Seven

After seven years...


You're still my best friend. Happy anniversary, love.

A Letter to My Daughter

Dear Baby Daughter,

At nearly 25 weeks, I’ve now officially passed the point in pregnancy where I was at with Katherine when I was rushed to my emergency caesarean, so everything from here on out is new to me. It’s bittersweet to mark this time; after all, there are so many memories of what was going on at this stage in my pregnancy with her, and I’m glad there are no symptoms currently to be concerned about with you, but I still wish things hadn’t turned out the way they had and that we could be introducing you to your big sister when you arrived.

Nevertheless, I keep doing my best to trust. When I was right around 23 weeks pregnant with Katherine, we made our annual summer trip home. My first full day back in Indiana found me swollen beyond recognition and being checked into the hospital for observation. In two weeks, I had put on 20 pounds due to water retention, and it all went downhill from there. Here I was, nearly two years later, facing a summer trip home at basically the same point in my pregnancy as before, and I admit there was some anxiety. What would I do if I started to swell and was a couple states away from the doctors that knew me and my history?

However, I had a clean bill of health from my doctor and she wasn’t concerned with me traveling, so we made the long drive home. There hasn’t been a hint of swelling, even with the warmer temperatures. I delight when I see my rings unable to stay balanced and upright on my fingers, instead sliding upside-down because of how loose they continue to be. Just one more sign that I don’t have evidence of swelling and that I am healthy at this moment.

The trip home was filled with unending relaxation and good food, great visits with friends and family, and so many naps I lost count. I’m sure you enjoyed the change in routine, but I admit now that it’s over, it’s hard to adjust to just one nap a day again, especially since it doesn’t occur before 5:15 PM. I feel great during this pregnancy, but I do find myself fading more quickly than before I was pregnant, and I do get the requisite winded feeling after exerting myself for any length of time.

Your activity, growing ever stronger, is a comfort. Remind me of this when you start attacking my ribs or keeping me up at night! You like to make it known when you’re getting hungry, which considering I like to eat every couple hours, means you’re also shaping up to be a grazer, at least in utero. And then, once I’ve eaten, I can tell when the food has reached you and you start to dance in appreciation. Come bedtime, you start up your jumping again, usually against the side of my stomach that touches the mattress – this may not bode well for when you learn to jump in your toddler years and realize that the mattress makes an ideal platform, but right now it’s amusing. Some days are quieter on your end, but you don’t fail to let me know you’re still there doing well, even if you’re a little sleepier than the day before. You’re getting big enough that what were once flutters are now more decided movements, and you can even span a good distance when you stretch, so I can feel kicks and punches simultaneously on opposite sides of my stomach.

While home, two of my sisters got to feel you kicking. You even managed to scare my older sister, which made me laugh. At first, she felt a couple subtle movements, then you gave a really good jab, and she pulled away suddenly, shocked at your strength and giggling at her response.

I’ve officially popped – it happened around 22 weeks, and I currently seem to be all belly. You’re happy hanging out right in front, so while anyone who gets a side glance knows full well I’m pregnant, I’ve been told they can’t tell from behind that I’m expecting.

Your daddy is so good to me – I can’t wait for you to meet him. I decided it would be a nice gesture of solidarity if he gave up his beloved caffeinated soda while I swore off caffeinated coffee, and he’s humored me in that move. Although my former car was sufficient, he traded it in for a newer, more reliable car since it had safer crash ratings and he could rest easier knowing you would be better protected should an accident ever happen.

When I had a mild panic attack after seeing some white spots upon standing up suddenly (different from some earlier light-headed spells), he humored me by buying an automatic blood pressure cuff so I could confirm my levels were still low, thus keeping me calm when doubts creep in. He drove the entire way home from Iowa, even turning down my offers to help, because he wanted me to be well rested upon our return. He didn’t mind that he had to load and unload most of the car on his own – many of our items fell into the “over 20 pounds” limit that I’m not allowed to touch.

