Staying with Grace

I've been trying to write a blog post for over a week now, but the words keep escaping me. What can I say to you, friends, that you're not already experiencing yourselves? Yes, it's hard to stay home all the time. No, nothing much has changed in the past few weeks. Yes, some days are harder than others. No, I'm not handling everything well either.

Sometimes I think we're doing great. We already homeschool, so that was something stable in our little world. I'm grateful that we can stay in touch with friends and family through technology, and I'm so thankful that we can still get together with our church family on Sunday mornings online. Having James here with us, teaching from home, has been an absolute joy. He brings encouragement to all of us every day -- playing board games with the girls, giving my parents a hand when they need it, and always there to listen to me and make me laugh.

Other days I can feel myself coming apart a little bit. I give in to tears or make frequent visits to the bowl of cookie dough in the refrigerator when I'm frustrated or discouraged. I stay up too late at night and struggle to get out of bed in the morning. I had a near panic attack sitting in my car at the Walgreen's drive-thru last Monday as I watched the clerk bag up my dad's medication and place my change into an envelope, suddenly wondering if both were covered with the virus. James and I are the only ones who run errands right now so that my parents can stay safe, both of them being in the high risk group due to their age and health issues. I've had nights when I couldn't sleep for worrying over whether we're doing enough.

And then this passage from Present Over Perfect by Shauna Niequist spoke to me last weekend:

"It's easy to be liked by strangers. It's very hard to be loved and connected to the people in your home when you're always bringing them your most exhausted self and resenting the fact that the scraps you're giving them aren't cutting it....It seems to me that one of the great hazards is quick love, which is actually charm. We get used to smiling, hugging, bantering, practicing good eye contact. And it's easier than true, slow, awkward, painful connection with someone who sees all the worst parts of you. Your act is easy. Being with you, deeply with, is difficult. It is better to be loved than admired. It is better to be truly known and seen and taken care of by a small tribe than adored by strangers who think they know you in a meaningful way. We know that's true. But many of us, functionally, have gotten that math wrong in one season or another....Quick charm will always be easier for me than deep connection. People out there are easier than the ones in here. But quick charm is like sugar -- it rots us. It winds us up and leaves us jonesing, but it doesn't feed us. Only love feeds us. And love happens over years, repetitive motions, staying, staying, staying. Showing up again. Coming clean again, being seen again. That's how love is built....It's all in here, not out there."

I've wondered if one reason why this temporary life change is so difficult is because all the coping mechanisms that we've used for so long are being stripped away. When you're confined to your house with your family for days on end, there's no room for quick charm. Even worse, your quirks and irritations and insecurities have nowhere to hide. You have to deal with them and so do the people you love. And though right now we have no choice except to stay where we are, there's a big difference between staying resentfully and staying with grace. I can be a very generous, patient person on social media . . . over the phone . . . when I'm all by myself. It's harder to be any of that when the dogs are barking incessantly and the sink is full of dirty dishes and the girls are fighting with me and each other. My family needs my love, and the truth is that sometimes I feel so worn out that it seems like I can't even muster the will to try. But I have to keep trying, even when the best I can say is, "I'm cranky and tired and not happy with you right now, but I'm going to love you anyway because you're mine." I've told my girls so many times that love isn't a feeling; it's what we choose to do. I'm learning that lesson over and over again these days.

But like I said, there are good things happening at our house too. So let's talk about some of them...

1. Quarantine is delicious. I've been cooking so much more and making a greater variety of food. We've also been eating more meals together as a family which is wonderful. Preparing food for seven people each day can quickly become an endless job, so I've started making a large meal at lunch which can then be stretched for leftovers at dinner. Mom makes a loaf of her famous oatmeal bread in our bread machine almost every day, and we use any stale slices that don't get eaten to make croutons for salad. A big pot of soup or stew can last us for two days or more, and every now and then I'll make extra pans of pasta bake or enchiladas that can go in the freezer to be pulled out on a day when I'm too tired or busy to cook. All in all, I think we're wasting less food and making better use of our groceries than we have in ages, and that feels pretty great.

2. Time stuck at home is the perfect chance to tackle all the jobs that we've been putting off because we didn't have the time. James has been working on replacing old sink drains in the upstairs bathrooms. I'm deep cleaning our closet for the first time since we moved in five years ago and slowly getting my sewing space reorganized. It feels fantastic to get some of these jobs finished after they've been on my to-do list for so long. On the other hand, though, I'm not freaking out over dog hair on the floor and a cluttered pantry stuffed full of food and paper products right now because nobody's going to see it but us. So it's good to walk that balance between taking on some long overdue organizational projects while not going crazy over the day-to-day stuff.

3. Being together as a family is the best. For a few days the pool was (just barely) warm enough to go swimming, so we made the most of it. James has been taking the girls outside after lunch or in the afternoon to play basketball, soccer, foursquare, or just walk laps around the front circle. Sometimes we go for walks as a family, and sometimes my husband and I go out for a "date walk" while my parents stay home with the girls. Almost every night we watch a show or movie together. Since my eighth grader is studying World War II, we've been introducing the girls to some old movies from the time period that are favorites of ours. The girls have enjoyed To Be or Not to Be and Casablanca, and we had some great discussions about both films. I've also been reading The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder aloud to the family while the girls take turns practicing hairstyles on me in the evenings before bed. It's been interesting to talk about the Ingalls family's isolation brought on by blizzards versus our quarantine due to the virus. We all agree that we definitely have it better than they did.

