Merlin's Twin Waves Cardigan Four-year-old Merlin said, "Knit me a sweater." "I'll be happy to knit you a sweater. What color sweater should we knit?" Merlin started looking through my yarn stash and found some yarn he liked. "Go ahead," he said, "knit me a sweater." "Tonight?" I said, "I can't knit a whole sweater tonight." "It takes weeks to knit a sweater," Iris remarked. "Knit me a sweater now." he insisted. We went round a few times, and I decided to humor him for a bit. "The first thing we need to do is to measure you." He didn't like that idea at first, but his siblings all witnessed that measuring was the first step in making a sweater, so he agreed. He was interested in the measurements I was taking and the notes I made, and we had an pleasant few minutes. As I looked over the measurements, he eyed me anxiously. "Will the sweater fit me?" he asked. I assured him that I was taking measurements to make sure that the sweater would fit him, so he relaxed. "Okay. Knit me a sweater now." I told him we'd need to design the sweater. Did he want a sweater that went over his head or did he want one that buttoned up the front? Did he want a plain one or a fancy one? He settled in my lap to look at cable patterns. I wanted to show him a cute nautical cable with anchors, and he wandered off while I was leafing through pattern books. After I gave up on finding that cable, I went to gather the boys for bed. "Bedtime," I said, steeling myself for a bit of a tussle. "Okay," Merlin said, "you can knit me a sweater tomorrow. " I have been knitting a cabled sweater and thus have had a chance to experiment with different types of solutions to the cable problem. I tried dropping and then picking them up, slipping them back and forth, using a toothpick, using a dpn, and settled on a small (size 2, very short cable) circular needle. Dropping them worked well enough, but I found it a bit nerve- wracking. I might not really *need* a stitch holder, but I feel better using one. The toothpick was pretty good, and I stuck with it for a while. It was a little too sharp, and I kept poking myself with it and splitting the stitches I was trying to grab. It didn't work that well when I tried to knit the stitches from it (particularly the purls on back crosses), but it was definitely better than any cable needle I had ever tried. Then I happened by my favorite yarn store (it's amazing how often I make an excuse to do that). While picking up an extra skein for my son's sweater, I asked whether they had any wooden cable needles. The yarn store lady handed me a packet of three wooden cable needles by Brittany for $4.75. The needles are a little longer than a yarn needle. 4", according to my measuring tape. They're about US sizes 3, 6, and 9. They're made of white birch, have nicely pointed (but blunted) tips. There's an area just beyond each tip that is slightly thicker than the middle (and so helps the stitches decide not to slip off). They're pleasant to the touch, small enough not to get in the way, don't split the stitches, and are sturdy enough to knit those tight back crosses off of. Even better than toothpicks. Merlin got mad at me the other night because I told him that he'd had enough fruit leather for the day and that I didn't want to give him another one because too much fruit leather gives him diarrhea. He glared at me and looked around for a way to punish me. He eyed the sweater on my needles, his precious sweater that he had been proudly trying on and even carefully chose the buttons for. "I'm not going to wear that sweater. You're going to have to knit me another sweater and we'll have to go to the button store and get more buttons." He wavered the tiniest bit thinking of his beautiful green buttons that he chose himself, but kept repeating his stance all evening. I didn't react much, although I did tell him that I was certain we could find another little boy who would like his sweater if he didn't want it, and that I wasn't likely to knit him many sweaters if he refused to wear them. Merlin is stubborn, but also somewhat changeable. So I knew he might stick to his guns and refuse to wear the sweater. He also might completely forget about the issue. You never can tell which way he'll jump. So I was knitting on the sleeve, fretting about and resenting Merlin's tendency to punish other people by shooting himself in the foot. I stopped myself right there and told myself, "I am not going to knit that into this sweater. Every stitch in this sweater needs to be knit with love." I have a friend who prays over every stitch she quilts. My children each have one of her quilts, and they are well-loved. I suspect there's a relationship between the love that Paula puts in her quilts and the love that the children get out of them. Whatever the cause, Merlin was enthusiastic about the sweater the next morning, and has continued to be.

Copyright © 2004 by Heather Madrone. All rights reserved.