I am no Martha Stewart. I have no ambitions to sew, bake, craft, and clean for my family. I really don’t. I may want to do some of those things for myself from time to time. But not a lot.
Let me put it another way: I am a big fan of store-bought Halloween costumes. I feel no guilt in shoving my kids in some plasticy crap that the rest of the neighborhood is wearing. If they like it and they’re happy, great. Fine with me.
But this year I got my Mommy ass kicked. 8 wanted to be a king. 6 wanted to be a wizard. We looked at the Halloween shops and online and NOTHING could be found. All the stuff out there was worse than crap. And they were sad and disappointed. And this led to, “All I wanted was a cape with fur on it.” “A beard and a wizard cloak with stars.” That’s all.
Fine. I’ll make it. I know how to buy fabric and turn on my sewing machine. So I should be able to do this, right?
Ha. Ha. Ha.
This has been the thorn in my side for the past two weeks. I put it off and put it off and put it off. I have no idea how to make sleeves. I have no pattern. I am just winging it. And cursing a lot.
Well, not much was accomplished other than a few snips and some foul words. And then Wednesday morning, I got the sad call that my grandmother passed away. And so, knowing that I would be headed south for a few days, I started sewing at 3 AM and worked on it for 3 hours before I showered and packed and left town.
I didn’t get either of them anywhere close to being finished. And with everything going on this week, I kept remembering the costumes and crying. Because I was going to swallow a heaping helping of Mommy Guilt when my kids were told to “Go and pick out something from the dress-up pile” three minutes before trick-or-treating.
But it didn’t happen. I got my butt back home today, two hours before dinner, and sewed like a maniac. And ripped out a few seams. And sewed like a crazy fool. And screamed and yelled at Husband. And sewed like a….well…you get the idea.
Anyway, I got something done. It was finished. Nothing great or grand or brag-worthy. But the kids were happy. Husband was glad I wasn’t throwing stuff at him anymore. And I was JUMPING for joy to be done.
The kids looked pretty cute, I think. And I feel like a huge burden is gone from my shoulders.
And I will NEVER NEVER agree to sew another costume again.