It was 9:30 at night, I open the door to check on them, to see my children's sleeping faces. I stop, as I imagine that I can hear that soft rubbing of fiber between fingers, hook pulling up loop after loop. I know I have good listening abilities, but surely I must be mistaken with this sound, yes?
I look closer; a blink with eyelids closed. Another blink. Another. I look down towards her hands and I can see a strand of fiber peaking through the covers. "Hey, you're supposed to be sleeping, not crocheting," I say softly not wanting to wake her brother. She opens her eyes and looks at me. "I know mamma, I just couldn't help it! I had to do one more stitch and then more stitches wanted to be made," she replies with a sheepish grin.
I take the yarn, the hook, and the pattern from her little hands. "It's not good to do this in the dark. You can do it in the morning." She agrees; I kiss her goodnight and tuck her covers in. As I close the door I look at the fiber bundle on her table and shake my head in wonderment. Children are supposed to get caught reading under the covers -- but crocheting?
So I wake up this morning and go to check on the children. My son is sleeping in; after all, staying up late to watch the baseball playoffs is exhausting. I look at my daughter and there she is, stitching quietly. She looks up at me and gives me a huge smile; a smile that says she knows that I know she's a crochet addict. Her index finger poking up to thread her fiber, her thumb and middle finger pinching the work; in her other hand she has the hook slipping back and forth creating new stitches in a steady rhythm. She is happy. I leave her to her blissful stitching and head off for my coffee and morning session with my PC. (She's working from the "Springtime" booklet for children, creating the overalls pictured here.)
As I await for that first cup of coffee I wonder. Was I as happy crocheting when I was a child? I remember the joy of "getting it" for the first time -- of understanding how the hook grabs the yarn and pulls it through. I remember the joy of saving up my money to buy new skeins of yarn. But I also remember the times of frustration, of not understanding the written instructions and having no where to turn to for help ...
As I type my entry this morning a sweet voice interrupts my thoughts. "Mommy, what's a BLO?" "Hmmmm?," I look over at her. "My instructions say I need to do a 'BLO' for 10 stitches. I figured out what 'ch' and 'sc' are, but I'm not sure what a 'BLO' is," she says.
I smile. She's learning! She's a butterfly that's learning to spread her crochet wings and take flight. "Sweetie, a 'BLO' is where you need to make your stitches in the 'back loop only."
"Oh, I know how to do that! Thanks Mom!" And off she skips, project in hand, ready to take her crocheting to the next level -- to the back loop only.