I will have plenty to keep me busy when the kid does go into labor. I've started a new sweater design, using the basic shape of one Grant got in Austria and adding some special Mad Angel Creations features (braided cables) for a sort of medieval look. This first one is for me, so I can get it right before going on to do one for him, in his choice of color.
Here are the beginnings of it, draped over my amplifier.
Baby is due today, but so far no signs of labor, so hubby and I will grab breakfast nearby in a bit, and maybe hit the bookstore.
Sore from yoga this morning, but feeling calm and relatively content. If you ever have a chance to go to a gong meditation, I recommend it highly. There is something about that wash of sound, especially after an hour of yoga to uncloud your mind. I was able to do a full Reiki treatment on myself while the gong player worked his magic with a wide array of gongs, all with different sounds, sound colors, and pitches. One cannot help but feel a Divine Presence. It is there, whatever Name one chooses to give it.
As usual, social time afterwards was an agony for me, so I simply remained silent, watched from a distance, drank my tea, and left. I managed one conversation in the hallway with one of the class leaders, but no amount of gong music or meditation can blow away the Asperger's quirks. They come back in full force when there is a crowd, all talk, and no more music. I feel a desperate need to stay in my bubble, and will only come out of it in a one-on-one scenario, or in a group of ten people or less.
There is a balance game I sometimes play on my Wii Fit, in which the obese little cartoon icon that represents me is supposed to walk in a bubble down a winding river, avoiding all obstacles. My balance is not good -- flat feet and pronated ankles -- so my little icon inevitably smashes into obstacles after only a few seconds. The bubble bursts, and my icon goes splashing into the river. It's an excellent metaphor for how I deal with social situations. I don't like to do anything that might make me go splashing into the river suddenly, so I am very careful to guard my bubble.
Sometimes guarding my bubble and staying safely within it means I run away as quickly as I can, striving for the balance that will keep me away from obstacles. Sometimes an obstacle surprises me, and I'm in the river before I can draw a breath. Other times, I make my escape successfully, bubble still intact, but what, exactly, do I win when I succeed?