Not Matchy Matchy

I knit a hat to go with the Baby Cuteness Cardigan. I used the same yarn, and I even worried that it might be too matchy matchy. Some poor baby girl would be lost in a sea of variegated yarn. Not likely to happen. As it turned out, it’s not at all match matchy. The two pieces look so different. The picture might not show it, but believe me – they don’t go together. With the combination of being knit in stockinette stitch instead of garter and the way the colors pooled, some of the hat colors look duller than they do in the sweater.

No worries, though. The variegated Cuteness will just have to have a solid hat to go with it, and vice versa for the variegated hat. I have to knit more of each anyway, so each one will still get to go to a good home. Hopefully, the families who adopt these baby items will keep them and not pass them on to other families without my prior notification and my written consent (a la Ellen), so I don’t have to take them back anyone. (What a sad, sorry state of affairs. What could possibly break my heart more than seeing Ellen cry? And not just any cry. A sobbing, splatting cry. I want to have her over for ice cream and Oreos to help her cheer up. With this country in the shape it’s in, American citizens deserve to see a happy, dancing Ellen at 4:00. It’s important to us.)

On another note, I’ve been having some morning trouble. No, Mom, not morning sickness. I said morning trouble.
On Thursday morning, I overslept. Normally, my alarm goes off at 6:01 AM. I hit snooze. I hit snooze again. When the alarm goes off at 6:28 AM, I don’t hit the snooze anymore. I let the radio continue to play and I listen to top stories on CBS 880 News. Then I get up and get into the shower. When I’m done, I wake my son and we get ourselves ready to leave the house at 7:15 on the dot. On this particular morning, instead of hearing the announcer say, “CBS News time 6:28,” he said, “CBS New time 7:07.” It took me some time to process what I was hearing. 7:07? That’ts not what he’s supposed to say. What could that mean? What does 7:07 mean to me? Crappity crap crap. That’s what it means. I had to jump up and race into my son’s room, apologizing while I tried to get him to get out of bed. He got ready speedy quick (thank goodness he’s a boy) and I drove him to school in my pajamas. I couldn’t let my mess-up make him late. I raced home, jumped in the shower, got ready and made it to school on time at 8:10 – even stopping at Dunkin Donuts for my large french vanilla with extra milk and Splenda. Amazing, but exhausting.
On Friday, I got up on time. When the alarm went off at 6:01, I didn’t hit snooze. I left the radio on – LOUD – and I woke myself up. I decided to read my book for a while since I had time. Everything went smoothly. M and I both left the house on time and I dropped him at school at 7:19. Good mother.
As I was driving, I realized that I hadn’t put on any jewelry. Not a big deal. Although I feel naked without earrings, I knew I could get through the day without them. No rings on my fingers? No big deal. No watch? It’s raining, so we’re not going out for recess. Don’t need a watch. It was when I stepped out of the car after I parked on the street in front of Dunkin’ Donuts that I felt the cold air. On my stomach. I looked down and realized that I had only buttoned one button on my shirt. Just the top one. Everyone who drove by got a peek at my stomach.
Now, you may not know this about me, but when my stomach was created, it was never intended for public viewing. It serves its purpose, but it’s meant to be cleverly hidden under shirts, sweaters. and comfortable nightshirts. Really. And since it’s been cleverly hidden for all of my 41 years, it’s extremely white. Well, maybe it’s more than just your average white. I think it could qualify as glow-in-the-dark.
I quickly yanked the shirt closed, clutching the fabric between my fingers while my heart pounded. It’s really not that I was embarrassed – although I was. I felt a combination of guilt and fear. Guilt over having innocent drivers and their passengers get their days off to a bad start after catching a glimpse of my belly. Fear that I was going to cause an accident when headlights flashed off my glow-in-the-dark skin and blinded a driver who might rear-end someone else or end up face first into a telephone pole. Luckily, I was able to button up quickly.
On Monday, I’ll wear a pull-over.
Tomorrow is a happy day. I’m going to Rhinebeck with 4 fun friends from SnB! I’m so excited. I never even considered going because I thought it was so far away. The girls have a seat available in their car and it should only take about 2 1/2 hours to get there. Rhinebeck is what all of the knitters call this event, but it’s really the New York Sheep and Wool Festival. I’ve never been – never even heard about it until the last few months of blog-reading and SnB chatting. From what I’ve been told, it’s a knitter’s dream with an overwhelming abundance of yarn, yarn and yarn. There will be yarn vendors, demonstrations, and I don’t-even-know-what. Can’t wait. I’ve got my money and my camera. That’s all I’m worried about. That, and being sure I’m fully dressed before I leave the house.

2 Responses to “Not Matchy Matchy”

  1. mad knitter Says:

    LOL, I just saw this!! What a riot! I had a blast at Rhinebeck with you…I’m so glad we all decided to go! Can’t wait to see your blog post…and I’m making a solemn vow to myself to regularly read my blogs again, and maybe even post to my own, LOL!

  2. Kathy Says:

    You are such a riot – my daily entertainment…I’m coming over to get all clothes with buttons…no more for you!!! Love your new yarn…can’t wait to see what you do with it!!! Love ya!!!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: