Friday, July 5, 2013

A Birthday, a Blanket, and Some Fuzzy Math

As a mother of five, I often push the boundaries of what is mathematically possible.

Three hours between kindergarten drop off and pick up? No problem. Costco is twenty minutes away. Right around the corner from Target, The Grange, and Home Depot. Sure, I can squeeze it all in. But wait! The car needs gas, too. 

The math somehow works out often enough that I keep using it. Really? Intuitive math? Seems kind of...fuzzy.

But it's the same math I turned to when Halle came to me two weeks before her birthday with a special request.
"Mom, I REALLY miss my silky blanket that we left in Idaho. Why did we have to leave it in the hotel? I'm SOOOO sad about it. And Lyla uses the other blanket you made me when I was a baby and ANYWAY it's too small for me now. So can you make me a new one for my birthday? Pleeeease?

Thoroughly amused by the expression of her extra drama chromosome, I began calculating the insanity of the end-of-school-year rush, two family birthdays, and a baptism occupying the next two weeks. An additional calculation including the five children to feed, clothe, clean up after, and run around in five different directions brought my available hours to just shy of,

"I think that's a great idea, Halle!" (What?!)

Shortly thereafter, we headed to the craft store, where Halle's color choices went all over the map before finally landing somewhere near the intersection of Christmas Joy and Pepto-Bismol.


I didn't waste any time getting started.

It's amazing how much I accomplished by removing certain household tasks from the equation. Ignoring dishes, laundry, and apparently Lyla's facial hygiene, I was able to finish the grid in just over a week.

The pattern? Oh, I stink at following patterns. I'm much better at intuitive math, remember? Even when it comes to making blankets.

I turned the finished grid on its side and crocheted back through each row.

My children ensured they were not left out of the equation, stopping at nothing in their attempts to redirect my focus.

Finally, a few pizza deliveries later, I got down to the last few rows.

The moment I set my crochet hook back in its bucket and fanned out my aching fingers, Halle came running in to snatch up her new blanket. It was, after all, two days late.

Nothing like a little bit of fuzzy math to say 
Happy 6th Birthday to my Halle.

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