Deep Breathing Would've Been Easier, but It's Not As Cute Wrapped in Tissue Paper

I read recently that knitting is more effective at decreasing anxiety levels than anti-anxiety medication. I don't know if it's true or not in the clinical studies, but this much I know is true: my anxiety levels have been doing nothing but elevating drastically since I took up the blasted hobby. Along with my blood pressure, my heart rate, and my temper.

I'm a crocheter, mostly self-taught, once my mom showed me how to make a slipknot, which I promise was more difficult to me than any stitch I've seen since. Mechanical, I am not. But as much as I love to crochet, the bumpiness of the stitches makes it less than desirable for things like socks and baby hats, which are a whole lot faster to make than full-sized afghans. And the idea of knitting needles clicking together held some allure for me. It just sounds soothing. So while it was still cold outside, when hobbies like crocheting and knitting are perfect for killing Monday night football-watching, I bought a few books on teaching yourself to knit, along with an adorable book called Itty-Bitty Hats by Susan B. Anderson, and went to work. Not one to do things halfway, I immediately knitted Addison a pink hat topped with light pink tulle, and then I made a precious little light pink hat with bunny ears tied with ribbon for Ivey. I started on another bunny hat for Beaux, my best friend Bridget's baby, but since it's already 95 degrees here in Texas, the project is on hold. I don't think that baby has to worry about losing any heat from her head anytime soon.

Well, now Bridget's sister, Georgia, is pregnant with a little girl, and since she's due in early September, when it's still blazing hot here, I can't very well make her a hat, either. So I'm moving on to baby blankets, although that doesn't make much more sense than a hat. I bought Debbie Macomber's book, based on her novel, The Shop on Blossom Street (having just finished it, it seemed natural to buy the knitting book!), spied a beautiful raspberry yarn, and bought enough to make the Baby Cable blanket for Georgia's baby. I mentioned it to Bridget, who told me how nice it is for me to make Georgia's baby a blanket, and I said something like, "Oh, it's a win-win situation, since I love doing it so much. And have you heard how great it is for relaxation?"

Famous last words. I have torn that blanket out, with hours of work and varying numbers of rows completed, at least three times. Finally frustrated beyond words at my lack of skill, and knowing there's no way to improve but to actually knit, I bought a lime-green yarn with bright flecks of color running through and started on an easier blanket from the book, this one with a fringe, for Caiden. He says he wants it to wrap up in when we rock on the back porch--and since we won't need a blanket for the next five months, I should be able to finish it in time.

Except I can't. Because that, too, has been ripped out more times than I can count, and this afternoon, after the final rip-out, I literally threw it across the bed, pouted, and hollered for the boys to put their shoes on, because we're eating out tonight! And we sped away toward Wendy's, me muttering the whole time about knits and purls and dropped stitches. Anti-anxiety, my foot.

So here is why my blog writing has been a little scarce:

Notice the pile of knitting books with instructions, the computer (knitting help via videos), and the once-again begun raspberry blanket.
And that tangled pile of green is the now-abandoned blanket for Caiden. I'm still mad at that one. But do you see that book peeking behind it? It's full of such cute baby and toddler hats that it would make just about anybody want to learn how to knit.

Except you might want to consider buying a large bottle of sedatives along with the knitting needles.