h is for happy birthday

This is my first ABC-Along post that is completely unrelated to knitting. The group's rules are that the photos don't need to be fiber-related, but should be of importance to you. Can't think of anything more important to me than my kids.

Yesterday, my baby turned 4. I guess he's not really a baby anymore, but I'm having trouble wrapping my mind around that. He's my baby, and that's enough for me.

To celebrate his day, Seth had his first school birthday party ... sprinkle-covered cupcakes and party favors for 20. I wasn't there, but his teacher will be giving me copies of her photos. Last night, we had most of my local family over for cake and presents. If a little part of me felt guilty for not having a "real" birthday party outside of school, I got over it really quickly. Seth was ecstatic over the balloons, the chocolate cake with chocolate buttercream frosting, all the cards (and money!!!) from out-of-town relatives and the really cool presents. Four kids in my apartment was way more than enough (and actually I've heard that the perfect size for a party is as many kids as your child's age).

So, well done for us, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SETHLET!

just a hat

It's just a hat. A $3.00 hat from the 99 Cent store. And yet, it's become the most coveted object in my home.

In theory, it's Ian's hat. When he wears it, he's Mr. Cool Dude, or "MisterI," as he's named himself (said out loud, it's "Mystery"). 

Clearly, my kid knows how to rock a hat. But everything is fluid in this household, including clothes and accessories. I've been known to borrow Charles' longjohns for winter hiking; Charles takes my scarves and backpacks; Ian steals my moccasins, and Seth ... well, Seth wants whatever belongs to his brother.

When Seth puts on the hat, he's a cowboy. He gallops around the house, yelling "Yee-haw!" (as any good cowboy does), and "Look, Mommy! I'm a cowboy! See my cowboy hat?"

When I ask him "Isn't that Ian's hat?" he replies, "No, Mommy. It's a cowboy hat. I'm a cowboy. It's my hat." (I like the logic there.)

So ... just a hat? No way. In this house, it's a gateway to a world of cowboys and cool dudes. We really should fork over the three bucks and buy a second one, don'tcha think?

science fair project

Statement of Purpose: To what uses will a trifold board be put other than those for which it is intended?

Hypothesis: Given the overwhelming choice of real toys in my messy household, and the fact that the trifold board is actually earmarked for a science fair project, I propose that the board will be pressed into service as a plaything.

Material List: One heavy-duty trifold board; one preschooler; apartment overflowing with toys and games.

Procedures: 

1. Have husband bring home trifold board for 5th grader's science fair project.
2. Leave board inexplicably sitting in the middle of the living room floor for two days.
3. Leave preschooler to his own devices for half an hour.

Results:

Conclusion: Within 10 minutes of being left unsupervised, Seth had enfolded himself within the trifold board. When asked about this, he informed us that he was camping out and this was his tent.

Discussion: No matter how many toys and games a home may have, the kids will always prefer the things they can create themselves.

Credits: Charles, for leaving the trifold board sitting on the floor; Ian for not using it sooner; Seth, for his wonderful imagination.

ian cooks

Anyone who knows me knows I hate to cook. So maybe it's Ian's survival instinct, or Charles' good influence, but in spite of me, the kid is turning into a chef. The last few days he's been microwaving chicken nuggets (hey, you've got to start somewhere), and cutting up celery for snacks. Ian swears slicing and dicing is easy. And fun.

Okay, I can buy "easy." It's the "fun" part I don't get. I find all that slicing and dicing so unrewarding. I hear that some people find it meditative. And that some get a warm, fuzzy feeling from nourishing their loved ones. I don't. I cook (occasionally), but I don't enjoy it. It just feels like a whole lot of work for something that's gone in a few minutes.

I do like baking, though. I like the smell of baking, the feel of baking, the taste of baked goods. I have baked with Ian since he was small, so maybe I have had a tiny influence on him. But the idea that cutting up celery is "fun"? He sure didn't get that from me.

meet ian

He's artistic. He's creative. He's obviously too young to grow facial hair. So he improvised. The cool blue soul patch? It's a foam letter "U" from one of Seth's puzzles. A few minutes later, it became a pirate earring.

This is classic Ian. The in-your-face pose. The inside-out t-shirt, because details like putting your clothes on correctly are just too mundane for this kid. That's my boy. That's my Ian.

funny kid stories, part III

When I was looking for the picture of Andrea that I took back in college, I came across photo albums from the summer I spent in London and Paris when I was 21 years old. Ian and I spent a fun half-hour looking through them.