4. Quiet time is good for the soul. I find that I make it through the day much better when I start and end with some simple encouragement. So before I face the news on my laptop in the morning, I read my Bible for a few minutes as I drink my coffee. And each night before I head to bed, I spend some time at my desk writing my thoughts down in a journal and reading a short devotion from Each New Day by Corrie ten Boom, a woman of deep faith whose writings have meant so much to me over the years (read her book The Hiding Place if you haven't already -- it's unforgettable). These small, quiet moments have been anchors for my soul. Some days they're the only thing keeping me from flying all to pieces, and they're habits I want to keep even after this crazy time is over.

5. Sewing still makes me happy. The days are busier than I would have expected, but I still try to sneak off to my sewing machine when I can. Making pretty little things just because I want to is such a wonderful way to spend an hour, and it always lifts my spirits.

I'm thinking of you often, friends. You're always in my prayers. Be safe and well, and know that you're loved.

Why I'm Retiring from Professional Sewing

Oh, my friends, this is a hard one . . . a long one. And I'll need you to be patient with me, because even as I'm typing this sentence, I'm struggling to find the words and to keep the tears from falling. But there's a happy ending to this story, I promise. So let's begin at the beginning . . .

In the fall of 2011, I was an exhausted stay-at-home mother of three little girls under the age of five. My days were long, full of dishes and laundry and mindless cartoons, swinging wildly between frantic activity and tedious boredom. I loved the time I was investing in my daughters, but it was a challenge that left me burned out and stale by the end of each week. It quickly became obvious that I needed some time to play.

And so I tried quilting. 

It wasn’t until I started sewing that I realized how desperate I had been for creative playtime. It energized me, gave me a break from the craziness to breathe and think and make again. I look back on those early days now and smile. 

My new hobby started a chain reaction that I honestly never expected when I first picked it up. It would be easy to say that everything just happened all at once, that it was completely beyond my control, but I know that's not really true. A combination of factors caused things to take off in a big way over that first year -- my love for sewing, my need for community and acceptance, my sometimes compulsive personality that leads me to chase new pursuits with a passion that borders on obsession, and just being in the right place at the right time. And like so many things in life, it was both wonderful and difficult together.

My quilting led me to blogging which then led me to social media. Over time, I sewed samples for fabric companies and publishers, hosted blog tours and sew alongs, and eventually wrote my first book, Sew Organized for the Busy Girl for C&T Publishing. This led to more sample sewing, more blog tours, pattern writing for magazines, and invitations to teach and share my projects. I got the opportunity of a lifetime when Riley Blake Designs gave me a contract to design fabric for them, and I threw myself into the work with a fervor, spending countless hours at my computer sketching ideas for fabric collections. When Lucky Spool gave me the chance to write a second book, Patchwork USA, I was overjoyed, pulling together years of patterns and stories to create what was definitely my favorite project yet. I couldn't have been more thrilled when it was finally published last July.

On the flip side, balancing my creative pursuits along with homeschooling my daughters, keeping house, and staying involved in family and church activities was getting more difficult by the day. "I don't know how you do it all!" people would say, and I felt desperate to maintain that image of being both capable and creative, a busy person with important things to do. But there was no denying that the hobby I adored had become all consuming work, and I was struggling to hold it all together. My own perfectionism and the constant pressure to keep producing as much as I could had sent my to-do list spinning out of control. 

My family was getting the short end of the stick in so many ways. I shudder now to think of how many times my girls asked me to play with them, only to hear, “Not now . . . Mommy has to finish this first.”  And of course, whenever I finished that thing, there was the next thing. So many afternoons and evenings my wonderfully supportive husband took the girls outside to ride bicycles or swim or play in the front yard so that I could meet upcoming deadlines on time. And I would sit upstairs glued to my computer screen or my sewing machine, every now and then glancing outside the window to see them all having fun together down below, feeling an ache in my heart because I was missing out on moments that I knew I could never get back. Even when I was with them, I wasn't always really there emotionally. I remember taking the girls out for a mommy-daughter lunch one day. We placed our order, sat down in a booth, and I automatically pulled my cell phone out of my pocket to check emails. My oldest daughter reached out her hand and gently placed it over the screen. "Stay in the moment, Mommy," she said quietly, with a meaningful look that cut me to the heart.

It was almost two years ago that I started having unexplained health problems leading to doctor visits, with every one ending in the same diagnosis: “It’s stress. You’re doing too much. You’ve got to slow down.” With each warning, I promised the doctors and my worried family that I would handle it this time, really. Yet every time I tried to scale back my commitments, they slowly crept back in . . . and so did the ongoing stress and fatigue. I wanted to have it all, but I didn't know how to manage it all. Eight years ago, the solution to my stress was sewing. Now sewing seemed to be the problem.

But I didn’t want to stop sewing. I just wanted to find a way to make it fun again. How could I return to the place where I began, those early days spent happily stitching away at my dining room table while my toddlers played nearby? Could I rediscover the hobby that I loved so much? Was there a way to balance creativity and everything else in my life? I knew that something had to change, but I didn't know how.

And then last week I was hit hard by a sudden serious infection with which my burned out immune system seemed completely unable to cope. The fact that it wasn't life threatening didn't make it any less frightening, but it was, at last, the wake-up call I had been needing. There's something about lying on your bed in a state of pain, helplessness, and total exhaustion that has a way of clearing the mind. I finally came to grips with the fact that my health and my family had to come first -- truly first -- and that the only way to do it was to make a clean break with the work that was throwing my priorities out of order. There were still tears and discussions with family and plenty of emails to write, but for the first time in ages, I felt a peace that had been lacking in my heart for too long. I had the power to make a choice, and this was the one I wanted to make.

