Sympathy, Empathy, Elphie

When we adopted Elphie, all those years ago, she came to us with some serious baggage. She had been horribly abused, and was found wandering the streets with a pack of wild dogs.

When her time at the Humane Society in Tracy had run out, they called local a no-kill rescue. Amanda, who ran the rescue, took Elphie in and posted her on Petfinder for us to find and adopt. Elphie was five months old when we she joined our family.

That was in May of 2005, and we've worked hard to socialize her and make her feel comfortable, safe, and loved. For the most part, she's pretty chill, but specific things just set. Her. Off.

Like fireworks.

We had *six weeks* of fireworks every night before and after the fourth of July. Six weeks. Under the supervision of our vet, we had tranquilizers for her, and on the recommendation of a friend, Thundershirts for both dogs. We put white noise on loud in the bathroom in our bedroom (where she likes to curl up sometimes), and did our best to drown out the noise.

(We are also trying Through a dog's ear for fireworks, on the enthusiastic endorsement of our incredible dog trainer. Results tbd.)

Life has a way of throwing curveballs to keep things interesting, and while the Fireworks Bonanza of 2013 was a MASSIVE pain, that was five months ago. So many developmental milestones have come and gone, and Genevieve is still a cheerful, happy, great, well-behaved kid- but she's not always 100% cooperative.

I was anxious about the fireworks, and I was anxious about Elphie, and Genevieve noticed that Elphie was getting more attention than normal and started to act out. Yelling. Crying. Completely out of Genevieve's character.

Thanks to Positive Discipline: The First Three Years, I had the tools to calmly collect Genevieve into my lap, and really communicate with her. The book focuses on communication, understanding, and educating in a kind way. (They have a HUGE age range in their books. You want to read these books.)

I asked her if she was upset because Elphie was getting more attention than normal. [Yes.] I told her that the loud noises were scaring Elphie.

"When you're scared, do you like it when Mommy snuggles you close?"
"Yes."

"When you're scared, do you like it when Mommy gives you hugs and kisses?"
"Yes."

"Do the snuggles and hugs and kisses make you feel better?"
"Yes."

"Elphie is really scared right now, and I need you to be cooperative and helpful tonight. I need you to help me take care of Elphie."
"Ok."

Once both dogs were suited up in their Thundershirts (Niki isn't a huge fireworks fan, either), and Elphie had been medicated, we were waiting for the meds to kick in. At this point in the process, I give the dogs some peanut butter as a special treat because (a) they really like it and (b) Elphie forgets to freak out while she's eating peanut butter.

I started with a tablespoon of peanut butter for the dogs, and Genevieve on my hot on my heels. The dogs polished it off pretty quickly, and Genevieve spoke up.

She asked for more peanut butter for Elphie. Specifically, signing while she was speaking so that I would understand what she was saying right away, "More, PEEEEASE. HEPP Effie."

My heart nearly burst out of my chest. I was so proud of her. So, I told her. 

"Thank you for being so cooperative and helping take care of Elphie. Let's help her now," I said, and we did.

This kid totally gets it.

Other than being INSANELY proud of Genevieve,  it's important to tell this story for another reason. I was at a book signing for an *incredibly* popular children's author when Genevieve was less than a year old.

I forget the context of the discussion, but the author pointedly and factually told me that children under the age of three simply *aren't developmentally capable* of either sympathy OR empathy. I thanked her for signing Genevieve's books, and left knowing in my gut that she was wrong.

In the bigger picture, it's not about being right or wrong. I think it's recognizing that sympathy and empathy look different on a toddler than they do on an adult. Not to compare children to dogs, but there are also people who believe that dogs don't have souls, or personalities. If you've ever loved a dog (or two, in our case), you know they're just wrong.

I really feel like Genevieve has learned that we all take care of each other because we love each other. Sometimes we "hepp Effie", and sometimes Elphie helps us.

Knit like a Zimmermann

(To the tune of "Walk Like An Egyptian", preferably the version by the Puppini Sisters. Go listen, you'll love it.)

I'm ashamed to admit that though I co-host a knitting podcast, I've never written about the podcasts that I listen to- which is why we podcast. Because we love listening to them!

One of the new shows that has popped up in the last year is Knitting Pipeline, hosted by the charming Paula, who also is a bagpiper. (Also, how great is it that there's a niche for bagpiping and knitting?!)

Paula knew Elizabeth Zimmermann personally, and they corresponded by mail. For those of you not in the know, Elizabeth is considered by many to be the mother of modern knitting, such as it is. I knew *about* Elizabeth's books, and I have owned all of them for quite a number of years, but I never deigned to read them- I just collected them for the patterns.

Two years ago, I knit a baby surprise sweater and complained that Elizabeth's directions weren't breathe-here-blink-here clear. You'll forgive me, right? I was young, and it was the impetuousness of youth speaking. I am Much Older and More Worldly now. Also, I just flipped to the pattern, I didn't read the book, and as everyone knows you should read directions All the Way through.

Given that earlier this year, Elizabeth's patterns and books were described to me to be more like recipes than strictly knitting patterns, this makes much more sense. However, if you're used to The Joy of Cooking and you get a family recipe that says "a pinch here" or "a dash there", (or my favorite, "cook until done") and you happen to be a child who thrives on structure and exact measures to feel comfortable initially, it's enough to reduce your normally composed self to tears.

So, I'll say it.

I was wrong.

What? You couldn't hear me?

I was wrong. WROOOOOOOOOOOOONG.

Elizabeth is brilliant and personable in her books. (Nod if you already knew that; this is my fresh discovery, please share the enthusiasm of novelty.) I don't normally care for people chatting with me in my literature, but it seems that Elizabeth and I have a lot in common. She has a lot of tips and tricks (and my beloved math, in the form of percentages!), and I'm eating it up faster than dessert at Marché.

The only thing that could make me feel closer is if she reached out and asked if she could have the last glass of Syrah- after all, we've been sharing the bottle while I read.

The Blizzard (my nickname for her, since we're good friends now) makes me want to go dig in my back room and start a percentage-based yoke sweater. She makes me want to sing "The Blizzard and I" at the top of my lungs.

Her writing has inspired some of my favorite writers, most notably Stephanie Pearl-McPhee. It's like seeing 10 Things I Hate About You then seeing Taming of the Shrew (preferably performed live, if you're lucky enough it's at Shakespeare Santa Cruz). It's so similar, but the original is what has inspired (now 3) generations of knitters. Good quality and sensible thinking will always outlast the test of time.

Now if only I could get her books on my Kindle. Then, I could have my buddy The Blizzard with me all the time, and not have to weigh down the corners with my lazy Kate and not break the spine.