Settling In comments: 289

Oh. Warm little baby hand on my chest as I write. Dreaming-baby breath on my chest. Birds and squirrels everywhere in the front yard. A riot of yellow leaves and fluttering birds. Joanna Newsom playing somewhere else in the house. Clover Meadow sleeping on the ottoman. The light rain falling. The past two days have been mostly just about us; our visitors have started to disperse and we are finding our daily rhythm alone together. Andy is home for six weeks. He has skipped more than a few vacations over many years to save up that much time off. It's so awesome, so very awesome to be able to have him here at home right now. (Actually, right now he's at the store. But, yeah.) I have the window behind me open. The air is cool and damp and gray, with birdsong and wet pavement sounds. My prayers go out to everyone on the East Coast who has been affected by superstorm Sandy.

Thank you so much for all of your incredibly kind comments these past two weeks. My heart is so full of your words and wishes. Thank you. Thank you also for commenting on Amelia's name, but I can't take credit for that! It was definitely a group effort. Her birthfather wanted her to have four names (first, two middle, last). Her birthmother picked Amelia; we picked Beatrix; and then her birthmother picked Jolene. I think they are all beautiful names and I love how her whole name came together with something from each of us.

We had our first walk up to the bakery the other day. The weather was gorgeous — cool and crisp and the leaves blazing bright. It was the first time I'd been out of the house just for whatever-time in weeks, really! I carried her in the Moby (which is where she spends most of her day) and it felt so good to stretch my legs. I think she loved it, too. Andy walked the dog with a bottle in his back pocket, just in case. We got chais and wandereded through our familiar streets together. People smiled at us, which felt strange and wonderful. We smiled back. Walked slow. Crunching leaves. No rush. No rush at all.

Magic Days comments: 475

The days are filled with so much now. They are both long and short and not like any others. Everything feels full and sweet. Amelia sleeps as I write. She is awake much more now, but at this moment: quiet, quiet. Outside the windows the season has definitely turned to fall. Our trees glow yellow and maroon and crimson red. Yesterday Andy spent the afternoon cleaning up the yard. The rains are starting today, and the sky has turned opal white. Frosted glass. The house is warm and dark. The fireplace is hard at work. The lamps are lit low, even at mid-day. From early morning until night, the bulbs glow like illuminated peaches. The baby's room is robin's egg blue with rosebud wallpaper, the slanted-ceilinged corners lit by tiny bulbs behind rose-pink shades. When I check in on her in her crib, it's like looking in on a pearl in her pearly shell.

We have the nicest, nicest family and friends I could ever hope for. People come throughout the day to catch a glimpse of my fair lady with her eyes open. They bring salads and casseroles and soups and enchiladas and emapanadas and apple cakes and gingerbread cakes and roasted chicken with potatoes. It's glorious. For lunch we quick-munch turkey sandwiches and chips; for dinner we are well taken care of by our industrious crew. I am so grateful for this kind of love.

Miss Clover Honeytoes Meadow Paulson has taken to big-sisterhood as if she were born to it. She seems to have been waiting for the chance to prove how good she can be at this. She's very, very quiet and gentle when she is anywhere near Amelia. It's kind of amazing how she just knows to be that way. I'm so proud of her. We are still quite cautious with her, and have given her plenty of space to get used to this new member of our pack (and, also, plenty of attention). But she knows what's up, I think. Clover is a gentle soul, and naturally cautious, and quietly protective. When we are in the living room and Amelia is in her cradle, Clover lies under it. I put her dog bed there after I saw her do it several times. Dog of love. Thank you to those of you asking about how she and the Bee are doing! I think the Bee is still, for the most part, completely oblivious. She comes and gets some food and some pats a few times a day, as she always has, and she's looked at the baby a few times, I think. But she's Bridget. And that's about what (and all) I expected from her!

Andy is over the moon. I'm floaty, and tired, and so happy, and wandering around in utter amazement. Still dazed. Frequently teary. So happy. Just can't believe it. I can't believe she's finally here. I really can't believe she's really here. Wow.

Sunshine Day comments: 883

Thank you, thank you. Thank you for being on this long journey with us, and for all of your kind words and sweet wishes and prayers and tears and enthusiasm and joy that this little girl has arrived in the world and in her families' — both her birth family's and her adoptive family's — arms. Andy and I are each reading every one of the comments. There is a lot of sniffling, and occasionally outright sobbing. The comments are so beautiful, each one a wish for Amelia. I always imagine all of them together sparkling like a net of stars across the sky for her, like so many stars I wished on over the years. Thank you. It has been a week filled with every emotion (I could list them, but I'm typing with one hand), and more love and happiness than I have ever known. Oh, dear, sweet, darling, darling girl. She blinks when she's awake, and looks placidly out at all of us. She purses her rosebud lips and sticks out her tongue. She claps her feet (too big already for all her socks and booties). Buongiorno, bella principessa. You had three rainbows over your house in your first week.

