Fitting Crochet Into My Daily Routine (As a Mom Who Eats, Sleeps, and Breathes Yarn)
I love crochet.
Not in a casual, “oh that’s a cute hobby” kind of way.
I eat, sleep, breathe crochet. It’s the thing I think about when I wake up. It’s the thing I want to do when the house is finally quiet. It’s the thing I daydream about while I’m folding laundry or standing at the sink doing dishes I don’t want to do.
My comfort crochet is making blankets. Big ones. Soft ones. The kind you can wrap around your whole body and disappear into. The kind that hold warmth. The kind that feel like safety.
If I’m being honest? I just want to be snuggled up in my own creations.
But I’m also a mom. And a wife. And a woman with responsibilities. And life gets demanding. Loud. Messy. Exhausting.
So crochet doesn’t always fit into my day the same way.
Some days I don’t get to pick up my hook at all.
Some days I don’t put it down.
And somehow, in between snack requests, laundry piles, school schedules, and the constant “Mommmm,” crochet has woven itself into the rhythm of my life in a way that I will never give up.
This is what crochet looks like in my real daily routine — not the aesthetic Instagram version. The honest version.
I Crochet Whenever I Can
There is no perfectly structured “every day at 2:00 PM I crochet for exactly one hour” routine over here.
It’s more like:
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Five rows before school pickup
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A few stitches while dinner is in the oven
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Ten quiet minutes before everyone wakes up
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An hour if I’m lucky
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Three hours if the house is empty
Crochet fits into the cracks of my day.
Motherhood is demanding. Being a wife is demanding. Running a household is demanding. There are always dishes. Always laundry. Always something that needs cleaning, organizing, fixing, or replacing.
And some days? I am so exhausted that I don’t pick up my hook at all.
Those are the days where I collapse into bed and think, “Tomorrow I’ll crochet.”
And then there are the days where I get into a rhythm and I don’t want to stop. My hands just move. Stitch after stitch. Row after row. I look up and hours have passed.
Crochet adapts to my life.
It doesn’t judge me for missing a day.
It waits for me.
My Favorite Time to Crochet (And Why It Feels Sacred)
My absolute favorite time to crochet is when nobody is home.
The house is quiet.
No one is asking for snacks.
No one is asking where their shoes are.
No one is yelling across the house.
No one needs me.
It’s just me.
I’ve got my tunes going or a crime podcast playing in the background. There’s a cup of coffee next to me — sometimes hot, sometimes reheated three times. And I sit down with my yarn.
And I just start.
That time feels sacred.
Because as moms, we are constantly giving.
We give attention.
We give energy.
We give patience.
We give solutions.
We give snacks (so many snacks).
Alone crochet time is the one time I am not giving. I am creating.
I’m not cleaning.
I’m not fixing.
I’m not organizing.
I’m not serving.
I’m building something beautiful.
And that changes everything.
Choosing Creation Over Chores (Without Guilt)
Let’s talk about something real.
When I finally get alone time, there’s always that little voice that says:
“You should do the dishes.”
“You should start that load of laundry.”
“You should vacuum.”
“You should be productive.”
But here’s the thing.
Creating is productive.
Crochet is productive.
It teaches patience.
It teaches creativity.
It teaches discipline.
It teaches follow-through.
It teaches problem-solving.
And more than that — it teaches me to slow down.
The world moves fast. Motherhood moves fast. There are schedules and appointments and expectations and responsibilities stacked on top of each other.
Crochet forces me to breathe.
You cannot rush a blanket.
You cannot bully yarn into cooperating.
You cannot skip the process and expect a finished piece.
You stitch.
And you stitch again.
And eventually, something beautiful forms.
There’s something deeply grounding about that.
Blankets Are My Comfort Crochet
If I’m overwhelmed, I reach for a blanket project.
There is something about making something large, something that grows in your lap, something that physically warms you while you create it.
Blankets feel like comfort in physical form.
When I was 12 and learning how to crochet, I didn’t understand the impact it would have on me. I didn’t understand tension. My stitches weren’t straight. My projects didn’t look right. I didn’t understand what I was building or how to fix mistakes.
I just knew I liked holding the yarn.
As an adult, oh boy did I learn.
Now when I make a blanket, I understand what I’m doing. I understand the rhythm. I understand the weight of it in my lap. I understand how it calms my nervous system.
I understand how something so simple can become such a powerful anchor.
And when I finish a blanket?
I don’t just see yarn.
I see hours of patience.
I see proof that I slowed down.
I see something I built with my own two hands.
I see something I can wrap around myself and feel proud of.
There is nothing like being snuggled up under something you created.
It feels like being held by your own work.
The Days I Don’t Crochet
There are days where I don’t pick up the hook at all.
And those days used to bother me.
I’d think:
“I’m not being consistent.”
