cockiness and crochet do not mix

Do: Be a confident crocheter.

Don't: Be a cocky crocheter.

Ah, yes.  That picture shows you ten unraveled rows of double cross stitch from a chevron blanket.  Ten unraveled rows where my fifteen-stitch downward chevron panels became twenty-five-stiches long before my very hook.  How did these extra ten stitches come to be?  I stopped paying attention.  I got cocky.  *hangs head in shame*  Following a chevron pattern is a cinch once you get going.  You know when to skip to stitches on the upward curve, and when to do a v-stitch on a downward curve, all without counting.  You can just tell from the stitches below.  So stitching away while watching Moonrise Kingdom, Capote and too many episodes of Boy Meets World, I found myself just following the stitches of the rows below.  I knew when to v-stitch.  I knew when to skip stitches.  Periodically I checked to make sure my edges were straight.  Yes, I really did.  But I did so with cockiness, with the expectation they would be.  I proudly laid the blanket across the couch to show Seth, when I realized the width of the blanket was noticeably wider where my hook was hanging out than it was at the other end of the blanket.  I threw a tantrum, unattractive in a preschooler and simply absurd in an adult, while I contemplated how I could possibly remedy this without undoing half my progress towards a blanket.  Of course, I could start losing stitches and in another ten rows be back to my regularly scheduled programming... but that would yield a blanket shaped somewhat like this:

So, alas, I had to pull out ten rows.  It was a huge hit to my pride.   I had failed a hat before, but that was mere Ireland in scale to the European Union.  A blanket is a commitment.  I cannot knock it out in a weekend.  It is ongoing.  And taking such a huge step backward was hard, not on my enjoyment of the hobby but on my pride.  "I am a lion, hear me roar!" turned to mere whimpering.

Luckily, I made a wise choice to unravel it before bedtime so the next morning I could just pick up and go on.  Since this incident a week ago (where does the time go?) I have gotten my meow back and am back to where I was before the unraveling.  I am proud to say my width has remained consistent and I am back in the zone of a confident crocheter.... but I am constantly double-checking and counting those stitches and being very cautious not to tread again in the cocky territory.