knitting sucks

well in the beginning it does.

I have started knitting with my mother’s help. Well, lots of her help actually.  She has shown me numerous patters all of which I exclaim, “That is so pretty. I could make that.”

This is followed up by, “How long did that take you to make?”

My mother, “Oh, a couple of hours.”

I hate my mother. She can absolutely make anything. Hate her. Even when she messes things up they still look good. Damn. Why didn’t I inherit that gene??? And while we are on the matter, who did in fact inherit that gene? It certainly wasn’t my sister. Was the feits so mean as to completely skip a generation? Bastards.

Let all my frustrations out.

I have spent numerous evening knitting while watching tv. Here is a small sampling -

Damn

Sh*it

FN thing

Ugh! I can’t do this.

And finally, “Mom I screwed up. Can you help me?” And I watch her unravel the three wonderful rows I just spent an hour knitting only for her to exclaim, “Oh here it is. Only a few rows back.” Does she have to be so fn cheerful??? I know she is trying to help. I know she doesn’t want me to lose faith in this wonderful art, but seriously can’t she just say, “Wow you suck!”

Over the course of four evenings. I spent at least AT LEAST two hours each night knitting. That would mean I spent eight hours knitting a piece that should have only taken four hours to finish. And what do I have to show for it??? A piece the size of a shirt cuff. Seriously, this is one messed up lesson in life. I knit three rows, she takes out four. I knit two rows, she takes out three. I knit five rows – oh wait, I can’t knit five rows without screwing up first. Uhg.

Then mom dutifully has started to knit a row after she takes out the one I messed up. Thanks mom. Now when I give this gift, I can say, “Merry Christmas, I knitted two rows and my mom knitted the rest. Hope you like it. I knitted a little of it.”

Uhg. Just kidding. Really, I love my mom. But seeing as how she is so good at everything, eventually the jealously comes out. I think she was Martha Stewart in another life. Minus the jail time.

There is hope though. Last night, I think I finally got the hang of it.

I knitted for two hours and not once NOT ONCE did I have to ask my mother to take out a row because I messed up. Either I am getting it or I have messed up the entire rows I knitted last night and don’t know it yet. That will be the big whole when I am finished.

Remember this one?

Ah, Heidi-son, someday you too will be like me!