Babies Need No Translation

Once upon a time there was a girl named Heather who was always cold. She was so cold even in the Spring and Summer. One day, Heather realized she could create cute little shrugs out of yarn that would keep her snug and warm, yet not look like an idiot while others were sweaty and hot. So she bought a ton of pointy little sticks and began to make yummy little sweaters. Heather was finally happy. The End.

Its funny how easily babies are entertained. We have a small library of childrens' classics, but sometimes I read the Sephora catalog to LBB over breakfast. He chuckles and smiles to this season's latest trends in eyeshadow every bit as much as the adventures of Wilbur from Charlotte's Web. I was reading Jenny McCarthy's book "Baby Laughs" yesterday, and had a laugh when she wrote about singing her son Evan to sleep. Despite all her preparations for the arrival of her new son, her memory failed her when it came to lullabyes, and the best she could come up with was a soft version of Brittney Spears 'oops I did it Again.'

But it did the trick.

Like Jenny, my repertoire of lullabyes and playsongs includes some gems. For the life of me I couldn't remember the words to that damn mockingbird song, or all that 'go to sleep' crap. Instead, we sing "I Like to Move It" by the Baha Men and "I Get Knocked Down" by Chumbawumba. Hummed softly they sound like lullabyes. Or a little louder with my goofy smile for playtime. LBB really digs it. If I throw some dancing and hair-tossing in, you would think I had spun a disco ball with lights over his head.

New Hampshire Sheep & Wool

Now, before I begin, let me apologize for the ditzy dizzy greeting-and-scurry I gave my fellow bloggers on saturday. It may have been the fleecy-fumes, the fun, the enormous ice cream cone being shoved at me by my husband, or just perhaps my abounding delight at the wonderful weather. But I sincerely regret being such a wingnut (as usual), and hope you weren't too offended!

After a lazy beginning back home, we (me, hubby, and baby) finally rolled into Contoocook around 12:30-giving me only 4 1/2 hours in fiber paradise. To make matters worse, I noticed the battery on our camera was DEAD, so we had to charge it in the car for about half that time....oh mercy.

It was gorgeous!! In fact, the whole weekend was fantastic, but the highlight of my first Mother's Day/Weekend (ok, so let me stretch it out for a few days, ok?) was the sheep & wool show. We introduced little Phil (who I will call LBB for little boy blue) to the sweet song of the alpacas, and tried to push Blogless Sharon and the Doc to buy a few, with sweet promises that LBB would gladly participate in any local 4H alpaca clubs in our area.

We stopped for a snack once or twice...

I contained myself, and picked up just two skeins of yarn at the Foxfire booth in 'tsunami' to make another baby sweater. And spent at least 40 AGONIZING minutes deliberating over my first drop-spindle. And then settled on the least-expensive model they had to offer at the Golding booth.

And there was much rejoicing.

There was also a bit of rejoicing over at the Merlin Tree (?) booth, as it was pickup time for Blogless Sharon and her antique spinning wheel. I especially loved the note left for her on the wheel by admirers...

Mommy Hate

Don't hate the mommy!

Thanks for your supportive emails and comments-it has been a tough week, mostly because little Phil has really hit a stage of cuteness. I am barely able to take my eyes off his little face. In fact, when he wakes at 4am for a feeding, my husband and I race each other to see who can get to him first!

These really are the best days ever.
(And nights too)

Work is a different matter-as some of you have pointed out, my coworkers aren't thrilled with the fact that I work only part time, have four-day weekends, and stroll into work just about anytime before 9AM. They don't realize that I am often out of bed and getting the doodlebug ready for his Gram or Nana around 5AM. Or that I don't take a lunch break. Or that when that office door is closed, I am typing-while-pumping. A newly acquired skill!

Nonetheless, there's still a bit of hostility in the air. Nothing obvious, but detectable in whispers around the office. Or sudden silences when I appear. Luckily, there are half a dozen other mommies in the office, and they give the place a pleasant vibe. And make it very easy to forget about the few sour grapes.

