I'm A Teacher

After years of denying my desire to those who assumed I would be a teacher when I grew up it finally happened. I'm going to be teaching in an official capacity! The less cynical part of my brain is delighting at the opportunity to impart my knowledge on to the next generation... This is the moment where I smack myself across the head and insert a few choice swear words. What the Hell? How in the ever loving Universe did I get in to this glorious mess? Notice I said glorious.
My only assumption is that someone in the Universe still loves me because instead of teaching spit ball throwing, booger picking toddlers who would most likely help me to contract some virulent infection I'm teaching adults who want to further there education when it comes to the needle arts. I am now the teacher of a beginner crochet class for blind and visually impaired adults through the Krafters Korner of the National Federation of the Blind.
While on one hand this thrills me to the point of doing my happy dance; on the other side of it I'm terrified. I remember when I first learned to crochet from my college roomie Manda. While she showed me first by letting me follow her through the motions and then by letting me see the stitches on actual projects I won't get that option. These classes are taught entirely over the phone. Again I say Goddess help me to be a good teacher. Help my students so that when the simple single crochet potholder is finished it won't look like Swiss cheese with a few extra holes for decoration. I hate single crochet with a passion its the most tedious crochet stitch in terms of making me feel like I didn't get anywhere on a project. I'm putting off crocheting the sample for the class until the night before. Even then dark chocolate, Xena and a good bottle of wine may be in order. I wonder if friends let friends crochet drunk?