View Full Album

I realized something Tuesday night when I was looking at two stacks of fabric and two uncut patterns.  I.do.not.like.to.sew!  I don’t like when the *!*#*! pins stick into my too-sensitive fingers.  I really don’t like the goofy tissue paper patterns that tear just by looking at them (or when Abigail gets them and cuts them up…ahem…).  I don’t like when my machine decides to mess up on the tension.  I don’t like winding bobbins and I certainly don’t like pressing seams.  I’d almost rather go to the dentist than iron so the idea of pressing seam after seam after seam on a sewing project does absolutely nothing for me.  Honestly, there is very little I like about the actual sewing process.

(Note:  I love buying fabric and patterns, as my stacks and stacks of fabric and patterns will attest, so I obviously have no trouble with THAT part of sewing)

On Wednesday afternoon, while I was putting the final touches on Abigail’s perfectly orange butterfly Halloween costume, I had an epiphany.  Sewing is a lot like exercise for me.  I don’t enjoy it while I’m doing it and I certainly don’t enjoy going to bed late or getting up early to do it,  but I absolutely love the results afterwards.  And, while a good long walk, even if I do it begrudgingly, is good for my body and my mind, sewing something for my girls (or on the rare occasion, me) is good for my spirit.  Because there are few things that give me as much satisfaction as having my daughter run into the house and spy the costume I made for her and shriek, “Mama!  It’s the most beautiful thing ever!  I love you!”  Seeing her spin and twirl in the one-of-a-kind costume made with the fabric she herself picked out (can you believe I tried to talk her out of that fabric?  She was adamant that it would be beautiful.  Next time, I’ll know not to argue with her!)  makes me smile deep down in my soul.  And that’s what sends me back to my sewing machine time and time again.