It's kind of amazing just how much everything else slows down or comes to a halt when you have a week old baby in the house. It's been a couple days and I still haven't managed to re-do the second mitten. Well. Thats not to say I haven't been working on it, I'm sneaking in a row here and there, ((wow a whole 24 stitch row... ))
He's not even Colicky. God that would just destroy us I think. Last night was about the closest he came. He let us get to sleep for an hour or two, then woke up demanding loudly that the bottomless pit of Mini Monster tummy be filled. Which, at least last night, started to look like an impossible task. Partially because he was just especially hungry; partially because once he got a little bit of food in him, he'd remember that yes he was fairly awake, and OH. Wasn't -that- cool; whatever that was... and start staring at things in that Baby-doing-memorization way until he fell asleep again. Only if you tried to move him: He'd wake up. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Then around one-ish in the morning, he finally decided his tank was full and his diapers were going to stay empty for a little while, and zonked out with my Husband and I until this morning. So at the moment I'm chilling in our room trying to get a little knitting in ((and blogging)) while watching Mini Monster. Mini Monster is sort of half asleep but fascinated by the patterns on the bed-spread we got. I think it's supposed to be Crown Vetch.
Crown Vetch is an interesting plant, IMHO. It's one of those insanely fast growing kind that has interconnected roots, so you practically have to back hoe and put new soil down to get rid of it, but it will also grow where a lot of other plants can't. ((My dad still resists the concept of trying to put it between the barns at my folks place.)) It's really pretty much a weed, but it's actually a very pretty weed. Just insidious if it gets where you DON'T want it.
It's one of those things that always reminds me of Dad's occasional garden failures. ((He's actually a really good gardener, but these things happen.))
I remember at least one time where we all argued for one plant to be left ((which he killed)) and insisted another was superior and 'not a weed'. The 'Not a weed' had the ugliest looking... and smelling, blooms we had ever seen, and tried to blast it's way through the garden like Napoleon on the march. It was eventually removed.
Just a random drabble since it always makes me wonder, to this day, how some things become 'weeds' and some things become 'flowers'.
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