I’ve been knitting. That’s what I’ve been doing.
That’s why posting has been light, that’s why you might have seen me dragging yarn to the playground, knitting over cocktails on girls’ night, and stopping mid-conversation to count stitches.
This year I made 48 hats, and every day Mary Virginia would cozy up to me and ask, “Is that for me?” When I told her no, she asked who it was for. And I would reply, “I don’t actually know who this is for.” To which she would respond, “Mommy. Today I made a card and I didn’t know who it was for and then I gave it to Maggie! So maybe you can give that hat to her.”
In response I would ruffle her hair and send her a link to my Etsy shop. If you want a hat, you can order one just like everyone else, sister.
My kids’ Christmas break from preschool started Friday, and I feel like mine started as soon as I shipped my orders. Now I can do all the Christmas things I look forward to every year — making homemade marshmallows and cinnamon bread, wrapping presents, and finally finish putting garland on my mantel (something I started three weeks ago).
This week was to-dos, lists, and frantically casting off yarn. Next week will be all Christmas fun and anticipation as we celebrate and prepare for the coming of Christ.
A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2016.
David / This weekend David had a sleepover with Caleb. Since Caleb started kindergarten this year we don’t get to see him quite so much, so this weekend was an extra special treat for David.
Mary Virginia / If you came to our house, Mary Virginia would stage a parade for the purpose of taking you upstairs to see her new big girl bed (No more floor bed! Thanks Justin and Lauren!) and her new lamp. The lamp spends more time outside in the hall because, well, maybe you could try explaining to her that the lamp cannot shine directly in her face at bedtime.
Thomas / My parents came for a quick visit this week, and Thomas was ALL OVER my dad. He begged my dad to hold him, and any time he sat down, Thomas crawled into his nap. Once he even bit Dad’s shoulder. Until now, biting is an honor he’s reserved for me.
