It is a well known fact that babies grow. It is also a well known fact that babies harbor an instant, genetic need to torment any knitter within their family circle by growing faster than the knitter can knit. Armed with this knowledge I was mentally prepared for the news that my sister was pregnant. My mum told me when she was about two months along. I had plenty of time, not just for knitting but for planning.
The baby was due in September. I thought about weather patterns in Indiana (an oxymoron if I ever heard one) and concluded it generally doesn’t get cold until late November. So, I thought to myself, I’ll make all the sweaters and mittens and warm woolen things a size too big. The baby will surely grow into them by then, and even if they are a wee bit too loose, we can layer them with onesies and so on.
Thank you for your immediate understanding. I had to explain this concept several times to my sister.
So, on I went, merrily casting on projects in the 3-6 month range. Truthfully, I may have gone a little overboard, but it’s my sister’s first baby and I love my sister and I show my love with knitting. Also, baby knits are so quick, so cute, so satisfying. Like the Pringles of the knitting world.
So the days go by and finally September rolls around and after much loudness and swearing my brand-new niece, one Lilly Joellen, is born and begins almost immediately to fuck with me. For you see, despite having cooked for exactly 9 months and change, she came out weighing 4 pounds. She was remarkably strong and healthy, no jaundice or weak senses. She was just…tiny. And of course, she needed gentle care and we all had to wash our hands frequently, but besides that she was just a perfect, four pound little salami loaf.
After my initial 72-hour period of nonstop worship of the newest, pinkest member of the family, reality dealt a crushing blow. She couldn’t fit into anything I had knit her! Hell, she couldn’t have fit into it if I had knit newborn sizes! The sweaters hung like ponchos, the booties couldn’t stay on, and the hats covered her whole head like a merino ski mask, only without eyeholes.
I cursed and wept brave, knitterly tears. The one time I had thought ahead vis-à-vis babies and their rate of growth, I was shot down. She wouldn’t be able to fit into anything I made her in time for winter, and she might outgrow it by next winter, if my mother’s firm belief that babies grow like mushrooms after the rain proves true.
So you can imagine my joy and elation to open my inbox and see these!
|Ours is a true love, Mr Sippycup!|
|Nose is here!|
These are amazing for two reasons:
A. Little Lilly-bug is wearing something I made and I have photographic proof
B. If my sister is to be believed, it’s Lilly’s favorite hat and doesn’t like to take it off.
Oh yeah. That’s the good stuff.