My motherboard is a mother******!

I’m posting away from home today.  The computer started acting a little funny and then just stopped.  We let a computer geek friend of ours take a look and the motherboard is shot, so there’s another $300 out the window.  It’s a real letdown because K-hubby has decided to go back to school, and we need to save up about a grand before summer session so we can pay for at least 2 semesters, using that time to save up for the next 2.  It’s all doable, like I said in my last post we are coming onto much better times than before, it just feels like something is always getting thrown at us!  Anyway, no picture for awhile because I can only do that at home, but I’ll still be posting as time permits, and as soon as everything is repaired I’ll just do a picture only post to get you all caught up on holiday decorations and the remarkable growth of K-baby.

Did I mention the last time he went to the doctor he was 3 feet tall and weighed 27 pounds?  That puts him in the 90th percentile for weight of other babies his age and puts him at the height of a 27-month-old.  A week later, the outfit he wore to the doctor didn’t fit him, so he had another growth spurt after that.  It really is phenomenal, and I’m not trying to be a stage mother, but it seems like the kid was built for athletics, so it will be really exciting to see what kinds of sports he enjoys as he gets older.

Christmas is almost here, and I am proud to say that all I have left is two and a half socks and two hats.  I actually mailed out Christmas cards this year and I plan on making peppermint bark and homemade jelly for the family.  I have been away from home for about 12 years now if you count college and I just felt like an adult this year when I put stamps on the Christmas cards and mailed them out.  When did you finally feel like a grown-up, or are you still waiting for that moment?

Getting closer…

We are so close to the end of 2008 I can taste it.  This year was so hard on us, so hard on a lot of people I know.  Friends facing foreclosures, auto repos, credit card delinquency.  It seems like we are going to pull out of this, and I can’t think of any other reason than God putting his arms around us and carrying us through the toughest year I think we have ever had to face as a married couple.

On December 31, 2007 K-hubby was laid off from his job, and sat at home for four months trying to find a way to get back into the workforce, get through his depression, and start making his way again.  I feel for any person that has gone through this because he was not the man I married.  He was a shell of himself, wandering around the house like a ghost.  We had to take money out of his retirement, and it still wasn’t enough.  He finally started working again, but it was second shift all the way in South Philly.  I never saw him and it was starting to feel like I was raising K-baby on my own.  When the stove broke, I had to find a way to fix it.  When Cocoa passed away (Cocoa was my cat.  Told you it was a bad year), I had to grieve alone, and try not to wake the baby.  We fought a flea infestation like I have never seen before.  Bills fell further and further behind. 

Still, there were small miracles.  When I recieved a repo notice for my truck, K-hubby got an extra paycheck.  When it seemed like our cards were going to charge off, he got a better job, close to home, with all the overtime he wanted to work.  When I thought my truck was going to run out of gas and the small car broke down, the gas prices dropped.  When I knew we couldn’t make rent and buy groceries, our landlord let us pay the rent in two checks, broken up through the month.  K-baby didn’t get sick.  Not once.  There were no extra medical bills, besides the stitches and prescriptions that come along with having a heavy equipment mechanic for a husband.  When I decided our marriage was over, hubby woke up and is still trying to get back to the man he was.

I guess I need to post this today because things have been getting a little weird around the house.  I am terrified that I will open the bank account and it will be overdraft, K-hubby has been really moody, and we are just at each others’ throats right now.  I couldn’t figure out why until K-hubby pointed out that we were coming up on the one-year anniversary of our lives being permanently changed, and our Puritan hardworking values being torn down and the hard work that it has taken to build them back up.  We lived so many years figuring that if we worked hard and we were honest and direct that we would be the last ones standing.  This year has proven to us that there is no such comfort, but it has also shown us that we can still power through the hard times, wallow in shit and come out smelling like a rose.

Tuesdays are usually for spinning.

Unless you get a virus.

And I don’t mean in the belly.

While I was away for the weekend visiting my brother (more on that later), Knithubby was playing around on the internets and wham!  Windows started flying open, nothing would stay, just flicker on and off…my quick thinking hubby grabbed the main power cord and off it went, but the damage was done.  The virus got into our Windows program, so the start bar would bounce on and off, icons would randomly disappear, and I couldn’t make it better.  I called Gateway, who informed me that my one-year limited warranty was expired, but they could help me for the low, low price of $59.95 for 30 minutes.  Are you freaking kidding me?  I don’t think so.  Monday night I tried to manually find and extract the virus, getting only 2 hours of sleep and having no success.  Last night I updated my anti-virus program, ran a sweep, found FOUR virus threads with 174 traces throughout, put the offenders in quarantine, and did a little google-fu to find a way to get rid of the interloper.  I found that MS Windows OneCare offers a 90 day free trial, so I installed the program (with broadband it only takes about 15-20 minutes), and let it do its thang.  In 5 minutes I was virus-free.  No lie.  I was so happy, I celebrated by going straight to bed.  I didn’t even correct the awful, awful Kitchener job I did on a pair of Christmas socks while at knit night on Monday.  That can be taken care of tonight.  Also, no spinning, but I have a new spindle on its way to me, so I imagine I will be spending a disproportionate amount of time this weekend making sweet spindley love to it.  (TMI?  Not to my spinning friends, it’s not!)

