I'm not so sure about this parenting thing

So, after a long silence, I’m back. I have been feeling much better, although I am now getting to the point where I feel huge, so the period of comfort was fleeting.

I have come through my company’s busy season in one piece. We do overnight high school graduation parties, so June is crazy busy. Last year I worked the parties themselves; this year, because I didn’t think I could be on my feet all night, instead I stayed in the office overnight and manned the phones—a sort of nerve center of operations for nights when we had multiple parties going on. I worked 11 overnight shifts in a row, and boy, was my sleep schedule messed up!

Prior to the graduation season, it loomed like a huge monolith on the horizon and I could not see past it. Now that I am on the other side, I am thinking about September, when the baby is due. As I start to have trouble getting out of bed each morning (both literally—who knew sitting up was such a chore?—and figuratively—I could sleep all day if I didn’t have to get to work) the baby is making his presence known at every moment.

Oh yes, “his.” It’s a boy. I was surprised, I think because I was assuming the baby was a girl because I’m a girl. Duh.

Anyway, with the graduation season just past, I’ve been thinking about kids and what makes a successful parent. These parties are celebrations of an achievement, yes, but I don’t know that graduating from high school is the landmark it once was. Are these kids really adults now, and are their parents’ jobs really finished? Somehow, I doubt it.

We ask a few of the kids at each party to fill out evaluation forms to let us know what they thought of the party. Reading through them, I’ve been rather appalled at how few high school graduates can spell well, and how few can form complete and coherent sentences. Our boss’s 17-year-old daughter has been working in our office the past few weeks, and when she was asked to file a series of documents alphabetically in boxes, she asked for 24 separate boxes, one for each letter in the alphabet (yes, 24. Don’t ask). She had to have it explained to her several times that when you alphabetize things, each letter doesn’t need to have its own box; you can start with A and keep going though B and C until you run out of room in the first box, then start a new box. And it is not the first time I’ve heard of a teenager being unaware that one continues alphabetizing beyond the first letter of a word. That is, Aaron comes before Abel, and it’s not enough to just throw all the A’s in one spot willy-nilly.

All of this had me very down. I came home and said to my sweetie that I expected our son to be able to write whole sentences without spelling errors, and that he had better know how to alphabetize by the time he hits junior high, much less by the time he’s graduating from high school. I fretted, “What if our kid is stupid and I don’t like him because of that?” It’s one of my faults that I have a very low tolerance for stupidity, and though I’ve worked on it, I don’t know how I’d react if my kid were stupid.

My sweetie looked at me like I was nuts (he often does) and suggested that perhaps, at least on the subject of spelling and alphabetizing, we as parents might have a little bit of influence in the matter. Which I would take comfort in, except that I seriously doubt that any of these kids’ parents set out to make sure their kids didn’t know there are 26 letters in the alphabet.

So, what happened? I mean, I don’t know how much my parents taught me about these things. I know they emphasized the importance of school, and that I should get good grades. But other than trying to teach me the multiplication tables a grade early at home, I don’t recall them really actively helping me with school work or teaching me anything in particular. I definitely learned to alphabetize at school—I can remember it. I assume my boss’s daughter did, too: why didn’t she retain it?

On the other hand, my parents, who both learned English in their teens, never say “lay down” when they mean “lie down,” never say “he and I” (or, worse, “him and I”) when it should be “him and me,” write in complete sentences with good spelling and never confuse “it’s” and “its.” So maybe there’s something to leading by example.

Friends tell me that my sweetie and I will be good parents. But I don’t think anyone plans to be a bad parent, so I want to know: how can you tell? I don’t think my parents were great parents, but they weren’t bad parents. I think they muddled through. I think a lot of parents muddle through. They do the best they can. And school stuff is relatively easy to measure; if I wanted to be obsessive, I could play my son music in the womb, teach him sign language at age one, grill him with flash cards at age three, enroll him in five hundred programs by age six that will teach him three languages, how to do geometry proofs and the basic principles of chemistry by age ten. I am fairly sure that with a little effort I could sit at his high school graduation confident that he knows how to alphabetize.

But: will he know how to think? Will he know how to be compassionate? Will he know how to work hard? Will he know the world doesn't owe him anything?

Hah. Let me fret for now about what I will do if he's stupid. We'll worry next week about what I will do if he's lazy, narcissistic, mean, or downright evil.

In hiding

OK, so, I have been in hiding. I haven't felt much like blogging, or emailing anyone, or talking on the phone, or being a generally socially bearable person. It's hard to go to work. I suspect I am a little depressed.

Why, you might ask?

I'm pregnant.

With that intro, it might be a surprise to hear that this was planned, and I really wanted it. Heck, I still want it--we always knew we wanted kids, and I'm grateful, given how old I am, that it was relatively easy to get pregnant. And so far, things seem to be progressing well.

What I wasn't prepared for was the feeling lousy. For about six to eight weeks there, I felt lousy 24 hours a day, every single day. For the last two or three weeks (I just finished my 16th week), I've been feeling better, but it's precarious: if I eat the wrong thing, or, worse, fail to eat something, I'm back to feeling terrible.

