Santa Claus Doily

How adorable is this little Santa doily?

It was posted in a group I'm in by someone looking for a pattern.  I looked for it.  Others did as well.  No luck :(  But the I ran across some charts that were supposed to be for it.  Upon study and comparison, they were close, but not quite right.  So I took it upon myself to write up a pattern for it.

Santa Claus Doily

Santa head (make 6)

With white, ch4, join

Rnd 1: ch3 (counts as dc), 7 dc, change to pink, 8 dc, change to white and join to beg ch3 (16 dc, 8 white, 8 pink)

Rnd 2: ch3, dc in same dc, 2dc in next 3 dc, 3dc next dc, 2dc next 3 dc, change to pink, 2 dc next 8 dc, change to white and join to beg ch3 (33 dc, 17 white, 16 pink)

Rnd 3: ch1, sc in each dc, join to first sc (33 sc)

Working in rows

Ch1, sc in same sc, *ch4, sk next sc, sc in next sc* 7 times, ch2, sk next sc, dc in next sc (8 ch4 space) ch1, turn

Sc in same sp, *ch4, sc in next sp* 7 times (7 ch4 space)  FO

For hat, in the unworked sc over pink half

Row 1:  sk 4 sc, join red with sc, sc in next 7 sc, turn, leave last 4 sc unworked (8 sc)

Row 2: ch2, dc in sc to last 2 sc, dc2tog in last 2 sc, turn (6 st)

Row 3: ch2, dc in next dc 3 times, dc2tog in last 2 st, turn (4 st)

Row 4: ch 2, dc3tog in next 3 st (1 st) FO

***Alternate for white pom on hat***

Row 3: ch2, dc next dc, dc2tog twice (3 st) FO

Row 4: With white, join with slst to middle st, ch2, 7dc in same st, ch 2, slst in same st, FO

Doily

*** Special stitches***
beg shell = ch4 (counts as first tr), tr, ch1, 2 tr in sp indicated

Shell = 2 tr, ch1, 2 tr in sp indicated

With green, ch5, join

Rnd 1: Ch3,  dc, ch1, *2dc, ch1* 5 times, join to beg ch3 (12 dc, 6 ch1 space)

Rnd 2: slst in next dc and in ch1 sp, beg shell in same sp, ch2, *shell in next sp, ch2* 5 times, join to beg ch4 (24 tr, 6 ch1 space, 6 ch2 space)

Rnd 3: slst in next tr and in ch1 sp, beg shell in same sp, ch2, sc in next ch2 sp, ch2, *shell in next ch1 sp, ch2, sc, ch2* 5 times, join to beg ch4 (24 tr, 6 ch1 space, 12 ch2 space, 6 sc)

Rnd 4: slst in next tr and in ch1 sp, beg shell in same sp, ch8, sk next 2 ch2 sp, *shell in next ch1 sp, ch8, sk next 2 ch2 sp* 5 times, join to beg ch4 (24 tr, 6 ch1 space, 6 ch8 space)

Rnd 5: slst in next tr and in ch1 sp, ch3, 2dc in same sp, ch1, sc in middle ch4 of Santa beard, ch1, 3dc in same sp, 8 sc in next ch8 sp, ch9, sk next ch4 sp, sc in next ch4 sp of Santa beard, ch3, sk 3 ch of doily, slst in next ch, ch 6, sc in next ch4 sp of Santa beard, ch3, sk 3 ch of doily, slst in next ch, ch 6, slst in same ch as previous slst, ch3, sc in first ch 4 sp of next Santa beard, ch3, sk 3 ch of doily, slst in next ch, ch 6, sc in next ch4 sp of Santa beard, ch3, sk 3 ch of doily, slst in next ch, ch6, 8sc in same ch8 sp, *3dc next ch1 sp, ch1, sc in middle ch4 of Santa beard, ch1, 3dc in same sp, 8 sc in next ch8 sp, ch9, sk next ch4 sp, sc in next ch4 sp of Santa beard, ch3, sk 3 ch of doily, slst in next ch, ch 6, sc in next ch4 sp of Santa beard, ch3, sk 3 ch of doily, slst in next ch, ch 6, slst in same ch as previous slst, ch3, sc in first ch 4 sp of next Santa beard, ch3, sk 3 ch of doily, slst in next ch, ch 6, sc in next ch4 sp of Santa beard, ch3, sk 3 ch of doily, slst in next ch, ch6, 8sc in same ch8 sp* 5 times, join to beg ch3, FO

