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In a Whirl

I can hardly believe it has been nearly a month since I last blogged... Time goes by so quickly, these days. It is amazing how completely one tiny girl can occupy a life. My job hunt continues slowly, and not very optimistically. It seems like everything that sounds interesting is wanting some extremely specialized experience. I am starting to consider at what point I should perhaps think about a career switch. The silver lining is that at least I get to stay with my baby... who is less a baby, and more a little girl, each day.

She walks, now. Her first confirmed, unsupported steps were taken amidst a houseful of guests the evening she hit nine months old - nearly a month ago, now. I've counted her taking as many as 10 in a row - she may have done more by now, but I haven't been counting, of late. She still prefers to hold onto furniture, somebody's finger, or a wall, or to crawl, for long distances, but I've seen her toddle enough to know that she CAN walk, when she feels she wants to, and the desire to do so is slowly increasing. She babbles regularly, and it seems her first intentional word could come at any time. She has started turning her nose up at ground meats, preferring instead to finger-feed herself small pea-sized bits. Her hair, always plentiful for her age, is getting long - to the point where I have to do something with it, to keep it from covering her eyes. She is a happy and energetic, if sometimes a bit demanding, child.

While she can play more independently than ever before, she requires more watching, which means I find myself with somehow both more and less time, simultaneously. I can often get more knitting and such done, as she plays, but not so much the housework, as her increased ability to get into things means I have to stay where I can see her, and I can only have her in the kitchen for so long before she starts trying to get into the returnables. I haven't yet figured out how to clean out that corner to the point where it is less of a problem. Not that there is much that I think she can hurt herself on, there, but a few weeks ago, she managed to pull a plastic flower pot off of a small table, over there, and showered herself in potting soil - I'd rather not have a repeat of that. I really need to carve out some time on a weekend to give some areas around here an overhaul. In particular, I'd like to get her room to the point where she can pretty much have run of it. It seems strange to not be able to leave her in her room for even 30 seconds, unless she's in her crib.

At least I've been managing to squeeze in bits of time to work on yarn-based stuff. I've slowed down on the Christmas knitting, to work on a project with an earlier deadline - a crocheted "Birthstone blanket" for KatyBeth. I don't usually crochet, but I think most of the patterns in this particular book are nifty, and while I don't generally care for the look of crocheted fabric, for garments, I think it often works well for blankets. I have, as one might expect, started "November", in Plymouth Galway (which is a nice basic wool, in a good-sized skein, at a decent price), in a nice, golden yellow that I think is a pretty good "topaz" color. I'm further bolstered by the fact that a friend of mine, who also has a November birthday agrees it is a good representation of the stone's hue.

Given how much yarn it takes, it is still a fairly expensive project, for someone like me who has worked mostly with acrylic, and it will require special washing, but I'm hoping this will be a durable, long-lasting item, and given it is to be a full-sized blanket, rather than a baby one, she won't outgrow it. The special washing doesn't seem too bad, since I learned how to use the washing machine to "hand wash" (hint: soak and spin, just don't use the agitation), and it is a blanket, which, since KatyBeth is past her frequent spitting-up days, shouldn't need laundering too frequently. My hope is to give my baby girl, on her first birthday, this blanket that I made for her, that she can always keep - something to wrap herself in, when she's ill; to spread on the floor, for pretend picnics and tea parties with dolls and stuffed animals; to snuggle into in front of the TV, or with a book, or to study, when she's in high school; something to take with her as a reminder of home, when she's off at college someday; and maybe to toss over the back of a sofa or such, when she someday has her own place. High hopes for a blanket, I know, but the hopes and dreams are part of what goes into the making. Besides, I think I'll still be happy, if it falls apart, having been loved to pieces, before she hits 10 years old.