So what does this mean going forward? It means that at the end of February, after I finish two more blog tour commitments which I want to honor, I will be retiring from professional sewing. It means that I will no longer be doing blog tours for sewing books or fabric collections, and that all my teaching will be at home with my three precious girls. It means that I won't be writing any more patterns for magazines or subscription boxes. And it means letting go of a third book which I've been working on for the last nine months. I can't even begin to express to you how hard it is for me to walk away from these things, but I know without a doubt that it's what I need to do.

Yet the truth is that, in spite of my sadness and regret, I feel so incredibly blessed! I've gotten to have a fantastic side career for all these years, work with all kinds of unbelievably talented people, learn a host of new skills, and meet so many dear friends from all over the world in the process. It's been one of the most amazing experiences of my entire life, and I'm deeply grateful for it.

And just because I won't be working professionally anymore does NOT mean that I won't be sewing and blogging and dropping in on social media. Things will be a little different, of course. There will be more works in progress, I think, and more slow sewing, and sometimes just me talking about what's going on in this new life experiment I'm beginning. In the weeks ahead, I'll show you some of the projects I've been working on in secret over the past year for that third book I'd been planning (like the sneaky peek at the top of this post!), and it will be so much fun to finally share them with you.

Honestly, I'm still coming to terms with this change in my life, still figuring out what it's going to look like. It reminds me of when we moved to Texas five years ago and let our dogs Emma and Fritz out into our huge backyard for the first time. After growing up playing on the small patch of grass in our suburban California backyard surrounded by a cinder block wall, they had no idea how to handle the massive stretch of lawn behind our new home on almost two acres of land. That first evening, they stepped cautiously through the gate, sniffing as they went, and slowly they started to walk and then run between the trees with their tongues hanging out their mouths as if they were laughing. It was all good until Emma suddenly spotted the neighbor's dog through the metal fence posts. Having no experience with a see-through fence, she thought she could run through it, headed straight for the unfamiliar dog at breakneck speed, and slammed right into the metal bars. I thought she had killed herself for a minute, but she got up and shook her head in a daze while James went to go bend the bars back into place. I have a feeling that this new life may be something like that for me. At times I'm going to be unsure of myself and go slowly, some days I'm going to be giddy with freedom, and once in a while I'm going to crash and have to shake it off while I figure out what my new boundaries are going to be.

But for now I'm going to rest and heal, read more books, sit outside with my girls while they show me how well they can ride their bikes, have coffee with James without talking endlessly about my to-do list, and enjoy the fun of starting a new sewing project without having to write down any measurements while I do it. I suppose that sewing, like anything else in life, can pull you to pieces if you turn it into something it was never meant to be: a compulsive assembly line, a popularity contest, the measure of your worth. It's time for me to slow down and appreciate this hobby for what it is, to remember why I loved it in the first place, this chance to make something beautiful with my own two hands.

I'm finding my way back to joy, friends, and it feels a lot like going home.

Coffee with James

As much as I can't wait to go on vacation when the holidays roll around, I'm just as content to get back to the school routine once they're over. I like the stability of a schedule, the sanity that it brings to the kids and to me. The only sad part is not having my husband here with us. There's not a doubt in my mind that the biggest perk of being married to a teacher is getting to have him home for weekends, holidays, and vacations. It's given us the chance to do so many things together as a family, and I never take it for granted.

We were driving home from lunch early last week in my minivan, music playing on the radio while the girls chattered together in the backseat, when James turned and asked if I would join him for coffee and sweets when we got home. It was the start of a beautiful new habit which we hope to continue on the weekends. Every afternoon for the rest of the week we sat down at the dining room table with mugs of coffee and something sweet -- usually chocolate -- and talked about what was on our minds: goals for the new year, lesson planning, my next book, the girls, our own struggles and how to beat them. It was like dating again only better: all the interest and attention of those early days when we were getting to know each other mixed with the comfort and familiarity of all these years of shared history together.

Now I'm sitting here at the table after lunch, and I miss my coffee with James. And I'm counting down the hours until Saturday afternoon...

What I Learned in 2019

My Big Bear Cabin Quilt from Patchwork USA

Happy New Year, friends! It's been a whirlwind of holidays and activities, family time and friendship over the past two months, and I've loved every second of it. So much has been happening in real time that it's been difficult to slip away to this space, but I'm tiptoeing back into the blog, and it feels great to be here with you again.

2019 was good to me. There were things to celebrate and not too many things to mourn. There was plenty of learning and growing which is always helpful. And there was a conscious decision to set aside time for family which was probably the best thing of all. I sat down this morning to think about what stood out to me over the past 12 months, and this is what came to mind...

1. biggest sewing accomplishment: Patchwork USA has been in the works since 2015, and I was thrilled to see it finally released into the world last July. This book is dear to my heart for many reasons, which you can read about here. Getting beautiful messages from readers who love it has brought all kinds of joy to my heart. To each one of you who bought it, thanks a million! And to those of you who haven't, you can still get a copy of your own. I hope you'll love it as much as I do.

2. biggest life change: This was the year that I felt the definite shift from being the mother of 3 little girls to the mother of 3 preteen daughters. It's been wonderful, terrifying, frustrating, exhausting, and exciting all at once, but we're finding our way one step at a time. Having my amazing husband and parents here to support me has been a lifesaver in this area more times than I can count, and together we make a great team. I'm learning the value of perspective and patience, and that sometimes it's better (but not easier) to hold my tongue and listen when the girls are having an off day. I'm pretty darn proud of these young women we're raising, who are each so smart and strong and fun. Being their mother is the hardest job in the world, but it's the best one too.

