crumbs, family, sewing

31 weeks . . . and tired of counting

Jack and Tie-Dye, from my point of view.

Nine weeks to go (or less? or more?) until we meet Tie-Dye. It’s never been truer for me–the waiting is the hardest part.

On the creative front, I attempted to sew a new quilt block this week. Tried. But these days, making quilts feels like tackling the preparation of a seven-course meal. The fridge, the stove, the oven, the microwave, the cutting board–aaah, wait! The drinks, the dishes! Too many steps. The rotary cutter, the iron, the sewing machine, the broken thread, the empty bobbin, the color choices–aaah, wait! The getting up and moving from one workstation to another! Too much. Too many steps for my worn-out body and my molten-muddy mind.

Mostly, it’s the moving. I no longer wish to move. After now-countless moments of embarrassing myself with unrestrained grunts and groans each time I rise from the couch, I told my husband to duct tape a beach ball to his front and seven yardsticks to his back, vertically from neck to butt. "Now," I dared (in my bizarre verbal fantasy), "Sit down and stand up. Ha! That would be hard, wouldn’t it?"

Brett calmly came back with something like, "Yes, honey, that would be hard. I can’t imagine." And what else–aside from rushing out to buy beach balls and yardsticks–could he come back with?

If I put all the crankiness and oh-poor-me venting aside, I am left with a feeling of general restlessness. I need something to DO. Usually, I would quilt. That’s not working for me right now. So I borrowed a keeping-hands-busy idea from a woman who writes one of my favorite blogs, Soulemama. Check out the link and you’ll see where I’m going:

Jack’s latest art. Yes, you guessed it–they are superheroes.

The Soulemama link above leads to a simple embroidery-project idea that seems oh-so satisfying to me. Transfer Jack’s drawings to fabric and start stitching. I told Jack about the idea. He’s in. He wants me to sew pockets with his embroidered drawings onto his "feety jammies." Done. Jack gets a homegrown superhero on his teddy-bear laden pj’s, and I get to sit. And sit some more. Fulfill my ache to create on a small scale. And sit some more.

Oh, sweet couch. How do I love thee?
Let me count the ways.
I shall revel in you (well,
on you) each and every day
Until little Tie-Dye’s upcoming birthday.

2 thoughts on “31 weeks . . . and tired of counting”

  1. What a great first photo of the brothers! That was fun!
    Willa and I will come this week, maybe Tuesday to help alleviate some of your restlessness. You can check out her third tooth.


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