Both of my girls know how to knit, yet I do not. It's a kind of strange thing because when they hit a snag I cannot help them. So far in our experience with each other this is the first thing that I, as their mother, cannot help with. I know it will not be the last but it's an interesting thing. My mother is an expert knitter so when we go to her with a 'boo boo' she always makes comments about 'your mother who doesn't know how to knit.' I rather like the fact that they are learning early on that they can do things I cannot.
In Waldorf schools children learn to knit before they learn to read because using two hands for handwork uses both sides of the brain and they feel prepares the brain for reading.
I had two different women tell me that their very western doctors both said that they would likely be able to reduce their drug intake once they began knitting. One was on lithium for psychosis and the other on Paxil for depression. One was knitting in the waiting room and the dr. noticed and remarked that it was extremely good for the brain and the other it came up in the conversation and he said, "Oh, keep it up and we'll be able to reduce your dosage." They both had learned as adults after their first graders began knitting in school. I was thoroughly amazed at these stories. I also spoke to a woman who works in a nursing home who remarked that the knitters rarely had dementia.
All handwork is apparently not equal. Knitting is one of the rare activities that requires both hands to do separate actions, using both sides of the brain together. Crochet, needle point and sewing use one hand dominated actions, which do not seem to have the same therapeutic effects on the brain. All these are good reasons for me to learn. My youngest daughter is determined to teach me. Each time she knits she asks me if I'd like to do a few stitches. She guides me with her knitting verse:
Under the fence,
Catch the sheep,
Back we come
And off we leap.
I am particularly impressed with her when she makes an error and happily unravels her work to redo it. Often she adds one extra stitch, so she undoes the whole row. I wish I had this level of unattachment to my own mistakes. Usually I try to ignore them, pretend they're not there or just work with them, rather than go back and fix them. I suppose this goes back to having a 'weak will.' sigh.
The other day when we were at the school store when a cool 4th grade sk8er boy walks in sporting his checkered Vans and says to his mom, "Oh, I need some yarn. I want to knit another horse." His mom picks up a skein of yarn that was likely donated to the store as it was a nylon blend- not something the store normally caries. The boy says, 'No, not that. That's that crappy stuff they sell at Michael's.' and picks up a plant dyed wool skein for $16. The mom grimaced at the price and said, 'I think it'll work fine,' clinging to her $6 skein. I smile her way and say, "This school definitely creates yarn snobs." She sighs, laughs and buys the mustard colored plant dyed wool. The shaggy haired boy takes the yarn from his mom and says, 'cool. thanks.' and runs out the door with it under his arm. These are the moments when I think our future will be just fine. For those boys being taught how to use guns at this age there are those who are using knitting needles to make horses.
