Dead Tired

S three weeks old

As the weeks of my pregnancy progress I find myself mentally willing to whip around everywhere visiting, organising, doing...but my body is starting to nag at me. I'm tired.

With my body starting to betray my will, I am taken back to those early days with S when the tiredness of a first time parent hit like a tonne of bricks. I'm trying not to feel apprehensive that I'm going back there again.

I'm told 2nd time around it's not such a shock and you're used to not sleeping through the night. Here's hoping... :)

Photo-less

I've been creating.

Nesting is a wonderful, wonderful thing - so much gets done. I think we'll all miss the nesting in this household when its replaced with sleep deprivation and the inevitable mess. My neat freak Big Fella will particularly miss it. God love him.

What has me in a tizz is that I can't find my camera. I took it out of my handbag to take a pic of a scarf I made for S and...gone. Can't remember putting it down. Don't have a clue where it is. And so I'm photoless for showing and telling on my blog. My descriptive talents aren't too bad, but I draw the line at show and tell without the show part.

So until my camera reappears...this little space is going to have to wait.

Wish me luck - I think it's time to get down on my hands and knees and look under things. 33 weeks pregnant. Joy.

Knitting Nannies

Our weekly knitting group is going great guns. 5 months in and usually every week there's at least a few that gather to click needles and chat. The Big Fella calls us the "Knitting Nannies" - an adaptation of the term "Knitting Nancy" which is a french knitting toy we used as kids. Apparently he's not up to speed on how super cool knitting is again, and thinks I'm getting all granny on him.

Anyhoo, I've been pregnant since we started our group so my attendance is optimistically hoped for each week...but as I get closer to my due date the tiredness is increasing (so tired I could cry if you even look at me, kind of tired), so I either attend with something mind numbingly simple to knit or opt out to spare these lovely ladies from an outburst of tears the kind of which they may see daily with their toddlers anyway (why put them through more?).

Having said that - I have completed my second project. I started it in February and finished it in August. A childs scarf took me 6 months, but it's done. Lined with cute spotted fabric (I'm addicted to paisley and spots at the moment), S has been wearing it for the past couple of months and it works a treat.

The satisfaction of seeing her running around outside in a beanie and scarf that I made brings me more pleasure than I ever would have expected.

Now, onto the next project...

******************************************************

I just wanted to thank you for your kind and supportive comments on my last post. It means so much to me xxx

Celebrating life

There are some of us who live our lives among the rest of you and seem to the naked eye to be as normal as the next person. In my case if you have a closer look, you'll see a scar. It's not there for all to see but it is ragged from a wound opening many times over the years. These days I'm happy to say it's getting silvery with age - the wound has not been torn open so much in recent years.

But the hurt has been deep. Penetrating. Breath-takingly deep.

Such is the hurt felt when you lose a loved one. In my case, my dad. 21 years ago today.

When I'm pregnant I think of him more frequently. Wonder what he would have been like as a grandfather. Would he like me as a parent? Would he melt into a thousand pieces in her presence like my mum does?

In 21 years you'd think I'd have let all the hurt go and just think of him fondly. Today I think I can say that I'm getting there. Real close. While driving a couple of weeks ago I thought of dad and then heard this clear, peaceful, strong voice in my head say "You need to let him go. It's ok that he's not here". I don't hear this voice often - but when I do I know it's not my thoughts. It's something so much more. And then something happened while driving through the Mooroolbark 5 ways round-a-bout. I gave in. I took a deep breath, shed a silent tear...and felt my body relax with relief.

Turns out I have been holding on so tightly to him that I never let myself feel his loss and move through it. In holding on I hadn't let go of the pain either...but I think it's time. He's not here and I'm ok. I have a beautiful life that needs every part of me present to enjoy it. It's time to let go and live in the moment, not the past, or in fear of the future and what loss may be ahead for me. There is so much to look forward to.

So today I choose to celebrate the life of one Peter Christensen. Thank you for being my loving, perfectionist, creative, compassionate, flawed, father. I am like you in so many ways and choose to carry your life, and not your death, with me from now on. Because your life is worth celebrating, and so is mine. x