I am such a slacker.

I started knitting baby blankets for my friend N at the end of last May. She was having twins, due in July. I got one finished in mid-June. The second was halfway done by the time the babies were born, on July 4th. Then we went on a trip, and I decided I’d relax a bit and enjoy my vacation, then I had my surgery, and I haven’t picked up my knitting needles since. At this pace those babies will be teenagers looking for the best acne treatment available before I’m done with their gift.

I keep trying to figure out what it is that’s causing me to recoil every time I go near the baby blankets. Literally, I think about picking the second blanket up again and getting started on it, and I feel a little nauseous. The possibilities are… finite. Before being given the word that I would absolutely never have children, I was able to do this. Now that I know I’ll never be a mom, I seem to have some sort of block. I realize that I won’t ever do this for my own children and it hurts, so I don’t bother knitting.

It’s selfish and silly. I have to get back to it. But not today.