Too cool for school

Surfacing

I logged in today thinking that it had been at least two weeks since I last posted, only to see that I dropped by last Monday to memorialize Young'un's Extreme Corn Shucking (no chainsaw necessary after all -- I snapped the stem off the corn for him with no problems. "Wow!" he said, impressed. "Those big arms of yours have a lot of strength!").

Although the calendar claims it has only been three weeks, it feels as though the kids have been hanging around forever, all in my space and clamoring for my time. There was an uptick in activity last Thursday, when my friend Tanya's older children arrived for a pre-camp visit, and the weekend was purely nuts, with all the list-making and shopping and airing out sleeping bags and fighting over whether or not Eldest should take his iPod to camp and driving kids about and refereeing computer time.

It was helpful to have Tanya's kids here, actually, because not only are they neat and polite, they could and did earn their keep entertaining MY children, but -- and it's a big but -- two more kids means that there were SIX of them here, to only one of me. Had they decided to stage an insurrection, the odds would have been decidedly in their favor.

Happily, they are all good kids, who get along well together. Even happier, B took the older four to camp yesterday, and Young'un started day camp this morning. For the next 12 days we are back to our school year schedule, with only two children in the house, both of whom will be in bed by 8:30P.

It's like a mini vacation, only without the manicures and fruity drinks.

Between limited free time during the day and the shroud of exhaustion that settles on my shoulders within 30 minutes of the last child's departure for bed, I have not done a lot of knitting since school got out. I have been plugging away on the pink and orange Trekking socks (which, by the way, seem to be doing an admirable job with the weather ... the only rain we've had since I started them fell after sundown) and on the tunic I started last month for WB:



I actually cast off the neckline on this thing two days ago, only to discover that it didn't fit over WB's ginormous noggin. I'm afraid this is becoming a pattern.

The bulk of my scare knitting time has been dedicated to tiny baby hats, in honor of Savannah Faith Hampson, the granddaughter of the wonderful woman who owns my LYS, who was born prematurely on June 20, 2009 and died on the 21st (Father's Day).



They are my contribution for The Woolpack's summer knitalong, which is focusing on preemie items to be distributed to area NICUs in Savannah's memory. If you have some spare (soft, machine-washable) yarn hanging about and would care to join us, please do ... you can either mail your finished knits to the shop (address in the link above) or to me, and I'll make sure they get where they need to go.

Savannah’s Baby Cap
pattern courtesy of Janet Hampson

1 skein sport or DK weight yarn (depending on how tightly you knit, one skein of Berroco Comfort DK will make three hats)
size 4 needles - may be worked straight or in the round
note: finished size is not important, as not all babies in the NICU are teeny-tiny.

Cast on 72 stitches
Work in knit 2 purl 2 rib for 1”
Work in stockinette stitch for 3”

Shape cap as follows:
Next round knit 6, knit 2 together, repeat 8 more time
Work one round even

Repeat these two rows six more time, each time knitting 1 less stitch before the knit 2 together

When 9 stitches remain, (knit 1, knit 2 together) three times. Cut yarn and thread through the three remaining stitches. Seam side if knit in the flat, weave in ends, lock in the love.

****

Coming Soon: another episode of Old House Follies. This time it's not just us v. the house ... it's us v. the house v. our older daughter's expecatations. Whee!!

Requiring investigation

Young'un, calling from the porch, where he's been sent to shuck corn:

"Mom? I need something like a chain saw."

Party on

My parenting can sometimes feel schizophrenic, what with tending to the needs of a toddler and a seven year old on the one hand and teenagers on the other. That dichotomy was epitomized by the events of this past weekend: a belated birthday party for Young'un on Saturday (seven year old boys plus bowling plus balloons plus ice cream cake plus an arcade equals a very good time, indeed) and an end-of-the-school-year celebration Sunday, hosted by Eldest and his best friend (at his friend's house, you have to love a neighbor who willingingly opens her house to 20 9th graders). Young'un and his friends were thrilled when I picked up a bowling ball and joined in the fun; Eldest was mortified -- MORTIFIED -- when I checked in on the party and said hello to his former girlfriend. (I pointed out that snubbing her would have been a much greater gaffe. He was grudgingly convinced.)

At any rate, the weekend's festivities started our summer off on a high note. Which we needed, because it's been raining here for over two weeks, and the perpetually damp sidewalks and cloud-covered sky are beginning to wear on me.

In the interest of brightening things up I finished the socks I had on the needles as quickly as possible. The yarn didn't bother me at all when I chose it -- quite the contrary, I've always been fond of Opal's Lollipop colorways -- but by the time I rounded the heel on the second sock they looked too much like the gloomy view out my window.



If, indeed, my sock projects are a wooly divining rod, reflecting the weather during the time they are being knit, I'm hoping that this next pair will the harbinger of warm, sunny days to come.