Of course I've heard women complain about feeling lousy during pregnancy. I thought I was prepared for that. But what I wasn't prepared for was the mental and emotional strain of feeling lousy. I don't enjoy being sick--I'm very impatient with it--and feeling lousy every minute of every day for weeks on end tried my patience pretty much to the breaking point. I'm amazed by how little I care to do anything: I don't want to cook or eat (eating doesn't make me nauseated, I just don't feel like eating), I'm not interested in blogging or knitting or working. I just want to sleep all the time, because when I'm sleeping, I don't feel lousy. I am a total wimp.

On top of it, I feel guilty: after all, I'm not barfing fifty times a day, like some women I hear about. I'm not in pain. I just...don't feel 100%. Big, fat, hairy deal. I'm disgusted and embarrassed by how much this has bothered me. I have friends who are struggling with cancer and parents dying, and I'm whining about a little intestinal trouble. I have a sweet, wonderful husband who has made so many accommodations for me and has barely complained that I hardly ever cook any more, I never clean, and I just lie about and don't want to do anything. In fact, a couple weeks ago he actually thanked me for just being quiet and low-energy, and not turning into a demanding unreasonable bitch from hell, which friends of his have said pregnant women generally do. I felt awful that I get points for not being nasty, when actually I think I've been pretty pathetic and letting him/making him do all the work of our marriage.

I commented to people at work that I feel cranky all the time, and they claim that they haven't noticed. In fact, compared to the *last* pregnant woman they had here, I am apparently keeping up my efficiency quite well, even though I feel like I'm working in a fog and taking bathroom breaks every five minutes.

So, maybe the patheticness has been all in my head. I'm not sure how to get out of it, but it's not especially fun. Hopefully if the weather starts to improve I will feel better: last week there were actually some sunny, warmish days, and I was amazed at how much better I felt.

I am in hiding, or maybe it's hibernation. But hopefully I'll be coming out soon.

Playing Catchup

Sooo, I've been very lax updating the blog.  Lots has been going on!

For one thing, we bought a new car:

Well, new to us, anyway.  It's actually a 2000 Mazda MPV, with 110,000 miles on it.  Hey: it was cheap.  It also smells very, very strongly of some sort of nasty aggressive air "freshener".  It smells terrible, but fortunately it's the car my sweetie is driving, and it doesn't bother him as much as it bothers me.  That hasn't stopped him from naming it Stinky, however :-)

Some knitting catchup:

The finished Amused.  I've already worn it several times.  The Cash Iroha doesn't seem like it will wear terribly well, but I still think it's beautiful, and the color just sings.

I made a few mods, the most bizarre of which was making the left sleeve about half and inch longer than the right.  I carry my left shoulder higher, and that made the sleeve look shorter.  The weirdest thing about it is that I don't really notice it in other clothes; maybe it was because I was making this one--I got picky!

Tuesday was out first anniversary--we made it!  We spent the weekend in Vancouver; pics to come.

Serious knitting

So, here are some boring knitting details.  Non-knitters can skip to the end of the entry :-).

I'm almost done with Amused--just one sleeve to go!  I still love the pattern, although I discovered a problem with the collar as written in the pattern, and it caused me considerable agita for a while there.  I fixed it, though, and am rather proud of myself: this is my first real cable project, so having to fix a problem with the cable pattern was not easy, in particular because this is a two-sided cable (ie, it needs to look good from both sides of the fabric).  It involved a fair bit of frogging, which didn't make the yarn very happy, but it was worth it.

I still love the yarn, which is really lovely deep purple (the pics are not really accurate).  I am looking forward to being able to wear this one--when I try it on (the advantage of a top-down construction), it looks really nice.  I'm pretty happy about this, too, because to be honest, I don't wear a lot of my handknits, because I usually make something where I love the pattern, but the finished project is a little too wild or uncomfortable or sleeveless for me to wear often.  I think this one is a winner, though.

Knitting content over now; feel free to turn up the volume :-).

So, I haven't mentioned it on the blog, but my sweetie has landed a new job.  He managed this feat just two weeks after he received his notice at WaMu, before Christmas.  It was a huge load off our minds, let me tell you!  We were especially amused by my parents' reaction: you see, I've only known my sweetie for three years, and my dad only met him after we got engaged (my mom had met him a few months prior, when she came to NY for a visit), so they don't know him well.  My parents *like* him, but I think they were not sure of the content of his character, as they say, and so when they heard he had been laid off from WaMu, after he had had me quit my job, uproot my life, and move all the way across the country for him, they were worried.  The lousy economy did not help--it would be tough for anyone to find a job right now.

Not that they said any of this to us, mind you: they're not *that* tactless!  But in their joyful reaction to the news he has found a new job, it became apparent.  By finding a job so fast, in the middle of the holiday season, before the end of his notice at WaMu, even, so that he did not have a single day unemployed, he has proven himself to be a Worthy Provider for their daughter.  They were extremely impressed.  He is clearly the Best Son-in-Law ever.  My dad emailed, "Now M----- can stay home and have babies."

