Here's a baby sweater I finally completed. I've been meaning to finish it for five years. I started it for my half brother's baby before Jeff and I were married. But when my grandfather died a few months later and my half brothers were not included in his will, all hell broke loose and the family split up. (Too bad they missed out on this adorable sweater.)
Three years later, enough time had passed and I decided to finish the sweater. But like a lot of knitters, I abhor the finishing process. Seeking a little help, I got it to this stage. But without a baby as a deadline, I let it sit unfinished.
Two years later, on February 20, 2009, Cousin Aidan was born. I pulled out the sweater to take a look. What I saw was a mess with the collar in the picture below.
Oy! I put it down thinking I'd have to rip it out and redo it, but would probably need help again.
Last weekend while I was at the knit shop for V's bowls, I took this albatross of a project to get some help. I showed it to the woman to ask a question. On a side note, I told her the pattern was meant to have button holes, but I didn't make them and wasn't planning to add buttons. She took a closer look and said, "You made button holes." Really? Take a look at that "messy" knitting above. Apparently, those are button holes. I came home thinking "what am I going to do myself!" Then I declared to Jeff that I was finishing this damn sweater even if it killed me.
The woman at the knit store also mentioned that she loves finishing. So while I worked on weaving in ends and assembling, I paid a lot of attention to my body process wondering if it might be possible for me to enjoy the process. While it was pleasant to be very conscious, the entire time (over 2-3 sitting sessions) I felt anxious. I have decided I need to learn a few more techniques, but I'm also not sure I'll ever enjoy this part of the process. Knitting is relaxing to me. I like the rhythm; it calms me. It also quells my guilt for "wasting" precious time watching mindless TV with my husband. But finishing is a much different process. It lacks flow, and I don't do it often enough for it to feel like second nature.
Meanwhile six weeks later, Cousin Aidan has grown up enough that he'll be able to wear this sweater for about 30 seconds. I sent an email to another pregnant cousin, and thank goodness, she's having a boy in June.
Never mind that this cousin lives in the desert and her baby will have no need for a sweater in the summer. I cannot be distracted by such details. This sweater needs a home.
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