I love my boys beyond reason, as I'm sure most parents would say about their kids. I love that I get to spend every day with them, and I don't take them to day care (no judgements on moms who do, it's just that we can't afford day care for two infants). I get to watch their milestones and discoveries. While I'd love to say that every moment was like parenting magic, it's a joke to put on rosy glasses and make people believe that I'm a smiling ball of bliss all day long. Most of my daily moments with the boys are filled with slopped baby mush. I get up in the morning to get processed baby mush off the boys bums, and sometimes my hands. I then go to the cupboard to pick out which baby mush they will eat this morning...spoon spoon spoon...slop slop slop...wipe wipe wipe....times two. Repeat for lunch and dinner. It's a lot of goo, all day long. And it can sometimes turn me into goo. Just ask Amy, who has become accustomed to coming home to a wife who is herself, now baby mush. She does her very best to revitalize me, usually by making dinner and keeping her mouth shut about the outrageous messes around the house, and the mountain of laundry living permenantly in the hallway.
This weekend, I got to get away for a sanity saver, all by myself, with no babies, and just one small suitcase and a knitting bag. When Amy, Grayson and Ben dropped me off at the airport on Saturday afternoon to fly to Salt Lake, I kept finding myself looking around to see what I was forgetting. There was no diaper bag spilling toys and spoons all over the floor. There was no stroller, no car seats, no baby in my arms or being carted off for an emergency change of clothing. The only babies crying were not my responsibility. I marched into the airport to check my one tiny bag feeling possitively, rediculously giddy.
I got lots of knitting done while I flew to Salt Lake. My mom and Jenny picked me up at the airport, and we went to out to a piano bar. Jenny and I had a grand time requesting nostalgic 80's songs, and making fun of mom because the only songs she recognized were the Neal Diamond ones.
Sunday afternoon was the whole reason I planned the trip in the first place. I wanted to go see humor-writer-and-fabulous-knitter Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, aka The Yarn Harlot, speak on her new book tour. I brought my mom along for the ride, and made her get there early. We were surrounded by incredible knitting talent, including Miriam Felton who was spinning something lovely in the seat in front of me, and sock genious Nancy Bush was just a few seats away. I made a complete fool of myself telling Miriam that I thought she was pure genious, and decided that I should just keep my mouth shut and admire Nancy from afar.
Stephanie was everything you'd expect her to be...funny, entertaining, inviting, down-to-earth, and brilliant. Then I made my mom hang around the library while I waited in line for her to sign my book. I brought a pic of the boys, and she even invited me to hold the traveling sock for a blog pic. Wohoo! If you don't get it, that's ok. If you do, you'll know it was the highlight of the trip.
It was an ideal weekend, and a good recharge for my soul. I missed my boys just enough to make coming home a joy, and I got lots of knitting done, including finishing these socks for my mom (happy mother's day!!):
Oh, and Knittyotter? That bag you gave me was a huge hit with the Utah knitters, I was making them all jealous with my fabulous bag. Best bag ever! (you can kinda see it, right there, with the Yarn harlot! in that picture of me, with the yarn harlot! ha ha)
