It's not about sewing

When people see or hear about my kids sewing, most think it's pretty great, everyone comments on their creativity and no one says, out right, that it's a waste of time.

L's first dress, designed and sewn herself

They don't point out any obvious flaws and seem genuinely impressed with the finished product. They want to be supportive and encouraging. And, for the most part they are. I love the feedback my kids get and they grow immeasurably in the light that the wonderful people in our lives shine on their hard work. Most of our friends and family, this is what they give, in endless waves, building and encouraging.

 K and her cousin made a playmat for a teacher's first baby

Inevitably, though, there's that one person who, as the kids walk away, or occasionally just before, turns the conversation to the usefulness of such a skill. There is almost always someone who, in essence, says sure it's a neat thing to know how to do, but it's so much more costly to sew your own clothes nowadays. You can buy stuff so cheap and fabric is pricey. Or maybe they imply, there aren't many good jobs in the field of fashion design, seamstresses aren't paid high wages. Oh, but maybe they could work in costume design for movies! In fact, maybe, there have been times when that person was me.

C's first time solo at the machine, a gift for a cousin's birthday

 But, here's the thing...It's not about the sewing. Sure, if my kids choose a job in the fashion, sewing, fabric, or textile fields (of which I am quite sure there are opportunities) they may have a leg up being exposed so young, but maybe not and, really now, they're kids, we're not planning career paths just yet.

B's first sewing project a tree decoration we still use every winter solstice.

No it's not about the sewing. They sew because I sew and it's accessible.

What it's really about is taking that thing in their mind and making it real. It's about seeing an idea, turning it over, looking at it from every angle and figuring out how to share it with the world.

They do this in other ways too. They do it with their drawings, their stories, their Minecraft worlds, the small businesses they start, the skits they perform for us, the movies they write, direct, film and edit, the dances they choreograph for family get togethers, and the video game designs and animations they dabble in.

K designed and sewed herself a medieval costume

So while I'd be proud if any of them chose to pursue a career that put the sewing skills to good use, it's not about the sewing. Instead, lets talk about the research, the trial and error the figuring out when to ask for help and when to plow through. Or about setting deadlines and falling short, all the times it goes wrong . The tears and tantrums and try it agains.

Lets talk about that feeling you get when you add that small detail or find the perfect ribbon that makes all the hard work so worth it because the finished product is even better than you ever could have imagined it would be.

L attaching her first zipper, an invisible zipper. A squeal worthy accomplishment.

Yes, I'd much rather, after we build my kids up, filling their buckets with our beautiful comments, if we could then talk about learning how to learn, learning we are capable, learning we'll mess up and it'll still be fine because that right there, the process, that's what it's really about.

The Pirate Quilt

Ah the pirate quilt. Took me about 9 years from dreaming it up to finished. It's taken me over a year to blog about it. It's like my ultimate procrastination triumph. Never give up! 

I started this quilt with a fair amount of confidence, 3 years sewing experience in my pocket, but not a whole lot of real skill beyond the basics. This quilt was all about pushing my limits. Every piece I dreamed up required techniques I hadn't mastered.

I do this a lot with sewing, rarely using a pattern or changing it drastically when I do, adding details I have no idea how to work with. I think we all need these things in our lives. Something to show us that when we push our skills we grow. Something that maybe we don't have to take too seriously, that gives us the courage to test our limits.

Goodness, this pirate quilt is so loaded for me. There are many different directions I can go with its story. This is my 3rd attempt in a week and if I hadn't given myself this deadline, done today or move on, I'd still be working on it. 

We can talk about the growth in my sewing skills, the late nights after finally putting babies to bed working a little here and there while trying to stay awake long enough to make it through a movie with my husband. 

Or, how much I learned about fabric. When you spend that much time with a piece of fabric, you get to know it intimately. Bottom line, don't skimp on the big projects and PJs are perfect trial runs for anything.

I could tell you how each piece reminds me of the growing boy who waited so patiently for his quilt, piping in with ideas of his own. How while I was working on the palm tree, one of my most favorite, skill stretching pieces, my boy had fallen in love with Franz Ferdinand and would request his song then bop along to the fun beat while I maneuvered each leaf through the machine, sketching with my needle

I could go on about work spaces. The kitchen table set up I had, with a wall plug just a hair too far away, which caused an innocent hop over a stretched out cord to send my machine crashing to the floor bending metal bits in impossible places at impossible angles, and how that led to a basement studio near to the playroom that sounded like a good idea but, out of sight out of mind, my sewing frequency slowed. 

