It has come to my attention, looking at my ‘Favorites’ menu, that I have a knitting blog. I wonder why this is, since I don’t knit. Not that I can remember, anyway. I haven’t knit anything for eons, or at least the past week. What is this “knitting”? Do I knit? And if so, what do I knit?
Instead of knitting, I have been overseeing a variety of Baby Activities for a variety of Babies. Some events involved real babies, others, for reasons of public safety, involved baby substitutes:
Here, Lis is strapped and snapped in the Baby Bjorn Simulator Module, rehearsing possible Baby Bjorn Situation Scenarios in preparation for her upcoming trip to China to be united with her daughter Jamie. This particular Baby Bjorn happens to be our family’s Ancestral Baby Bjorn. It is sacred. My own babies spent many squished hours suspended in it while I walked the streets in search of adult conversation. It has been to China and back, twice already. It has been washed and dried and Febrezed countless times. Someday, when there are no more babies to ride in it, I am going to have it bronzed. Or something.
And then along came an actual baby: Rosie stopped by for a few days. Yay! Rosie Time! Carrie tenderly read to Rosie:
…while Joseph tenderly performed 24-hour surveillance on Rosie:
In this picture, Joseph looks like he is reading a book, when actually he is assuming a covert position from which he could, without detection by the subject, observe her every move. Joseph’s expertise at Human Intelligence was impressive. Rosie did not do or say anything even slightly against the Rules of Not Touching Things or the Rules of Not Turning Things On or the Rules of Not Making That Noise–she did not even have a look on her face hinting at an intention of violating these rules–without Joseph filing a prompt and detailed Report of her shocking lawlessness.
It turns out that even if you are 6, and even if you don’t much like your mother kissing you, you still experience a twinge if your mother kisses someone else, particularly if that person is younger than you and very cute and kissable. Upon kissing or hugging Rosie in what I consider to be a routine manner, or casually calling her ‘sweetie’, I would hear, from some distant reach of the apartment, Joseph calling out, ‘I love you, Mommy!’ Just because he loves me? I think not.
[Be on the alert, now, for some Knitting Content. If you blink, you’ll miss it.] Part of the Baby Rose agenda involved taking her with me on my search for provisions for Baby Jamie’s Baby Shower. Sort of a double-baby whammy. Rosie went with me on the subway(it’s noisy if you’re not used to it) and taxi, all the while wearing an adorable hat that Lis had knit for her. (That was the knitting content.)
Here’s some of the stuff we gathered for Jamie’s shower:
My decades-long study of Kaffe Fassett’s theories of colour! glorious colour! has had a profound effect on me. I spent an hour in Party City, trying to find just the right close shades of related colors to layer upon each other for an intense effect. And that was just the plastic forks. I also did some excellent work with napkins, paper plates, and cake:
Note: I didn’t make the cake. Note for Ann’s Brother-in-Law: I got the cake at the Cupcake Cafe. I asked them to use as many close shades of orange and pink and as many kinds of flowers as they had. Which, without missing a beat or changing their tone of voice, they did. I suspect that Kaffe has something to do with the Cupcake Cafe. That seems rather obvious.
The shower was a rocking success. It was a newfangled, New Age baby shower, in that men were invited. Men at these events are sort of sweetly clueless. They do not get the Basic Idea, which is to sit close together and cheer for the gifts. Instead, they stood around the table eating, and tried to understand the decorations.
It was a great week of babies. I’m exhausted. Gotta go learn how to knit.