I am terrible at setting knitting deadlines. Take, for instance, my wheaten wrap. I started on this lace and cable behemoth before summer’s humidity killed my desire to knit. My timeline was, I thought, a modest one. Cast on, knit, bind off, and block over six weeks. It sounded doable, especially since the cable and lace pattern was an easy one to commit to memory and I only had 1,000 yards of knitting.
Those six weeks came and went, and although I had made significant progress toward completing the stole, many pattern repeats loomed between me and the finish line. One day in mid-July, just past my self- imposed deadline, I wondered what happened. It’s not like I put off knitting until the last couple of weeks – I worked pretty steadily aside from a quick detour to knit a sproutlette baby dress. I didn’t spend very long pondering the reason for my lackluster knitting efforts, because my own personal tornado (also known as a toddler) whirled through the room and offered me a quick reminder.
Even though my day-to-day reality affords little time for me to pursue my hobbies, in planning mode, I anticipate everything running smoothly. I survive the work day, spend the evening with Addie and Z, put Addie to bed, and when that’s all finished, I still have a couple of hours to lounge on the couch with knitting in hand and my latest obsession on TV ( Downton Abbey right now. Finally). What actually happens is I leave work later than I intend, by the time I get home with Addie it’s closing in on the moment when she erupts into tears and clings to my leg because she’s hungry and dinner hasn’t made it to the table, Z and I take turns doing dishes and playing with her, and when I take Addie up to bed, a two-hour-long battle of the wills ensues until someone finally wins (when Addie wins we both end up asleep). There’s not much room for fitting in knitting after all this.
I don’t think my situation is terribly different from that of most parents, so it’s not something I sulk over. This phase will eventually pass, and I’m already looking forward to teaching Addie to knit so we can enjoy quietly making together. I take it as an encouraging sign that she already loves yarn. Even more encouraging — last night she found a couple of double pointed needles I mistakenly left within her reach and settled on the couch with them and a little ball of leftover yarn. She poked at the fiber, attempting to mime the way I move the needles and declared, “Addie yarn knitting!”
In the end, it doesn’t matter how long it takes me to finish a knitting project. The important thing is that I savor each row, even if I only work one or two at a time. It helps that I do eventually have things to show for those stolen moments, like this Wheaten Wrap. Ultimately, it took nearly six months to complete, and I am in love. I don’t get to keep this one, but since it is intended for the friend who officiated my wedding, I’m not too sad. And maybe some day, when I’m feeling ambitious, I’ll cast on another one just for me.