We can share frustrations, the times it was put aside and sat until the guilt of not working on it for ages became unbearable, or a burst of excited inspiration caused it to be picked back up. And how the stories that fill those moments in between, when it was set aside, they are here too. Little reminders in each stitch of all the life happening along the way.

We could talk about how much I learned about learning and how infrequently I applied that knowledge when we first started homeschooling, even though I really wanted to and knew it was the best way, for me and my kids. 

Or, how about the nuts and bolts of it all? How I did the appliques, each piece has it's own method. And the hand quilting I opted for. Having burned through two sewing machines by then, I was left with only my daughter's, too small to handle a twin size quilt, Hello Kitty Janome. which is actually much nicer than either of my other machines ever were. I loved laying the quilt down on the carpeted living room floor, a book under the spot I planned to quilt next, to sketch the swirls in the water, the ropes of the ship, the fish hidden throughout. Then sitting with needle and thread on winter evenings, cozy under it, many times my boy snuggled next to me his patience wearing as the finishing seemed so close. It was already getting regular use even before it was done.

See loaded. I've already rambled on and on and I've just scratched the surface of all I see and feel when I look at this quilt, at these nine years of my life, at the time I've had with my boy who is quickly becoming a young man. (he has assured me he will cherish it forever, will never be too old for its childish appliques and embroidery, and plans to pass it on to his own children one day)

I could go on for days. I haven't started another quilt since finishing this one, but my youngest and I have started planning hers. Actually we started planning long before the pirate quilt was done, and she and her brother still shared a room, and so Mermaids and sea creatures it is. We've started buying the fabric. She's much older than her brother was when I started his quilt, but I'm faster and have learned to dedicate more time to my sewing so I'm confident we'll have it finished up before she's 9...maybe...we can dream. And even if it takes another nine years to finish it, we will have another nine years of learning and growing and memories wrapped up in the finished quilt. I think I can handle that.

Finding Comfort

I actually wrote this a few months ago, while my niece was having her surgery. It felt too real to share at the time, but I want to remember these feeling, this moment in time. I don't want it to be lost in a list of drafted, never published posts, so here it is.

My heart is so tired lately. All the worry, sadness, and truly amazing things happening around me everyday are exhausting.

I am finding some comfort in meditative stitching, working on a quilt that has been in the making for 9 years now, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

And in appreciating how truly blessed I am by spending more time really watching and listening to my kids during the times I have them all to myself.

And in the fun and engaging distractions my Adobe Generation Pro courses give me when I need to quiet my mind.

And, in the kindness and generosity of friends who send meals for my sister's family, while they travel an impossibly rough road.

With Chilly Cheeks and Warm Bellies

I just tucked in my two youngest. Their cheeks chilly, and their bellies warm. The winter storm has caused quite a bit of excitement around here. We're downing hot cocoa and soup like they're going out of style and my entryway is in a constant state of soppy, snowy, mess. I just can't keep up. And, I don't care. I am so in love with right now. I'm not sure what it is, but I'm just going with it. Don't get me wrong, things are far from perfect. I was grumpy a bit today too, but the overall feeling I have of contentment is wonderful. I thought I might sit and write and work something out here, but you know what? I'm just going to take the opportunity to make note of it, to help me remember this feeling, while it's abundant.

Wintery Pics

Is it bad form to post Christmas pics so long after the holiday? Probably, but I love this picture so much. I snapped it in my early morning fog, from my viewing spot on the sofa, just seconds before dragging my sleepy butt back to bed. The kids were up early this year. 4:30 to be exact.

Yeah, so Christmas morning nap, was not optional this year.

We had a wonderful holiday with family and friends, and fun and food. We've totally obliterated any semblance of routine or schedule with endless hours of video games and new books and puzzles and a little bit of fun in the snow when the sun was shining. There is just something about the combination of snow and sunshine that is irresistible.

The Kindle Fires Santa delivered have us all in a trance, my husband and myself included. Why did no one ever tell me about Temple Run? Oh, yeah, because I can become extremely obsessed with those silly, pointless games. (There is a span of a few months, shortly after my husband and I started dating, that is sort of a big Tetris blur for me.) Every morning. This is how I find them every morning.

These early days of the new year always have a hang over feel to them. We've started to loose the holiday buzz, and the lazy days lacking our normal routines are wearing on us. So, as we groggily emerge from our junk food comas, I am trying to nudge us back to normal.

It's difficult, though, because we can't just return to the pre-holiday routine. You never can go back, you know. Just a few short weeks, but already we're all so different. And, with new toys and tools needing our attention and time, a new schedule must be forged.

