Hey, Anna-Liza here. Feeling awfully fidgety.
Wee Sprite is doing a fine job of building anticipation for her debut. I suspect she may be as much of a drama queen as her mom once was, but we’ll have to wait and see. We’ll have to wait and see about everything, because she’s still not here.
Poor Knitting Sprite! She’s trying to be patient, but as any woman who has had a pregnancy go over the magic 40 weeks knows, patience at this point is more difficult to acheive than uniform sportweight for a first time spinner.
I’m feeling reasonably calm, but I’ve got more to distract me (i.e. job, small boys, etc). However, poor Lyda hasn’t spoken to me for quite a while now because I don’t want to tie up my phone, just in case! Darlin’ K advised me to pack my own “hospital bag” in case I’m there for a long time, so I threw an extra contact lens case, a couple of meal replacement bars, and extra knitting in the knitting bag (which is currently a reusable grocery bag). And I have another knitting deadline, which I can’t tell you about yet, but it involves Malabrigo.
I did get to work out the fidgets some on Saturday. Saturday was Darlin’ K’s birthday, and we had a hot date. The kidlets stayed overnight with friends, and we went out dancing. First we checked out one party, decided it wasn’t quite what K was in the mood for, then headed to Milk in what is now being called SoCo, for “south of Colfax”. I guess “Capitol Hill” is just not trendy enough. I won’t rant about the proliferation of stupid nicknames similar to LoDo just now – too tired. Besides, it’s not worth a full rant.
Milk is connected to two other clubs, Bar Standard and The Shelter … or something like that. The exact boundaries were rather fluid, so the only time I was really sure which club I was in was upstairs at Bar Standard. Anyway, access to one gives you access to three dance floors. Bar Standard was rockin’ 80s pop, Milk was sort of more alt-80’s, and The Shelter was industrial/goth, but with a pretty heavy 80’s slant as well. I’m not sure if that happens all the time, or if it was special for K’s birthday.
We amused ourselves wondering how many of the people in the bar had even been born when we first started dancing to that kind of music. Not just that “kind” – sometimes “that exact song”! Darlin’ K wondered if people were dancing to “Dancing with Myself” because they actually liked it or for the kitsch factor. Bet you can guess which one for me!
We had a blast. And quite decent martinis, too.
After Milk, we went to another party at this cool art space and stayed and goofed around and danced some more until 4ish, drove home, had a snack, fell into bed around 5:30. The next morning I asked on Facebook, “Is a grandma-to-be really supposed to act this way?”
So Wee Sprite, you’re going to have to show up and take the “to-be” part off that description! And then I can behave in ways inappropriate to a grandmother and embarrass you when you’re a tween.