Why do I Suck at Crocheting?

One of my New Year's Resolutions was to learn to crochet.

And unlike many of my resolutions that more dissolve in my mind than turn to resolve, this one I've followed through on.

I contacted my local Stitch n Bitch group, (national group's website) but didn't like the *tone* I got in the email reply, so I looked at pictures of them on their blog and saw that they were a fair mix of old women, young moms, one questionable dude, and a few who clearly like the Oreos a bit too much.  Normally, these are my kind of people, and bonus that the word bitch is in their group name, but I decided that I'm really not a "people person" and to join an already established group of knitters and crocheters would be awkward because I'd be all, ohmygod did you see how the Bloggess got a panda suit and posed like Eminem? And they'd be all, what are you talking about? And I'd be all, teach me to crochet a Snuggie. I love Snuggies, don't you? Can I wear mine to the meetings? And bring wine?  Oh! Oh! Teach me to crochet a wine coozie! And then they'd give me a blank stare and when I'd shout out a cuss word here and there (not just any cuss word but the mother of all cuss words) and snort when I laugh and do my OH OHHH! noise and make poop jokes they'd look at me with that look most random strangers give me that says what the fuck is wrong with that woman? Then I'd make naughty, anatomically correct crochet puppets and jokes about how when I crochet with my hook I call myself a hooker and then they'd ask me to leave. And as I'd walk out I'd call them all a bunch of hookers, even the one male there, and flip them the bird with my hook.  But not before I filled my purse with their free snacks. 

So, I decided that I'd still like to crochet, just without actually having to socialize properly with others.   I conned the Stitch n Bitch pissy email lady to tell me what basic materials I need and went to Hobby Lobby.  No wait, it was Michaels.  Whatever.  I bought some yarn and a couple of crochet hooks with bamboo handles because that makes them seem all classy and fancy and gives them magical awesome crochet skills power, and promptly searched YouTube for some basic crochet tutorials.

I think I'm actually getting the hang of crochet.  I like that with a video I can push pause and rewind, which I do a LOT because I have adult ADD and start to do other things at the same time as listen and learn.

Meet my hook.  This one I call Curly. 












Here's one of my earliest attempts to crochet.  I had *issues.*  Clearly.

But being ever persistent, I didn't give up.  After about two entire hours of work, I ended up with this:

May not look like much to you, this green wormy thing, but there are really and truly some correct stitches in there.  Score!

Next attempt gets me this.

I was diligent and watched and rewatched my tutorial and actually took it seriously for once and it sort of looks decent.  Hell, it's ugly, I know that.  But it's my stitching, and I love it.  It's a stitch only a mother could love.



So I'm starting to feel all expert like and as if maybe, just maybe I'll eventually get this crochet thing and make scarves and cute hats and potholders and such.  It's a domestic feeling I'm not sure I'm used to, but I'm liking it.  Dammit, I'm gonna crochet some booties and an apron and bake some shit.   
I'm gonna focus and learn and keep this resolution and actually be good at something other than sarcasm and making fun of people for once!

And then I notice that my crochet hooks resemble chopsticks.  And yarn kinda looks like udon noodles.  Let's pretend I'm eating some Chinese food!

By the way, yarn leaves little fibers in your mouth when you pretend it it like real noodles.

Back to serious work.  Focus.

I stick my hooks in my yarn skeen (I even know the official effing language for the yarn thingy) and go to replay some crocheting tutorial video..... but not before I notice that the hooks sticking out of it now make the skeen look like a person with arms.  Hmmm.  Logically, I give him a shoe and one of Wee One's pacifiers and name him King Tut, the Multi-Colored Yarn Mummy.

And now the Hubby walks in and gives me *that* look, yet again, and shakes his head.  As if this isn't exactly what one should be doing with her crochet supplies.

Back to work missy!  Stay on task!

And then I hear some musical noise, and see Wee One has her Little People Ice Cream truck and what King Tut really really wants is some ice cream.  So he raises his hook arm and flags down the truck for a bomb pop.

As I'm playing with Tut and my hooks and my Little People I remember that I'm technically supposed to be trying to actually crochet.  Not take pictures of my random and strange ADD play time.

So I woman up, put in the effort and time, and end up with this:

I'm not totally sure what it is yet.  It could be the start of a crooked sarcophagus for Tut.  Or a lopsided Barbie scarf.  Maybe a penis Snuggie? Or the ugliest potholder in the world.
But like my own kids, whatever it turns out to be, I'm gonna be proud of it and love it and show it off to everyone!  And if they laugh at it, then I'll call them hookers and flip them the bird with Curly.