I first showed this picture a week ago in a post about my annual fall sock obsession.
What I didn't tell you was that Princess had been assisting with those socks. (She requested I put a picture on the blog....silly goose.) At five, she's already an opinionated knitter, and doll scarves just weren't going to cut it. She's been trying to get ahold of my socks since before last Christmas, having apparently figured out that one of the benefits of knitting is in producing useful items. On the advice of my friends in the guild, I had tried giving her bigger needles and worsted weight yarn to work in the round, but that wasn't going to cut it. She wanted to knit socks....just like her mommy.
When she asked if she could help with this pair of socks, I decided it was time to let her. I handed over the needles, and after a few minutes of trying to figure out double points, she was off and running. We spent an entire blissful afternoon knitting on my bed during Pixie's nap time - each of us on a sock. I lost count of the number of times she would exclaim, "This is FUN!," or, "I really like doing this with you." Once there was even an, "I know I keep saying this, but I REALLY like knitting with you."
A dream came true for me that day, as my daughter and I discovered how the language of craft can draw two people together.
If you look at the first picture, you will see a band of knitting in the light pink stripe above the heel that looks a bit odd. That is where Princess put in the most work, and as she doesn't do ribbing yet it is pretty easy to see her stitches.
I was going to keep that sock forever.
But it didn't fit. Despite some misgivings after an early fitting, I kept blithely knitting on until the entire sock was finished. After all, she had worked on that sock, and I was NOT going to let anything happen to her work. Princess could barely pull that sock on, though, and so I had to face facts...and a potentially difficult conversation.
And once again my girl surprised me. She rather prosaically informed me that it didn't fit and we would have to do it again. Actually, she did get a spark in her eye when I offered to let her do the frogging, which she then proceeded to do with great glee. She was delighted with the pile of curly yarn that was left over, and as always she enjoyed helping me to rewind it.
My mother taught me that if something was worth doing, it was worth doing right. It's a lesson I have always wanted to pass along to my girls, and apparently I've already started to do just that...without having to do anything other than be my own knitting self.