Zipping through the back of the baby christmas sweater-these little cables are a breeze!

Tuesday Morning Cute-Attack

He did it again. The little devil made me cry.

I am so in love with our little boy, that I cried all the way to work today. Its so hard to leave him after four days of utter paradise. He probably doesn't even notice I'm gone, since he gets to play with his Nana today. But I'm feelin' it. Bad. After all, you leave the warm, welcoming rooms of your home and the child that adores you for the cold, uncaring world of work.

It sucks.

But I have a little shot of of the booger in his little sweater, lovingly handknit by Carole. It was perfect for him on sunday, when there was a bit of a chill in the air. And he looked quite handsome in it, I must say.

Who Do You Knit For?

I was talking with Blogless Sharon yesterday about knitted gifts. I have been feeling a bit selfish because I have yet to knit anything for the mister, and have knit only two sweaters for the little one. With the time it takes me to finish a project, I usually think long and hard before deciding what to make. Its quite the committment for me, and not something I would do unless the end result will be appreciated. So if not for yourself, who do you knit for?

There have been a lot of blog discussions about this, and it seems that generally we are in agreement: knitting for fellow knitters is the most appreciated. Only a fellow knitter could know the thought that goes into a gifted knit; the deliberation over what pattern, what texture, and what kind of fiber to use. A non-knitter may not know this, and may toss that handmade treat carelessly into their laundry pile. Or worse, the recipient may handle it like the holy frickin' grail and pack it away carefully, never to be worn. My heart breaks! If this happens, it is doomed to never receive the oohs and ahhs that a handknit should get once it is recognized to be a one-of-a-kind work of art!

There is only one kind of person that will truly appreciate the gifted knit, and use it appropriately. Say, a person who waits for their child to fit perfectly into that adorable sweater so she can then post pictures online and give due credit to the person who lovingly and generously gave that mahhhhvelous shower gift. *ahem*

So onto another subject, we have here some cranberry red yumminess. Soon to be baby's first Christmas sweater because I figure it will take that long to finish it. I've been salivating over this pattern ever since I discovered I was pregnant, and hope to find a pattern that closely matches it for daddy. I was a second away from making this in Debbie Bliss cashmerino when I spotted this Berroco ultra alpaca- its not machine washable, but that didn't stop me.

Like a crow attracted to a shiny object, I am drawn to anything red, and could not resist the richness of this color. It is so merlot-like that I had to rush home and open a bottle of cabernet to celebrate.

Dog Vs. Armwarmers

Everyone needs a mental-health break from time to time. Perhaps an hour or two spent in some kind of calming activity (and I don't mean eating though that is very calming as well). Maybe a walk through the neighborhood, or a moment taken on your back porch. Where you take a few deep breaths. Sigh. Then stretch. Turn. And wave to your neighbor Tony who is raking his yard. Just fifteen feet away. (And has picked up more than just a few details about your personal life than you care for him and his wife to know. But they are retired and watch the neighborhood like hawks. Which will be something you appreciate when your child is at a more troublesome age I suppose.)

I can count many breaks from this past weekend. (I skipped the CT Sheep & Wool Show, dang) A long stroll with the baby around the area, stopping briefly in the cemetary down the street to read some heartbreaking poems on the back of loved ones headstones. A moment taken in the back yard, as I assessed the Spring re-growth and contemplated which annuals would be the brightest against an old stone wall. (But planted nothing) Another moment taken in the nursery while the little monster napped, and I sat in the rocker reading a child's picture book to myself. Poor Despereaux the mouse! Will he save the princess?

And of course some playtime with Scout, who has recently endured a dreadful clipping and the introduction of the electric collar and fence. Despite his elctro-shock therapy he is doing quite well, and loves my finished cabled armwarmers, made from Blogless Sharon's homespun. And not really made from any specific pattern per se, but copied from bits here and there. In order to extend them above the elbows I did four increases gradually, beginning at the thickest part of my forearm.

You might be asking yourself- is she still WIP-less? Ah-HA! She is not! More on that later this week, but I promise it is very very yummy.