I haven't been blogging much because I've been either too busy enjoying the beautiful weather, or super cranky hating on the spring-like weather. It's a beautiful night and I'm too lazy to go find the camera and upload the photos, but I wanted to drop in and mention what I'm up to. Since my ma in law will be bummed if she visits this post and there's no Jane picture (?!) here's one from a year ago tomorrow. One of those I can't believe it pictures.
Ari's doll is finished. He has underoos, cropped pants and shirt that closes with Velcro. I also made him a bear, which you can see in earlier posts, based on the shape of my own childhood bear. I couldn't seem to get in a groove with my sewing, partly because I kept trying to do some duds out of cotton knit and frankly, I've never sewn on knits, unless you count my women's cloth. I'm sure my machine has settings. I just haven't sat down to learn them. I think I have a special foot...in the depths of my catastrophic studio. Also, I'm still futzing with my patterns. They're not quite right, for shirts particularly. I think I make my dolls longer and leaner than most. As I've said, my view of the child world is my own child, who is in the 100th percentile for height and 25th for weight. Anyhow, I love this doll, but I wanted it to be something even more. So I'm including a voucher for another outfit.
I've been so hard on myself about not getting my little entreprise up and running that it keeps me from actually being productive and doing just that. So I'm taking some time to work my patterns until they're really great, and to develop a sweater pattern as well. If I post a doll in the meantime, great. If not, no big whoop. Wanderlust is still up there, though, and I feel sad for him. It's such a thrilling feeling to get Ari's doll ready to send, knowing that he and Ari will love on each other. I wish my Wanderlust doll got a little more love. (Jane's love is forbidden. She wants to eat his hair.) Like Tasha Tudor, I can't help feeling my dolls are real. (Okay, maybe not as hardcore as Tasha...)
Also in the news, Lake George is creeping up. I keep looking at that post and fantasizing. We're spending a week in Boston before the trip, and I can't wait to see our friends and eat fried fish and italian food. The truth is, I've been feeling pretty homesick. I'm happy with where we are. I can feel us slowly extending roots into the soil, and it seems fertile. I think we have a future here. But when I think about Boston, and especially when I think about my mom and dad in law, I feel such a powerful ache. Most days, I'd really like to be there, driving up to see them, to eat Benson's and watch golf (I thought I hated watching golf. Things change.) and grill, and see Jane with her Grama and Grampa, and play solitaire on my ma in law's iPhone, and just whatever. Their home, they themselves, were my respite and joy for five years. It's hard. Aaaaaaaand I'm getting choked up, so let's move on.
I am binding off the body of Jane's top down raglan sweater this very evening. In fact, it's almost done. Then I'll be working the front and neck placket and button holes. Then the arms, and it'll be done (next year this time). Seriously, my goal is to finish it before our trip. It's a bit sloppy. I made mistakes knitting in the car, etc. But it's the most major thing I've ever done. The pattern has 1X1 rib on the cuffs, hem, and placket, but that requires another size circular needle, which I can't buy right now. So I decided, what the hey! I really like seed stitch and I can use the same needle. So far, it looks good.
This week Jane and I have started some hardcore weaning. I've talked about it before, and tried the don't offer, don't refuse thing, but nothing's really changed. I can feel now that it's time, and this week we're cutting out all nursings not related to sleep. That leaves 4: naptime, bedtime, once in the middle of the night, and in the morning when she wakes up at 5 and I don't want to get out of bed. She joins us and nurses in bed. Next week, I'm cutting the early morning. After that, we'll see. I just can't believe what a big girl she is. Potty training (very relaxed potty training) starts as soon as I pull it together and get a potty.
As an aside, what do you parents call your childrens' privates? Because isn't the word genitals, you know, unpleasant? I'm not opposed to talking openly about things, but the words themselves seem either vulgar, or irritatingly cutesy, or vague, or shameful. When I was a kid, it was "privates," obviously. For this and other reasons, I always felt a little ashamed I had "privates." The V word (hey, I don't need a lot of spammers or creeps on this site) is sort of clinical, but makes me laugh because I think of Julianne Moore in The Big Lebowski. My BFF's mom called it munchkin land, which sounds totally innocent to my BFF because that's what she grew up hearing, but I don't think I need to articulate why I won't be choosing that one. The P word, not that it's on our list yet, sounds snivelly to me. For butt, I'm thinking rump, perhaps? I don't know. They have to be words that are friendly and that I won't feel embarrassed saying. HELP ME. So I don't have to stand there saying, "And then, you know, you wipe your, uhhh, you know, between your legs..."
I think that's all here at the ranch. As always, plans to be more productive, to blog more, to drink more coffee. I mean LESS. LESS coffee. Right. If I'm lame and don't blog until after, happy 4th in advance. We're throwing our FIRST PARTY since Jane was born Sunday. I'll let you know how it goes.