Then, Amelia. comments: 3391

My heart is so full it's hard to speak. We have adopted a baby girl. We were honored and privileged to be asked by her luminous birthmother and her gentle birthfather to attend her birth. That moment, and the four days we spent in a hospital room with them and their family and friends were the most incredible, and humbling, of my entire life. This baby was born into the most beautiful circle of people I can possibly imagine, and both Andy and I are in continuous awe of their tremendous strength, courage, and incredible love. Our gratitude is boundless. Her birthgrandfather took this picture of Mt. Hood at sunrise on the morning of her birth. It made me cry when I saw it on his camera, and it makes me cry now to look at it again. It is a symbol of an auspicious beginning.

Amelia Jolene Beatrix Paulson
October 14, 2012, at 5:42 p.m.
8 pounds, 3 ounces; 20 inches

Welcome, welcome, welcome dear, sweet, precious, exquisite, wonderful, wonder-full Amelia. I love you more than I can say.

Silver Snow comments: 234

PATTERN: Clara by Karin Vestergaard Mathiesen
SIZE: 12-18 months
YARN: Madeline Tosh Merino Light in Silverfox

Thank you very much for sharing our walk with me yesterday. It was really a very magical day. By nine a.m. all of the original morning snow was gone and the sun was shining as if there had never been a cloud (or a snowflake) in the sky. But then, later in the afternoon, the whole thing started up again: Tiny flurries buzzed the yard, and then larger flakes started to fall and stick, and then a full-blown snow squall enveloped our neighborhood. Clover and I sat on the sofa and watched from the window; it was like being in a snowglobe.

Taken from our living-room window, around 3 p.m.

Oh, how my heart twirled! It lasted maybe another hour. All the little girls across the street came out and threw snowballs at each other and chased each other through the yards. They reminded me of squirrels, playing up and down the oak trunks, wild in their delight. It was the lovliest of days. I really don't think I'll ever forget it.

I finished this dress last month and for some reason just never got around to posting about it. Apparently I was waiting for a fairy-tale snow to come and enchant me with its charms; the entire time I was working on the dress it seemed like a fairy-tale dress. When I finished it I was simply flabbergasted that I was able to make something like this. It felt conjured more than knitted, though I knew that there were parts of it that had been so hard, where I'd had to rip out and redo more than once, where every stitch was hard-won and utterly prosaic. But I couldn't remember where those parts were (and I definitely can't remember now). (Lord, please let that be a metaphor.) I just sat and looked at it for a whole night. I kept shaking my head. Really? How did I do that? Since I don't even really know how to knit?

That's sort of what I've been telling myself all these years, anyway. Knitting was so hard for me, and came so un-easily to me, that even though I've been able to knit and purl more or less without complication since about 1999 (I started trying to learn back in 1994 or so), I still never really think of myself as someone who can knit. I know that's strange, and not meant to sound falsely modest, but it's true. That is my perception. A year ago I wrote the story of how I eventually learned to knit. I think it is one of a small handful of things I've written in my life that help me tell the story of myself to myself. Eventually I will amend it to include what knitting has meant to me this past year. This dress will figure into that part of the story, how the whistling work of these days and their many stitches gave us hope and happiness. And confidence, when it was sorely needed. When I finished the dress, I hung it on the wall next to the sparkly lights on my side of our bed and we looked at it for a long time. For someone who doesn't know how to knit, I will admit that I felt very proud.

*For those who have asked, you can buy a kit for the dress from the US yarn distributor here. I bought the kit but didn't use the recommended yarn. Unfortunately I don't know if the pattern is available on its own; I have called Isager to see if it is and have not heard back. I am sorry but that's the best I can do, as this is just something I knit for myself and is not my original pattern to distribute or otherwise make available. You will have to contact Isager with any questions about the Clara dress pattern. Thank you for understanding.

