Mommy's Toy

When I was 11 my mom turned her sewing machine over to me and said "knock your self out." I was like an artist in a room of blank canvas. Only I can't paint and I hate sewing canvas. Still, I started sewing and never looked back. I made countless doll cloths, prom dresses even my own wedding dress. All with this little Viking Husqvarna my mom bought a year before I was born. It was a rock. I think I only had it tuned up once in the many years I used it.

Well, a few years ago, I decided it was time to upgrade. After all, we are in the computer age. Somehow, I convinced my DH that the computerized embroidery machine sitting in the Viking showroom was calling my name. I still have my mom's Husqvarna and, at 37 years old, it still sews a strong seam. I am so emotionally attached to it that it will remain with me as long as I am able to keep it. This new machine is -- well, WONDERFUL. It has all the quality and strength of my other Husqvarna... only it does really cool things ( like threading it's own needle). I have also gotten attached to this machine and it holds a place of honor in my sewing room.

For some morbid reason, I have been wanting to take up quilting (like I have the time). So,
I decided I to make one as a trial one to see if I like it. Don't ask me why. But I have begun. Actually, I only cut up a few pieces and laid them out to see if I liked the colors. I had them next to my sewing machine laid out carefully and deliberately.

One of my boys ventures into my little room to chat. This is fine. I always have my door open -- usually, though, I try to have stuff put away. But, because I was testing the colors of this silly quilt, it was all over my table. It only took a couple reaches and a bump for my son to undo what I had spent so much time on... Ok, deep breath. No big deal. I wasn't sure I liked that color pattern anyway.

Only moments later, another boy comes in. As he is telling me about his day, he begins to do gymnastics on my sewing table -- seriously. Well, I had just set a full cup of ice water down by my machine (what dummy does that?) and the WHOLE glass spilled out onto the table and -- you guessed it -- over to my sewing machine. The water travels under my machine and, hold your breath, straight into what's left of my quilt layout. We are talking about 2 cups of water here.

With speed that I only have when my children are seriously injured, I grabbed my machine, ripped off its cover and, while shouting for a towel, held it so the water would run off. At this point, I couldn't be concerned about the quilt. My son quickly grabbed a towel and we were able to wipe up the water. After further examination, I realized the water, thanks to my snake like reflexes, barely got the bottom wet. We tested it and it seemed to work fine, with the exception of a fine line that runs through the display (maybe that has always been there). The quilt will dry, but who knows if I will remember any of those patterns I laid out.

During the whole thing, my mind drifted to stories I have heard of mom's hugging their children when stuff like this happens, and I thought "I am not that mom!" After I calmed down, I realized how incredibly tense I had gotten. Over a sewing machine. That I had set the water by. My son has been doing flips since he was in my womb and I should know better to know he wasn't going to stop just because mommy's toy was in the way.

Just because I put "honey" at the end of a phrase doesn't make shouting it any less ugly. "DON'T EVER DO THAT AGAIN! Honey!" "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU NOT TO DO FLIPS ON THE FURNITURE?!!?Honey? You get the idea.

So, tonight ended with an apology to my sweet little monkey and a big hug. I should never let material things get the best of me, but they did tonight.