Ironing Out My Thoughts

It was really ridiculous the size of my laundry pile. Actually, not so much the size of the pile, as the contents. Some things were pre-pregnancy. Think 6 months ago. I knew it was time to make a dent, the kind of ironing dent that draws hangers from every corner of the house to hold the still warm items.  

These are some of the items found and freshly pressed.

People frequently ask me how I find the time to sew. I usually say I am a master of time management. No. Hehe. I don't say that because it certainly isn't true. I usually talk about how sewing is a passion, one portion of my need to create. The need to create, however, runs through the veins of every soul on the earth, I believe. And creations don't have to be tangible. Ryan is a master at creating the feeling of being interesting and worth talking about in others. Olive creates empathy in her whole body, which is clearly manifest when you look at her face, from pain to pure, absolute joy. These are gifts that we choose to bury or feed.

But, the need to create, that's just part of why I sew, I decided last night as the steam was doing it's magic on all these natural fibers. I think it would be so fulfilling to have my own line of children's clothes. I've toyed with the idea, but simultaneously wondered if that would squelch the fun. Still debating on that, but I do know that creating these pieces my daughters wear is about more than just about clothing them in something I think looks beautiful.

As I was ironing, I recalled working on each project, from picking out the fabric to sewing on the buttons.  Then I conjured up the photo shoots for each one, some filled with frustration at uncooperative offspring, but mostly the awe-someness of capturing personalities at a specific age.

As I ironed the little pockets flat, I pictured the sweaty, chubby hands that fill them, one sister and now the next, wondering if this wiggly one I carry inside will be clad in these dresses and frills or we will be treated to raise a boy.  A boy?! The thought just makes my heart pound! I pictured dressing them and fastening the buttons, watching them run off to do something so important it required them to actually hurry.

I made Olive a swimsuit on Wednesday [a tutorial to come tomorrow!] as she left hers at Gammy's. She received glowing compliments from fellow swimmer moms and the first thing she said was, "my mommy made it!" I have dithered whether or not to continue this blog on more than one occasion. It's nice to share a passion with others, and certainly to hear kind words from people who stop by to say hello here, but when my girls are proud of their momma and feel loved through something I make for them, it makes all the finger pricks, ripped seams, and broken needles worth it. More importantly, it satiates that need to create at a deeper level than displaying a finished frock.