I blame my parents..

I hate when people blame their parents..

but when this all began..I was not yet my own person.
First..I will admit that I was a late emotional bloomer..
in fact, maturity is one of those things that still isn't a big part of my being ..it certainly isn't natural. I often have to force it though since I am responsible for several lives.
None the less..I have a huge safty net in my life. My husband.
HE is the actual adult..and I play grown up.
But I digress...

It used to be that I was far less my own person..and still very influenced by how my parents did things.
Now Dad did hold a good job..for 30 years...after he got clean from heroin and stopped getting arrested..no really..that is a fact. It isnt some joke entry making you think I came from trash roots..
I did.
But Dad wanted alot more for his kids.
Mom..well..
um..

Mom is one of those people who's life I am responsible for.

OK..I did go to college and I did get gainfully employed taking care of many other lives..they werent human, but..anyways.
I matured..some..Mom never did.
She seems to think she is "fun" the way she is.
Mom cant be bothered to read instructions. Mom cant be bothered to be neat or orderly. Mom cant be bothered to have the correct materials for a project...or even find out what those correct material might be. ( The woman once crocheted a blanket from a wool yarn AND an acrylic..boy was she surprised when she washed it.)
Mom does things Mom's way...screw good results.

Well..back when I taught myself to knit..

I knit a sweater first..with no pattern..and well..I needed to attatch the collar..so I devised a way.
It only looked kind of weird.
Just a tad.

I later started looking at those crazy things called patterns..and saw they wanted me to "pick up" stitches.

o..so it has a name..

I went on for all these years...until tonight..

thinking that I knew how to pick up stitches.
You know what?

Ofcourse you do.

I have been doing it WRONG!

I have been doing a "MOM" all these years!
It's sobering when I give you this info.

I am reduced to tears over some dumb assed thing my Mom has done at least 2 times a week..at LEAST.
Dont get me wrong..I love my Mom..but starting with the fact that she sent me to another country as a baby because she couldn't cope..and then turned around and had my sister..and left me there..and kept my sister..(with whom I am friends..)
well..we have a rocky relationship.
And yeah..I am finally starting to GET IT that Mom has some mental problems going on and is not trying to slowly kill me intentionally..

but I dont want to be like her.

Anyways...I now know how to pick up stitches. Mom be damned.

As for those socks..I think that particular ball of yarn must have some sort of curse on it..I have had to rip that thing about 4 times....

Yanno..maybe I cant really knit after all?
I am in a cant paint, cant knit, bad Mom, bad daughter," my poor husband", terrible friend funk.
And the only chocolate in the house is dark...ugh.