I haven’t yet sent him out on a craving errand, and I tease him that apparently he’s lucked out because of it. I talk to friends and learn of their late-night cravings that send their spouses running to the car, but you haven’t yet driven me to request specific food items beyond what I can find at home.

Every single day, he’s beyond helpful with never a word of complaint and even as my body changes, he still finds me beautiful. You and I are lucky to have such a thoughtful, loving man we each get to call husband and daddy. I already know you’re going to be treasured by him and he will dote on you every moment.

We just ordered your crib, which was another big step for us as we admitted that it was time to hope that this might actually happen for us and we could take more concrete steps to prepare for your arrival. Now we just need to find a dresser to buy that will hold all the baby girl clothes friends and family are passing on to us – I’m reminded again at how the predominant color for baby girls is pink, so in my knitting I’m trying to add some variety to the color palette.

I anticipate the coming months of growth, and each day and each week that passes in this uneventful pregnancy gives me added hope that we will get to know you longer than we did your older sister. Know that I already love you so much, and I look forward to getting more glimpses of your personality in the coming weeks, and then seeing you face to face in late summer. Feel free to stay inside a long time yet – I’m more than willing to experience all the uncomfortable awkwardness that comes with making it full term and being quite pregnant in the humid summer months. I’m happy to endure any aches and pains and sleepless nights that might happen as I grow in size – just do your best to stay in there until the doctor decides it’s time for you to come out, preferably as a full-term, plump, healthy baby.

Love,
Mommy

Thursday Potpourri

I’ve been trying to decide what this blog should hold – do I continue with my postings on any number of topics – a random story about family or work, pictures of my felines, accounts of finished knitting and sewing projects? I think since there’s not a common theme, I have neglected posting. After all, when you can write about anything, it can be difficult to narrow it down and make the time to compose something. When I was teaching, I had no lack of stories from work, but I don’t have the same amusement in my current position, which has led to the evolution of topics.

Anyway, in the midst of my current thinking, I thought I’d just include random updates on a myriad of topics.

Our Pets
Augustine and Dante have settled into a tolerant relationship, and it seems clear that Augustine has secured the Alpha Cat position for herself, and Dante just follows her around everywhere. This was our hope all along and the reason we got a small, male kitten. They adore the screened-in porch and are relishing the warmer temperatures, particularly when that means there are open windows. Augustine still has the sweet temperament, and Dante can be aggravating in his antics, but we’ll still keep him (it doesn't hurt that his flatulence has lessened...).

I don’t know if it’s due to my pregnancy, but Augustine has decided that Eric is the preferred sleeping companion at night, which is a first. My favorite example of this was last Saturday night, when I caught her with me. Every time Eric stirred she jumped up, walked across me and stepped on him, and when he didn’t respond, she repeated her steps and settled down with me again, resigning herself to more time with me. This was repeated four times in the span of half an hour or so, until finally Eric stirred enough that I thought he might be awake, and I told him he better welcome Augustine before I reached my tolerance at being treated as second-rate.

Changes in Me
As referenced above, I am pregnant, due in September. This could be a post in and of itself, but due to my infrequency, I better address it now. Although not my first pregnancy, it might at well be with the way I face it. It’s as if I’ve never gone through this before, and I am more anxious this time around, knowing that I’m high risk. I think I’ve come to the conclusion that there is just too much information out there for pregnant women. If we look too closely at anything, we’ll find a reason it’s not safe in pregnancy. Pregnant women are supposed to sleep on their sides, and some places will tell you to only sleep on your left side or face the dire consequences – if any of you can sleep in only one position throughout the night without stirring, kudos to you. Don’t eat soft cheeses or sandwich meats, don’t stand too near a microwave when in use, elevate your feet throughout the day, take prenatals at least three months before getting pregnant, count the baby’s movements daily in your third trimester, and if they ever slow or vary, call your doctor or go to the emergency room. Some fish are okay, but not all, and only in limited servings. Avoid Caesar salads. And on and on.

