She’s asking if I can make a purse to match the other presmocked stuff we have sitting up here. I think that’s very possible.

I’ve been pondering hte pattern of the baby fern washcloth and think it could be adapted for socks. I tried making Falling Leaves late last year/early this year, but the pattern was all wrong. I couldn’t reduce it in a manner to fit my foot and it’s relaly bulky and not lace at all. The baby fern looks like a good option, but it does mean frogging my other falling leaf sock which keeps ending up in the wash.

I cast on yesterday for a potato chip scarf. I ripped the black one I made out earlier this year becuase it was FAR too short. I’m working with two colors of yarn now and double the stitches. It’s SLOW knitting, but it’ll be cute when it’s done.

It’s been a while. My mojo has been slow to return. I admit it. I wish it were quicker to get here, but the amount of work I feel I need to do in order to have “permission” to be crafty is keeping me from just doing it. Eric won’t mind. Emily won’t mind. It’s me. I mind.

But, I managed to turn ou a couple of things.

First, a waved welt dishcloth

and a smaller sized Baby Fan dishcloth for none other but my baby who, 10 seconds after being gifted with her on Emmie sized dish cloth is in the kitchen, washing things with it. ;o)

lastly, we happened over to the Joann’s Etc in Vernon to buy this awesome presmocked material to make sundresses.

It’s so simple, I can’t believe how easy it was to make the dress. I stithed up the back, adjusted the length, hemmed it and made straps. It took no time at all to have it finished and Emily loves it. We have a green print with butterflies upstairs, pinned and ready to go. I just need to find time to spend a half an hour in front of the sewing machine to stitch it up. I highly reccomend this for beginning sewers–and, if you’re an adult and the dress it will make is too short, no problem. Turn it into a skirt. :o)

Today, Emily went outside and Eric finally hooked up our DVD player downstairs this weekend. I decided to pop in a movie while i was doing chores, etc and put in Gone with the Wind. I haven’t watched it in some time and it is still…

The Best Movie of All Time

I’m at the part where Scarlett seduces Frank Kennedy. Well, maybe not seduces but lures him away from Suellen, her sister, to get the taxes paid on Tara.

And you know, I’ve always been a Rhett girl. Ashely’s sweet and all, but he’s just not the right guy. It’s RHETT, Scarlett. How can you throw away Rhett for Ashely (and worst off, that miserable drip Frank Kennedy). We won’t even get into her marring Charles Hamilton for spite, although it seems necessary to get her together with Rhett.

The book Scarlett (and the movie for that matter) by Alexandra Ripley was disappointing and weird, even though Scarlett and Rhett DID get together in the end. But that whole O’Hara thing, burning people out of houses and shit (and another rescue) was just too much.

I realy don’t know if Rhett would have ever taken back Scarlett under any circustance. She hurt him too badly after the death of Bonnie, but I don’t think it would have come down like Ripley wrote.

But I do have a confession. As I was watching today I realized I’m a Rhett girl. When I was younger, I was desperate for Scarlett to hook up with Ashley, but now, I realize that Rhett is the MAN. And interestingly enough, there are parts of Eric that are Rhettesque. Just a little bit. A couple parts. Good parts.

Today, at 9:30 Emily peeked out the front door and noticed next door neighbor outtside collecting rollie pollie bugs in her pajamas. Emily, still in her nightie, went out side and has hardly been back in since. She came in a few moments ago, asking to have lunch and movies with the neighbor girl and I’m alone.

That’s not the gift.

The gift is , the six year age difference that I lamented is a blessing. Really.

Emily is moving away in little steps. She said that she couldn’t wait to spend all day with me, but that’s changing. I know that change happens. I remember it from my childhood.

But the gift I’ve been given is the space that is Cadence. I think if Cadence had come too quickly, I wouldn’t have recognized the beautiful of each age with Emily. Emily’s toddlerhood would have run into Cadence’s and it will have been gone in a matter of a few years. But now, I get to look forward to every little thing I loved about Emily and I get to have it all again with Cadence.