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Do you remember how my apartment complex was all, "We're going to make your life really difficult with 48 hours notice!" a little while back? Well, today was the day.
I'll end the suspense and let you down gently: it wasn't as particularly hellish. It did help that we actually did get 48 hours notice and I made sure to prepare myself for a difficult day. I squeezed in a shower before Matt left so I wouldn't have to worry about someone walking in on me in the middle of the afternoon, and I even picked up a donut from the grocery store last night to save for this morning. Because even a stale, day-old donut is a good way for a pregnant woman craving sugary baked goods to prepare for a difficult day.
I think the worst part of the entire thing was the lack of communication. No one knew how long they'd be in my apartment (Haven't these guys been working on these apartments for weeks?!) and they'd leave saying they'd be back, "In a little while," which, obviously means different things to different people, including my two-year-old, who is pretty "a little while" longer strapped in her highchair is about 35 seconds. The process involved lots of furniture moving, cutting holes in walls, drywall dust flying everywhere, and tools scattered throughout the apartment. The process took about two hours, during which my active toddler needed to be confined to either her high chair or her crib, and we never knew for how much longer. Plus maintenance men, cable technicians, bug guys (pretty much any male in a uniform carrying foreign objects) is a mega seizure trigger for poor Puff-puff.
The guys weren't thrilled to discover I hadn't moved any furniture, but after I said with a laugh over my six-month-pregnant belly, "Well, I'm not moving anything!" They snapped into gear and began moving things without breaking anything. They were also pretty polite about giving us another hour when they arrived in the middle of a physical therapy session. All this mess so that we can have better cable television. And we own neither a tv nor pay for a television package.
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I want to thank everyone who commented on my previous post with regard to the baptismal dress and early Baptisms. I was surprised at how many other people baptize early as well, as a matter of course. I have been plugging away at the dress for an hour or two each night (good thing I have three more months!) and I thought I'd post a picture because, hey, this post needs more pictures.
I've officially started the skirt (the dress has an empire waist). And I do have to say that the pattern isn't hard so much as it's intricate. It is still definitely for an advanced crocheter, in part because the pattern is written for an audience that is experienced, but also because it takes a lot of endurance. My favorite part of starting a new pattern is discovering how it works. What stitch forms those ripples in the afghan? How did they make the texture in that clutch? Or, in the case of this dress, how did they make those pineapples? Once I find out, it's a little bit of disenchantment, like finding out the secret behind a magician's trick. Now that I know how to make dress, I kind of want to move on to a conquer a new pattern. The second challenge with any project is the endurance part. Now I know how it works, now I have to do it! Usually it takes me a few rows before the urge leaves me and I get excited about the challenge of finishing. But don't worry, I rarely give up on a project.
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Abigail appears to want to skip her nap today, for the second day in a row! The kid is not ready to phase out naps yet, as evidenced by the giant grouchy-monster that she becomes by 4pm on non-nap days. If Abigail doesn't nap today, we may be walking the 1.5 miles to Big Boy to buy a milkshake - snow be damned - otherwise I'm going to turn into a giant grouchy-monster by 4pm.
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The other update I think may interest you right now (cause I know my beverage cravings are of utmost interest), is that Matt and I have finalized a name for this baby. First and middle.
But to heighten your suspense, I'm not going to tell you. We're not releasing the name because I really don't want to be one of those people who has horror stories of family members sitting them down and trying to talk them out of it and also so that we can change our minds if we don't like the name once we meet her.
Matt and I are early-name-people. We started talking about names long before we were trying for Abigail, and we usually start chatting seriously as soon as we see the "+" on the pregnancy test. So yes, we have a name, we have Godparents (she cried when I asked her - it was quite flattering), and we have kicking at this very moment.