Tuesday, January 18, 2011

warm fuzzies, two ways

the entire northeast is being blanketed in snow and freezing rain this morning.

it’s cold and wet and miserable outside.

the three oldest googies have a 2 hour delay at school.

but it’s okay, because

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the entire googie clan is being blanketed in warm and fuzzy fleecey jammies.

something i love to do is let each googie pick out a fleece they love at the store. i use it to make giant blanket sleepers for them. cause, let’s be honest here~~even i would wear a blanket sleeper if they came in maternity sizes.

but this fleece has been sitting for…um…quite a while. so we compromised. we’re going with the easier pants and top, which the momma can get done with a lot less thinking.

last night i whipped out the pants.

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for girlfriend girl: owls with a contrast band of orange (from a shirt grabbed out of the thrift pile)

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(and a goofball sister sticking her head in)

for little man: phillies, with rib knit cuffs at the bottom (shocking i know. what can i say? the boy’s a phanatic)
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(aaannndd…a goofball sister sticking her head in)

for tiny tim: turtles, with just a loose hemmed bottom (and rather psychedelic turtles at that)
(which i forgot a picture of…probably because i was so busy telling her to GET OUT OF THE WAY)

little bear didn’t get any. she got her blanket a few weeks ago, and she has about 30 pairs of jammies already. of course she was breaking my heart as every fabric i rolled out to begin cutting she looked at me and said “dis one mine mommy?”

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they took turns sitting by my sewing machine, watching their fabric become pants. whatever they were wearing was immediately discarded in favor of soft and fuzzy fleece the instant they were done.

it was one of those times when i love being a momma.

when i remember why i’m excited for five to arrive.

i wonder if they’ll remember these things when they’re grown.

if it will influence the kind of mothers my girls become and the kind of father my son becomes.

my sewing? not too hard to figure. no deep psychoanalysis needed…my mom wasn’t a sewer. she can, but didn’t really. but i have a memory: i’m not sure how old i was~~less than 7. she got one of those pre-printed fabrics. it was a strawberry shortcake pillow/doll (a redhead! yay!) and made it for me. it was basically a shaped pillow. but i still remember it. i remember loving it. i remember that she made it. i still have it.

it gives me the warm fuzzies.

and i’m pretty sure that’s why i sew for my babies.

even when they act like goobers when i try to take their pictures.
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i love this job.



how about you? what makes you do what you do? why are you the mom that you are today? what memory do you hold from childhood that shapes who you are today?
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