On Soup, Salad, and Nesting Dolls

It’s been a little while! As in, over five years. It’s almost like I had a couple of kids, moved across the country, got a new job, and another one, finished grad school, purchased a home, and experienced my first global pandemic. The pandemic hit just as I was starting to peek my way out of the “mom soup”¹ that can blend parents’ lives with those of their tiny ones, and starting to adjust to my new job and home. As I became a stay-at-home-mom for two months when my work closed, continuing to work some from home, projects like getting back into knitting weren’t high on my list of priorities with the tiny snatches of time I occasionally had to myself. 

I did, actually, complete a pair of mittens; it only took two years. I made one around the holidays when I was pregnant with my youngest, G. About a year later, I finally finished the second one, but I couldn’t find the first! This past year I somehow recovered both, wove in the loose ends, and sewed on a couple of eyes for my owl-loving, dear friend (and knitting mentor) in Pittsburgh. A few other starts lie abandoned–the bottom cuff of a child’s mitten, the head of an unfinished stuffed toy, a few inches of an elaborate blanket intended for my eldest, M. 

So when my girls pulled Itty Bitty Toys off our (finally unpacked) study room shelf this morning, I was skeptical. As we thumbed through the pages, M deciding that she wanted me to make every toy and recommending some to her little sister, we happened upon some little nesting dolls in one of the last chapters. It became the perfect project for a reluctant knitter when I realized that I could start with the tiniest doll, and then work my way up as I had time and desire. After M chose her favorite color from our yarn caddy that had thus far only been decoration, the girls clamored about the kitchen and my lap, M serving as my “assistant” and asking me to tell her about the steps. G just turned 18 months this past week, and is beginning, more and more, to be able to play with her big sister for short periods and play some on her own. It felt refreshing to be able to relax and busy my hands with something I once found enjoyable, while involving the girls. After we finished one doll, we decided that G needed one too, and I finished that up with a little parenting help from James when things got dicey toward the end.

I’m not sure when and whether these little dolls will find their companion sisters, three sets of progressively larger dolls into which they can nest. But in a time of so many ups and downs, twists and turns, personally and globally, it’s nice to see a project, however small, to some stage of completion.

As I heard one parent at my center reflect last week, it can feel like little ones are babies until they’re suddenly toddlers, then children, then tweens and teenagers. M, Kindergarten bound in the fall, holds her toddler and baby self within her just like these little dolls. While I can’t know the forms she and G will continue to take as they grow, I’m glad for the chance to witness their rapidly developing minds and bodies evolve alongside my own interests and skills. While “mom soup” might be an apt metaphor for the infant stage, I hope that more and more my relationship with my daughters can be more like a salad–a mix in which the ingredients don’t fully blend together but, while remaining separate, mutually enhance the whole. 

1. I remember hearing this metaphor when M was an infant and felt like it spoke to the fact that her needs–for milk, comfort, changing–got so wrapped up in my own–for sleep, nutrition, even a shower–that sometimes it was like we were the same person. And she and G did, after all, come from within my own body, something that I marvel at when they can pat my tummy and talk about how they grew there. I know I heard the “mom soup” metaphor from another mother and writer but can’t remember where. Every search for it on Google comes up with soup recipes! So if anyone else has heard and knows where I can attribute this source, please let me know.