Publish or Perish

I have a new addiction: the pattern browser in Ravelry. It is something that I can do with one finger while listening to public radio podcasts, which is important since Ragnarson has a cold and as a result has completely given up sleeping in bed. He only likes to sleep on the boppy, on my lap, and since he's sick he's taking four or five hours worth of naps a day...sigh.

It's endless, there are over 4,000 patterns in the "free" section alone, and being the broke ass that I am, that's the section that interests me the most. In my Ravelry library alone I have around 100 pdf's, and at least that many on my computer as well...and those are just the patterns that I saved because I thought that I might someday, possibly, maybe, think about buying yarn with the intention of knitting them. I have to say though, having all those lovely patterns right at my fingertips just waiting to be printed out and slipped into plastic sheet protectors makes me feel like a wealthy wealthy woman.

Also makes me feel like a slacker, since I've been meaning to write up some of my patterns for ages.

And apparently making me feel like a slacker is a good way to motivate me, because today, while the baby was sleeping on my lap I typed out the pattern for the Flame On baby hat. I even went and found a freeware pdf converter, because I am a big old snob and only like my free patterns to be in pdf format. I was not so successful in finding a place to host pdf files though, so for the time being if you want it you will have to go and get it from the google documents site where I am hosting the word document...it's the same exact thing as the pdf, just not converted.

So go and get it. And if you're on Ravelry put it in your queue because that would make me feel all warm and gooshy on the inside. Hopefully in the next couple of days it will be downloadable from there as well, I'm just waiting to get my "designer" page linked to my "profile" page, and then I'm told, the magic will happen.

I'm hoping that this will be the first of several, if not many.

Ragnar....I'm a deeeesiiiiiiner.

B is for....

Since the other ABC alongers have moved on to C, I decided I might as well post my B. I'm sure it will come as no surprise to anyone here that:

B is for Baby.

(Ragnarson, 2 days old)

B was going to be for Birth Story, which is the reason that this post was delayed. I have been working on it off and on since Ragnarson was born, but it is a long story which is hard for me to write. It's hard in one sense, because I don't remember a lot of it. I was in labor for more than 60 hours, and even though I was sleeping between contractions (HA!) that is a long time. In another sense it's hard because things did not go as planned. Instead of a quiet, peaceful birth center, birth-in-the-tub sort of birth, I got a crazy transfer-to-the-hospital, us-against-them sort of birth. It will be written in good time, and I will send it off to the birth center to post on their website along with all the other birth center babies. Even though I didn't end up actually birthing at the center, the midwives are still very important to me.

(2 months old)

When we finally brought Ragnarson home from the hospital I remember having this feeling of "What? Who the hell thought it was a good idea to send me home with a new born baby? Look at him, he's like a doll with no stuffing, what if I sit on him?" And breastfeeding did not take off smooth and easily. He lost a lot of weight, and I was, of course, obsessive about it. I remember once, when he was probably four or five days old. I was scrutinizing every diaper for "mustardy seedy texture," which was not what I was finding. I called the Birth Center, and talked to one of the midwives, trying to affect a casual tone, "I'm sure it's nothing, I'm just a little worried because his poop is still brown, and it seems like it should be more yellow by now." Not fooled in the least she said "Are you okay honey, do you want me to come over and weigh him?" "No" sniffle snort "I'm okay," although I obviously wasn't. "You're right on my way home," she said, "I'll just stop by and say Hi." Sniffle, snort, "Okay, thanks." Anyway...they are great people those midwives.

(4 months old)

So here's to birth! Every woman I know who's had a baby, especially the crazy hippy ones who've had "natural" births, is totally blown away by the experience. Half of them decide to start training as doulas or midwives, and god help me I'm right there with them. Pity my poor friends that had the misfortune to get pregnant after I did, because I am insufferable on the subject of babies.

6 months old, and for the record that is avacado up his nose, not a nasty green booger. You can see me knitting in the background as his sister is feeding him. I don't get avacado up his nose when I'm feeding him...or at least there isn't photographic evidence that I do.

I love you Ragnarson, thanks for making me into a Mama.

Ragnar...baby crazy, but still a pirate.