My co-workers, all of whom are grandparents, drop their jaws whenever I mention one more thing I’m not supposed to do. Then they try to compare stories of all the things they did when they were pregnant with children, including ingesting alcohol. On a related note, I recall a story from a college classmate whose mother smoked but was told during pregnancy that as long as she limited her intake to three cigarettes a day, there would be no harm to the fetus. This was a big cutback to her normal habit, so sometimes she’d smoke only one or two a day so she could hoard the extras and treat herself to half a dozen at the end of the week. Things sure have changed in the medical field regarding pregnancies.

Sometimes I wander into a pregnancy forum, but there can be some alarmist posts, so I do that in moderation and I’m selective which threads I read. I’m at 19 weeks, and I’ve been feeling inconsistent movements for a few weeks now. I think I’m finally at the point where I’m feeling them on a daily basis, although they’re still of the “fluttering” variety, most apparent shortly after a meal or when lying down for bed.

Monday was the big anatomy ultrasound - our little one cooperated, so we learned we're having a girl! Since I’m considered high-risk, it was actually my fourth ultrasound, and they will continue on a monthly basis for the duration of my pregnancy. Physically I’m feeling fine, much better than my first pregnancy. And now that I’m feeling movements, my anxiety has decreased noticeably. However, since I’ve been down this road before, I have to keep reminding myself that if things continue as they are, we’ll have a different outcome, although I confess I am skeptical of this at times. I’m still mentally planning for the changes, keeping an eye out for things we may register for in the future and planning knitting projects for a future baby, but it’s still unreal to me.

Eric has asked when I want to start transforming my office into a nursery, and I’m in no hurry. I don’t want to plan on anything going wrong, and I’m honest in that my anxiety has been low as of late, but I don’t want to have to go through returning the nursery to an office again. I think I’ll be ready to move forward when I surpass 24 weeks, the point when I had complications last time.

Knitting
On the knitting front, I recently finished a hippo. I am in love with it. He is so charming and anyone who meets him just wants to squish him close – even my husband has granted it his seal of approval.

Details
Pattern: Hippo from Itty Bitty Toys (pattern link on Ravelry)
Yarn: Dream in Color Smooshy, held doubled throughout; small portion of Koigu KPM, held doubled throughout; spare black yarn for face embellishments
Modifications: None

I’ve since moved on to Giraffe, but I have trouble believing Giraffe can come anywhere near to supplanting my love for Hippo. The bar has been set pretty high. I have a couple other knit animals in my queue, but now that I know we're having a girl, I've gotten distracted. Brace yourselves for an onslaught of gender-specific outfits.

Preparing for Summer
We may have purchased a new car this week - my husband the planner thought we could upgrade my former car with one that boasted a better safety rating and half the mileage while we were both still drawing in full-time salaries. It doesn't hurt that I still get a moon roof and I now gained Bose speakers. And audio controls on the steering wheel? I don't ever want to go back!

Finally, I chopped my hair, partly inspired by the warmer temperatures, partly inspired by having had long hair for too long, and partly inspired by my youngest sister's adorable cut.

I'm enjoying the change. Now if only the warmer temperatures would stay...

Boats, Trains, and Automobiles

I contemplated making a toy car mat for my nephew this Christmas, and when no satisfactory pattern was found, I turned to the equally desirable volcano mat (documented here).

In January, a co-worker showed me the perfect knit pattern for such a delightful toy mat, newly released by Knit Picks. It’s a hefty size (four feet by four feet), but as cute as can be. To temper my excitement, though, it was observed that the knitting consisted of an awful lot of stockinette (let’s not focus too long on the area of sixteen feet, or I might grow faint). However, I was not dissuaded long-term. I like some moderately straightforward knitting now and again.

