The first crochet project I ever did took me a full YEAR to finish. I had started a layette when we decided to go off The Pill. The layette is beautiful, but it has become something of a prayer shawl, reminding me of a lot of pain and hours spent bargaining with God. I learned to read the pattern as I read it, and undid as many stitches as I completed. I would pick it up when I needed something to do other than obsess over my basal body temperature chart, and I would put it away when I got too depressed to look at anything baby related. I finally finished it and put it away. That layette was more for me than for a Someday baby.

This baby, the one that is here with me, has a name and a heartbeat full of hope and promise. This baby is real, and wakes up in the middle of the night when I have to go to the bathroom. I felt that this baby deserved a few fresh stitches. Stitches untouched by angst and depression. I picked up the easiest sweater pattern and chunkiest yarn I could find, since I don’t have all year to make another layette. This sweater took me a week to finish. I even made the buttons out of Shrinky Dink paper. How’s that for nesting?

That Guy I Married is getting the nesting bug too. This week I looked up the dimensions of the high-chair we bought, then measured the kitchen, the kitchen table, the microwave stand, the trash can and the dog food storage container. I couldn’t figure out how to make it all fit in the space meant for a kitchen table. That Guy decided “Oh, that’s easy” and went about measuring and redrawing. He ended up opening the box and setting up the high chair. Everything just barely kinda sorta fits. But that’s the way we like it.