I would like to blame my recent silence on the fact that we have one leg in NYC, one leg in MA, and our little family of 3 (4! says George) has been camping out in my parents’ spare bedroom, with all the attendant chaos that brings. House buying (we close in 2 weeks!), beach-going (good news: EJ didn’t burn; bad news: I did, badly), losing important cords, like those that charge camera batteries, and those that upload pictures.

Those are totally legitimate reasons.

But really, it’s because I got wholly and completely sucked into the Twilight books and movie. Last person on the entire planet, I know, but although I CAN knit while reading, I don’t really like to. Which puts a damper on the knitting when I get full-fledged sucked into a book series that I can’t stop reading, and re-reading.

Now that I’ve burned through them (several times) I’m feeling recharged for the knitting. Okay, also cause I got to hang out with (some of) my knittahs Sunday night, who I have missed desperately during my two years in NYC.

Knitting to come shortly, as soon as the camera battery charges and I can take some pictures. For now, you’ll have to settle for some of this:

EJ’s first trip in a shopping cart, holding on for dear life.

Gentle readers, I feel the need to tell you that I am now a Grown Up. There’s no mistaking it, and for better or worse, there is no turning back. I am a parent, I am 30, and I willingly put scissors to my knitting. All are pretty scary prospects, and none of them can be undone once done (although I’m guessing many, many people have tried).

(Also, I act like turning 30 was a choice. It was a choice only in that the alternative was dying, or stopping time, lengths I was not willing or able to go to to avoid my thirties.)

But I digress, as usual.

People, I cut my knitting.

As in, let me spend weeks knitting this sweater and hope to hell I don’t mess it all up when I decide to cut down the middle, all because I was too freaking lazy to knit back and forth.

(Non-knitters, all you need to know is that when you cut knitting, it unravels. Unless you do it in a very specific, precise, way. It’s scary as hell.)

It seems to have worked so far, but I’ll feel better once the buttonbands are in, after blocking and it’s ready to wear.

In the meantime, I’m using this sweater as a means to divert my attention from the fact that we’re leaving NYC, and soon. EJ and I are gearing up to make Holden our home base for the summer, while we look for a house.

There is much I am looking forward to (the town pool! Friday night tennis! a forever home!!!) and much I know I won’t miss here (dirty air! oven-baked sidewalks! crazy homeless people trying to touch EJ!!!) but I am wondering what will be the things that I find myself missing months or years from now. Once the dust settles, and the excitement of finding a house wears down, we get through our first set of holidays, our first year with a backyard…

What do I take completely for granted now, that I don’t even realize I’ll miss?

Being constantly surrounded by people, friendly people at that? I probably have 3 – 4 conversations with random strangers a day. The city noise that filters through our windows? I hear dogs and people, cars and construction… but the real treat comes when a random musician will play in a nearby apartment. At any given time we might hear a piano concerto, some jazz trumpet, or the low tones of a cello echoing through the courtyard our apartment faces.

It’s the trumpet that makes me really feel like I’m living in the city. There’s something magical about it, sultry golden tones on evenings warm enough to have the windows open.

It’s wonderful.

From the intro to Bert & Ernie’s Great Adventures, a segment on Sesame Street:

Ernie singing: “Every time the bed starts tapping / Something special’s going to happen…”
Bert chimes in: “This is kind of kinky!”

Makes me giggle, every time.

But it’s not all Sesame Street and kinky bed adventures here at Chez Pawlowski. (Actually, the kinkiest thing going on here is that we somehow defy the law of physics and squeeze 2 adults, a baby and a dog all in one small corner of a vast king size bed.)

Last week, my baby brother graduated from high school:

I could get all sappy and tell you all how extraordinarily proud I am of him, what a smart and fun guy he is, how I remember holding him as a newborn or sang him to sleep, the awesome university honors program he’ll be attending in the fall, but I’m just going to stick with Holy God, he’s grown up to look just like my father:

Separated at birth? You decide.