3. most surprising new habit: I've spent my whole life as a night owl, but this year I dabbled in being an early bird, and I'm still amazed at how much I like it. I don't do it every day, but getting up before dawn and sitting down with a cup of coffee (another new habit, believe it or not!) and my Bible to have a bit of quiet time before the girls are awake has been an anchor for my soul in the mornings. I'm craving more of that peace as I go into the new year.

4. most challenging new habit: I started intermittent fasting at the end of November, which basically just means that on most days, I don't eat after 2:30 in the afternoon. It's been a slow adjustment, but so far I've been pleased to see that it's really helping some of the health issues that were plaguing me last year. Like most things, it seems to get easier the longer you do it. We'll see how it goes over the next few months.

5. favorite unexpected project: I had so much fun designing some enamel pins and vinyl stickers for Maker Pin Co. last spring! They're still available here if you like that sort of thing. It was a dream assignment for me, and I love sharing them with friends when I can.

6. most influential read: The book that had the biggest impact on me this year was definitely Present Over Perfect by Shauna Niequist. I had been hurtling through life at breakneck speed for too long without realizing how much it was costing me, and this book was the wake up call I desperately needed. I'm still figuring out a lot of this stuff as I go along, but the change has been real and important in how I spend my days, and I'm so grateful.

7. favorite new accessory: My glasses are a permanent fixture now that I've crossed over into my 40's, but I like seeing a more interesting face look back at me in the mirror. Being able to read without feeling like I'm going blind is pretty nice too.

8. biggest schedule change: Now that my girls are getting older (they're currently in 4th, 5th, and 8th grade), school is taking a lot more of my time each day. We do a DVD based home school program where the girls watch their classes (taught by amazing teachers in real classrooms) at their desks, and then I make sure that they do their assignments, help them study for quizzes and tests, reteach lessons or tutor as needed, and grade all their papers. As the work is getting more challenging, the time I need to devote to teaching each day is growing. I'm perfectly happy with that since my daughters' education is the most important work I do, but it's meant that I've had to get creative sometimes when it comes to finishing the rest of my tasks each day. Exploring new ways to do this better is on my list of goals for 2020.

So those are the highlights that come to mind at the moment. I had another birthday last month, and it feels surprisingly good. The best thing about being 42 so far is realizing that I no longer need to make excuses for who I want to be. I don't need to apologize for wearing message tees, listening to Billie Holiday, reading old books about the Civil War, and staying home at night watching reruns of Psych with my husband instead of going out on the town. I don't have to feel guilty about lying down for 15 minutes with a good book in the afternoon, letting the dishes sit on the kitchen counter until later in the day, or sneaking off to get ice cream on the weekend without my daughters. The best thing I'm learning is that I don't have to be an all or nothing person in every area of my life. I can ease into new habits, tweak them a bit here and there, and take time to see what works instead of feeling like I have to start a new regime and get everything right immediately or it's no good. It takes a lot of pressure off when you stop trying to live up to the Pinterest boards and give yourself permission to be a human being.

But seriously, don't tell my daughters about the ice cream, because I still feel a little guilty about that one...

The Most Important Things

It's been a little quiet around here lately for the simple reason that May has been difficult this year.

Two weeks ago we got the news that my grandfather, my dad's father, had suffered a massive heart attack. The day after Mother's Day, we found out that my grandmother had walked into the room that morning just in time to see him pass away. I never had the chance to know Grandpa as much as I wanted to, partly because he lived across the country in Minnesota. He loved to drive all over the country with my grandmother in their camper, and occasionally they would swing through our town when I was young, often bringing along a paper bag full of balloons as a special treat for my sister and me. They came by a few times after my girls were born, and my oldest daughter vividly remembers playing card games with Grandma and eating jelly beans in their camper with them while it was parked in our driveway. Although talk always seemed to settle on frivolous things -- the weather, the dogs -- I remember one visit when Grandpa somehow wound up talking about his military service during World War II when he worked in the motor pool for Patton's Third Army. It was a glimpse into a side of him that I hadn't seen before, and I wish I could have heard more. Though he never broached the subject with us, I know that Grandpa was part of the American forces who liberated Dachau concentration camp way back in 1945. I was always terribly proud of his part in that, and I remember thinking of him when I visited the Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. years ago as I was standing in front of the candles lit for Dachau in the Hall of Remembrance. It's hard to believe that Grandpa won't be driving up our driveway again, doting on my dogs and chatting with his great granddaughters.

Only a few days after that, my dad's best friend from college had a sudden heart attack. We worried and prayed and texted messages back and forth with his wife until he was thankfully able to return home after treatment. But I was shaken. It's hard to see the people you looked up to as a child suddenly struggling with health issues, as though your own stability is somehow tied up with theirs.

And then last Sunday night my oldest daughter broke her arm at a church youth gathering, leading to a host of medical appointments and a new normal for the next few months as we help her recover from this intensely painful injury. It's been hard for her to concentrate with all the stress and discomfort, but thankfully we were able to get her last tests finished last night for the school year so that she could start her summer and really begin a time of rest and healing.

