Knitterrific.

This is my nickname for a buddy of mine, but it's also my solution to baby blues (or, rather, non-baby blues, I guess, since they're baby-related but not baby-caused). I've been feeling sorry for myself quite a bit lately. I have half a dozen friends/family members who have had or will have babies around my October due date. While I am delighted for them, it hurts in a way that I cannot explain. Others who've had losses understand and for those who don't, I hope you never do.
So with the wallowing in self-pity came the inevitable chocolate binges and facial breakouts and I had to make it stop. I decided to make a knitting project for my sister (she had better not be reading this, because, well, if she did, she's going to have an idea of what it is before she opens it on Tuesday and that would be sad.) I'm psyched about her boys - she's expecting twins and will probably have them in the coming week or so (my hats had BETTER get there before the boys). I wanted to make something beautiful and durable so I found soft and beautiful poly blend from Dark Horse Yarns (http://www.darkhorseyarn.com/catalog.aspx?category=Fantasy&type=basic). Using baby blue and dark brown, I made these hats: http://survivingsantafe.blogspot.com/2009/01/twin-hat-pattern.html and some simple baby mittens. They turned out so beautiful and kept me busy with happy thoughts of love and support for my sister and her boys.
Then, right after I finished them, the anniversary of the week of David's death hit me like a brick wall. In the first year, I mourned him daily. This year, it was as if everything had been stored up until the anniversary week. I barely dragged myself out of bed last Monday I was so sad. Then I logged onto Facebook to discover that my cousin had delivered a beautiful tiny baby girl. I had a choice: I could mope or I could knit.
I chose to knit. And I made this:

It's impossible to wallow in self-pity when you're knitting up the most gorgeous little 20s style baby bonnet with hand-knit pansies for decoration. You can't *help* but smile.

And in the meantime, I tell myself it's all practice. It's all practice. Practice for the beautiful things I'll make for my babies who are here (and growing like weeds, so I'd better get to it) and for the one I want so badly. It's an excellent way to spend time. Beats eating, that's for sure.