Novembers Rock

Each year around Thanksgiving, I give thanks for making it alive through another 365 days. I've always been a big birthday person who wants the song and the fuss, but this year, I almost forgot it was my birthday. Perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones, the preoccupation with hosting Thanksgiving, or the dread of braving LAX to pick up family. Or perhaps celebrating a birthday just seemed inconsequential when soon I'd be celebrating an actual birth. In any case, the fact that I was now 32 slipped my mind until a balloon-bearing pug appeared at the shower door while I was washing my hair. I lavished kisses and gratitude on both he and the hubby, who insisted that he had nothing to do with the balloon.

In the afternoon, hubby surprised me with a gift of his own: Singstar 80s for Playstation 2. This was a big surprise for two reasons. Reason 1: To save money, we'd agreed to eschew exchanging any gifts until the baby's birth. Reason 2: Vince hates singing. HATES it. His giving me a gift that required amplified, obnoxious singing was akin to my agreeing to let him keep his turntables in the nursery. Oh, wait, I did agree to that. I guess now we're even.

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To cap off the day, we went to my favorite local restaurant, where we stuffed ourselves silly, because, of course, we wouldn't be doing enough of that the next night.

We awoke at dawn the next morning to prepare Thanksgiving dinner. Rather, Leon and Claire did most of the preparing, I scurried around obsessing over Thanksgiving minutiae, Oliver anxiously hovered about the kitchen, and Vince showed off his Guitar Hero skills to my mom. Later on, Vince did put down the guitar long enough to perform his man-of-the-house duties by carving the turkey.
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Dinner went off without a hitch, and at the end of the night we were bone tired. Vince teasingly observed that, though exhausted, I seemed to love playing hostess. I realized it was true. The mad rush of preparation was worth the incredible feeling of having a house full of friends and family. And that led me to wonder, "Hmmm... I wonder how many more babies I can convince him to have?"
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Baby's First Hat

I finished knitting Baby's first article of clothing - a red cap of washable merino wool with two little devil horns on top. My mom friends tell me that no matter how adorable he is, there will be some very trying times during those first few months in which I'll feel like he was sent to torture me. During those times, I'll just tie this hat on him so at least I'll have something cute to look at while I'm beside myself with fatigue and frustration.

Last Friday, I mailed a box of less devilish hats to the Head Huggers Project. Jenny, Cynthia, Jocelyn, Lisa, and I contributed to the cause, so kudos to us!

The Backseat Pug

People seem to think that once the baby comes, our obsession with Oliver will wane. I personally don't see that happening. After all, this blog is called entitled "Ssk, Pugs, & Rock 'n' Roll," not "Ssk, Babies, & Rock 'n' Roll." Still, Vince has teasingly been calling him "The Backseat Pug." I think he does it just to mess with his little head, and it's kind of mean, especially since it seems that all this baby madness is, indeed, starting to get to him. This past weekend we started prepping the baby's room, and Oliver's reaction was one of downright despondency. He spent a few hours trying to get into the spirit of cribs, bassinets, and baby curtains, and then he vanished.

We found him sulking all by himself on the landing of the staircase. It was heartbreaking. He seemed to feel better after I assured him that babies, not pugs, are actually required by law to be situated in the backseat of the car, and he would retain his rightful place in the front passenger seat.

To ensure that my hubby didn't feel like a Backseat Pug, I made a few of his favorite things - zucchini bread to eat for breakfast and my signature pasta dish for dinner. I've heard the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, so I expected that by making not one, but two of his favorite things, I'd be set. What I did not expect was that he would eat them together. On the same plate. Hmmm. Maybe next week I'll make turkey rice porridge and blueberry muffins together and see what happens.

In knitting news, our Friday Knitting Group is gearing up to send a box of hats to the Head Huggers Project. The hats - dubbed "chemo caps" - will be distributed to hospitals, cancer centers, and hospices to be worn by people recovering from chemotherapy or other treatments. It's nice to know that a pasttime as enjoyable as knitting can be used for such a good cause. If only other hobbies - such as compulsive shopping and idle gossip - could be as beneficial!

Lisa and Jenny are way too excited about knitting these caps! I mean, have you ever seen such glee in a knitter?

Isn't She Lovely?

After weeks of breathless anticipation, I finally got to meet Sienna Marie, the beautiful new daughter of fellow knitter Bernadette and her husband Steve. As I held her against my chest, she made these adorable little snuffling noises, and I thought to myself, "She sounds just like a pug!" Of course, I didn't vocalize this, because I would sound rude and crazy. The next day when I was telling Nancy about Sienna's visit, I happened to mention the noises she made, and Nancy immediately asked, "Did you think she sounds like a pug??" Ah! My obsession isn't as cleverly hidden as I'd thought!

I'm not, however, the only pug-besotted one, as the below montage will reveal. Let's call it "Creature of Habit, Part Deux."