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Saturday, October 6, 2012

Without The Curds and Whey

And I am not, I repeat not, by any stretch of the imagination Little Miss Muffet and I sorely resent the spider in question for mistaking me for her.  Although maybe the bottle I was feeding Emmy was a stand in for the curds and whey. 

I have a rather large living room.  It's big enough to fit two huge leather sectionals and a big area rug, with room left over.  It's a big room and my baby's head is rather small, so I'm trying to figure out how the stars aligned so perfectly as to have a bungee jumping spider attempt to land on her sweet fuzzy peach of a head.

So here's how it went down.  I am feeding my little Squishy her bottle, reading my Kindle as all the children in the room zone out to the TV (which isn't normal in our home, but we are in survival mode and the TV is a good way to keep them all sedated and not scratching themselves to a bloody mess.  And yes, even the non-poxxed kids are having sympathic cootie type itching...)  Something catches my eye and I just wave my arm away, somehow thinking this invader of my periphial vision is a flying something or other.  I zone in with my poor eyesight so I can swat effectively when it finally hits me this thing I am swatting at is a repelling spider and it's target is my baby's head.  HER HEAD.  What the heck?  It took seconds for me to scream so loud my throat felt like a thousand tiny daggers on fire had just stabbed through my vocal cords, the baby to become hysterical by the scream and the lightning-like jump from the couch, my oldest to run in and grab the baby (like I was on fire...the look on his face was priceless) and for me to do a sort of "I just won a million dollars on a stupid game show" dance, while manically screaming "Is it on me? Is it on me? Is it on her?  Is there a spider on me?"  Once it was settled that there wasn't an eight legged bastard on my person (or the baby's) I grabbed the most violent weapon I could (a bag of baby wipes) and started pounding the seat in which I was so nicely warming just moments before as the children watched me in complete amusement and tenatively asking "Uhm, what are you DOING??"  It took about ten minutes before I was satisfied that even if I couldn't SEE a spider, it was surely dead by this point (Dude, the whole thing with invisible fleas and bedbugs should not in any way reflect on my ability to recognize a VISIBLE spider coming down onto my baby's head) 

You know, it's times like these I really do wonder how I'd fare in some sort of zombie end-of-world scenario.  Despite my dire lack of physical fitness, I can't help but be impressed with my speed and volume when the adrenaline gets pumping.  I'd like to think that violently pounding the couch with a bag of baby wipes could totally translate into an ass kicking of epic proportions if the enemy, rather than some smart-assed arachnid, was you know, dead and coming towards me for a flesh feast. I could totally imale the thing in the head and think nothing of it.

In other news, my house is TAH-RASHED.  This is oddly self-esteem enhancing.  When you go through your days thinking nothing you do is of any value or purpose, it's enlightening to see what happens to you house when you Do Nothing instead of "Doing Something and Getting Nothing Done."  Who knew?  Turns out that without my constant nagging, and without people to respond to that nagging, my house sort of implodes.  That means my nagging and doing nothing everyday is way more valuable to this family than actually doing nothing.  This also means that today my house needs some major de-nastifying, otherwise it might be mistaken for the county dump.  Bring on the Pine-Sol.  Sorry kids, the TV sedation is over.  I can tell by your flaunting around the house that you feel better and if you feel better, time to get to work. 

In knitting news: There was this one really popular pattern that I really did think was (kind of sorta...okay REALLY) butt ugly and I had no idea why anyone would knit it.  It's a FAMOUS pattern (Don't believe me.  Check Raverly.  There are EIGHTEEN THOUSAND project listings for this pattern)  So I'm over at Yarn Harlot, catching up on her archives and see she has made it.  Well then, if she's made it, it's officially Not Stupid, and furthermore, she made it with some yarn that turned out something adorable rather than goodwill donation material.  Which pretty much sealed the deal.  I must make this Baby Surprise Jacket.  I was pretty intent on casting on today.  I mean with that many projects, I knew the pattern would be easy to find. Probably a free download. 

Nope.  $10.  For a pattern I didn't even like 10 minutes ago.  Worth it or not?  I'll get through about 30 pages of projects before I make up my mind.  You'd think the clincher would be "Do I have stash yarn for this?"  You'd think if I DID have the yarn, I'd definitely want to get the pattern, but in Knitter World, the exact opposite is true.  If the pattern requires me to shop for NEW yarn, it will be more likely I'll buy it than if I didn't have to buy new yarn.  Kind of twisted, eh?  But those are the rules in Knitter World and why I'm a proud citizen.  New Yarn is always better than Stash Yarn.  Always.

Baby is fussing, house is growing odd sort of plant like things in odd places and I've got 18,000 baby surprise jackets to look through.  Busy, busy day.  Don't you wish you were this important?

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