However, the cuteness factor of the toy mat was trumped when I learned there were vehicles that accompanied this pattern, and the kit was duly purchased and immediately cast on.

Let me introduce you to the newest members of my toy knitting.

Enter: Train.

Boat.

Taxi.

Pickup Truck.

My only complaint is that the wheels called for on the vehicles are i-cord alone. No extra support, no padded wheels, just black i-cord that end up looking like flat tires since they’re sewn half-on and half-off the vehicle. I left them off the car and truck. I’m thinking children’s imaginations won’t mind concocting their own wheels, unless I come up with a more satisfactory solution.

Also, I should add the disclaimer that I didn’t take a close look at gauge – while I think I was pretty close if not right on, I was aiming for the proper density of knitted fabric to hide the stuffing. A couple of the projects had me running awfully close to empty when it came to yardage. My saving grace was that I had some leftover yarn in the same colors after finishing the collaborative Kristine blanket. If you aren’t so fortunate and are considering such a kit, I recommend an extra skein of red and yellow unless you’re very spot-on with gauge.

I’m afraid that I grew pretty attached to these items during the process. Unless I make some identical ones for my nephew, I have to confess these are now at home in my toy chest, or as I like to call it, “Aunt Faith sure has the best toys!”

Hey, if bribing is what it takes to get my family to visit me, so be it.

Kristine's Blanket: A Collaboration

Let’s set the scene. A couple years back, about a dozen friends met on a weekly basis to knit, share life, and take in Cambodian Thai as often as we could justify. Since then, several of those individuals have moved on: four to schools or jobs out East, one to a job in Chicago, a couple are not too far away from here but not as close as to allow mid-week knitting, and yet another to Tennessee.

The newly-relocated Tennessee girl, Kristine, happened to share that she was pregnant this fall. It so happened that this summer I was suggesting to one of the remaining knitters that were one of our own to become pregnant, it would be nice to contribute a collaborative project; I even had a possibility in mind. After all, knitters often give but don’t often receive handknits, and especially since we’re all over the States, a gesture like this would be a special memory for the recipient – each square knit by a dear friend that she used to spend time with on a regular basis when she lived here, a special gift that she could share with her child. Thus, while we’re away, this blanket would hold a piece of us near.

Kristine, falling into my plans by conveniently getting pregnant, was the perfect recipient.

I sent out a mass email with the plan. We’d all lay claim to specific squares and colors for the Texture Baby Blanket (from Susan B. Anderson's book Itty Bitty Nursery), purchasing the same brand of yarn so there would be cohesiveness (here I am promoting KnitPicks again, but they offer great affordable yarn and their cotton is delicious).

We figured we had plenty of time to knit 2-3 squares before the March due date. Then we learned our dear friend was going to be in Chicago for a baby shower in December, and that spurred some sudden knitting and assembling to try to finish in time.


There’s always a gamble when eleven different individuals work together to try to make a cohesive project. Sure, we all used the same yarn brand, but our color tastes varied, and I wondered how it would turn out with such a mixture. Fortunately, we knew the recipient liked bold colors, so we thought that out of all of us, she would be most welcoming of a motley blanket.

As blocks were being returned, I admit there was some anxiety on my part. In such a project, if one person is making all 25 blocks, there can be some inattention when it comes to gauge. Use the same needle size and yarn, and the squares should be the same. However, when you have eleven knitters all aiming, more or less, for identical squares in the end, it’s imperative that the gauge be taken to account. However, as they were returned, not all were six inches square. Some were just shy, some were spot on, and some were about seven inches, or more of a rectangular shape. I was beginning to think we would be gifting 25 cotton washcloths to Kristine.

Fortunately, this was not going to be my problem to solve. Carly had offered to crochet all the squares together. She amazed me with her speed – I think it took under 48 hours to make an actual blanket out of 24 squares (one hadn’t yet been returned). The last block was seamed in on the way to the shower in the car.