And that’s the last time I’ll ever refer to him as my baby brother. He’s 6’4″ and all grown up. I’ll just say that I’m really glad that we’ve become friends and not just siblings over the past few years and leave it at that.

We’ve also re-entered the world these past few weeks. We’ve been to a baby shower, a 40th birthday party, the graduation, had good friends come visit from out of town, gone out for a night on the town courtesy of Eric’s parents babysitting, been out for burgers and beers with EJ in tow, walked down to the open air bar overlooking the Hudson with George and EJ, made our way up to Harlem for a Memorial Day BBQ.


(With friends in Central Park.)

For awhile there it seemed like we’d never be our normal selves again, but actually the tiny baby stage passed quickly, and we’re back in the swing of things. It feels GOOD.

And just as dirty!

We started EJ on food recently, as well as some formula bottles in addition to the breastfeeding. (I’m having a hard time coming up with words right now, as EJ is in his Excersaucer beaming smiles and bellylaughing at me. Wipes coherent thought right out of ones head.) The result has been generally good – and I’ll spare you the details of baby constipation and the wonders of pureed prunes – but it sure has been absurdly filthy.

Quite aside from the stickiness and stench of oozing rice cereal and prune mixture in various states of digestion from both ends, formula spit up is considerably grainier, smellier, and stain-ier (yes, I just made that up) than breast milk. Add in George’s fetish for EJ-licking and I’ve just about given up on the wee one clean. It’s impossible.

(He’s making eyes at me from behind the lizard puppet as I type. We cannot contain our love for each other right now.)

So, while I’ve been watching my tiny beloved gleefully roll around in his own filth, I’ve been working on this:

1 body, 1 sleeve, and 1/8th of a sleeve of o w l s (raveled here)

I know it looks like a heap of knitted nothing right now, but I’m just about to the interesting part, which is comprised of a yoke of cabled owls, with little button eyes. Instead of a pullover, I’ve decided to make it a cardigan by way of steeks, nevermind that I’ve never steeked anything before. I just know that it will get considerably more use as a cardigan, and I’ll cross the steeking bridge when I get to it.

(I just released myself from a series of gooey baby kisses, such as they are. More like face grabbing and cheek chewing, but it was done with love.)

It’s time for me to go, my sweet pile of poop and drool is ready for a nap. Next time, hopefully a steeking chronicle.

I feel triumphant. Energized. Renewed. Like I can only imagine Steve Carrell’s character felt in the 40-Year-Old Virgin, when he finally wound the bobbin, so to speak. (I can only imagine because I’ve never seen the end of the movie. So I’m making a pretty big assumption here, but go with it.)

I haven’t felt great, or excited, about my knitting for a long time. I could sit here and dwell on all the reasons, but seriously, that would be a drag for all of us. Let’s just say that I’ve cast on for the February Lady Sweater in THREE different yarns, and yet do not actually have a February Lady Sweater. Also? I was pregnant for 9 months, and the only baby things I knit for EJ were 2 little hats.

So. It was bad.

The hero of this story is a beautiful yarn, Sundara Aran Silky Merino, the last of the Seasons shipments. (The last shipment Ever, as it happens to be, as Sundara is no longer offering Seasons subscriptions.) It’s a silk wool blend in a gorgeous hand-dyed green:

and it was the first yarn in a long long time that made me want to cast on for something special, RIGHT NOW.

And in a little over a week, I had finished this:

The details are on Ravelry, but let me just say that the textured shawl recipe by orlane is a wonderful pattern conception. Simple, clever, and beautiful.

In the 2 days since I finished this, I’ve knit almost 25% of a sweater. But I’ll save that for the next post. We’ll see if this jump start turns into something special.

And just in case you’re just here for the baby pictures (um, Dad), here’s a shot of EJ from last weekend when we were out and about:

The most horrible thing about parenting so far (for me) is when I’ve been the source of EJ’s pain. Vaccinations, of course, are probably the first time you willingly subject your baby to pain, and I will never forget the look in his eyes as I held him down on the table at 8 weeks old and had a doctor stick 3 needles in him.