I have been working diligently on my Christmas knitting, but I must confess that my list is ever-changing and developing in response to my psychological needs.  For instance, Baby K was supposed to get a new sweater, but he will likely get a hat now.  My mother was going to get the February Lady sweater, which was downgraded to the Friday scarf, but will now likely be a pair of mittens, but in fair-isle, to give it that added value we all so desperately crave in our Christmas gifts.  I don’t know why we as knitters worry so much about the added value, most of our recipients’ don’t know the difference either way.  I mean, will my 6 year old niece understand the difference between a fair-isle or cabled tam versus a bulky weight wool cap?  Not likely, she is a good egg and will love it and wear it either way, but I know.  I know I didn’t do the absolute most of my knitting ability on this cap.  So what?  I still took the time to knit her a gift, right?  It’s just not the same, and don’t ask me why, because I don’t know.

R had his open-heart surgery on Tuesday last week.  Everything went so well, even the doctors were amazed.  They said the aneurysm in the valve they replaced was so swollen that the valve was paper-thin.  It was a flat out miracle that he hadn’t already dropped dead.  That is the sort of medical anomaly that amazes me, I mean, somehow his heart held on long enough to get a replacement.  And the replacement valve itself!  It’s artificial, so it’s supposed to live for, like, 40 or 50 years!  Amazing!  He was sitting in his recliner on Sunday and I could hear it ticking (sounds like a wristwatch).  Amazing!  One of my buddies on Ravelry sent me a pattern for a knitted heart, and if I have time I am going to make it for him for Christmas…scratch that.  I AM making him one for Christmas.  Top of my list.  If anyone deserves added value this year, it’s him.

Ohhh, so many pictures!

Well, awhile back one of my favorite blog writers, Rachael at Yarn-a-Go-Go lost her dear mother.  I was so upset by this because there are so many aspects of her life that I identify with, and I just couldn’t put myself in her shoes.  I mean, what a loss, but she handled everything so gracefully and wrote about her mother with such kindness.  So, what’s a knitter to do but send out mass emails and get some squares together?

The verdict is, she loves it.  I am so glad!

I also have kept myself pretty busy with Christmas knitting, with a little time for spinning…

I think it is Crown Mountain Farms, but I must confess I have lost the band!  It is Merino/Tencel, and so shiny!  I got it at Rhinebeck 2006, and most of it was used for my first spinning, so this is only about 70 yards…what can I do with that?  Anyone?

I also have this going on…

This is BFL by Gale’s Art in “Festival,” picked up at MDSW 2008.  I really like this fiber, the colors are true, and I think the plying is going to make one awesome sock yarn…so much fun!

Here’s a few more pics, just for fun!

Did you ever make tents when it was rainy outside?  Knitbaby seems to love it!

Getting dragged around the kitchen by Daddy is the best!

Some fun at the park!  We have a GREAT park!

Have a great day, everyone!

Updates, a miracle, and some wake-up calls.

I know it has been a while since I posted last, and I am sorry, but sometimes it’s just hard to put the words together, you know?  My brother is doing so well, he was able to come home last Saturday and has very limited damage from the stroke.  The doctors determined he doesn’t need physical therapy at all, and only needs speech therapy once a week, thank God.  He has to go back next month for heart surgery to replace his aortic valve with an artificial one, so the focus right now is keeping him well-rested and in good spirits, and making sure he is in the best possible health when he goes under the knife.  The staff that is doing the surgery have high hopes because he has one of the healthiest hearts they’ve ever worked on.  He is not a typical heart patient with clogged arteries and layers of fat.  Turns out R has a birth defect that only opens his aorta in two places instead of four, so all this blood pooled behind the valve and a clot formed.  When he went running that morning the clot came loose and caused the stroke.  Here’s the first part of the miracle.  He was able to finish a three mile run, drive home, wake the kids up for school, and get a shower before the stroke symptoms started.  If he had the stroke out on the track it could have been hours before anyone found him, making the recovery far, far worse, and possibly even killing him.  Now, the second part of the miracle.  If he hadn’t had the stroke, the birth defect would have gone undetected until his aortic valve exploded from the pressure, killing him instantly.  Thank God for strokes.