As I sit here typing at my computer, I realize that the last few weeks have left me feeling vulnerable. It's not that you don't know that these sorts of things can happen to the people you love. This is life, after all. But when it does, it feels like a tidal wave sweeping over you. The one blessing in it for me is that troubles inevitably bring clarity to my life.  Little, petty things that seemed like such a big deal before, now fall to the side where they belong. The most important things -- which are almost always the things I managed to neglect due to the demands of my over packed schedule -- come to the forefront. You suddenly realize what matters most, and it's okay to let the rest go. And the people you love -- your family and friends -- you understand how much you need them, how important it is to spend time with them while you have them, to not hesitate to say, "I love you" or hug them close as often as you can.

So today's schedule will look a little different for me. Yes, there will be dishes and grading and maybe a bit of writing. But there will also be Lego building and chocolate chip cookie baking, cuddling under quilts and games of Fishy Tag in the pool. Because every minute I spend with this dear family of mine is more precious to me than anything else in the world.

Finding the Fun Again

Yesterday was the first day of spring and, as it so happens, the last day of our spring break this year. We took a few extra days off after our annual week of vacation because my sister's family drove out from California to spend some time with us. Being together is always such a treat, especially for our daughters. I had all five of them in my minivan yesterday afternoon as we went on a special "cousins shopping trip," and it was so much fun. It's amazing to me to see how quickly they're all growing up into beautiful young women.

As I was driving my girls home last night, we were listening to the soundtrack for the Curious George movie which was such a big hit with them so many summers ago when they were little. Just hearing the music took me instantly back to a dozen vivid memories -- seeing them scamper around the vegetable garden with their Daddy, helping them swim in their little plastic pool on the patio in the afternoons, watching cartoons with them in the evening as the smell of warm grapes drifted in the back door from the arbor outside, tucking them and all their stuffed friends into their toddler beds at night.

I remember it all like it was yesterday.

Back then I would clean up after dinner and then get my machine out on the dining room table so that I could get in a little bit of sewing before bedtime. It was such a challenge back then to get any time to sew, and I treasured every chance I had to do it. So much of what I made was for the girls -- play quilts, floor pillows, book bags. All of it was well used and well loved. I was cleaning out our guest room the other day and found a whole stack of those little quilts in a wire basket, too small for my growing girls now but full of memories from when they were just the right size.

I can't escape the fact that, in many ways, I was having a lot more fun with my sewing back then. It was always exciting to look for the next project I had never tried. Fabric collections were fewer, and fabric designers were like rock stars. I remember counting the days until the release of Nursery Versery by Heather Ross (where the mouse print from her current Trixie line made it's debut), Hello Pilgrim by Lizzy House, and anything from Melody Miller's early Ruby Star years. Blogs were still newish, and there were so many sew alongs and swaps back then, all of them administered by chatty, happy Flickr groups. I remember large groups of us sewing through entire books like Zakka Style by Rashida Coleman-Hale and Patchwork, Please! by Ayumi Takahashi. (Does anybody even do that sort of thing anymore? Do any of us have the time to do it??) Working through these books in online communities wasn't just about doing what was popular, but it was also about learning new things with other people who enjoyed it as much as you did.

It wasn't that long ago, really, but those days seem so innocent and naive to me now. Somewhere along the line things changed...or maybe I changed. It's the tradeoff you make with turning your hobby into a business. You get so many opportunities to do amazing things, but that inevitably leads to more deadlines and less time to play. Trying to balance your creative work time with your creative play time, and then figuring out how to balance all of that with your family time -- it's a tightrope I walk every day. Even now as I write this post, I'm trying to alternate between typing and being a guest at my youngest daughter's imaginary diner, where she's serving cardboard blueberry pancakes and rubber chicken. Yes, I'm running short on time this afternoon. Yes, I'd like to get this up on the blog before I have to take the car to the dealer for maintenance. But how many more years will she be willing to put on an apron and serve me plastic food? Some things are too important to wait.

So one of my goals for 2019 is to find the fun again. When it comes to creativity, I want to be able to work hard and play hard. This month I'm looking to one of my most inspiring friends to help me get back on track with that. The unbelievably talented Mary of Sunny Day Supply is running a just-for-fun log cabin sew along on Instagram starting next week. It's not too fussy -- any kind of project featuring any kind of log cabin block will do -- and it will be a wonderful chance to get out my fabric and play. I decided to start early, making a little courthouse steps block that finished at 6" square. It's scrappy and playful and quilted entirely by hand. I added a bit of black and white gingham to the back and turned it into a tiny pillow. Not, of course, because I need another pillow, but because just looking at this little bit of handmade joy makes me so happy that I almost want to cry. I'll be putting it up on a shelf where I can see it every day, reminding myself to find my way back to where I began in this hobby that I love so much...

Bits & Pieces

It's been a rainy few weeks here in the Texas hill country, something I almost couldn't have imagined a month ago when our garden was so dry that we were afraid our plants were going to start dying. Now the grass is bright green, the trees are dripping raindrops, and the deer are enjoying a freshly watered salad bar every morning. I'm upstairs in the loft tonight trying to get in a little extra work on yet another secret project that's due in less than two weeks. It takes more hours than you would think to develop a pattern on paper, to polish and color it in Illustrator, and then to write out the cutting and piecing instructions. You wonder sometimes if it's really going to look as good as you thought it would. That depressing little voice in your head starts whispering that maybe your math is wrong or your fabric combinations are off or it's just going to be a general flop. And then suddenly you're sewing it up at your machine, and oh my word -- it works! It works just the way you hoped it would, and you love it, and you can't stop grinning at those little quilt blocks on the table in front of you. It's a pretty great feeling, let me tell you...

