vaginally

I lied to my boss the other day. Yep. Right to his face.

See, I had told him about the egg donation (obviously, since I'll need time off) and he said he was interested and curious and did I mind if he asked a few questions. I said of course not - pretty much everybody I have told (you know, besides the entire internet) has asked questions. I'm figuring he'll ask what most people have: Do you know the couple you are donating to? What made you decide to do an egg donation? Stuff like that.

Well. That wasn't what he asked. He asked, "How do they retrieve the eggs?" And I just kind of went, "Ummm . . ." for a couple of seconds, and he continued, "Do they do it surgically, actually make an incision?" And I said, "Yes. Yes they do."

Which is a total lie. But I simply could not bring myself to say the word "vaginally" to my boss. Dude, he's like my dad's age. Plus I've known him for what, six weeks or so? I just couldn't do it. So there you go, that's where the title of the post is coming from. If you Googled your way here looking for something else, well, sorry about that.

While I'm on the topic, the egg donation process is moving right along. I'm having checkups a couple times a week now, for bloodwork and ultrasounds, and it looks like the whole thing will happen next week, maybe Wednesday-Thursday-ish. I'm excited about it . . . and also kind of looking forward to the whole thing being finished, I have to admit. All the poking and waiting and testing and yeah, especially the poking - it's a lot. I'm still happy I'm doing it, and I would still encourage more people to do it, but I will be glad when I'm done.

And hey, maybe I'll blog that day, while I'm all groggy and weird from anesthesia. That could be fun, right? :)

slipping

Do you know what Boswash is? I mean, without going and Googling it?

Yeah, me neither. FYI, it's the megalopolis formed by the cities along the east coast from Boston to Washington. Makes sense, I suppose. And although the teacher, not to mention the big geek, in me would think it's pretty cool - no, I am not starting some sort of Fact of the Day thing around here. Really, like I'd keep that up. I bring the Boswash thing up for a reason, and I'll get there in a minute, just bear with me.

Those of you with kids, or kids-to-be (hi, JayJay!) either know or can look forward to those days when your kids are little and you are infallible. You are the smartest, coolest person in the world. The music you like totally rocks. There is nothing you can't do, and nothing you don't know. Your kisses heal wounds, for pete's sake. And everybody also knows that it simply does not last. Somebody lets them in on the secret that parents are actually normal human beings. So not fair.

Lately we've had a spate of what you might call Teenager Moments around here. The thing is, I don't have a teenager. I have a 9-year-old. Fine, he's nearly 10, but still. The other day, I was looking over the tests his teacher had handed back to him, and I noticed that he had gotten a bonus question on one of them right, which was "name five cities along Boswash." So I said, "What's Boswash?" He gave me this look - honestly, "withering" is the only way to describe it - and said, "You don't know Boswash?" (For those of you who don't know Big Brother, he has this deep, kind of monotone voice. Since everything he says already sounds sarcastic, the effect was really just heightened by this.)

And, I took him out to buy a cd (we had a deal involving the breaking of a bad habit - way to go, Big Brother!) and he picked out a cd I had never heard. He picked out something by a Cool Band that his Parents Don't Know. Fall Out Boy, if you wanted to know, and yes, I did look over the lyrics. Because I am not a cool mom. See?

And lastly, take a look at this:

Those are last year's and this year's school pictures. Can you believe that? Fourth grade: crew cut, polo shirt buttoned all the way up, glasses, silly grin. Fifth grade: long hair, no glasses, band tee shirt. What a difference a year makes.

Well, there's the evidence. My oldest son's little-kid-ness is slipping away. It's not completely gone. He still loves those matchbox cars, and the other day, when riding in the car and giggling with his sister he said, "Baby Sister, you're making me laugh too hard. Oh, my guts!" Maybe not a Cool Teenaged thing to say. But here's the best part: he's still a great kid. Whatever that little kid is being replaced with, it may be different, but I think I'll like it.

shoot - I missed it!

I missed my own blogiversary, can you believe it?

As of January 12, I had officially been blogging for a whole year. This might not be a big deal for a person who still has that battered, dog-eared journal that chronicles their teenage years, but I am a person who still has a few pristine, mostly empty journals that chronicle a few weeks of a teenage year. So keeping this up for this long is pretty surprising for me. If only I had known the secret to maintaining a journal: let other people read it. But then everybody would have known that I thought Andy was cute and that Renee and I spent all of French class passing notes with random song lyrics on them and boy that Jess was a total bitch. (Ha! Just kidding on that last one.)

Anyway, I just wanted to do a quick post to commemorate, and because I have been rather neglectful of the blog lately (ergo, missing my blogiversary). (Is "neglectful" a word?) I'll even be super-cheesy and link to my first post, in which I am very boring. And I will offer a promise to post more substantially later, really.