Enjoy!  If you find any errors or have any questions, please contact me.  I'm happy to help.

Was it a sign? Or just a coincidence?

On my way to work last night, I was listening to the radio (like most people do while driving, right?) and contemplating my life, my friendships and my pain. (There were commercials on at the time.  LOL)  The experience of my last pregnancy damaged me in ways that I'm not sure I'll ever heal from fully.  And my friendships have suffered. Most of those who saw me through that time in my life treat me differently now, if they're even around at all.  So many people pulled away, not being able to handle the pain of it.  They didn't know what to say or what to do.  Somehow, to them, I was suddenly different.  I became this unfamiliar creature who was broken and in danger of falling apart.  So I started to hide.

Not literally, of course.  I had a job I went to every day.  I had a life.  And, of course, I couldn't hide my pregnancy.  I was HUGE.  But I could hide my pain, make everyone believe that I was OK.  It didn't change much, though.  They still treated me like I was damaged and no longer me.  Even now, I still hide.  Four years later, I am still mourning the loss of my youngest son.  Four years later, I still cry (when I'm alone).  And four years later, I wondered as I drove, why?

Why, when we hear someone we know and have known for a long time has experienced a tragedy, do we suddenly treat them differently?  For me, all I wanted was normalcy.  When the doctors told us that Christopher would die before or very soon after he was born, my world turned into something I didn't recognize anymore.  It was all twisted and dark and painful.  It was all wrong.  And suddenly, I was alone.  I didn't know these people I'd called friend for so long.  I tried reaching out, not for them to help me, but just for conversation... About anything, well, anything but Christopher.  But they couldn't face me without seeing it, and they didn't have to if they didn't want to.  I really don't blame them.  If you didn't have to face such a horrifying experience, would you?

But I digress.... And I'm thinking about all these things, and I wondered, What would happen if I stopped hiding?  How many (more) of my friends would turn away from me, not being able to stand the weight of seeing my pain?  Should I change and truly "let it all out?"  No, I probably shouldn't.  No one likes a whiner, right?  No one will want to be around you.  (evil, nasty little inner voice... it's mean to me most of the time)

And the DJ on the local station came back on, interrupting my ponderings, and played this song.

Just as my mean inner voice convinced me that it was best if I hid pieces of myself from the world, this song played.  Now, it could very well be just a coincidence.  A happy chance, right?  But maybe, just maybe, the universe was giving me a message.

Here are the lyrics if you're not familiar with the song, you need a refresher, or you just want to read the words....

True Colors
(as sung by Cyndi Lauper, written by Billy Steinberg & Tom Kelly)

You with the sad eyes
Don't be discouraged
Oh I realize
Its hard to take courage
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness inside you
Can make you feel so small


But I see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful,
Like a rainbow


Show me a smile then,
Don't be unhappy, can't remember
When I last saw you laughing
If this world makes you crazy
And you've taken all you can bear
You call me up
Because you know I'll be there


And I'll see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful,
Like a rainbow


(When I last saw you laughing)
If this world makes you crazy
And you've taken all you can bear
You call me up
Because you know I'll be there


And I'll see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show


Your true colors
True colors
True colors
Shining through


I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful,
Like a rainbow

4 Years Ago Today...

I woke up before my alarm went off.  Not completely unusual for me, given the circumstances.  You see, I was pregnant and nearly due.  Sleep didn't come easy.  As I lay there waiting for the clock to start beeping at me, I felt a pain.  "That felt like a contraction," I thought.  This wasn't my first go at this.  I noted the time, and I waited.  Five minutes pass and another pain.  And I waited.  Five minutes, another pain.  Repeat a few times.  "Yep, I'm in labor," I thought.  "I should call work to tell them I won't be in."  The day that I'd both looked forward to and dreaded like... well, I can't think of anything horrible enough to compare it to... had arrived.

