Hallelujah! I have been "knitting" for six weeks now and finally, finally completed something! I made a hat for my baby, my sixteen month old baby, but still it's a hat for my baby!
No, he did not sprout horns, I know you're thinking that. I didn't say it was a good hat, geez
I really didn't think he would keep it on his head, figured I would put it on him long enough to get a few pictures and it would end up in his hope chest, but he wore that hat most of the afternoon like he was proud of it. Jacob, the child who cannot even LOOK at a hat, wants one too, so we are going "to town" on Friday so he can pick out some yarn and I will get started on one for him this weekend. Now, I am by no means an expert knitter. I, in fact, still suck at it. I anticipate that I will continue to suck at it for quite a while, but I am glad I now have something tangible to show for my blistered and calloused fingers.
All my life I thought I'd be the perfect mother. I even majored in it. I aced all the child development classes I took toward my degree in, wait for it, Early Childhood Development and Elementary Education.
And then they were born. First Jacob, who is 8, then Adam, who is 4, and our biggest surprise, Elizabeth who is 2.
As much as I really wanted to be, I am finding out I am no June Cleaver. For starters, The Beav never had a baby sister.