Of course, time got the best of us, and at the shower, our blanket still had two squares without embellishments, no border, and more dangling ends than any knitter wants to face while sober. We showed her the project, let her caress and enjoy it for a time, and then whisked it away for finishing at the end of the night. She was gracious in response to our gift reclaiming. Over Christmas, I added the border and wove in ends (there are some bonuses to long car trips when I’m captive inside a moving vehicle). Then over the next couple months the final two squares were embellished, and we were able to mail it to her before her baby’s arrival (Baby Boy is supposed to emerge any day now, so getting it to Kristine before he came was enough for us).


She just received it a couple weeks ago, so I thought I’d share some photos of the completed project. You can see the edges don’t quite lay flat – I think this is where the differences in gauge is most obvious, but I think it turned out pretty well, all things considered.

A Tale of a Chicken (aka: Nancy Challenge #1)

Once upon a time, there was a girl who noticed a distressing absence of chickens in her life. Not one to sit around and witness this tragedy continue longer than necessary, she decided to bring one to existence.

After a small dose of KnitPicks cotton, some fiberfill, and a fair amount of seaming together, Chicken entered the scene.


At first, this girl didn’t know what to make of him. She followed the (sparse) directions thoroughly, but his head was a little floppy, and that neck connection wasn’t the most attractive; some might speculate that he lacked proper support in that department. However, after two days had passed, she learned this allowed him to turn his head rakishly, so she decided it really did add to his personality.


With the satisfactory closure of this mission, her life is more complete.

This also completes her first Nancy Challenge (there are two other projects in various degrees of doneness and satisfaction that are currently in a holding pattern, plus Lent this year is composed of charity knitting, so we’ll see what’s next on the docket re: Nancy books).

Reflecting One Month Later

Today marks one month after the earthquake in Haiti. Last month was the first month since starting this blog that I didn’t write. A couple possible blog topics crossed my mind, but they seemed trite compared to what was being experienced by Haitians. In fact, I thought I could share a story told to me by some individuals in our department who happened to be in Haiti when the earthquake hit. They’ve been interviewed by the local news and the university, so I think I’m at liberty to share their first names here. First, the principal characters are Father Tom and his employees Sarah and Logan. Logan was the one that shared their experience with me.

One of our research faculty members, Father Tom, is head of a program to eliminate a couple of prevalent diseases in Haiti; they have a clinic in Leogane, so he splits his time between the States and there. He and three of his employees happened to be in Haiti last week for meetings. Tuesday's meeting (January 12) was originally supposed to go until 5 PM in the Hotel Montana in Port-au-Prince, but one of the attendees wanted it to end early, so they modified the agenda so they were finished for the day at 3:30. There was some mingling immediately afterwards, and sometime after 4 PM Logan and Sarah were going to join a potential donor in her room on the 4th floor for a drink before dinner. The hotel had only four floors, so they were on the top floor.

Once they arrived, they spotted a terrace and, as the weather was perfect, they made the decision to sit outside and enjoy the view. As she looked over Port-au-Prince, Sarah was commenting how far Haiti had come in the last few years, making visible progress in all areas. They hadn't even been there ten minutes when the earthquake began. At first, the hotel rumbled mildly, and Logan looked around confused, wondering what was happening. It gained in strength and they were thrown violently to the tile floor, spread-eagle with nothing to hold on to, as they felt the hotel pancake underneath them. With one jolt, they fell to the third-floor terrace, then the building shook again, and they were on the second, and again, and then they fell once more.

The first person Logan saw as the dust settled was Father Tom (with the way Logan described it, I amused myself with picturing ethereal visions of Father Tom emerging untouched from the destruction all around). Fr. Tom had been a floor or two beneath them underneath a terrace, but as the earthquake began, he moved to the center to avoid the falling building. They stumbled and climbed over the rubble to reach the ground.

