So last week I was going like gangbusters on my Noni hobo bag, until I realized I misread the pattern and was only decreasing by two stitches every three rounds instead of four. I did this for probably 60 rounds of the bag body. Talk about frustrating. I am eternally indebted to my mother, who actually went ahead and tore out the rounds for me and re-balled my yarn. I'm sure she did this because she loves me, but also because she knew how much money I spent on the kit and couldn't bear the thought of me not finishing it.
In addition to my knitting woes, the entire household came down with the stomach flu last week -- the two-year-old on Tuesday, the rest of us on Thursday. It was that awful stuff where you projectile vomit till you think you going to see your shoes coming out; at least it only lasted about 24 hours for all of us -- except me, of course, probably because of being pregnant and generally down in immunities.
My mood, knock on wood, is slowly improving. I think the medication changes made while I was at the hospital were a step in the right direction. I even managed to take the kids to story time today at the library, and that's the first time I've taken the kids out by myself in quite a while. I'm still not good, but I'm much better than I was, and any improvement is welcome.