This was not at all my intended direction for this post. I kinda love when that happens. It's like I'm telling myself, no no no, that's not what's really on your mind. Here let me show you what you've been working through while running that little animated character through the treacherous temple run. Let me clue you in on what happens when you ignore your original inspiration to write, putting off blog post after blog post. Much like those routines you can never really return to those original thoughts.

Which had something to do with challenging myself to take wintery photos every day to help get through this dark and cold season. A little push to get myself outside more often and remind myself of all that I truly love about Michigan winters, because I really do, I love all the snow and the crisp air, I just forget sometimes.

I'll leave you with a quick update on my niece. I know some of you have been wondering and hoping all is well, and it is. As well as we can hope for under the circumstances. Her surgery went better than expected, she recovered quickly and was home for Thanksgiving dinner with the family. Radiation is done, and although it took a toll on her poor little body, she did well. She is back to her chemo schedule, with a break for the holidays and has reached the halfway point. She spends as much time as she can playing in the snow and enjoying every minute of those good days, surrounded by the people who love her.

Hoping your holidays were filled with good food, loving family and fun. And, may the new year live up to your every wish.

Loving

This is a post I had almost ready to publish when my niece got sick. I found it today and it made me smile and think of the fun summer days that feel like so long ago already, so I thought I'd share it. Today there is so much more that I am in love with and thankful for. I don't think I have the stamina to post them just now. This week my niece has her big surgery. They will remove the tumor and her kidney and will clean out a major artery. There is a lot of prepping for cousins who will be staying here, and plenty of other, normal life things happening too, but I find myself pausing frequently throughout the days to worry, and to think, and most of all, to take stock and appreciate all that I have. 

• The Black Eyed Susan's and Daisies popping up between our yard and the pond. 
• The boy teaching his little sister how to pitch so he has someone to play baseball with now that the little league season has ended.
• My youngest daughter's firm belief that some day soon she will be able to fly because she wished in a wishing well. And, her daily attempts to determine if today is the day.
• Celery in my garden! It's stupid how happy this makes me. (It's also kind of stupid that I didn't realize that's what it was until yesterday.)
• The way my kids pulled together and amused and impressed me with their problem solving skills to retrieving a runaway balsa glider when they were told that, "no they could not climb out the bedroom window onto the roof." (See above) I didn't snap a picture in time but, it involved a broom, a pool noodle, 3 kids strategically placed for optimal viewing of said glider shouting directions, and 1 precariously perched on the porch railing.

My Kryptonite

I think some sort of transformation happened to me when I became a mom. I now have these crazy superpowers that give me the otherworldly strength to remain calm and not panic when I see blood gushing from my four year old's finger while her big sister sobs that she just cut off her baby sisters digit with a shovel (was only a fingernail whew).



I can leap tall chairs in a single bound to scoop up a choking toddler and administer the baby Heimlich faster than a speeding bullet.

I have even been known to fly down a flight of stairs to rescue a fallen child, (though I did not emerge unscathed from that adventure, of course, the kid was fine).



I have determined that about 90% of my parental supervision is done with my supersonic hearing, Which enables me to get to the root of almost any conflict between siblings (it's usually hunger), to distinguish real cries of pain, terror and distress from the not so critical and, to sense when and where major mischief is happening.



I have even been known to use x-ray vision to detect when a certain preschooler had skipped the underwear when dressing. Seriously? That sounds so uncomfortable to me, but apparently one out of four preschoolers hates to wear underwear.



These super powers have served me well in my role as mother but they came at a price. It appears, that for me anyway, the birth of supermom meant saying good-bye to the tough tomboy who picked up snakes, caught frogs and would attempt any trick on bike, board or swing that her big brother deemed too dangerous after first attempting himself.



I may be able to stand in the face of danger to protect my kid, I can keep my cool in the most frighting of scary mommy moments but, A pet chicken sneaking up behind me and pecking at my shoe? A mouse scurrying across the lawn?



Finding a garter snake staring at me from a shelf in my shed after I'd already stuck my head inside looking for a trowel!? Forget it. I'm ashamed to admit it, but my 10 year old self would have been embarrassed of my reaction, and supermom is pretty disappointed too.



My garden this week, dedicated to all the supermoms, and anyone who screams and flails and calls her 8 year old son and 10 year old daughter to come rescue her at the mere sight of a garter snake.

1. The main garden.
2. Cucumbers growing outside the fence of the main garden. There is no way we will have enough.
3. Bush beans are looking good.
4. I decided to try planting some heirloom pumpkins. I hope I gave them enough time.
5. Hops flower buds? I'm not sure. I've never seen them bud before. :)
6. The cabbage butterfly has decimated the brassica plants once more. I'm spending the rest of the summer planting flowers that will attract ladybugs and wasps to help me combat these evil little caterpillars.
7. A little surprise from the compost.