Awful.

Then, there’s the accidental maiming – trying to cut his fingernails is perilous at best, and if it weren’t for the fact that he’s drawn a fair amount of his own blood because his fingernails grew too long, I wouldn’t cut them at all. But, it has to be done, and both Eric and I have nicked his fingers to various degrees in the attempt.

Awful.

Then there’s the Awful At The Time, But Funny Later sorts of mishaps. The other day, Eric had EJ in the bjorn, like this, except now EJ is way more alert and is constantly staring up to watch what we’re doing.

It was a weekend morning, which in the Pawlowski household means Dunkin Donuts coffee and a chocolate frosted donut each that Eric brings home from his walk with the boys. Oh, chocolate frosted donut! You make my heart sing! Someday you will have your own glorious post. But today your tale is not one of rejoicing, but of unfortunate hilarity.

Eric was chomping on his chocolate frosted donut. Delicious and happy. At some point he looked down, and saw a big yellow sprinkle staring back at him. Lodged in EJ’s eye. Just sitting there, all innocent and cute and yummy, but IN HIS EYE. EJ had no idea, or at least, wasn’t fussed about it.

But I was.

All I could think of was, how the hell am I going to get that out of there?!?!? and I should really go get the camera!

In a split second I decided it would be irresponsible to leave it in there long enough to get the camera and snap some pictures. I (mostly) regret that now. It would have been a great picture.

Instead, I grabbed a cup full of water and poured in his eye, to flush the thing out. But I couldn’t actually bring myself to pour water in his eye, so Eric laid him on the ground, and I more like poured a cup full of water on his face, which pissed him off enough to start crying some real tears, which then popped the sprinkle out enough that I could pull it out myself.

See? Wouldn’t this story have been better with a picture?

Sigh.

You will have to content yourself with my new project, which is growing on my needles so fast you (insert A-Rod on steroids joke here). I can hardly believe it’s been 4 days and I’m already halfway through it:

The Textured Shawl in Sundara Aran Silky Merino, which I think is proving to be a perfect matching of yarn and pattern. Details on Ravelry.

I don’t know if it’s simply a promotion, or if Dunkin Donuts has finally remembered that coffee shouldn’t be a luxury item (for God’s sake, it’s one of the only thing Francie’s family can afford in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn), but my iced coffees have only cost 50 cents this week. It’s so rare for something to cost only cents, that keyboards don’t even have a Cents sign. Says something, huh?

Anyhow.

I’ve been watching a fair amount of Sesame Street lately, and I’m not embarrassed to say that I’m enjoying it as much as I did when I was a kid. The writing is smart (great references to popular culture), the issues are relevant (adults need help remembering to share and respect others too), the guests are fabulous (Crystal Gale then, Feist now), and Murray has a Little Lamb? That Ovajita has some sass.

And I don’t know what it is, but it makes EJ laugh, and occupies him long enough to let me take a shower in the morning, so there’s that too.

Here EJ is wondering what a cookie is, and why the Cookie Monster loves them so much.

Look at how his eyes are glued to the TV. Normally I whip out the camera and he stares at me. Not so when Sesame Street is on. And No, I do not feel bad enlisting the help of the TV at times. Ideals be damned, I has gots to get clean.

I can tell how things are going here by how much knitting is happening. Month 4 was a rough one – what with the learning how to roll over and discovering that there’s a Whole Big World to look at, EJ was way too hopped up to sleep well, or to stay still long enough for a good meal.

Suffice it to say, there was no knitting for the whole of Month 4.

Mostly it was just a fog of attending to EJ in his frustrated attempts to gain some control over his body. I’m trying to toe the line between the frustration and tears necessary to work something out on his own, and helping him when he needs it. I suppose that’s at the heart of parenting, and as parents we just cut our teeth on issues like: he rolls over back-to-belly but not belly-to-back. So when he happily flips himself over and 30 seconds realizes he’s stuck that way, he’s kind of pissed. And he wants me to roll him over, so he can do it again.