I was so thrilled to have my Date Night collection featured in a pattern called Kite Season by the amazing Jenny Doan of Missouri Star Quilt Co. You can see the video tutorial here and purchase the paper pattern here or PDF download version here. It would make the most adorable picnic quilt ever! Several of my quilting friends have also shared Date Night projects. Be sure to visit Elea, Minki, Lauren, Sandy, and Christopher who made such darling things with my fabric. And be sure to tag any of your own makes with #datenightfabric when you share them!

I have some big projects still in progress, but for now I spend most of my time homeschooling my daughters, catching up on smaller projects, practicing my drawing, and sneaking in a bit of reading and crochet when I have the time. The fall decorations are up in the house again, and I'm feeling the itch to bake cookies and pumpkin bread and all the pies in my favorite cookbooks. For now I'm trying to be good, but we'll see how long that lasts as the weather gets cooler...

After Christmas

I'm one of those people who likes to take the Christmas stuff down on December 26th. It seems heartless, I know, yet I've always felt that when it's over, it's over. We spent all of Tuesday morning packing everything away for next year, and as sad as it was, I can't tell you how wonderful it feels to have all the clutter gone. Even my daughters noticed how clean and neat everything looks again in our house.

It was time for a refresh on my blog too. For years now I've been wanting to add an illustrated header to Fabric Mutt, featuring Naomi the dachshund, who was my official mascot way back in 2012. I haven't had the chance or the technology to do things the way I wanted to before now, but I'm hoping that this will be a fun addition to the blog that will change with the seasons. Spending this last year designing fabric collections for Riley Blake has reminded me how much I love doing illustration, and it's something I want to share in this space more often.

The past three years have been filled with enormous challenges and adventures for me and my family. I wrote a book, moved from California to Texas, walked through some family health issues, started designing fabric, and intensified my work as a homeschooling teacher for my three daughters, who are all growing up so fast that I can hardly stand it. Looking back, it feels as if the blog has been in survival mode for a while now. What was once a relaxed place to drop in often for a chat with all of you about what was going on in my life, both creatively and personally, has become more like an occasional business meeting to inform you about assigned projects. I regret that.

It only takes a few minutes of reading online about blog trends for 2018 to see that the bar is being raised higher and higher. Blogs are now expected to have the staffing, content, and appearance that was once expected only of magazines, and the competition is stiffer than ever before. The hamster wheel of Make! Publish! Sell! Repeat! gets overwhelming pretty fast, and I've seen more than a few bloggers sharing their keen desire to find a way back to authenticity again.

Heading toward her 40th birthday and the start of a new decade in life makes a girl -- ahem, a woman -- think...a lot. As I've been counting down the days until Saturday with both anticipation and a bit of melancholy over the last few weeks, I've decided that I've reached an age where I need to believe in what I'm doing, to find the fun in it, to be myself. So this year I'll be walking into the future by way of the past, mixing the lessons I've learned over the past 6 years (Yes, Fabric Mutt celebrates it's 6th birthday this week!) with a return to the joy that got me here in the first place, that love of sewing that captured my heart from the start. I'll be stopping by this space more often, probably with shorter posts and fewer photos, but with more of the day-to-day details that go into my personal creative journey. I hope that you'll feel free to share back with me about your own goings on in the comments so that we can truly make this a place to chat about what we're making and doing and why.

Starting over has never felt so right. See you again soon, dear friends...

Think Small

There are moments when you have to make something right away. Sometimes you even find yourself running for the printer and the fabric as soon as you see the pattern on your computer screen. 

The Tiny Dresden Pincushion, designed by my friend Amanda of Westwood Acres Fabric, is just about the cutest thing I've ever seen. This was actually my first Dresden block, and I'm completely hooked. I can't wait to make another one. 

I made a few alterations to the pattern, cutting the center circle about 1/2" smaller and using a longer strip for the gusset so that I could sew it on like binding (it's just easier for me that way). The whole project took less than a day. I started this as soon as I finished cutting out the pattern pieces last night, and finished it right after lunch today. For the fabric, I used a bundle that I shared on Instagram over the weekend of some of my very favorite prints. I am absolutely crazy about this darling little pincushion!

Do any of you find that hand sewing encourages deep thinking? It sure does with me. Over the past few months I've found myself mulling over current events as I sew, and it can be so discouraging. 

In this day and age, we're told to think big, dream big. There are certainly moments when this is a good thing. I've been struck lately, though, with the importance of thinking small. The world is going crazy right now. Pain and suffering, injustice and cruelty -- they're happening all around us, and it's frightening to realize that there's not much I can do to alter these things. How many of us have the power to change the world? 

But then I remember that I can change my world. I can't influence heads of state, but I can teach my daughters to be kind to each other. I can't care for hurting people around the globe, but I can encourage a friend who's struggling with problems at home. We can make a difference in the lives of those closest to us, especially our families. It's easier to think that a grand gesture has a bigger impact, but I'm not sure that it does. When we cultivate kindness in the everyday challenges of life, those seeds of love can spread farther than we realize. 

It's not the easy way, mind you. Showing patience with crabby kids, frustrating coworkers, and difficult family members day after day is not for the faint of heart. It takes courage and selflessness and determination. It takes strength beyond ourselves. But isn't it worth the sacrifice?

Make a difference today, my friends...think small.

