Knitting a beanie

It sounds simple enough, doesn't it, "knitting a beanie" ... ?

I am sitting on my bed surrounded by knitting manuals... Knitting for Dummies, Stitch 'n Bitch, 101 Designer One-Skein Wonders, Hip Knit Hats.  I have circular needles, double-point needles, regular needles... all in different and seemingly incompatible sizes.  My circular needles have a cord too long for a hat; the cord has to be shorter than the hat is round, else the stitches can't slip around.  Or something like that.  The double point needles -- you use four at a time to "knit in the round" -- seem daunting.  I also have lavender yarn, and a nine year-old who is ecstatic that Mama learned to knit so that she can wear cool beanies -- including one to match her American Girl doll Julie's lavender beanie.  She begged me to go to the craft store today so that she can pick the lavender yarn.  And before going to bed tonight, she asked, "Mama, are you going to start my beanie?"

Petunia is a good kid.  An exceptional kid.  In fact, she might be the best kid ever.  She is angelic, empathetic, smart, funny, good-hearted... I want to knit her a beanie.

But alas, I don't know what the hell I am doing!

I learned to knit last winter.  I can cast on, knit, and purl.  I haven't yet binded off (which means that I haven't finished the very lovely scarf that I started -- though it is long enough, it's not "closed" or whatever).  I have made one thing: a scarf.  Almost.  What was I thinking telling the child that "sure, Mama can knit you a matching beanie!"

And I didn't stop there.  I am determined to knit my son a pillow to carry when he serves as Ring Protection Agent in my brother's wedding next summer.  By then -- a year from now -- I should be able to do it.  (I'm pretending he's getting married in January so I actually stand a chance at getting it done, though.  What can I say?   I keep it real.)

Tomorrow, maybe I'll try to at least pick up the right circular needles and a skein of yarn on which to practice.  Tomorrow, maybe I'll crack the book and figure it out.  I'm smart enough, I'm determined enough, and darn it, Petunia's counting on me.  And if I can't get it done... just a little over three weeks until I'm back in CA, where my friends will bail me out teach me.  So tonight... I'm just going to sleep, with a knitting book under my pillow.  Maybe it'll work like playing Mozart to a sleeping baby?