But he has the ability to roll over belly-to-back, and just doesn’t know it. He’s done it. But the more I do it for him, the more he expects me to, and the more frustrated he is marooned on his belly.

(Just preparation for when he wants to me to do his laundry for him when he’s old enough to do it himself I suppose. And by then he’ll actually understand the words “You can do it honey!”.)

My other big parenting dilemma these days is this: George loves licking EJ’s hands with a fervent passion. EJ loves it when George licks his hands. Perhaps not as fervently, but EJ appears fascinated with the furry thing walking around and having something to grab other than stuffed rattles.

See for yourself:

(Who needs toys when you’ve got a dog?)
Then, of course, EJ sticks his hands in his mouth, and maws on George’s dog drool. As of now, I’m not overly concerned, as I’m having very little luck restraining George when my back is turned. And well, I’m of the A-Little-Dirt-is-Good-For-Them camp. But if anyone can tell me of a good reason why I should put a stop to this now, I’d be glad to hear it.

So, given that these are the biggest things I’m dealing with on the parenting front, you can see that this past week or so has been more manageable. More sleeping. More hands-free time during the day.

More knitting. (And blogging! We can only hope.)

I have finally cast on for something with Sundara Sock Yarn, and I must say that it is definitely worth the hype. Her depth of color is stunning, and my picture does not do it justice.

Sure, it’s only about a quarter of an ankle sock, but it feels good to have cast on for something new. It’s a beautiful green, like the park outside. It’s something manageable. Easily picked up and put down. Useful and pretty all at the same time. Do what works, right?

gratuitous baby pic:

3-15

My life is hardly recognizable for all the changes that have happened since I posted last. Hold on to your hats, while I take you on the ride that has been my life this past month.

Firstly, I have spent more time in MA than in NYC this past month. In fact, I am writing on my mother’s laptop, drinking coffee in the guest room while EJ naps. It’s actually quite lovely and peaceful, and I’ve been up here so much that our life in NYC seems slightly unreal.

Which I suppose is a good thing, because we’ve decided to move back to MA. Starting in June, EJ and I are going to be up here full time looking for a house.

In fact, we had started poking around the market and put an offer on a house a few weeks ago. Sadly, we were outbid – the house was perfect, the neighborhood was fantastic, in the town we love best around here. But it highlighted for us how difficult it is to house-hunt from a distance. So for now, the hunt is on hold, to be resumed in June.

(But I can still stalk the MLS site. I love looking at real estate. Love. It.)

And since I have no knitting pics, I will try to keep your interest with pictures of cuteness:

3-13

Pedestrians everywhere, beware. I am back on the roads, and this time armed with a pretty, brand-spanking new mid-sized SUV. This is bittersweet – Eric and I have loved being car-free these past two years, and we recognize that there are more environmentally responsible ways to get back on the road. But the reality is we’re moving to an area that for 5 months of the year is pummeled with snow and ice, with roads that leave much to be desired, and anything less than 4WD is irresponsible from a safety standpoint. I’m pretty sure that mid-January in Central MA would eat a Prius alive.

Chompity chomp chomp chomp.

3-16
Better get used to that car seat buddy.

But it’s not all houses and cars around here. We’ve also addressed matters of the soul. We hedged our bets and had EJ baptized. Actually, Monsignor was very good to us, and performed a twofer: Eric and I are now married in the Church, and our son is now saved from the evils of Original Sin and has been welcomed into the community, destined for a life of guilt and penitence.

(Yes, I’m being a little tongue-in-cheek there. I have a conflicted relationship with the Church, but the ceremony was truly lovely, and I am very glad we did it. EJ can choose to be a heathen later in life if he’d like.)

3-01
The battle for his soul has begun.

So, my knitting is gathering dust, and our life is in complete upheaval again. I’m not gonna lie – I am so sick of moving, and of all the time and effort wasted each time we pack up, and then try to get settled again. Eric and I have moved so much that we actually have a 3 month rule. We have 3 months after moving to unpack, decorate, get settled, etc.. After 3 months, anything that’s not done is left undone. There’s no point in continuing, because we know our time is limited. So, the most appealing aspect of this next move is the idea that it’s going to be our last move for a very very very long time.