“I should be working on something.”
“I’m falling behind.”
But here’s the truth.
Some days I’m tired.
Some days motherhood takes everything.
Some days my brain is overstimulated.
Some days I just need to rest.
Crochet is part of my routine — but it’s not another pressure.
It’s not another box to check.
It’s something I get to return to.
And that mindset shift matters.
Crochet as Mental Health Maintenance
I crochet because I love it.
But I also crochet because it is beneficial to my mental health.
When I am overwhelmed, crochet slows me down.
When I am anxious, crochet gives my hands something steady to do.
When my mind is racing, counting stitches grounds me.
When I feel overstimulated, the repetition calms me.
There’s something incredibly regulating about repetitive motion.
Yarn over.
Pull through.
Insert hook.
Pull up a loop.
Repeat.
Over and over.
It’s predictable.
It’s structured.
It’s controllable.
Motherhood isn’t always predictable.
Life isn’t always controllable.
But crochet? Crochet follows patterns.
Even when I design freely, there is still rhythm.
And rhythm creates calm.
Juggling Mom Life and Making Space for Me
If you’re a mom, you already know.
Kids constantly want something.
Snacks.
Juice.
Help.
Attention.
A hug.
A toy.
Another snack.
It never stops.
And we love them. We do. But we also get tired.
And somewhere in the chaos of being everything for everyone, it’s easy to forget to be something for yourself.
I had to learn this.
I had to learn that doing all the mom things does not mean abandoning myself.
Taking 30 minutes to crochet does not make me selfish.
It makes me regulated.
It makes me calmer.
It makes me more patient.
When I take time to decompress, I show up better.
When I ignore myself for too long, I snap easier.
I get overwhelmed faster.
I feel touched out and drained.
Crochet gives me space to breathe.
And that breathing space makes me a better mom.
The Evolution From 12-Year-Old Me to Now
When I first learned at 12, I didn’t understand crochet the way I do now.
I didn’t understand:
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Tension
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Structure
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Pattern reading
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Why projects weren’t laying flat
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Why stitches looked uneven
I didn’t understand what crochet was building inside me.
Back then, it was just yarn and a hook.
Now, as an adult, crochet is layered.
It’s skill.
It’s patience.
It’s art.
It’s therapy.
It’s discipline.
It’s identity.
It has grown with me.
What started as something I was figuring out has become something I rely on.
It has become a piece of me.
And that growth is powerful.
Crochet Teaches Me Lessons Every Day
Even now, crochet continues to teach me things.
It Teaches Patience
You cannot rush rows.
You cannot skip steps.
You cannot expect perfection without practice.
It Teaches Creativity
You choose the colors.
You choose the texture.
You decide what the yarn becomes.
It Teaches Problem-Solving
Missed a stitch?
Wrong count?
Warping edges?
You figure it out.
It Teaches Me to Slow Down
In a world that pushes productivity and speed, crochet whispers:
“Sit. Breathe. Make something slowly.”
And that whisper is sometimes exactly what I need.
My Routine Isn’t Perfect — But It’s Mine
Some days look like this:
Wake up → Kids → School → Coffee → Crochet for 20 minutes → Chores → Dinner → Crochet on the couch at night.
Some days look like this:
Wake up → Chaos → Errands → Snack requests → Exhaustion → Bed.
Some days look like this:
House empty → Music on → Coffee hot → Hours of uninterrupted stitching.
There is no one “right” routine.
But I make sure crochet is in there somewhere as often as I can.
Because it fills me.
Because it grounds me.
Because it reminds me I am more than just the roles I play.
Why I Will Never Give Crochet Up
Crochet has become a piece of me that I will never give up.
Not because I feel obligated.
But because I’ve seen what it does for me.
It softens my edges.
It steadies my breathing.
It gives me pride.
It gives me peace.
It gives me something that is mine.
And as moms, we need something that is ours.
Something that doesn’t belong to the house.
Something that doesn’t belong to the schedule.
Something that doesn’t belong to anyone else.
Crochet belongs to me.
And that matters.
If You’re a Mom Reading This…
Let this be your reminder:
Do the mom things.
Love your babies.
Run your house.
But also?
Pick up the hook.
Take 20 minutes.
Turn on your favorite music.
Pour the coffee.
Ignore the dishes.
Let the laundry wait.
Create something.
Because when you take time to decompress and breathe, you don’t lose anything.
You gain patience.
You gain clarity.
You gain calm.
You gain yourself back.
That’s why I fit crochet into my daily routine as much as I can.
Not because it’s trendy.
Not because it’s productive.
Not because it’s aesthetic.
But because it makes me better.
Better for my family.
Better for my mind.
Better for my heart.
And honestly?
Sometimes I just want to be wrapped up in something soft that I made with my own two hands.
And that’s reason enough. 🖤
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