Monday, 24 July 2017

Ease into motherhood: Find Your Voice

  
Ease In to Motherhood is a sewists’ celebration of motherhood and the changes it brings to our lives. During the month of July, we invite you to share your experiences of the physical and mental changes of pregnancy, childbirth and/or any other way a child comes to your life. We invite you to share how you embrace yourself throughout motherhood, to appreciate all the physical and mental energy it takes, to accept and love the changes in your body, your mind and your life. We invite you to share how you still dedicate time to care for yourself. We invite you to share how sewing is a part of your life through the journey.

(A discussion opened and hosted by Erin, Jodi and Montserratt).


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OK so I know it's a nice little play on sewing words, but I must admit that my very first thought was: um, ease into motherhood? HAHAHAHAHAHA. CRASH, more like it!

Or was that just me?

Two pics of each - I most definitely do not have four children

The thing was, though, I loved having tiny babies. I know for some (most?) people, the early months of constant feeding, nappy-changing and interrupted sleep are a tortuous experience which improves dramatically as the child gets bigger. But I found the newborn phase relatively easy - breastfeeding went fine, the first child was a good sleeper, and while the second wasn't, I was enjoying myself so much that I breezed through his first six months fuelled on a mix of euphoria and strong coffee.  Perhaps that's why the crash, when it came, was all the harder.  I'd thought I was doing just fine. And no, I didn't much like the weaning and toddling, but this too was a phase they'd grow into and then out of. I didn't think I had anything much to worry about.

I stopped breastfeeding my son (the second of the two) quite suddenly when he was six months old. I had been enjoying pottering along on maternity leave and sort of forgot I was going back to work, and would therefore need to getting him drinking out of bottles for his time in daycare, until the week before. He took to it immediately, and the physical relief of not feeding him myself every two hours was so huge that within that week I transitioned him to being entirely bottle fed. Feeding issues for creche: sorted. Me: liberated. I hardly gave it a second thought.

I should have. Eight years later, I am now quite firmly convinced (on no scientific basis whatsoever I must add) that that sudden hormonal, physical and emotional change was what flipped the switch in my brain somewhere and kicked off my journey into depression. I've talked about that experience here, and luckily, not much has changed since then (the meds and mindfulness do their job!) What I do have now, though, that I didn't fully realise at that time, is an awareness of just how much my struggle with depression and anxiety is and has been a struggle with the fact that I am a mother.

That's a hard thing to face. I'm not even sure I could say why it is (I could offer a few theories, but they're probably best kept for the therapist). But it recurs over, and over, and over again - almost any anxiety or stress I experience, however it presents itself to begin with, only gets resolved when I trace it back to the same question: who am I? I'm a mother. And what kind of mother am I? And what else am I? And who are these children, and how do we grow together? And that's where the process of working it out, picking myself up again, starts.


Left: bought the fabric without thinking of the ironing those sodding ruffles would need.
Centre: towels + bias tape. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Worn once only.
Right: the first trousers I ever made. A rare early success!


So, motherhood and sewing. Well, I completely agree with everything Vicki wrote here about Getting Yourself A Thing. Obviously, sewing is my Thing too, and I'm very glad I found it. Also my Things are blogging, and instagramming, and twitting (less frequently these days) about sewing.  Being able to communicate with others about the Thing does me a power of good! And if I have anything to say to other parents reading this, I suppose it's on that. Find Your Thing, yes, but also:  Find Your Voice.

I had another blog before I started this one. It only lasted a few months before I shut it down, and the reason I did that wasn't because no-one read it (though they didn't) but because it wasn't my voice that was coming out.  Instead, it was the voice of someone who thought that blogging about sewing was somehow the same thing as blogging about your children, and about sewing and crafting for them and with them. You see, there were so many wonderful sewing sites and tutorials out there - Dana, Sew Mama Sew, to name just two - and I simply didn't know where the not-mummy things were. In my real voice, now, I can tell you this: I hate crafting with children. I'm SO glad mine are big enough now to do their own crafts without very much parental input. But back then, when they were small, that blog started like this...

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Wednesday, February 9, 2011
First post


This is my idea of a good time: at home pottering about and making a merry old mess. Them: toys, crayons and books. Me: pins, needle and thread.

