In Case the Grim Reaper is Sleeping With the Vixen 'Reality'...

The holiday knitting has me chomping at the bit and foaming at the mouth like a rabid squeasil or something. It has now become apparent that sleep will be optional and I have, yes - in case you were wondering - already had my 'why the hell do I do this to myself' little meltdown. The answer was readily apparent when I heard Things 1,2, and 3 discussing whether or not to consult me in attempt to solve their 9999+infinity argument. They whispered amongst themselves and it was decided that I get so little knitting time every day as it is that it was either very likely that I would become vicious if interrupted -AGAIN or that the likelihood that I was working on something for THEM meant that any interruption would definitely not benefit them because (actual quote here) 'I don't want her to stop working on MY present just because of you (insert sibling-like insult here). They continued to squabble and just for dramatic effect, I leaned over, picked up a shoe, and dropped it on the floor as if I were getting up to come and check on them....immediate. utter. silence..... You gotta love knitterly appreciation of this caliber.

So, on I knit...and hubster as well. Sure, he's up to his old tricks. Can you believe he actually thought me simple enough that if he just got on my nerves enough I would insist on doing all the knitting myself and therefore free him from his duty? No, sir. Not this year. It is not for nothing that I have infiltrated every member of my family with my knitterly ways....he will knit regardless how many times he tempts me to stab him in the toe with a sock needle. I grow stronger resisting these violent urges, I just know it!

Each year I think I've made a clever plan. A rational plan. Even, a good plan. I dream up the many things I hope to make. I have less coffee the next day and mark off the insanity of my eternal hopeful nature. I wrestle with my inner mama who wishes capes hadn't gone out of fashion and that there is a paradise in the other world made just for heroic moms who knit their fingers off so their red-cheeked children can test, abuse, and permanently mar their precious gifts. This year, I thought I had it all. A simple sweater for each thing. A pair of socks. With the 'help' imposed slavery of thing 1 - a pair of mittens for each of them as well. Pretty sensible, eh? There's always that 'surprise' project. For this year, it was the Errol Owl for the Charmed Knits contest - which I never got a response back from when I tried to sign up. No problem, thing 3 was my real motivation for making the owl duo - he gets the surprise. Then, there's the 'I know this is crazy but I just need the exhilaration of trying it' project - the birch leaves socks. They are in progress. Lastly, there's the 'this is why I shouldn't drink and listen to Christmas music and blog surf at the same time' project. I didn't really plan for that one. Suddenly, Thing 1's simple raglan became a hoodie rogue pullover with cables!

I still cling with raspy breath and shaking fingers to the hope that I'll get it finished before the holiday. Just for a few moments, I thrashed myself for being so stupid...and hopeful...and insidiously optimistic....but then I realized I am growing after all. Whilst last year I would have clung steadfastly to denial and knit until I fell apart in mangled nest of balls of string from four different projects all being worked on at the same time, this year I am learning to hope eternal but also prepare for dashed hopes. I had some time to think about this yesterday while a took a break from the loop making and actually dyed up some stuff for the shop because I guess the family will be expecting food, a roof over their heads, etc. etc. even after the holiday and my heroic knitting. While I worked, I thought. I know, I know - Pooh bear, move over! Who'd have thought about thinking RATIONALLY about knitting?

Anyway, I've lined up all remaining projects and put them in 'doable' order. Sadly, and though I nearly pierced my eyes out with my cable needle before admitting it - Rogue is at the bottom. I still have hope - but fool's hope- and I lack Gandalf's charm in accepting that at the moment. Just in case I can't get it done (ah - the pain!), I am taking a day out and some of this out of the shop to make her a Calorimetry. I'm also spinning up some 'Gotland' yarn that she's wanted for a while. They, contrary to my great hope and determination inspired by motherly love and affection, will likely sit under the tree with a big, fat, I.O.U. on top - at least there will only be one this year. Gaw, gimme chocolate!