Knitting

It's snowing again.  We've already got two inches.  Bleah.  Time for some knitting pics:

This is the Cobblestone pullover I started knitting for my sweetie last year.  I had to stop because of my shoulder injury, but picked it up again in time for this Christmas.  Actually, looking back at that post, I am very proud to say that I completed all three of those projects :-).

Right now I am working on Amused:

I am knitting this out of some Noro Cash Iroha I've had lying about for a couple of years, waiting for the perfect project.  I am loving it, frankly.  The gauge is not what's called for in the pattern, so I am making a larger size, and I've made some modifications, but I'm staying pretty true to the pattern.  I love the yarn, and so far I love the pattern.  It's my second top-down sweater (well, third, if you count a WIP I haven't finished), and I do like the top-down construction.  No seaming!  I hate seaming.  It also used a crochet provisional cast-on, which was so easy it may become my favorite provisional cast-on.  We'll see what I think once I unravel the crochet chain and pick up the stitches.

The cable border on the placket is really appealing to me, which is kind of interesting: I haven't much liked doing cables in the past.  But this is a pretty easy cable, and it's so pretty in the Cash Iroha I'm totally charmed.  Cash Iroha is probably not the best yarn for doing cables--the thick-and-thin quality of the yarn is kind of at odds with even, regular cables.  But since it's not an all-over cable, and the yarn has such a pretty glow from the silk content, I'm not caring.  Can't wait to get this done so I can wear it!

Last hurrah

It's supposed to warm up this week.  Of course, you couldn't tell when we woke up: it was snowing again.  And it's supposed to snow again tonight.  But in the middle of the afternoon, it crept up over freezing, and it's supposed to each day this week.  So, before the snow is gone forever, I decided to take advantage of it:

What's this giant pile of snow in my front yard?

Yes, I built an igloo.

When I was a kid growing up in Illinois, I always wanted to build an igloo, but I never did.  Maybe the snow was never right.  Maybe I got tired.  Maybe I just didn't have enough understanding of how to build things.  I don't remember why, but I never managed it.  Then a few days ago we drove by another block in our neighborhood, and one of the houses has a huge igloo, at least eight feet tall.  You could stand up in it.  I got jealous.

So, with the weather over freezing and the snow nice and wet, I put my mind to it.  My sweetie dug snow, and I built.  The neighbor's kids "helped" by throwing snowballs at both of us during construction :-).

It's pretty big inside.  You can't stand up in it, but there's lots of room for sprawling.

When we dug into the snow in the front yard, I'd have to say it was at least twelve inches deep.  Amazing.  I built the igloo from the sides up; it probably would have been easier to make a giant pile of snow and dig into it, since we certainly had enough snow, but I didn't want to take the easy way.  It'll probably be all melted tomorrow, and my back is pretty sore after all that digging and packing, but hey: one of my life's ambitions is fulfilled!

Real football

Well, we did it:

I pulled out my long down coat, my sweetie put on long johns, and we went.

It snowed the entire game.  I loved it!  In my opinion, real football is played in the snow.  Football played in air conditioned domed stadiums in hot states is pansy football.  If we were only going to see one game this season (and we are), I am glad it was a real game.

Alas, the Jets lost.  Oh well, you can't have everything.  We enjoyed ourselves thoroughly nonetheless, and were glad we braved the elements and this stubbornly plow-free city to go.

OK, this is ridiculous

OK, I love snow, but this is kind of ridiculous.

It snowed again on Thursday morning, and then again last night.  And each time, it snowed a lot.  Thursday morning I attempted to go to work, in the pouring snow.  My sweetie came with me, because we were nervous about the driving.  And rightfully so: when we turned the corner to go down the hill, we sliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid out of control to the bottom.  Very slowly, but still: I was scared.  It didn't help that there was a kid sledding on the hill.  In the street.  When we got to bottom, I turned to my sweetie, and said, "I'm not going to work."  We returned home and had a two-hour snowball fight with the neighborhood kids (and their parents).  (Embarrassingly, my throwing arm and all down my right side were really sore on Friday and Saturday.  Sheesh.)

Then last night, this:

Can you tell we had a huge snowball fight in our backyard on Thursday?  The snow was all torn up.  There were snow angels.  Really, there were.

See the arrow pointing out the walkway in front of house?  This walkway was totally cleared yesterday morning.  We are responsible homeowners!  We shoveled the walk!  Sigh.

For Christmas, I got my sweetie tickets to the Jets game.  People around here keep calling it the Seahawks game, but what do they know?  Anyway, the game is today.  I don't know how we're going to get there.  Seattle is totally unprepared for snow.  They never plowed after Thursday, so all this new snow is on top of packed three-day-old ice.  People are trapped in their homes.  As someone who grew up with snow and snow plows that start going even before the snow has started accumulating, I am finding this a little maddening.  My sweetie saw the city official in charge of streets clearing on the news, and they asked him how he planned to deal with this.  His answer was essentially, "Hopefully it will get warmer."

We're thinking if we go to the game we will start early.  Maybe we will walk.