I'll never forget what Ms. Diva said to me when I said, "I'm in labor."  She said, "Are you sure?"  I chuckled at her and replied, "Yes, Diva, I'm sure.  I have done this before, you know."  With that taken care of, there wasn't much else to do but wait. After a couple hours, I called my friend (and then boss) to let him know what was up.  He had offered to come to the hospital and help keep an eye on Kevin until my parents arrived so my husband could focus more attention on me.  And then I called my parents so they could get ready and start on their 3 hour drive.  And then more waiting.  After another hour or two, I figured it was time to head to the hospital.

I think, by then, it was about 9:30 am.  Hell of a morning, don't you think?  I'll just gloss over most of the rest of the waiting time here as it's about 14 hours worth.  Talking, tv watching, crying, etc.  Eventually (and just as my epidural was wearing off), it was time to push.

And there he was, my perfect little darling Christopher Joseph, at 11:28 pm. The nurse had tears in her eyes as she wiped him off and put him in my arms. She checked his heart briefly and nodded.  Yes, it was still beating.  We all cried.  All of us, except Christopher.  He never made a sound.  We held him and talked to him for nearly an hour before we gave him back to the nurses for a bath.  Sometime during that 45 minutes, Christopher's heart stopped beating and he slipped quietly into the other world on April 13, 2008 at 12:13 am.

I still have no explanation as to why Christopher's heart didn't develop correct.  Even the University cardiologists, the hospital geneticists, the neonatal intensive care obstetricians, none of them could tell us why. It just happens, they would say, in 1 in 1000 cases.  I'll probably never know, and, even if I did know, it wouldn't change anything or make it any better.  They told us, months prior to his birth, that Christopher probably wouldn't live through the pregnancy, but he did.  And if he did, there was an even greater chance (a near impossibility) that he would survive the physical stresses of labor and delivery, but he did.  And, if in the rare chance that he did, there was no chance, none, that he would live for long and there was nothing that they could do for him.  He defied them as much as his little heart could take.  He certainly inherited his mother's stubbornness.

Happy 4th birthday, Christopher.  You're never far from your mama's thoughts.

A poem

I thought I saw you today
While I was walking down the street
I neatly called out your name
And ran to be at your side

It wasn't you, but my heart
Skipped a beat all the same
And then came the loneliness
And the emptiness

I miss you.

An inspiration.... A long time coming

A couple months ago, I ran across an organization on Ravelry called Calvin's Hat's.  (Go to their site to read their story in full)  They distribute itty bitty tiny baby hats to people who experience the loss of a child due to premature birth.  Having experienced the loss of a child myself (due to a heart defect, he was born full term), I felt compelled to participate.  But, at the same time, I hesitated.

My child, Christopher, was born on April 12, 2008.  I am still not anywhere near healed from his loss.  Some days, I wonder if I've even started.  And this pain is what made me hesitate. 

After my loss, my sister-by-choice's niece lost her twin girls, Kilayah and Kiera, in August of 2009.  She was 20 weeks.  A part of me wanted so badly to make something for her girls that she could keep, but I didn't.  The pain, then, was still so crippling that I couldn't bring myself to even try.

Calvin's Hats organization has provided me with the inspiration to begin creating hats for these tiny angels.  The other day, I was compelled to pick up this awesome yarn given to me by my cousin (Thank you again, Ness) and create a hat and then a bonnet.  I didn't really know what I was doing, how big to make it, or anything.  I just started stitching.  After about 5 hats, I figured I should try to find some information on the size or the measurements.  Turns out, the hats I'd created were the perfect size.  I also discovered that the fit on the itty bitty baby doll that belongs to my son Kevin.