When Creativity Hurts

Even in the world of sewing, things don’t always go the way we plan. Sometimes my biggest struggles have nothing to do with the tools I'm using and everything to do with the emotions involved in the creative process. Here are the four biggest roadblocks I face and how I deal with them:

1. Criticism: There are few things so painful as criticism. It occasionally comes from those we know in person, but so often these days it hits hardest online, especially through the fickle world of social media and anonymous comments. When people criticize your work -- be it a project, a blog post, a pattern or book -- step back and take a deep breath before responding...if you must respond at all. Ask yourself if the criticism is valid. If it is, learn from it and move on. If it isn't, work through the emotions of the moment and then let it go. People say all kinds of things for all kinds of reasons, and their issues don't change who you are and why you do what you do. Take the advice of the people who matter in your life and leave the rest alone.

2. Comparison: No matter how long you’ve been sewing or how good you are at it, there’s someone out there who’s been doing it longer or “better” than you. Make peace with it and don't let it discourage you. Theodore Roosevelt famously said, “Comparison is the thief of joy.” If you spend all your time trying to keep up with everyone else, you’re missing the point. You can appreciate the talents of others without feeling bad about your own skills. Gain inspiration and knowledge where you can and keep making what you love.

3. Perfectionism: As a perfectionist myself, I have a lot of understanding for those who struggle to get each project exactly right. It’s so easy to praise each other’s work and downplay the flaws, but oh, how we struggle to do the same with our own projects. Give yourself the same grace that you would share with a friend, practice where you need to, and let go of your mistakes. Someone reminded me once that so-called "perfect" work is done entirely by machines, while the little imperfections in our projects show that they were created by human hands. There can be beauty even in our limitations. 

4. Stagnation: There will come a day (if it hasn’t already) when you sit down at your sewing machine, look at your fabric, pick up the project you’ve been working on...and feel no desire whatsoever to sew. It can be a little unsettling when the thing that brought you so much happiness suddenly seems difficult, burdensome, or just plain blah. Don’t let it throw you. Any hobby can get a little stale after a while, even sewing. Sometimes the best thing to do is step away from it for a few days or even indulge in another favorite past time for a week or two. Odds are pretty good that when you walk back to that sewing table after a break, you’ll be refreshed and ready to start creating again.

The most important thing to remember when facing any of these issues is that you're not the only one. We all deal with frustrations, hurts, and disappointments in our creative work at one time or another. They’re not the end of the world, and they won’t steal your joy unless you let them. Don’t ever let them. Be who you are and love what you make. It's always the best way to go.

Simply Strippy Sewing Kit & The Next Big Thing

This project has been on my Must Make list for a while now. Scrap Happy Sewing by Kim Kruzich (also known as Retro Mama) is full of adorable projects to make with your leftover bits of fabric happiness. You know that I can never refuse another sewing kit, and the Simply Strippy version is adorable.

Most of the patchwork pieces for this kit came from my scrap bins, though I tossed in a few pieces of Foxglove by Aneela Hoey which came in my last fabric package -- such a beautiful collection. I added some Art Gallery Fabric denim in Adobe Clay for the inner pockets as well as an extra pocket using more Foxglove.

This little kit was so fun to make and a really fast sew -- about two hours of sewing in between afternoon errands and dinner with the family.

The next big project on my list is setting up a sewing station for my three daughters who are finally getting their own machine. It's exciting and yes, just a little bit scary to think about how quickly they're growing up. My oldest turned 9 in February, and she's been begging for this privilege for at least a year. I'm taking a deep breath, stocking up on band-aids, and getting ready to become Sewing Teacher Extraordinaire this summer. Because as I spent a bit of time thinking about this whole motherhood thing during the big day yesterday, I realized that doing all that we do to take care of our kids -- while exhausting and overwhelming -- is really not the hardest part of our job. The hardest part is teaching them to be independent enough not to need us so much anymore. This stage has been quietly creeping up on me this year, and though I've never considered myself a control freak, I'm learning that it's not easy to let go. No, my girls aren't headed off to college for almost a decade yet, but now is the time to teach them that there are already things they can do for themselves. Things like folding their own laundry and helping with dinner, studying for tests and sewing birthday gifts for friends, knowing what they believe and standing up for what's right. If they can tuck these things away now, I know they'll be habits by the time they're ready to fly off on their own wings.

So yes, it's time to let my girls learn how to use a sewing machine all by themselves. And I'm excited and nervous and a just a wee bit emotional.

And so proud I can hardly stand it.

Sewing in Real Life

Our first family picture after Mouse was born -- you all know how careful I am with my daughters' privacy, but for this post, I wanted to share a few pictures from the past.

I gave birth to three daughters in four years. We didn't plan it that way -- it's just how things worked out. And though I now love having our girls so close in age, it was really, really hard when they were little. 

Taken in our back yard, this was the photo we used for our last birth announcement.

I will never forget that first year after Mouse was born. My husband and parents would head off to work in the mornings, and I would sit in the upstairs back bedroom with my three little girls, the only room where I could contain them by myself without help while I was recovering from my c-section. I did it almost every day for months on end, exhausted and emotionally raw from the 2-3 hours of sleep I was getting each night due to Mouse's acid reflux condition. I cuddled toddlers, watched cartoons, rocked the baby's bouncy chair with my foot, played Solitaire on my computer...and wondered if I was going to survive. Maybe that was the hardest part of it all. Being a mother had always been one of my lifelong dreams, and it wasn't turning out the way I thought it would. I wasn't just struggling -- I was drowning. 

My three little pumpkins...