**Update, 1/4/2014: The pattern is now available here: http://www.yarncupboard.com/shop/clara-dress-pattern

More Blue Gingham Buttons comments: 85

PATTERN: Baby's Raglan Sweater No Seams by Carol Barenys
SIZE: 6-9 months
YARN: Garnstudio DROPS Merino Extra Fine

Thank you for all the nice comments on the navy! So nice! Here is my finished snuggly spring sweater sort of like Baby Alma's that I started a few weeks ago. This is made out of the same yarn as the navy. I really enjoyed making this one. It's so rare that I ever make something that is plain white! But there was something so soothing about using this color, honestly. It was like knitting up a bowl of vanilla ice cream or something.

I made a few changes to the pattern, including doing the neck, bottom edge, and sleeve edges in moss stitch instead of garter. I also increased a bit through the body at each side to make it slightly A-lined. I made it longer, so it would be like a little coat. And I made two little pockets that I patched on. All of this was fairly easy and didn't make me too nervous. I really don't like going off-trail like that, but, you know, it's life on the edge here at Paulson Place!

A few weeks ago Andy and I had a conversation that went something like this:

Me [looking at a picture that I posted of something complicated that I made — I don't remember what it was — that should've taken me a month and instead took me a week]: "Oh great, now everyone will know that I have no life."
Him: "Oh, they already know that."
Me: "They do?"
Him: "Honey! Yes!"
Me [sheepish]: " . . . "
Him [sheepish]: "I mean . . . yeah. They know that."
Me [smiling/knitting]: "Oh. Oh well!!!"

I love weensy pockets! I stitched them on by hand with regular sewing thread. Not sure if that was the right thing to do, but I couldn't see any other way to do it? These blue plastic gingham buttons came from a lady who had a button booth at Sew Expo this winter. I thought I kept the business cards for everyone I bought stuff from but now I can't find the cards. Drat! Sorry! If anyone might know what the name of that booth was (it was on a corner, and for some reason I think the lady might have been from Seattle?), let me know and I'll add it here. I'd like to get more of them myself!

Baby's First Book comments: 160

While I was working on the book list last week (I haven't forgotten about it, it's just taking a long time to put it together), I remembered that there was one book I'd been wanting to make that wasn't exactly on the list!

This is the Baby's First Book project from the totally beautiful book Sew Liberated: 20 Stylish Projects for the Modern Sewist by the super-talented and sweet Meg McElwee. Meg is an amazing designer. Everything she makes is modern and warm and fun and so pretty. I'd actually bought this book a couple of months ago with the intention of making the Blossom Blouse first, or maybe the Petite Artiste Smock (adorable), but since I was watching sixteen episodes of Chuck in a row and didn't want to leave the sofa, and haven't yet figured out how to sew with a sewing machine in my lap (working on that), the hand sewing won out. Applique is not something I do very often (though a million years ago, these felt photo albums were part of my little product line), but everytime I sit down to do it these days I love it. Such it was with this project, which I realized was actually designed and contributed by the equally amazing Melissa Crowe of Checkout Girl. Her work in felt applique is simply beautiful. It's amazing how evocative those little pieces of felt can be, isn't it? Beautiful. I thought this soft book was just the sweetest thing ever. Here's my version:

I thought about doing it in brown, like our real house, but I thought a little pink Parisian-looking house would be cuter.

I did make the puppers look like someone we know, though. Mwah, Puppers!

And the kitterses. The Bee is sitting straight up, and the Vee is lying down, just like in real life.

There's the tree.

Birds! These look like my mom's canaries.

Such a cute boat.

Happy little fishy.

Happy baby!

I am so happy with this little book! When I was done I threw my arms up and smiled just like the happy baby. I can't tell you how much I loved working on this. So much. For such a small book, I would say this is not a small project — but that just means you can really get into it. There is a lot of prep work involved in a project like this — gathering up a lot of fabric, copying and cutting out the patterns from so many different pieces of felt (by the way, the felts I have been using for many years are wool/rayon blends thatI buy wholesale from a company called National Nonwovens. They sell some of their felt at a few of our local retail fabric stores here in Portland, and I believe that Prairie Point Junction's Wool Felt Central carries the whole line of their colors, as well). But if you can just take your time and enjoy that part of it, it is SO very worth it. Because I truly loved the stitching part, and watching each picture slowly come together was pretty magical. The directions were wonderful. I used different colors than Melissa, and wound up turning under the edges of each picture and appliquing (sp?) it to the page by hand with invisible hem stitch instead of machine zig-zag as she did in the book (again, didn't want to have to sit the machine), so that's a bit different, but otherwise my version is almost exactly like the one in the book. (I will make an embroidered bookplate when the baby arrives, too. :-) Thanks for such a wonderful project, Meg and Melissa. I felt really proud of myself when I was finished. I think the baby will really like this!