Sadly, it hasn't worked yet. But I still have hope.

Hero no more

This sorry tale began, according to Ravelry, in November of '07, when I was looking for something to knit for my nephew. The boy lives near Atlanta, so I figured this would be the perfect time to use the Rowan Denim that had been marinating in my stash; I liked the idea of knitting him a big denim sweatshirt.

Then I saw this picture, and was smitten.


picture from Pipsqueaks

How great is that? Note the slouchy drop shoulder, the comfortable oversizedness with lots of room to grow -- he'd get plenty of use out of this one. And the star!! SO cute. This would be perfect, I thought.

Unfortunately, as I documented here, the project has been cursed from the start. When I wrote that post I thought I'd gotten a handle on the situation, but the problems persisted. First the yarn didn't shrink after washing like I expected it to. The sweater was way too long, and the armholes were too deep for the sleeves to fit in. Figuring that the problem was that my front loader didn't agitate the fabric enough, I washed it again (in scalding water), then ran it through the dryer with the heat on its highest setting.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

After three wash and dry cycles, the sweater's measurements were practically perfect. It was still a bit long (the sweater was off by 1/4", the sleeves by a full inch), but the armholes had shrunk enough that -- with a bit of stretching -- I should have been able to get the sleeves in place. And the intarsia looked great. So desperate was I to finish this thing that I chose to ignore the fact that the star (which I was careful to start right where the pattern told me to) was, to my eye, about an inch or so too close to the neckband.


terrible lighting, I know, but it's been raining for a week here, and frankly --
this sweater doesn't deserve to be well lit.

I seamed the front and sides, failed to notice that there was no way the shoulders would slouch comfortably as they do in the picture, and, finish line in sight, prepared to set in the sleeves. I laid everything out prior to seaming, and that's when it dawned on me. This sweater isn't cursed.

It's demonic.



Still, STILL, I figured I could save it. I considered my options and decided that ripping out the bound-off edge of the sleeves, increasing a few more times, and knitting until they were long enough would work. That the sweater is way too big for a preschooler was actually a good thing; my nephew didn't stop growing while I wrestled with this stupid project. I could give it to him for his sixth birthday in the fall! I thought.

I thought it would be a good idea to get an idea HOW too big the sweater was, so I roped WB into modeling duty. She got it over her head easily enough ....



but, oops! That's the armhole, honey. You're supposed to put your head through here. Let me help you.


the last straw

NOW I'm done. And while I know it may look as though the sweater has won, and that my knitting is, indeed, the boss of me, I want you to know ...

I didn't quit. This Hero is fired.

The art of compromise

To take a short walk to the center store
You must first get your toddler out of the door



"Sandals!" you say
But sneaks can't be beat



So take both and get smiles
from the people you meet.


WB has a few choice words for the paparazzi

Itsy bitsy signer

Here is what we have found to be most useful as we teach sign language to WB:

1. Hiring an expert. I remembered that Young'un had learned some sign in preschool, so I called the director to ask if she had any resources I could use for WB. It turns out that Young’un’s class had been taught by another preschool parent who happens to teach baby signing classes. She had no classes ongoing, but offered to come to our house once a week to teach WB and me one on one. This has been tremendously helpful. Among the materials she’s given me is a book of cue cards containing most of the words one would need to communicate with a toddler, which I refer to all the time. She has also able to fine tune the signs I thought I’d figured out for myself, as there are nuances that I wasn't aware of. For example, the subtle difference between "hungry" and "horny" ... not a mistake you want your toddler to make.

2. Reading lots of books. WB loves to be read to, and many of her board books use the same simple vocabulary that she and I are learning in signing class. We still snuggle close at bedtime, but recently our reading sessions during the day have begun to look more like story time at the library. She sits on the floor facing me and I balance the book in my lap so that I have both hands free to sign.

3. A reward system. Trader Joe's has been a great place to teach WB new signs, because it's full of things she wants, like snacks and balloons. I quickly learned, however, that it is a good thing I am not afraid to make a fool of myself in public, and not only because I've been told that when teaching sign language to a baby it helps to animate your face and voice, and exaggerate your signs. This is what happened when I tried to teach WB the sign for “please”:

WB, seeing balloons by the registers, points: Eeeugh!!

Me, demonstrating: Say please!

WB lunges forward in the grocery cart, grabs my breasts, and rubs in large, enthusiastic circles. She then looks up at me, grins, and claps. Again I ask her to say “please”, again she rubs my chest and applauds. It is clear that she thinks she is Very Clever.

Me, to the stunned man forced to witness this when all he wanted to do was get past me to the hummus: I think she's almost got it!

A month or so after putting all of the above together, we have this:

Our itsy bitsy signer from Ruth B on Vimeo.

That's our girl!!