My friend, who scared me last week, startled my daughter today, he had trapped himself in some netting in my shed.



My chicken loving, farmer wannabe, daughter was able to keep her cool and set the poor fella free. Creepy or not, we couldn't let him suffer.

Loving

• How contagious his love for the game is and, that now, she's in love too.
• That he decided to "coach" her when we showed up and realized practice had been canceled.
• The way she lights up when her big brother plays catch with her, teaches her what he's learned and treats her like a big kid who can play the game alongside him.
• And, the way he lights up when his little sister wants to play ball with him.

A Weakness for Popcorn

I've slacked on getting dinner started again, it's getting late, moods are deteriorating and my patience is dwindling fast. Frantically I'm looking for the HUGE 12.5lb tub of popcorn, calling to the kids to see who saw it last, wondering how on earth I could have misplaced such a ginormous thing. When, out of my bedroom walks my son, an apologetic smile on his face, trying to contain a giggle, carrying the very tub of popcorn I am searching for. I stare confused and ask why the popcorn was in my room, how did he know it was in there, who put it in there. I Repeat my questions assuming his little sister had decided she needed it for some game of make believe. Then, I ask him if he put the popcorn in my bedroom. He answers quietly, still working to contain the giggle while trying to sound sorry, "yes. I hid it because I was mad at you."

Hiding the popcorn from me!? Has it come to this?  

A few minutes later I'm happily shoveling handfuls of freshly popped deliciousness into my mouth, good moods and patience restored, and thinking about how well this boy of mine knows me and, how glad I am that, because of this silly trick he pulled, we were able to laugh about our earlier disagreement.

We are enjoying all the popcorn love on the internet these days. Tonight we finally tried Amanda's January popcorn and are looking forward to trying more recipes in her year of popcorn.

Not in a Million Years

This morning I woke and did the, now routine, emptying of the dishwasher while brewing my tea. Right now, I like drinking it on the front porch with a view of the garden, the kid's sand pit and the chicken coop.

It's important, that first cup of tea. It deserves my full attention and I sometimes have to force myself to just relax and enjoy it. It's taken years for me to be okay with the fact that I am not an early or quick riser and, that it's okay to take that extra 10, 15 or 20 minutes every morning to let myself fully wake and prepare for the day. And, today was going to be a day I knew, I'd need that slow start.

So, I sat enjoying my tea, ignoring the nagging voices telling me to water the garden, wake the kids and just start our busy day already.

As I drank my last sip and contemplated taking a few extra minutes to just stay there and soak in the fresh morning air, the chicks decided to pay me a visit. You see, they have figured out that there is an unfenced, poorly tended, little garden growing along the walk leading up to the front porch and, that those tiny pea plants, small tufts of lettuce and ripening strawberries, are quite delicious.

Now, I'm really okay sharing a bit of the harvest with our sweet new pets but, after spending an afternoon with a grumbling 9 year old scrubbing the front porch, because it was covered in chicken poo yesterday afternoon, I was not about to let them anywhere near that sidewalk or my front stoop.

I tried shooing them away with my hands but, they seemed to think I had some yummy offering from the kitchen, I tried scootching them with my foot but, they thought my shoe looked quite interesting and tried inspecting it, I tried shouting at them, they looked at me with blank stares of confusion so, I did the only other thing I could think of. . .

I grabbed the broom left behind from the previous days cleaning and brushed those birdies away like some crazy lady from an old western film. And then, I started laughing (making me look all the more crazy) as I realized that never, not ever, not in a million bajillion years would I ever have thought I would be shooing chickens off my front porch with a broom!

If you had told me just a few short years ago that I would someday be scrubbing chicken poo from my front stoop, or desperately trying to keep a few strawberries, peas and lettuce leaves from those great grandchildren of T-rex, I would have laughed in your face.

To be honest, they kinda give me the heeby jeebies, with those beaks and emerging wattles and claw like feet and, I shriek like a school teacher who has suddenly found a toad in her pocket, when they start flapping those wings.

This chicken thing, it's not my thing.

And that, is the coolest part.

I never thought that by encouraging them to explore their interests now, these kids of mine, would strew my path and make my life so much richer. Because really, not in a million years would I have brought home a box full of chicks, or spent hours watching and learning the finer details and strategies of baseball, or learned to grind stone into shiny jewelry, or read Skippyjon Jones enough times to perfect my Spanish accent (okay, maybe perfect is too strong of a word)

And, I can't help but wonder what other, not in a million years moments, these awesome littles have in store for me.