Merry Christmas, Owen! (a little late)

This post is a long time coming, but worth doing even if late.

I really wanted to do something special for Owen on his first Christmas, and I knew it would probably be to knit him a Christmas stocking.  Knitting is the only craft that I really know how to do, although I hadn't done much of it since high school (nerd alert!).  My stocking, which Gramma Ryan knit for me, is one of my most treasured items.  I have such good memories of digging into it on Christmas mornings throughout the years, always finding a big stash of Hershey's kisses filling up the toe.  I loved the feel of the soft beard on Santa, and how my stocking matched my mom's - also knitted by Gramma.   Kyle has a similar stocking, which was also knit with love by one of several stand-in grandmothers he had, Lucille.  

Just a simple tradition, but a meaningful and memorable one that I wanted to extend for Owen.  

I knew I'd have some time on my hands right before Christmas, as I was scheduled to have surgery on my foot on December 13 and would be confined to the couch for several weeks.  So in November I set about re-teaching myself to knit.  I borrowed a few books from the library and warmed up with a few baby hats that ended up being great gifts for my nieces and nephew. I chose the pattern I wanted to follow for Owen's stocking - an intricate yet seemingly simple, and classic one. I took him to the yarn store (crutches and all!) with the help of Taylor, his nanny, and we chose a beautiful off-white yarn.  And I set off! 

And then I became pretty obsessed.  I worked on the stocking every spare minute I had - when I was supposedly "working from home," late at night after everyone else had gone to sleep ("I'll be up soon," I'd tell Kyle), even while sharing some Christmas night beers with my varied collection of semi-siblings.  

I didn't finish it in time for Christmas morning, but I did complete it while our tree was still standing.  Owen has loosened my perfectionist tendencies enough that I didn't let it bother me.  I hope he will appreciate it next year and for many Christmas mornings to come.  

I never understood how much love could go into making, filling, and hanging a stocking for your child or grandchild until now.  I know I'll tear up every year as Kyle and I sit back on the white couch, having gotten the tree up and the kids to bed and ourselves a glass of wine, gazing our little family's stockings hanging side by side and reflecting on the blessings of the year that has just passed and the many in our families' histories that came before.