I took the afternoon off the other day, and ended up shopping and strolling downtown. Among other things, I found the sweetest cabled mittens for the Kiddo. When I stopped in to take Sweet Husband lunch, we had the following conversation:
Him [Indicating shopping bag]: What'd you get?
Me: Oh, a couple of shirts and a pair of mittens for the Kiddo.
Him: You bought him mittens?
Me [thinking of the epic scarf--which is just almost finished, in addition to several other projects on the "to-make-for-Christmas" pile]: Well, if I wait until I get around to knitting a pair, his fingers will freeze off.
Later that day, talking with Nice Mom on the phone, with the Kid giggling in the background:
Mom: What's the Kiddo laughing about?
Me: Oh, I bought him a pair of mittens today and we're just trying them on.
Mom: You bought him mittens?
Apparently, I'm getting a reputation.
But then I started digging in his "Winter" box, and realized that I had actually made him mittens last year in my newly-pregnant-knitting-frenzy. I'm sure he'll lose one pair or the other before it's all over with, right? [The white ones are the ones I bought; I knitted the greenish-yellow ones.]
Although it's apparently branded me as that overly precious mommy that has to hand make every stitch of her child's clothes (I say that tongue in cheek, I know my peeps love me), I'm really starting to enjoy the fruits of all that early knitting.
Three of the sweaters I made last Winter are currently in use. (From top left to bottom: a Placket-Neck Pullover, a BSJ, and an Easy Baby Cardigan [modified to be a hoodie].) His Tomten is still too big, but will fit next year. Only this one ended up being too small. And actually even it would fit perfectly if only I could get his head through the neck hole. We gave it a good try one morning about a week ago--Sweet Husband held him and I tugged. It was not well received by the Kid. (Anybody know a nine month old with an abnormally small head who needs a sweater? Or else maybe I can rip out the neck and make it better? Hm.)
I must admit, it tickles me to watch him crawling away (always on the move these days) in one of his sweaters. And I suppose there are worse things to be known for than knitting.