Fabric therapy. It works.
As a newlywed I discovered a love for digging through the discount fabric bins and playing with the beautiful combinations of woven plaids, printed florals and subtle solids. In my free moments back then, I would browse the hanging bolts at my favorite store, Calico Corners. I would spend my evenings with my little $99 Singer Special that my husband had given me on our first Christmas and cut and stitch, remove stitches and stitch again until my perfect creation took shape.
At least, it looked perfect to me. In reality it was a uneven, wonky seamed, misaligned patchwork of pathetic. I had no idea how to sew, I didn't know how to read a pattern to save my life, but I proudly mounted those cloth creations above every window in our little townhouse.
I still don't think I really know how to sew, and still can't read a pattern. I have advanced from my little Singer to a complex Bernina - not that it has made any difference in my needle art abilities. But the benefit is just the same - it is still fabric therapy. I still proudly hang my creations above my windows complete with their mismatched seams, uneven hems and I am neither admitting nor denying that there may have been a glue gun or duct tape used to make these draperies. Just don't look too close.
I have been told quite often that I need to "take time for myself." Every special mom laughs at such a suggestion. If we would show you our daily itinerary your jaw would drop. You can only squeeze an orange so tight.
I have been told I should try yoga -- by quite a few people. Perhaps gently hinting that I need to relax? If one more person tells me I need to do yoga I might just take my rolled up yoga mat gathering dust in the corner of my closet and whack them upside the head. How is that for relaxed?
I do admit, however, that I long to be something more than special. This journey is all consuming and I have mentioned in previous posts how I, along with most special moms, crave to feel there is something more inside of us beyond being a caregiver extraordinaire.
So, in the spirit of discovery, I took my love of fabric therapy to the next level. I signed up for a sewing class. Beyond intimidating for me. I deal in long lengths and straight seams - pillows, curtain panels and an occasional headband. You can't really mess up with that kind of stuff. This little "stress reliever" was going to teach patterns, sleeves and buttons, oh my.
The classes took place in an adorable little sewing shop with a funky zen-filled owner. By the end of my class I was anything but stress-relieved, and the owner was even losing some of her zen. I have great powers that way, I guess.
But, to my own amazement and delight, I got through it without pulling my hair out and I sewed A DRESS! For me, this is astounding. Will I ever try it again? Not sure. But until my 3 cute daughters out grow it, I will smile with absolute satisfaction from my newest accomplishment in my pursuit of fabric therapy.