Whenever I talked to people that know my brother, they almost always said, “It isn’t fair.  There are terrible people out there that live forever, and R works out everyday, is a good father, works hard to do the right thing, and he gets a stroke.”  Well.  First of all, if any of those terrible people out there had a stroke like R’s, they probably wouldn’t live through it.  R did so well because he works out and takes care of his body.  (Wake-up call #1.)  Second of all, if the stroke had killed him, he would be remembered for all his good traits and looked up to by anyone who knew him.  (Wake-up call #2.)  I know it doesn’t seem fair, but sometimes life isn’t fair.  People die whether they deserve it or not, and we have to make sure we are going to be remembered as the type of person who always did the right thing by pushing ourselves in our daily lives to make the most of what God has given us.  If I die today, who will remember me?  What will they remember me for?  I know I can’t have everyone like me, and I’m sure there are a couple people who would spit on my grave if they had a chance, but I can’t do anything about that.  I just have to focus on doing what is best for my family, being a good friend, working hard, keeping a reputation of honesty, and living according to my core values.  When I die, I want there to be no question in anyone’s mind about what I stood for and who I loved.

Along Comes Trouble.

So I’m cruising along life’s highway, trying to get the bills caught up, spending time with my family, constantly forgetting to pay the electric and trash, and BAM!  A phone call to let me know my brother had a stroke and is in the hospital getting tests done.  My brother is about 11 years older than me, so he became a state trooper when I was 9.  I remember how proud I was at his graduation when he walked across the stage in his dress uniform.  I would brag to all my friends that MY BROTHER was a state policeman, the best in the state.  I also remember the meetings we had to have as a family with other troopers who made sure we were prepared should we ever get the call.  If you have family in law enforcement or the military, you know THE CALL.  (Cue ominous music of doooom.)  Anytime I would get a phone call in the middle of the night, anytime someone started a conversation with, “Your brother R,” anytime we couldn’t get hold of him, I would prepare myself for the words.  Lately, he’s been having a pretty rough time of it.  He just had a baby in July (number four), who’s been diagnosed with failure to thrive.  They’ve had to drive him to AI DuPont hospital, get specialty formula, the works.  I know his stress has been at an all time high, and he shoulders it all in silence.  He has never been one to complain about his circumstances or want a lot of attention.  When he had a knee surgery a few years ago he didn’t want visitors or anyone coddling him.  He’s just that way.  So, when I got the phone call last night I was certain I was going to hear the words, either about him or the baby.  It was actually a relief to hear that it was a stroke.  How weird is that?  I was grateful that was all it was.  R is only 42, in great shape, runs marathons, eats better than anyone I know, and still this got him.  I just don’t even know what to think right now.

Here we go.

Okay, so it’s time for a little playground envy bitchery.  I take Knitbaby to a playground park in our neighborhood.  They have a huge jungle gym for the bigger kids, a bunch of swings, and a smaller jungle gym for the little kids.  I let Knitbaby swing on the baby swing for awhile, then he gets to play on the small gym.  I mean, he’s definitely bigger than most one-year-olds, so I don’t have any problem with him playing on the small gym.  He can totally climb the steps, and he knows how to go down the slide.  It does mean a lot of running from point A to point B for me, but I could stand to lose a few anyway, so no big deal.

Anyway, the other day we were out and about, and a family showed up with their little girl.  They put her in the baby swing, and the mother sat on the park bench while the dad pushed the swing.  Well, first of all, I can hear this dad talking to another dad about how old his little kid is.  It seemed like idle chitchat, so I didn’t really pay attention.  After a little while, I took Knitbaby over to the same park bench where this woman was sitting because that’s where I had the diaper bag and I figured he may want a snack.  While he’s drinking his milk and eating some cookies he climbs up onto the bench and is just kind of playing around in a random, I’m one and I don’t care what people think of me kind of way.  This woman says to me, “How old is he?”  I said he is one, and she said, “But how many months.”  Well, one.  “Okay, but when is his birthday?”  August.  He’s ONE.

I’m getting a little creeped out by the interrogation at this point, and then the dad turns around and said, “How old is he?” to the woman, not even speaking to me, the mother of the specimen in question.  OH, AND he was smoking a cigarette on the play-yard.  Smoke all you want, just keep it away from the kids.  Anyway, I had it at this point.  I mean, please!  I am so tired of making apologies that my kid is so much bigger than other kids!  I’m proud of the fact that he is so athletic, and he’s going to be big.  He just is.  Give me a break with this.  I’m so sick of telling other parents, “Well, his dad is 6′8,” in some sappy, don’t hate me because my kid’s big kind of tone.  Also, when I tell you how old my child is, don’t ask for his birthday like I’m lying to you or something.  I don’t even know you!  I have nothing to prove to you, mmkay?

Whatever, I’m just fed the fuck up with the playground politics bullshit.