Things are looking up.

I did have to - sort of - pull a Bitch From Hell routine this morning, but I did finally get my perscription refills out of the doctor's office. The guy at the desk who helped me (receptionist type, though they aren't called that on Air Force bases), was quite polite and totally uninvolved in the four unanswered phone calls, so I was polite right back to him (if I'm gonna bite someone's face off, it will be the person responsible, damn it). But I was also open about the fact I was enraged. At one point I said calmly "I don't want to be a bitch to you about this, but I've been calling here for a week without so much as a returned phone call. I'm not leaving today until I get these perscriptions. If this doesn't work, it's the CO's office next." (CO meaning commanding officer. CO's hate when their staff is so incompetent that the civilians get pissed off and come to complain.) And he blinked a couple times and said "Right." I have a feeling he went back and hounded the nurses, because things happened pretty quickly.

Military bases are funny places. In many ways it's a giant rule-fest, of course; all that rank, uniforms, sir and ma'am stuff. But in other ways, it's kind of like a giant extended family. Because many of the men are away from their families so much, they tend to spend what time they DO have very involved with their children. Which means on a military base you've got great odds of running into men who have a clue about children's needs and behavior. (The husbeast has come home with all kinds of hilarious parenting tips like what diaper rash ointment is best. I would give a ball of silk yarn to be able to watch these guys sharing baby-butt help over the coffee in the morning.) While I was waiting in line this morning, one window was open and one was closed. A guy in uniform passing by looked at me, smiled, then went over to the empty window and yelled in 'HEY! THERE'S A LADY WITH A KID OUT HERE WHO NEEDS SOME HELP!' then he wished me a nice day and disappeared. Someone materialized in the empty window almost instantly.

Always a surreal experience. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, but always surreal.

So after a little more crap, I have my perscriptions. I think from now on I'm going to skip the freaking phone calls altogether and just go over. If they don't like it, I'll remind them of this clusterfuck.



Anyway. Real news. I've been working on the Mystery Knit, kind of. My concentration hasn't been the greatest due to the pain control thing. But when I could sit still, I knit on it. Unfortunately, the evil stinkbeast (formerly known as Sekhmet) has discovered that alpaca is soft and warm:

"MMmmmmm. Alpaca."

I'm trying for some project monogamy to get this thing done; if I want to submit it to Knitty, it's got to be done, pattern written, and photos done by June 15. That's not too far away.

And speaking of patterns, for something designed to be loose and casual, what kind of sizing do you think is appropriate? I was thinking of going every ten inches of chest measurement - 34"/86cm, 44"/112cm, 54"/138cm, 64"/162cm - Or do you want the usual every four inches/ten cm sizing method that's commonly used for more fitted knitwear? Let me know, pleeeeaaaase?

The Baby's zone-out was probably due to a growth spurt; there seemed to be some concern in the comments. The husbeast and I both had major growth spurts, instead of steady growth (the nine months I was in eighth grade - age 12ish - I grew seven inches and my legs never quit hurting the whole time). The Baby seems to be doing the same thing; for a few days she'll be lethargic and cranky, then suddenly overnight she's a size larger and she eats everything that's not red hot or nailed down. And she'll often do two or three of them in a row. She outgrew all her 2T (two-year-old) clothes last week, so she might have another spurt or two in her. Sometimes when she's really whiney, I give her Tylenol; I remember how my legs hurt during growth spurts and I wonder if she's got the same thing. I hope to hell she learns to talk soon so she can TELL me her legs hurt. Or whatever.

So, anyway, I went out to Target yesterday and bought her a bunch of new clothes that fit, including some loose dresses. Loose dresses are my favorite way to dress in hot weather.

She was shrieking and laughing when I took the photo, which is why she looks so goofy. I kept running away from her so I'd be far enough away to get a photo, and she'd run after me, thinking it was a game. We chased each other around the living room for quite a while. Baby giggles are a good thing.

One last thing -- product endorsement. I've been letting The Baby color with Crayola Markers, and even though they're billed as 'washable', I didn't automatically believe it. But this stuff is awesome for cleanup on skin. The Baby colors herself all up with these things, and I just get some baby wipes (the pre-moistened things they sell for diaper changes which we use to clean up everything). The marker comes right off with the baby wipes, no real scrubbing or anything. Rub a couple times and it's gone. Love 'em.