aka The Frazzled Mom
When I was younger, I made attempts. Why? Because my mother is a lifelong seamstress. She taught me what she knew, which was a lot. But I just didn’t enjoy it.
So imagine one late night, I’d rather be in bed, but have to stay up. I’d entered an apron into the local county fair and, as my parents so strongly have instilled in me, followed through on that promise. That isn’t to say that the desire to make good on my promise was inherent. On the contrary, I would have been happy to give up and go to sleep. But my mom pushed me to finish the project.
Not only did she have me finish the apron, but there were pockets, TWO pockets in it. Sure, that might not seem like a big deal, except that she was a perfectionist that insisted the pattern on the apron needed to match up to the pattern on the pockets. It took sooooooooooooooooooooo long.
Have I mentioned I hate sewing?
She took a picture of me, lying on the floor, the apron seemingly choking the life out of me. Yeah, dramatic. And no, I will not post that picture!
I can’t imagine what my mom thought that night. I know she was amused by my whining, my drama, my tears for sleep that before would have been tears going to bed. But I am glad that she pushed me to finish it. It taught me to not only complete the projects I start, but to follow through when I give my word and do it to the best of my ability.
Oh, and if you grew up with a mom that loved to sew, no doubt you’ve experienced the cookie tin of disappointment.