I Get a Kick Out of You

My, how Baby has grown!

From a line on a test, to a tiny indistinguishable bump, to a heartbeat in a doctor's office, to a ten 1/2 inch, 12 ounce mini-child, motherhood is turning out to be amazing.

Granted, it's gross. I smell everything. I puke a lot. I'm tired. I can't control my gas. A miniscule amount of garlic makes me smell of it for 12 hours. But my favorite, most motivating thing thus far has not been the growing belly but....

The kicks.

As any veteran mom knows, they start out like gas, little bubbles that leave you questioning. Was that the baby? Or should I have skipped the onions?

But then, almost out of nowhere, Baby kicked. Baby kicked HARD.

One of the amazing things to me is how my baby will kick to get my attention, and if I tap my belly or place my hand, the baby will kick smack dab in the middle of it. It's my first bonding experience. This is more than "I'm eating food you're eating!" This is more than "I can hear your heart." This is, "Here is my hand, HI! I love you," and getting a response. This is the baby loving me so much. This is my baby saying, "Feel how strong I am!" And then I remember why I decided to follow through with this pregnancy thing in the first place.

Getting 'Knit'-Picky

My new nesting craving, so to speak, is making things for the baby.

It started when I went to pick up a prenatal listener to listen to nugget in my belly (which I had to return anyway, because I ruined my birthday present!). Walking past the yarn aisle, I regained a sudden urge to purchase yarn and a crochet hook and make a baby blanket. So I did. Of course, I never do things right the first time, so I ended up changing my mind about 20 times before deciding on a final pattern and yarn for the blanket.

However, I noticed quickly that I was running out of the yarn I had chosen for the blanket--a thick, soft, almost velour white yarn. So, as usual, Jenny and I got bored and decided to go out to dinner/Hobby Lobby.

At first I was pissed that they didn't carry my yarn, but then Jenny stumbled upon some knit-stuffed animals, packaged and made by this company. Spiders, teddy bears, giraffes, lions, zebras, etc. Granted, they were ten bucks per pack but I figured it was worth it for something that would keep me busy. Plus, I thought, it would be a great addition to the Safari animals theme that had happened upon baby and me around Christmas-time. So I picked up the lion and decided that, by weekend's end, I would have completed the damn thing and decided if I wanted to make the rest.

We got home, put on a movie, and I sat down with a vicious determination to 'tame the beast.' Maybe a bit too hastily, I started knitting. The pattern had asked for garter stitch when I had begun working the stockinette stitch. 

Shit.

By the time I realized this, I had to decide if I was going to start completely over and lose some of the minimal yarn the kit had supplied me with, or continue in stockinette. Frantic, I tried to convince myself that stockinette was better anyway. "Damn patterns," I said to myself. "Anyone can follow them, but it takes a real knitting badass to modify them!"

And then my self limiting talk kicked in, saying stupid stuff like "Well the baby's going to think you're lazy" and "Everyone will be able to tell you messed it up." So I countered it. "NO! The baby's going to be like, dude, you guys suck for saying that it's ugly, it's MY lion and my mom's awesome for not following the rules! She's a knit-revolutionary."

I was having a lot of fun imagining that my kid will be born with an automatic knowledge of all things knit, but then I realized the baby will just cuddle it because I put it there, or because it smells like me.

Cheers to knitting, and completing ugly, lumpy animals for your kids to love.