I often remember telling my family, "If I could just get enough sleep at night, I could deal with everything else." But it wasn't to be. All three of our daughters had sleep issues from the very beginning. I kept thinking it would go away, that they would grow out of it, but none of them did. My husband helped as much as he could, but I would only let him get up with the girls on weekends, since I felt the California freeways were dangerous enough without him trying to commute to work on too little sleep. I read every book and article I could find on getting your kids to sleep through the night, talked to other mothers, tried every new method I came across. Nothing worked. I would listen to other moms who said, “Oh, my baby started sleeping through the night at 2, 3, 4 months. She’s just so easy!” and I would want to cry over what felt like my own failure.

The girls grew older, and I was sure that we would get past this stage. "Wait till they stop taking naps," people told me. "Wait till they're in school. It will all be so different." But the years passed, and nothing changed. The girls were each still getting up one or more times every night. I can't tell you how many evenings I sat rocking a weeping child, tears running down my face as I silently begged God to fix this part of our lives that seemed like it would always be broken. Sometimes my mom would be up in the night when I was, and she would listen to me pour out my heart over the girls. I was so overwhelmed at times by how difficult it was to be a mother. "Maybe someday it will get easier," I would say. And Mom would shake her head no with a meaningful smile and reply, "It never gets easier."

I've been getting hand picked bouquets from my girls since they first started toddling around the front yard. 

  
It was during all these years of struggle that I discovered sewing, started my blog, and wrote my book.

I keep the focus mainly on my creative work here at Fabric Mutt, but every now and then I try to pull back the curtain and give you a glimpse of sewing in real life. There's such an irony to social media and blogging. We want to keep it real, but the truth is that you get a lot more "likes" on the pretty photos. After all, what's more inspiring -- a) pictures of me cleaning up after the dog while I holler at the kids to stop climbing under the table and eat their lunch already, or b) pictures of my latest patchwork project? (Trust me, the answer is b.) My ongoing battle with sleep deprivation has been a huge part of my life over the last decade, but sewing and blogging have helped me cope with it in a small way. It's true that not everything in my life is picture perfect, but this creative outlet has given me the push I needed to look beyond the craziness of life to find the little bits of lovely that are all around me. It's taught me to take time to enjoy them, and most of all, to share them -- with my precious family and with all of you. 

Sunday morning smiles from Spring 2013.

My girls are now 5, 6, and 9 years old, and for the past three months, I've enjoyed the closest thing to uninterrupted sleep I've had in 9 years. We've relapsed a few times with bad dreams or illness, but those few setbacks just remind me how far we've come. I'm grateful, more grateful than I can say, to be finally coming out into the light after so many years struggling through what felt like such a dark valley. It’s been one of the most difficult things in my life, but we're making it. My darling girls are the joy of my heart -- I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world. My husband and I have come through this, seeing each other at our worst and knowing we can still count on each other. My parents have been a fount of wisdom and sanity that I've come back to time and again. And while we looked back through our photos to choose some pictures for this post, my husband and I shared a few tears and lots of laughter. As hard as those days were, there were so many great moments mixed in with the tough ones.

More than anything, this journey has reminded me to have grace for other women who struggle with issues in their children that they can’t control. It's so typical in our culture today to point out what others are doing wrong, but most of us as moms don't need to hear it. We have a personal guilt recording playing in our head 24 hours a day that reminds us of all the ways we feel we're letting our kids down. You have no idea how much it means to a struggling mom when you come alongside her with love and encouragement to say, “You’re going to make it through this. You're doing better than you think. No one loves that child like you do.”

So to those of you dear readers who are still fighting your own battle, I beg you...don't give up hope. Keep doing your best. Keep loving your child. You will get through this. I promise.

The Truth About Change

This doily was a wedding present from a family friend who passed away this year.

When I went back tonight to read my New Year's post from last January, I had to laugh. My goal for this year was to be less of a perfectionist, to be more "out of control." Oh, the irony. I had no idea how out of control I was going to be in 2015... 

A larger Cotton + Steel version of my mini typewriter quilt (tutorial here)

There were so many good things this year. My book, Sew Organized for the Busy Girl, was released. I attended my first Quilt Market. I packed up 37 years worth of memories and moved to the Texas hill country with my family. Yet in many ways, this has felt like a year of being taken apart and put back together again. I'm starting over on so many things. Where do I go from here? Where do I want to go? 

A rainbow pillow for a friend I've never met...

The truth about change is that it's hard -- even when the changes are good. When you've done things one way for so long, it's hard to imagine doing anything else. 

My beloved Kindle cover

The good news is that every one of these changes has led me to this moment in my life where I can truly say that I'm content. I get to do what I love in a home that I love with the people I love. And though I honestly don't have a clue where I'm going in 2016, it's okay. I'm taking things one day at a time.

The hexagon bag I made for Quilt Market

Back when I was in high school, I had to memorize the poem "George Gray" by Edgar Lee Masters from Spoon River Anthology, a book of poems that are meant to be autobiographical epitaphs for the residents of a small town cemetery. As it turned out, I had to perform the same poem for a speech recital a few years later as a college freshman. Perhaps it was a lesson I was meant to relearn, both in school and in life:

I have studied many times

The marble which was chiseled for me--

A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor.

In truth it pictures not my destination

But my life.

For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment;

Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid;

Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances.

Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in my life.

And now I know that we must lift the sail

And catch the winds of destiny

Wherever they drive the boat.

To put meaning in one's life may end in madness, 

But life without meaning is the torture

Of restlessness and vague desire-- 

It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.

Change isn't easy, but it's better than a lifetime of fear. I would rather go forward than stand still or, worse yet, slip backwards. So friends, may you and I lift the sail and go with joy to whatever God has in store for us in 2016.

Happy new year.