Hazards of Knitting With A Toddler 

Mom: Reed, did you do something with that purple scarf I just finished?

Reed: (Innocently) No.

This is how bath time went at our house last night. Here I was, wrapping up the day, getting ready for bed time stories and pre-plotting the forthcoming blog post in my head to speed things up once Reed fell asleep. I was going to write a post about my Summer Bucket List of Must Knits.

Then this happened.

My newly finished Architexture scarf, freshly unpinned from blocking, had disappeared. Only an hour before, I had brought it inside from drying, quickly took two seconds and tried it on over my shoulders in the mirror, noting my own quite-pleased-with-myself smirk, folded it up neatly, and set it on top of the computer on my “desk*.” I didn’t think anyone else in the house had even noticed, and if they did, they surely didn’t say anything (for example, exclamations of that’s gorgeous! Or, you finally finished that thing. Wow. You’ve been working on it since before Watergate.**)

Now it was gone.

At least I thought it was gone. I was immediately overwhelmed by that sensation you get when your purse full of cash has been stolen and you just realized how incredibly screwed you are. It’s a horrible feeling. I quickly checked my other knitting spot in the hall closet, in case I had stashed it there and forgotten in the flurry that is my brain. This kind of thing happens to me all the time. Like, when I frantically search for my sunglasses in a total and utter fit of frustration and cussing, only to find them on top of my head. Happens. All. The. Time.

Even before cocktail hour.

Architexture was nowhere to be seen.

I immediately thought of Reed. I checked under Fort #1 (Behind the Couch). Not there.

I checked under newly constructed Fort #2 (Under the kitchen table). Not there.

At this point, I am thinking Reed probably would have thought Architexture, all 800 fingering weight yards of the dratted thing, would have made a pretty fabulous rescue rope. I am also thinking of that pair of kid scissors that was recently floating around one of his forts. My pulse was through the roof. I searched high and low. Under the trampoline. In his toy bins.

It was nowhere.

I returned to the bathroom, where Mr. Innocent was still happily splish splashing away.

Reed, have you seen my scarf?

No mom, I haven’t. Wasn’t me.

Reed, are you sure? Did you put it anywhere?

This little game of cat and mouse went on for some time. Me accusing. Reed denying. Until finally he gave me his first clue.

 I didn’t put it my bedroom.

So of course I scurried right out of that bathroom and into his bedroom.

Thank you Mother Earth, forgive all my sins, I am newly and forever faithful. There it was. In the corner of the closet. (Now, forgive the disastrous state of the closet. Reed and I share one. It’s only three-feet wide. That’s a story for another day. But there it was, still nicely folded, right in the corner. See it?)


The dear child hadn’t even “rescued” anything with it.  Architexture hadn’t been twisted or tied from the curtain rod to be used in some sort of Tarzan replica animal-rescue plot. The scissors had not been applied. I had been spared. A child psychologist would probably hypothesize this was Reed’s way of acting out against sibling jealously. (Reed is an only child, but knitting is his greatest competitor…which apparently he knows all too well, even at his young age.)

Reed tried to blame it all on his father in the end. Sadly for him, dad had long been sound asleep in his chair in front of the golf channel after a long day of fishing. He slept through the entire affair and had a strong alibi..

Earlier in the day, I had aspired to do an Architexture photo shoot in the evening light, in preparation for a final Look What I Did! post later in the week. But after all that adrenaline, I just can’t. I have to go lay down on the sofa and knit to recover.

Please excuse me.


*Amounts to a small table cluttered with all my active knitting projects, a laptop, my fancy camera tucked just out of reach, random office supplies, and bills I should probably pay.

**Okay, since early March. Of 2016.

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  • Reply stephanie young June 5, 2016 at 5:40 am

    your architexture has already led a far more exciting life than mine….mine is just thankful to be finished!!! (it was a good knit, though, wasn’t it?!? thanks for keeping me on track…it’s one that really could have languished for years without you checking in on me occasionally!)

    • Reply Andrea @ This Knitted Life June 5, 2016 at 6:49 am

      I only scurried to finish mine because I saw you had managed to finish yours. I don’t know how I feel about the shape of the second pointy end being different than the shape of the first pointy end, even with an aggressive block. Or did your come out more similarly?

  • Reply Monica June 5, 2016 at 7:12 am

    Oh, how kids keep our life interesting. They give us more than we could ask for. Thankfully, you know have a gorgeous scarf in addition to an insanely cute son 🙂

  • Reply Alina June 5, 2016 at 7:14 am

    Oh, it was the perfect morning read, Andrea! Talk about the tension! Phew… I am glad we have a happy ending!

  • Reply Stefanie June 5, 2016 at 1:59 pm

    LOL. What a funny story to read this Sunday. Thanks for sharing.

  • Reply pumpkin sunrise June 5, 2016 at 2:02 pm

    what a cute son you have and I know that feeling where your stomach does the hugest big flip flop….ugh! I would take at least 24-48 hours to recover from the panic….

  • Reply knittedblissjc June 5, 2016 at 7:21 pm

    haha, oh my gosh! Reed is probably just getting a head start on loving the knitting, and once he’s old enough to learn to knit, he can have his own projects. SO glad that it was safe!

  • Reply zeta (kalianapodi.wordpress.com) June 6, 2016 at 1:19 am

    You can never know with kids, right?
    So glad you found your absolutely wonderful Architecture safe and unharmed!

  • Reply Sierra June 6, 2016 at 11:58 am

    Just reading that almost gave me a heart attack! So glad there were no kid scissors involved!

  • Reply Casey June 6, 2016 at 1:09 pm

    Oh, I love kids, what a silly one! So glad your scarf was safe in the end!

  • Reply itsallaboutpurple June 6, 2016 at 3:52 pm

    omgoodness, reed is adorable. his little voice is so precious!!! i LOVE the purple yarn, with all it’s personality, it’s just beautiful!!!!

  • Reply Hello, Architexture - This Knitted Life June 8, 2016 at 8:51 am

    […] a note to folks with young children in their households: this scarf boasts a strange and potentially fatal attraction to small people. Store in a safe […]

  • Reply Regina Adams October 16, 2016 at 12:45 pm

    I feel ya! Knitting with little ones is such a challenge. Instead of displaying all my beautiful needles, they are under lock and key to ensure baby doesn’t gauge an eye out in a pretend pirate-sword/light-saber fight. I have had my little one take my work off the needle, and pull out stitches…that’s no fun. They always want what is holding mama’s interest, be it knitting or the cell phone! For all the frustration that ensues; I bet that if I ever had the chance to knit in peace, I may find myself missing these days. So I cherish them all! Your scarf looks beautiful like your cutie kiddo! Keep on knitting Mama!

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