The Nonsensical Ramblings of a Tiny Knitting Grandma

The second Alexis walked through the door after school, she picked up the stabby pointy sticks and set her mind on trying again.

And again.

And again.

If ever there was a human who enjoyed being a cranky grandma, it's Alexis. She spent a solid hour yelling at everyone in her path as she once again tried to figure out the knitting thing.

For the record, she did do it. Someone is going to be getting a scarf for Christmas and that someone better squeal with delight and act like it's the greatest gift ever. It's going to take Alexis (and me) several days to finish it, but it's going to happen. There will be mistakes and imperfections, but LOOK THE OTHER WAY. Smile, say "That's so beautiful!" and give the kid a hug. Failure to do so will result in punches from me. Got it? Good.

As Alexis managed to magically pick up four stitches in a row while also dropping two (I suck at knitting, but yet I find this completely baffling -- 12 + 4 - 2? HOW DO YOU DO THAT?), I realized that we have a problem. HOUSTON. PROBLEM. HELP.

When Alexis knits, her mouth still works. Not only does it work, it's more efficient that usual. Remember that McDonald's commercial where they recited the entire menu? THAT'S HOW FAST SHE TALKS WHILE KNITTING. She could recite the entire text of War and Peace in the time it takes her to finish one row.

I don't understand. I'm pretty sure knitting is supposed to be a quiet activity.

I especially don't understand because she seems to think that I'm a captive audience. Her hands are busy, so my ears are free? I DON'T KNOW.

The whole "Use all of the words as fast as possible" thing is how the conversation came up. Alexis felt the need to tell me every possible name for those underwear cover things that go under cheerleading skirts. I call them bloomers, but she has heard them called all sorts of things -- lollipops, shorts, cheer briefs, and Spanx.

It's not the name that I find most confusing, but as Alexis was reciting the word "Spanx," she paused for a millisecond. "Mom, I don't even know what 'Spanx' means," she told me. She paused just long enough for me to figure out that I was expected to answer.

I told her that Spanx are things that grown-ups wear under their clothes to make them look thinner. That's what they are, right? Spandex undergarments? That skinny-ify? That's my understanding anyway.

As I explained my definition, Alexis face contorted as if I had sprung an extra head and it was actively crossing its eyes and speaking Mandarin while it's nose walked away. SHE WAS SO CONFUSED.

"What?" I asked. I really didn't know what was so confusing about my definition.

"Grown-ups wear them to make themselves look thinner?" she asked.

"Yeah," I replied.

"Mom," Alexis said, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Grown-ups don't make any sense at all."

This coming from the tiny knitting grandma who won't stop yelling at her mom.

Sometimes I Hand The Kid Pointy Stabby Sticks

To an innocent bystander, the conversation probably seemed a bit odd.

"Mom, will you teach me how to knit?" Those are the words she used, but what she meant is, "Mom, will you spend an hour patiently showing me how to tie knots around some pointy stabby sticks while I scream bloody murder at you?"

What she meant is what I reacted to when I said, "I'd rather not." Like I said, an innocent bystander would have found the conversation odd.

But Alexis persisted. She persisted and she begged and she used her manners and DAMMIT, I CAN'T SAY NO TO THE MANNERS. (Don't ever tell her that is my weakness. She hasn't figured it out yet.)

That is how it came to be that I let Alexis pick out some yarn of her very own. Then I sat next to her and attempted to teach her how to knit. She started out super-excited, and practically giddy as she considered all of the sweaters, scarves, and gloves that she's going to make. She's not going to make a knit bike cover, though. She said that would be "too crazy."

Her excitement quickly slipped to doom and gloom, though. "I'M NEVER GOING TO DO IT RIGHT!" she wailed. "KNITTING IS DUMB!" she continued. "YOU'RE A TERRIBLE EXPLAINER!" was the final straw. I turned to Alexis and told her we could try again when she was ready to wear her Patient Pants. I already know that the kid can't do anything half way. If she can't master something on the first try, she gives up and she does it in a masterful cloud of anger and seething. See also: it took two years for her to shut her face and quit being all I CAN'T so that she could learn to ride her bike. TWO YEARS. There was much stomping and throwing things that took place in that time frame.

I expected to wait two years before attempting the knitting thing again.

I was wrong.

When I finally followed the stompy, angry Alexis into the house, she was surrounded by art supplies. She had huddled up into the corner of the living room and was diligently getting her art on.

"Momma, I feel terrible about what I said," she told me.

I tried not to pass out dead from the shock. AN APOLOGY? SO SOON? WITHOUT PROMPTING?

"I made you something," she continued as she handed me a handwritten apology.

So what I'm saying is that there is hope that she'll have figured out this whole "learn with patience" thing before I try to teach her how to drive in 8-ish years. Which, THANK GOODNESS. Maybe I can stop practicing that jumping out of a moving car before it crashes into a wall thing.

Pasta Pomodoro with Zucchini

I wasn't joking when I said we're all up in the zucchini lately.

THAT is what happens when you fall behind on picking zucchini. One day that thing was two inches long and way too small to be useful. The next day it was big enough for Alexis to declare it her "new baby." She carried it around for an hour before giving it a nice home on our front porch with our pumpkins.

(Simmer down. We only have pumpkins on our porch because we grew them in our garden and they were done with the growing thing. I don't have anywhere else to keep them until October, OK?)

That particular zucchini is useless when it comes to cooking because big zucchini have too many seeds and are super hard to cut. I'm super lazy, so no thank you! I'll just grow more! But, I still have a whole bunch, so I'm continuing with my ZUCCHINI ALL OF THE THINGS plans. The most recent adventure involved taking an old recipe and adding zucchini to the mix.

It worked out perfectly. Better than perfectly, even. I might just always add zucchini when I make Pasta Pomodoro.

Pasta Pomodoro with Zucchini

(serves 4)

1 box (1 pound) angel hair spaghetti, cooked according to box directions
1/4 cup olive oil
1 small zucchini, diced
1 large yellow onion, chopped
3 cloves minced garlic
1 tablespoon dried basil (2 tablespoons chopped if using fresh)
2 cans diced tomatoes (8-10 Roma tomatoes if using fresh) (fresh is totally worth the effort)
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1/4 cup white wine
Crushed red pepper flakes
Black pepper
Parmesan cheese

1. Cook the angel hair according to the directions on the box.

2. In a large skillet, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the chopped onions, zucchini, and garlic. Sauté until the zucchini soften.

3. Add the basil, tomatoes, balsamic vinegar, and white wine. Simmer over medium heat until you're happy with the tomatoes. I like them a little soft, so I let them go for about 10 minutes.

4. Add as much or as little crushed red pepper flakes and black pepper as you like.

5. Drain the cooked angel hair and throw it in the skillet with the sauce. Stir things up.

6. Serve with parmesan cheese on top, unless you're fixing a plate for my kid. In that case, skip the cheese (but only after you once again question how it's possible that she doesn't like cheese).