Thursday, September 9, 2010
Did I tell you I gave up? Like really gave up? I threw the doors of the wool shop open, my hands in the air and proclaimed WHATEVER YOU CHOOSE! None of that selection from a few (of Mum’s favoured) options malarkey.
Then the entire, expansive button collection was spilt before the kid: GO FOR IT! Not that the twirly girly was ever likely to stray long or far from matching pink or puce.
So, winter is over and my previously, frequently-nudey, three year old, is warmly, woolly, clad in a cardigan based on the Olearia pattern – just in time for spring and already warmer weather. I say ‘based’ because I frequently forgot the pattern and did not correct my mistakes. The knitting was very much What the Heck and One Last Shot (would it ever even be worn?), which translates to ignoring repeats and sailing past gathered bits and adding increases whenever the fancy took me.
Wouldn’t you know it, she’s been gadding about in fully clothed warmth since the last button was attached.
And with all that, I have finally rediscovered my groove. No doubt buried under the shell shock of previous experience with three year olds, I’m still not entirely sure how I managed to forget it, lose it. While I’ve been entirely relaxed over ghastly clothing combinations for quite some time (any clothing is a small victory for good and not evil), I wouldn’t voluntarily spend treasured, therapeutic knitty time, with squeaky wool or colours of girl toddler choice. Yet who could possibly choose better colour and style for a kid, than the kid herself? The kid who pretty much sailed through so-called Terrible Twos and launched three with DEFIANCE, OPINION, built-in anti-freeze, SPIRIT and CHUTZPAH?
I’ll choose my battles, thanks.
You know where to take that cuppa for cruise-around-the-interwebby inspire time...