…a pair of mittens that were made by your mother.
I think we have already established that I love The Muppets, adore the Muppets Christmas Carol and tear up every time I hear this song:
Achievable goals and carefully managed expectations are, in my humble opinion, the key to a happy Christmas.
That said, I set myself the totally unrealistic goal of making a pair of mittens for each of my four children for Christmas.
Particularly unrealistic considering that I am not a brilliant knitter, had no idea how to make mittens, and had never knit in the round, until a fortnight ago. It was pure sentimentality, I couldn’t help myself.
It turns out that Christmas-mitten-knitting, as well as sounding delightful, is FUN!
The first pair turned out smaller than planned. That’s OK because there are hands of every size in this house.
I’ve just made mittens and someone has rushed to claim each pair. It’s like Field Of Mittens around here. Knit it and they will come.
Middle Girl requested stripes and open fingers for playing hockey.
Teenage Daughter is a big fan of ballet pink. This was the most relaxing pair to knit. That colour would lull you to sleep.
I didn’t think that Teenage Son would be too keen but he surprised me. He asked for full mittens with mis-matched stripes in as many colours as I could muster. Happy to oblige.
The thing is, they’ve taken ages because Teenage Son has HUGE hands! I can’t quite believe it.
Seventeen years ago, I was eight months pregnant and contentedly knitting this:
Santa brought one present; this guy:
He’s called Mungo, which means beloved and that he is. He had a lovely red jumper and then a second red jumper and then a blue jumper and, eventually, his blue onesie. Mungo-sized clothes are my comfort zone.
This is Baby Teenage Son and Mungo.
Can you see those tiny baby hands?
When did this happen?
Feeling proud of my knitting and maybe just a wee bit teary-eyed.