They found one of their Haitian employees had broken a leg. Sarah used to be a first responder, so they tore up Logan's shirt, found a couple sticks, and splinted his leg. After stock was taken, it was determined that not a single person associated with the Haiti program, or any of their families, had died, and the only injury was Claude's broken leg. I think Father Tom said there was still one person they were trying to track down, but those are pretty amazing numbers given the tragedy that took place.

In Leogane, where their hospital is located, 80 percent of the buildings collapsed, but the hospital is still standing (it helps that Father Tom, when he was given his grant from the Gates Foundation, had the College of Engineering at our university review the building plans and make alterations so it would be structurally sound to withstand an earthquake; at the time, he was given grief for spending several thousand dollars when it had been ages since an earthquake took place, but in hindsight, $5,000 dollars spent before building began sure seems like a sound investment given the outcome).

During the aftershocks, Logan spoke of seeing buildings fall around them and hearing all the screaming, but also at night, there were sounds of people praying and singing. He and Sarah made their way to the American Embassy within a day or so of the quake, where the Coast Guard was able to get them to the Dominican Republic, and then they flew out commercially and arrived safely home Friday night.

As Logan recounted the experience in our office, I had to hold back tears. Just visualizing what they experienced and wondering how I would be sleeping or acting after living through such an event is enough to make me emotional. For that moment, I could distantly relate to what Logan's mom, another employee in our department, said she is experiencing. Here, our people were all safe, and yet so many are suffering in the continuing mess. Call it survivor's guilt, or whatever it is when you're only casually connected to several individuals who experienced it and lived. They were on a terrace in a hotel where many were buried and died, and through luck, chance, or providence, their meeting ended early and they were on the top floor, not down below as they should have been.

Here they are, now removed from it all, safe and sound in the States, trying to find ways to continue their work and send aid back to Haiti. In time, they'll resume their disease elimination work in Haiti, but right now, their hospital will be transformed to provide general care. It's pretty staggering, and I don't know how quickly I could reenter my life.

Homemade Christmas, 2009 Edition

In an effort to stave off the materialistic side of the holidays, and to have an opportunity to devote time to making special items for each of my side of the family, I again made my gifts for the holidays. Now that they've been gifted, I can share the spoils.

First up, felted clogs for my dad. [Ravelry pattern link]


And coordinating ones for his new wife.


For my new step-brother, I made a Norwegian Star Hat with Earflaps [Ravelry link]. Rumor has it his head (and hair) are both large, so I made a pretty substantial hat, which I then felted because it was pretty floppy and huge when all was said and done. It's still pretty roomy on me, so I'm trusting it will work.


The sisters received bags I sewed; I liked the results so much that I am in the process of picking up the same fabric to make an identical one for myself. I made two cross-body bags and one shoulder bag, following the directions. I personally prefer the shoulder bag, pictured below, but each sister was given a bag well-suited to their needs. [Margaret Sling Bag link]


My brother-in-law received a ribbed wool hat, although he doesn't have to roll the brim like I did for my posterity shot. [Ravelry link]


Even Eric was gifted a new pair of socks, here being modeled by my youngest sister, who happens to have smaller feet, thus the bagginess around the ankles.


The best part about his gift is that I worked on them in his presence repeatedly in the weeks leading up to Christmas, including the car trip to Iowa, and the bind-off was accomplished after Eric plopped himself next to me on Christmas Eve. With all that, he was oblivious (he's so used to me knitting that he doesn't take much notice as to what I'm actually making unless I point it out to him). I was glad he didn't take note, because I wanted them to be a surprise but was running out of time.

My mom received some homemade candles (more on that later), and some knit washcloths.


Now time to share the gifts for my nieces. They're both artistic, so I made portable art cases for them [Portable Art Case link]. Here is one closed.


And here is what it looks like once opened.