It's not like the journals, I swear.

mostly spinning

Well, phew. That was a false alarm. The computer is fine; if you want more details J left a rant at his own foolishness in the comments. I think all the around-the-house projects are wearing on him, poor guy.

I'm totally going to write about spinning to day, because I haven't posted any spinning since November, but first I want to show you this:

That came in the mail last week; it's the medications I'll be using to get ready for the egg donation. Scary-looking, right? I was overwhelmed when I first saw how much stuff was there, but on closer examination it seems the pharmacy just sends a lot of extras. Not extra medication, but extra needles, alcohol wipes, gauze pads (which I don't need), ginormous terrifying mixing needles (which I also don't need), etc. I've actually already done three injections so far. They're all subcutaneous as opposed to intramuscular, so it's not bad at all. The needles are very short and very fine, and it really doesn't even feel like anything. Up until last night, I had not noticed any side effects, either, but I woke up about 4:00 this morning feeling very crampy and uncomfortable. I don't even know for sure that it was related to the medication, although I don't know what else it would be, but it was not particularly fun. After getting up, eating, and moving around a bit I feel a lot better, though.

So that's where the egg donation process stands so far. The nurse says the actual retrieval will probably be at the end of this month, but they won't know exactly when until it is much closer. I'm a little nervous about that part, I confess. I find that comparing it to childbirth in my head makes it seem a lot less daunting. But enough about all that - how about some spinning?

I haven't been spinning all that much lately, unfortunately, but it doesn't really matter for the purposes of this post. It's been so long since I talked about spinning I've still got a bunch of stuff to show you. Remember this wool? It was from a cormo/rambouillet/corriedale cross sheep named Ray. I bought it from artclub.etsy.com, and I overdyed the natural brown color with a little bit of orange. Here's the final result:

I think that's about a dk weight, and let me take a moment to say woo-hoo that my spinning has gotten consistent enough that I can say what weight it is without laughing out loud. Woo-hoo! I'll enjoy it while it lasts, because I found that spinning a whole new fiber is something akin to starting all over again. Here's a skein of that wonderful soft squishy birthday alpaca:

It's much more uneven than the wool, but I'd call it maybe a heavy worsted or chunky weight. It was a completely different experience to spin, much more slippery and it shed like crazy. The slipperiness made it go really fast, though, which was cool. And the skein itself? Just incredibly soft. I've still got a bunch of the alpaca left, so I'm hoping when it's all spun up it will be enough for a sweater. Maybe this one, but I'm not sure yet.

The last yarn I've got to show you is perhaps not the prettiest, certainly not the softest, but I am nonetheless rather proud of it.

Do you know what that is? It's part of the fleece! That's yarn Jess and I washed, dyed, carded, and spun! We're totally Little Red Hen over here! (I washed the wool, I dyed the wool, I carded the wool, I spun the wool . . .) I was a bad blogger and I did not really document the process at all, but fear not! There is still a buttload (wool is measured in buttloads, did you know?) of raw fleece in my basement, plus about three-quarters of a buttload that's been washed but nothing else, so I will take lots of pictures and post about it next time. I pinky-swear, which apparently works, because the last thing I pinky-swore about on the blog got done. See?

Well, that's about all the spinning. I did start some of my Christmas wool, too, but there's not enough done to show. At the rate I'm going, I guess I'll post about spinning again some time in March!

But before I go, is there anything cuter than a stuffed alpaca, made from alpaca?

Perhaps not. :)

What, again? WTF??

Okay, I'm blogging from work which I probably shouldn't do so I shall be brief.

We're rearranging furniture in our living room, to try and make things look a bit less, well, craptastic, and in doing so we plan to move our computer over a little bit. Not far, maybe about five feet. It will still be in the northeast corner of the room, but on the east wall as opposed to the north wall, to be probably way too specific. However, the cable wasn't long enough. No problem, J went out and picked up some more cable and some connectors and fixed it all up. Except now the modem is being cranky and we have no internet. Again. Thus ensued a ridiculously lengthy discussion of exactly how old the modem is, said discussion encompassing, among other things, in what order we re-did the rooms of the house after moving in, where J was and what he was doing while the cable guy was installing the modem, when I graduated from college, the ugly yellow couch in our basement, and J's truck. We think it's between four and five years old. Is that old, for a modem? I don't know. Sigh.

So what do you think, was it NaBloPoMo? I blogged everyday for a month therefore my ability to blog must be compromised for the next two months? Sigh again.

birthday girl

This is just a quick little post to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my fabulous sister!

Crazy Aunt Nancy, as she is known to my children (a name she gave herself, btw, even if it is fitting), is funny and cool and the best person to call with a fashion issue. She knows way more about music than anybody else I know, and she makes family get-togethers both a lot louder and a lot more entertaining. Even though we are so very different, I love having a sister so close to my own age, a person to call when a memory strikes me and nobody else will appreciate it but her.

