It all started...

Much like in Harry Potter, it all started with boredom and an owl. 

I started teaching English classes as a way to "pay it forward" while taking advantage of a generous Fulbright grant to research for my doctoral thesis.  I began with one class in September.  Now it's June, I'm teaching six classes per week and, since the Fulbright grant is now but a memory, I went from graduate student philanthropist to "poor American seeking income without a work permit while between grants".

I teach English classes from children ranging 6 months to 7 years.  It's an amazing gig - you get to play with lots of toys, you get to laugh when you tickle another human being, and you feel incredibly proud when a student learns how to say "Please" and "Thank you".  I might also be using this time as a sick psychological experiment to determine whether or not I will be fit for motherhood in the next decade, but let's just keep this between you, me, and the platform.

The drawback to teaching private English classes in Madrid - and probably any major city in the civilized world - is the commute.  I spend 385 minutes on the metro each week just commuting to private classes.  That's a little over six and a half hours.  And I could only listen to "Just Somebody That I Used to Know" so many times before my mobile phone battery gave out and I was forced to stare at other passengers... or nothing.

That's when I found this adorable pattern for a hat.  Mind you, this was a long discovery process, which began with thinking about starting a photography business here in Madrid, and at no point in the process was I looking for baby crochet patterns because I have a bun in the oven (So stop wondering, Mom!)... In the end, I started crocheting on the metro to pass the time and to create adorably, cuddly little creations for newborns suffering from "alien head syndrome".

I may have mentioned this before, but since I am no longer an active grantee, perfecting my ability to live on 40 euros per week, and nobody really pays you in Spain during the summer unless you have a work permit or a highly marketable skill (which, unfortunately, a graduate degree in Iberian literature has yet to grant me), I decided to start making baby hats, which I will eventually sell on Etsy.  I love Etsy.  I love to buy from Etsy.  I love to browse Etsy.  It's like Pinterest exploded into a wonderful orgy of pastel colors and homemade goodness.  Did I mention that I love Etsy?

So that's how it started.  Thanks for joining me on my journey to inner peace and tranquility in what would otherwise be a hair-raising commute, the ability to drown out stupid teenagers who find a metro car the ideal place to practice break dancing with a group of friends, and the perfection of yet another non-marketable, useless skill.

Endnotes (aka, For the Lawyers):

1.  My mom is probably not wondering if I am pregnant, just to clarify.  In fact, I am pretty sure that she is in no way ready for me to make her a grandma again, since she told me very clearly that if I even thought about marrying and creating life with my boyfriend before I finished my PhD, I would be out of the inheritance and she would think that I am the stupidest person in higher education.
1a.  Although my mom did say that I should defend my dissertation before procreating, she never called me stupid.  She also didn't say anything about an inheritance, which leads me to believe there is no inheritance, which is great, since I don't have to be worried about being excluded from it since I picked up and moved to another country. 
1b.  To all of those who love my mom (like me), please recognize that the last sentence was intended to be sarcastic.
2.  Please note that I did not coin the term "alien head syndrome", and I use it to lovingly refer to the peculiar shape of a baby's head after its long journey down the birthing canal.  Really, who ever thought to call it a birthing canal?
3.  For the record, I fully reserve the right to change my glowing opinion should my Etsy business go belly up.