There's room for a dozen colored pencils, a drawing pad, and a couple activity books. In the small pocket, I threw in Old Maid and Go Fish in their respective pouches. As an aside, I waited to pick up a blank drawing pad until a few days before Christmas, and it was actually pretty difficult to find one. Apparently drawing materials are in short supply for the holidays.

My nephew was the proud new recipient of a dinosaur play mat [Dinosaur Play Mat link]. When folded up, it's not anything impressive.


But when you unfold it, it transforms into a play mat, complete with a movable tree, volcano, and cave, along with boulders and a lake.


For other family members, co-workers and friends, I made candles. I repurposed orphaned teacups and other containers, melted down wax, added dye and aroma, and waited for them to set so I could trim the wicks. I don't have any finished photos, so here's a progress shot.


I also whipped up small tote bags to hold the gifts for the office ladies, although at the last minute, I had to switch patterns once I realized I didn't have enough of the contrasting fabric for this pattern.


And that finally concludes Homemade Christmas for another year. I didn't get things going until Thanksgiving time, but I'm pleased with the outcome.

A Tale of Two Weddings

[This was written last month, thus the November date stamp, but I'm finally getting around to adding the photos and publishing it.]

I am not objective when I see myself in a mirror. I remember when I was hunting for a wedding dress, I had trouble determining which ones I liked while wearing them. My older sister would take photos of me, and only later when I saw the pictures could I objectively determine which ones I liked.

When I began putting on weight after getting married, I didn’t notice how it was accruing until I’d see a photo of myself, and cringe as I thought, “Yikes! Is that how I look to others?” One thing after another contributed to the gain: Eric’s metabolism was higher than mine, so my natural grazing tendencies continued, but larger meals were thrown in as well; when we moved to Indiana, I was no longer on my feet teaching all day, so I was burning fewer calories; while at my desk job, sugary sweets were frequently offered, so while I have more salty cravings than sweet, I partook in the goodies so as not to offend. I probably averaged about five new pounds a year.

This weight loss – over 45 pounds since I was diagnosed last year this week – much like the initial gain, was gradual. A pound or two here or there is so little that I didn’t notice the subtle signs in the mirror. Even the smaller clothing sizes only count for so much. As a typical female, my wardrobe doesn’t consist of one size; we’re not so fortunate to have straightforward, objective numbers that correspond to clothing sizes like males do. In the past, I have had three different sizes being worn at the same time, all fitting identically but each brand choosing their own arbitrary classification for determining a size. And even with weighing less, I can still find my imperfections, so the different profile in a photograph still catches me by surprise.

At Halloween, a couple co-workers dressed up for a lunch potluck. I was helping one with her costume while someone else took photos. I wanted to see the photos later, and there was one of my back, adjusting a costume. My first thought was, “Wow! I’m skinny!” Pardon my vanity, but I’m still shocked at the transformation.

My older sister was married in February of 2008, and my dad was remarried this November 2009. While back home for my dad’s wedding, Eric stumbled upon a photo of me from my sister’s wedding, so I thought I’d offer a couple in comparison.

Here's the one of me in between bridesmaids being goofy while the bride and groom were photographed.


And here's one of Eric and me at my dad's wedding, deliberately trying to recreate the corny prom pose.


I couldn't find the exact one from my sister's wedding that Eric had referenced, but I think you get an idea of what a difference a year of weight loss makes.

Things That Make Me Happy

Getting to run an errand across campus and enjoying all the fall colors and the fact that I didn't need a jacket. Creation is beautiful right now.

Watching someone on their bike riding one-handed while his other hand cradled a wrapped gift as a huge grin creased his face. His excitement was palpable.

Having someone tell me I looked stunning today at work. Today's wardrobe? Simple jeans and a sweater.

Finding a dress for my father's wedding on the first day of searching.

Anticipating a drive to Goshen tomorrow for a knitting retreat. Long, solo car rides are infrequent enough that it will be savored.

Deciding to participate in NaNoWriMo this year. A month of devoted writing sounds selfish, decadent, and exactly what I need.