Sebastian and I have been in a bit of a power struggle the last couple of years over when he would learn to tie his shoes. He was clearly winning, as I was continually convinced to buy slip-ons and velcro models, and every time I tried to teach him how to tie a bow, he would respond with limp fingers and I with yelling.
For the last few months, he has been wedging his thick wool socks into a pair of shoes a full size too small for him, despite owning a pair of low top Chucks in a more appropriate size. But I couldn't very well send him off to school with shoes he couldn't put on himself when the boots came off, so off he went day after day looking more and more like the ragamuffin he is.
Well, along came February break, and when I removed his shoes from his backpack and discovered that the elastic had completely ripped free from its moorings on both sides of both shoes, I made a bold move to win the battle. I threw the pair, along with its dry-rotting velcroed brethren, into the garbage and announced that he would be learning to tie his shoes before he went back to school because he had no other choice. End of the line.
The first few days of vacation passed with multiple refusals to learn and statements of intent to procrastinate. Finally, two days before his return to school, I told him the time had come. He tried. He failed. He tried again. Better, but not right. He tried again. And he did it! High fives all around... Lots of cause for celebration...
The next day we were out shopping, and he was very excited about his future of shoes of all sorts, and pointed out several styles he would love to have. I told him that when he outgrew this pair, I would take him shopping, but that most likely his shoes would not be coming from the large chain store where we were.
The next 3 days of school go by, followed by a weekend of wearing his shoes with no problems whatsoever. They fit. They are tied competently by Sebastian. All is right with the world.
Today I go to pick him up from school and am confronted by the information that my child was shoeless during library and told the librarian an elaborate story about how when his father came home from his business trip that he would be taking him to Target to buy new shoes because the ones he has don't fit. Umm... no, no and no.
And he apparently wandered the halls shoeless all day yesterday as well. One would think that his teacher would have told me about this. But one would be very wrong.
I suppose I should be thankful it wasn't his pants he was neglecting to wear.
It looks boxier lying on the floor than it does on me. (I hope.)
I may decide to change the "sleeves" a little, but otherwise it is fine. And with Ben's help, I found the perfect buttons. Not the ones I had in mind originally, but I'm happy with them.
My February Lady Sweater. Henceforth to be known as the "March Miss Lady Sweater". This pattern is extremely irritating. I'm sort of irritated that I'm even making it considering that every other female knitter on the planet seems to have also made one. But we all know that I hate to follow a pattern, so of course, mine will have short sleeves and 8 small buttons instead of 3 large ones. There was some serious frogging with this little lady. For some dumb reason, the lace part starts before you divide for the sleeves, so that when I would make it short sleeved, it would end up with one little strip of the lace. It looked stupid. So I ripped it back to where the lace started, did some more garter stitch instead, and voila! it is much improved. I also made the button band narrower since my buttons will not be so large.
I thought this was self-striping yarn when I bought it, but it's more like self-spiraling. That's okay. It fits him like a glove. For his foot.