(Not to mention that we’ll be close to my family and all our MA friends. Which rocks.)

Check out the fabulous BSJ EJ’s sporting here – just peeking out under his chin, made for him by the wonderful Carole. We loves it.

I have been, and will be, without internet access for the next few weeks. What a strange experience it has been – Eric has been using our home laptop for work now – to be home all day with EJ, utterly cut off from the outside world, and every important piece of information I’ve needed to save over the past few years. I am utterly dependent on this hunk of metal and plastic, and finding myself without it has been very difficult and very liberating all at the same time.

It’s stinky not being able to communicate with all of my friends. Email, blogs, twitter, facebook, not to mention the internet in general, has made my housebound isolation as a SAHM kind of fun. My people have only been as far away as my fingertips, and I’m sure I’m not the only mom at home who’s been grateful for that. But, not having the timesuck of the computer, well, I’m finding I’m actually getting knitting and reading done.

What? How is that with a 3 mo old baby? That’s right – EJ has learned to nap on his own. For 2 weeks, every day consistently, EJ falls asleep and lets me PUT HIM DOWN. Hell, sometimes he lets me put him down when he’s awake. For reals. He sits in his chair. He eats his hands. He googles at his stuffed lion, and he loves listening to Harry Potter audiobooks. (Oh wait, that’s me.) I mean, I can’t leave the apartment, I refuse to watch daytime television (I mean, it’s a nice treat occasionally, but day in and day out it will drive you bonkers), there’s no computer, and there’s no one for company. After a little bit of tidying up and I’ve got a good hour or two to sit in my chair and knit. It’s been a bit of a revolution, and it’s been wonderful.

But that’s why I’ve been quiet, and why I will be for a little while more. Soon we’ll be getting another laptop, and I’ll have full use of our home one again, but until then, I’m going to allow myself to enjoy the forced time sans technology. SAHM old-school style.


That’s what I’m talking about. Word.

Eric quit his job a few weeks ago, and Friday was his last day. This marks, without exaggeration, the end of an era of oppression around here. He worked for a large hedge fund with a slaveshop mentality, most recently imposing mandatory 14 hour days, 6 day weeks (“but you’d better not complain if it’s both weekend days, you’re damn lucky you have a job”) while cutting health benefits and compensation. This hedge fund has $20 Billion under management, not exactly working under a shoestring budget, so I find it hard for them to justify working their people to the bone and using the current economic situation as a whip.

Eric starts next week at a family friendly company, and we are both excited about his prospects there. But most importantly, he’ll be able to be home, mind and body, for normal chunks of time.

The past week or so has been a nice respite for me as well. Eric has been relishing the time he now gets to spend with EJ, which means I no longer bear the full brunt of holding him all the time. As you can imagine, this has been a win-win-win situation.

I haven’t really been knitting, but I did use my EJ-free arms to scrounge around in the closet and find my sewing machine. My first order of business was the make a supersized swaddle blanket – no more wussy swaddles for us. My next order of business is a skirt, naturally. (The Skirt, after all, is the Scarf of sewing).

In preparation for all this, I picked up Sew U by Wendy of Built by Wendy, and I must say, it is simply excellent. It is the first sewing book I’ve ever seen that has the Elizabeth Zimmermann mentality of empowering the knitter (seamstress?) to use common sense and boldly customize projects.

Love. It.

I also found a refurbished serger on sale at Overstock dot com and it arrived yesterday. (By the way, it’s like the Fates came together and determined it’s time for me to get my sew on. Don’t you think?) I can’t wait to unpack it and give it a whirl, which brings me to the question of why am I still working on this post?

There’s a serger waiting to be unpacked. I’ve been keeping an eye on sergers for 3 years now, and finally found a good one at a great price. I’m gonna get on that, right now.

(She’s lonely, and the only cure is more serger.)

 

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