So this mission is helping me heal just a little bit more.  I hope you'll take a look at Calvin's Hats and maybe look at your local hospital and see if they need any donations.

Pedestrians have the right of way.

For those of you that don't know my complete lifestyle, let me tell you that I am a full time pedestrian and infrequent bicyclist.  I know the rules that I have to obey as both of those stations in society.  I was, at one time in my life, also a licensed driver, so I know those rules as well.  So when I have my rights as a pedestrian trampled on by some c-bag with an undeserved sense of entitlement, I get a little miffed.

Excerpt from MN Statute 169.222...
"Every person operating a bicycle shall have all of the rights and duties applicable to the driver of any other vehicle..."

Now this would lead me to believe that a bicycle must stop at the same line as any other vehicle at a light controlled intersection.  Wouldn't you agree?  Well, this is what happened today...


We went for a walk and were headed back to our apartment and we were waiting for the light to change at the intersection of Franklin Avenue and Lasalle/Blaisdell Avenue.  The traffic slowed and stopped as the light changed and we began to cross the street.  Just as I stepped out, a bike in the bike lane pulled ALL the way in the crosswalk and directly into the path of my child and me.

I walked right up to her and smile and said, "Hi!" in a friendly tone.

She looked at me, matched my tone and said, "Hi!"  But... she didn't move back.

I said, still with a smile, "Crosswalk," and placed my free hand on her handlebars and pushed.  THEN she got the idea... Sort of.

She backed up.  However, she said, "Yeah, but I'm on a bike! (pause) Bitch." And her friendly tone was gone.

And I turned around, still walking with my kid, and yelled, "But a pedestrian has the right of way at a F@&!ING GREEN LIGHT!"

And we continued on our way.  But man! that pissed me off!  The sheer audacity of that woman just has me flabbergasted.  I hope my fellow pedestrians will also stand up for themselves (and I hope it goes without saying that it be in a non-violent fashion) while still being considerate of vehicles, both motored and non-motored.  And I hope that, after reading this, my fellow cyclists will be more considerate of pedestrians and cars.  I also hope that the drivers of motorized vehicles show that same consideration to everyone else on the road.

*steps off soapbox*

Before I completely step off...  I just realized that my last 2 blogs, both posted this week even, are about how inconsiderate this society has become.  What are you doing about that?  Are you making it worse and feeding the beast with your own inconsiderate treatment of others?  Or are you trying to lead by example and show your children, your friends and peers and the rest of the world that you can be kind and considerate without being weak?  Hmmmm...

A message to the "normals"

While walking to the store yesterday, some jackass walking in front of us lit off a bottle rocket.  When it whistled and banged, Kevin was absolutely terrified.  He jumped and screaming and began to cry uncontrollably while pressing his hands over his ears.  He nearly collapsed to the sidewalk, but I caught him.  I had to pick him up and carry him while he screamed in my ear.  I squeezed him and stroked his back in an attempt to calm him.  I told him over and over, "It's OK.  It's all done now."  It took what seemed like ages to get him to stop crying and screaming.  And even longer for him to relax enough to be Kevin again.

On the way back home, we walked the same street that this event had happened on.  We turned the corner and he tensed up like he was about to be struck.  He started making the noise of the firework vocally and flailing his head like it was being knocked about. 

This small, seemingly innocuous, however obnoxious and asshole-ish, action has traumatized my child, possibly for the rest of his life.   Now, I can't expect those of you that are not autistic to know that he or any other child could react that way any more that you should expect me to keep my child isolated from those who would behave in a manner than might bring out such a reaction.  My message, however, is this:  Think before you act and speak.  You never know what it can do to others.  You are never too young (or old) to start being considerate of the world around you.