I alluded in my last post to her harrowing experience while babysitting my boys - in which my well-meaning mother insisted that she wash Baby Sister's diapers while she was watching the boys, as a nice little favor for me. Dude - if you have never experienced the washing of cloth diapers, I'm sure you can at least imagine it. J doesn't even go near this job. Oh, he'll change them, but after they are off the baby they're all mine. Poor Auntie Nancy described her laundry room horror - she was almost in tears - complete with her snarky little nephews laughing their heads off at her. "What do you mean, you're never having babies? Babies are cute." Really, the girl deserves a medal.

So, happy birthday Nancy! Hey - you know what I did shortly after turning 28? I started a blog! *hint, hint* :)

It's 3:45 am and I'm blogging about knitting.

Just so you know, in case there's lots of typos.

Baby Sister woke up a little while ago and needed to be held. She's asleep now (I think), but I am most certainly not. I could go lie in bed and stare into the dark and maybe listen to a podcast and not sleep, but this seems more productive. Plus I haven't posted anything about knitting in forever.

This time, right after Christmas, might just be the very best time in the knitting year. There's new goodies, maybe some gift cards burning the proverbial hole in one's pocket (guess who went to Webs yesterday!!), and most importantly, the Christmas crunch is over. I've still got stuff on the needles for a couple of January birthdays, but that deadline just doesn't seem as troublesome. This time just seems really full of promise, knitting-wise.

At this time last year, I was making myself a pair of Fetchings. They were the very first thing I ever knit in the round - one on double-points, and one magic loop, to see which I liked better - and the very first time I used really nice, non-chain-craft-store yarn. It was some pretty handpainted merino I got on eBay; I've still got a bit left. It's hard to believe how much I've learned in the past year - honestly, what did I do before knitting?

I also mention those Fetchings because what am I working on right now? More Fetchings. These are in Berroco Ultra Alpaca for my sister's birthday on Friday. I had already made her a cabled neckwarmer with the same yarn, but I gave her that early because she picked up the boys from school during the week before Christmas and she had one rather harrowing experience (I should give that its own post; it was pretty funny). Anyway, she deserved a thank-you gift. There was enough of the yarn leftover for the matching gloves, plus a book, to be her birthday gift. Right now the first is done except for the thumb, and the second is just past the cables at the wrist. These go crazy fast. Oh yeah, magic loop won out, by the way.

Although I didn't plan it to be all cutesy or anything, I made some fingerless gloves in gray for my sister's boyfriend, too. These were for Christmas, and sort-of loosely based on the Knucks pattern. Very loosely - I didn't actually use the pattern so much as the idea of fingerless gloves with "knuckle tattoos." These spell out BORN 2SK8. I tried to work out getting my sister's name in there somehow, because we both would have found that really funny, but I couldn't do it. Also he may not have actually worn them. In the picture, the adult-sized gloves are modeled by 9-year-old boy hands, so you kind of have to use your imagination.

Fear not, though, those 9-year-old boy hands shall not go un-warmed. Big Brother got some nifty flip-top mittens. I was totally making these up as I went along, and I'm very pleased with the way they came out. He is, too. I used the same yarn as for the gloves I just mentioned, which was the Knitpicks Bare that Jess and I dyed up a little while ago. It was supposed to be solid black, but it turned out this semisolid gray-black. Which I love even more.

Little Brother will be getting some of these, in orange, very soon. I pinky-swear.

The very last Christmas present I got done was a felted laptop cover for my dad. It was super last-minute; I felted it the day I gave it to him and it was actually still a little damp. This was very stupid and risky, I know, due to the unpredictability of felting, but I think (hope) it will fit the laptop okay. He thought it was pretty cool, anyway, so that was good.

Lastly, I can't do a knitting post today without mentioning the fact that Big Brother has been doing some knitting again!

Um, I'm not sure why he knits topless. (And no, J, I'm not going to do the same.) He's working on a wristwarmer for himself out of this fuzzy, shiny, silver yarn he picked out. It's sort of chain-mail-meets-bunny-slippers, you know? It's actually been put away for a little while but I just couldn't resist sharing the pictures. I hope he will pick it up again, and I think he probably will. He has clearly inherited the knitting gene; a little while ago he said to me after tidying up his room, "You know, I have a pretty big stash for my age." Said stash has since shrunk - apparently he didn't tidy up particularly well and a half-skein of Lion Brand wool ended up in the laundry. Want to see what an entire ball of yarn looks like when you felt it?

Don't worry, he wasn't upset; he thinks it's hilarious. As do I, to tell the truth.

Well, it's now getting close to 4:45 and I'm thinking I ought to try to get in a little bit of sleep. It is New Year's Eve, after all, and I usually at least attempt to see the ball drop. See you next year!