One of the last photos in the album is a picture of me sitting in the Parc du Champs de Mars beneath the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. There I am, looking '80s chic in my oversized leather blazer, Ray Bans, and mini-mullet. I know in that picture I've been awake for 48 straight hours, but even make-up free I'm glowing because I'm in Paris, because I'm in love, because I'm 21 years old, for Pete's sake.

Ian wouldn't let me close the book. He stared at that picture for close to five minutes, then finally looked at me and said:

"Wow, Mom, I never would have believed you could be so beautiful."

Thanks, kid. And God will get you for that, Ian.

funny kid stories, part II

There's a painting covering the wall of the parking lot for Seth's school. Yesterday, Seth remarked on it for the first time.

"Mommy, that's a beautiful painting."

"Yes it is," I agreed. Then being a teacher, and not one to pass up a teachable moment, I continued, "Do you know that when you paint a picture on a wall it's called a mural?"

"Isn't it bad to paint on the walls?" Seth wanted to know.

Hmm ... how to answer this one without subjecting OUR walls to future Seth scribbles?

"Well, when the owner of the wall says it's okay and you paint something beautiful, it's not bad," I offered.

"But it's bad to paint on walls," Seth insisted.

"No honey, when it's a mural it's not bad. It's art."

"Okay," Seth said happily. "Then my bedroom door isn't bad. It's a mural."

funny kid stories, part I

I was having breakfast with Seth this morning talking about this and that, when we somehow landed on the topic of taking care of your teeth and visiting the dentist.

"When I am older," he informed me, "I will go to the dentist all by myself. When I am older."

"Okay," I answered. "How old will that be?"

"Really old," he replied. "Really, really old. Like maybe 21."

pure chaos

My house in the morning. Charles is trying to get the kids ready for gymnastics.

Charles and the kids: "Get your gloves." "I can't find my gloves! Where are my gloves?" "I can't find my hat!" "Mom, my scarf is missing." "I know I had two gloves! Where's the other one?" "You need gloves. It's cold. Find your other glove." "I don't have two matching gloves!" "Fine, wear an unmatched pair."

Me: "You know ... the reason I put that chest of drawers in the coat closet is so you can put your things away when you take them off. Then you'd be able to find everything when you need it."

Ian: "What drawers?"

Me: "The ones that are labelled Gloves, Winter Hats and Scarves?"

Ian: (with all sincerity in his voice) "Oh, is that what those are for?"

You can't make this stuff up.

in which lori loses another item of clothing to the cause

I interrupted Ian and Seth during one of their battles to save the planet. Ian's hat is one I knit for myself from Vogue Knitting. Not a cheap hat. Not in time or in money. And so it's one of the few hats I'm actually careful about putting away when I'm not wearing it.

Doesn't matter. As you can see, it made its way onto the head of my courageous knight as he fought dragons or aliens or whatever it was he was battling that day.

At least it's getting a lot of use.

snow day in the city

You know what they say about the best laid plans, don't you? Lovely snow day in NYC. I knew in advance I'd be home. I had plans to take new pictures of my fingerless gloves. But then I stayed up until 4:00 this morning setting up a chart for a year-long afghan knit-along I'm involved in on Ravelry. Woke up an hour and a half later when the snow plows rolled down the street.

Charles took Ian out to play in the snow, but Seth has decided he's more the warm-weather type. He stayed indoors with the other snow slacker (namely, me). Later, some friends came over for Oreos and hot cocoa. When they left, my lack of sleep caught up to me, and I took a "short" (like 2 hour) nap.

So, no new glove pictures yet. But I do have a finished color chart and at least one semi-fair snowy day photo.

P.S. - When I previewed this post, I started noticing a serious theme going on in my color choices these days. Must be going through my Green Period.

color theory

Seth is now putting together his own ensembles. Friday's look: a Fair Isle sweater and camouflage shorts. Perkily accessorized with a small stuffed cat "a la tete."

Those don't go together, you say? Nonsense. I see perfectly matched shades of olive, tan, and buff. Even Sir Kitty matches the color palette. I think Seth has a very discerning eye.

models like to steal clothes, you know

I finished my first neck warmer, and was thinking about trying to sell it on Etsy, but then I made the mistake of asking Ian to model it for me. "This is really warm, Mom," he declared. "Can I have it?"

The perpetual dilemma. You craft something for a friend, or for yourself, and then your kids see it, and bam! all of a sudden, you find yourself having to make a second one.

So even though I told Ian 'no' last night, I think I'll cave on this one. He does wear it well. Of course, that's a model's job; free clothes are just a side benefit.