I learned to sew with my mum and at a rather traditional girls’ school where I and 5 others took GCSE textiles. In my rose-tinted memory the class was a twice-weekly haven of calm, creativity and gossip; my mum mainly remembers the enormous practical coursework burden and desperate all-nighters trying to finish the projects.  These were clearly enough to put me off, because I hardly sewed anything for the next 15 years or so.

And then last summer I got my stitching mojo back. I rediscovered my sewing machine (a secondhand 1970s model that cost 20 pounds and weighs about the same), experimented with some easy dresses, and then threw myself into making Christmas presents for my friends. Since September I’ve spent more lunchbreaks than I care to admit on fabric porn*.

Even at its most frustrating, sewing is total occupational therapy. It’s absorbing and it's liberating, keeping my hands busy and clearing my head. I find myself actually thinking about things again (with two toddlers and a full time job, it's been a while since I did that).  So this blog is mainly about keeping a record of the things I’ve made - but it’s also about getting myself to keep sewing and thinking. Because another thing I really enjoy but don’t do any more is writing.

The idea is that making stuff and writing about it keeps me more or less sane...

* i.e., wandering around fabric shops, stroking things and trying not to drool.

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It's clearly me in that post, and I still hold to most of it. But you know what? In reality, I hate mess. And nice though it was to sew in the middle of family life, generally I find it even nicer to sew in my own room, preferably with the door shut and an audiobook on. In that post, the kids get mentioned first, then I appear briefly before moving on to my own mother, who pops up straight away in the second paragraph (analyse that...). That idea I had about "keeping myself sane" - I suspect what I meant was "keeping" (or rather, "making") myself the kind of mum who blogs lovely things about her children on the internet. It is me in that post - but it also really, really isn't.

The only kind of parent any of us can be is an authentic one.  Nobody else can parent your kids the way you do (and that's a good thing!); no-one else can speak to your experience.  You might be the parent, like me, whose only choice is to embrace the fact that motherhood and identity are sands constantly shifting beneath your feet. That's ok. We're ok. Our kids are ok. It's who we are. The only stories we can tell are our own; and we are the only ones who can tell them.

You just need to Find Your Voice.

(It's the one that's been there all along).


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Wednesday, 19 July 2017

Back at it

Yesssss the scissors are out again!!


One dress-length fluorescent striped Sutton blouse hack, coming right up!

In other news, knitting.

I'll spare you the story of why there is a sofa in front of the door to the garden.

I started the sweater - in fact I liked starting it so much, I did it about 4 times until I got a gauge I was happy with. 




It starts with a neckline welt, which reminded me how much I love provisional cast ons. Such a clever thing! You know what else I love? That on Ravelry, you can use "provisional cast on" as a pattern search criteria. (Yes I know that should be 'criterion' but it just sounds weird). On Ravelry you can use almost anything as as a search criterion (ok fine, inner grammer nazi). You want free patterns for socks knit sideways with a provisional cast on in Estonian, sorted in order of hotness? Take your pick.




Also this week, I blocked a cowl and maxed out my credit card paying the security deposit for a motorhome rental. The next time I tried to order some yarn - and it wasn't even much, less than 20 euros!! - my payment was refused. NOOOOOOOOOO.  Holidays are all well and good, as is budgeting properly, I suppose. But GAH. A pattern pdf here and there never broke the bank - however a month without paypal might just break ME. 

On which I shall leave you, contemplating just exactly what that says about the health of my online purchasing habits #ugh


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Sunday, 9 July 2017

Today we had nothing to do

Today we had nothing to do. For the first time in months, there were no looming deadlines, no Lists of Stuff To Get Done, there was nowhere at all we needed to be.  There's no school tomorrow. Work is heading into July quietly. I woke up this morning with the summer stretching out before me - blissfully filled with absolutely Nothing. At. All. (Except all the actual things it is filled with, but those are FUN and include - but are not limited to - a trip to Plovdiv, Bulgaria, and three weeks in the Highlands of Scotland with a campervan. Bring it!)

Anyway, I marked this momentously Nothing of a day by quietly realising that I have been struck with a case of startitis.  I'm waiting on an order of little tiny needles with which to knit socks, and some longer-but-still-quite-tiny needles with which to knit a cowl, and this morning I decided that I just didn't want to wait for them to arrive. I wanted to start knitting.

So I did. Throwing reason and caution to the wind, I picked some yarn that has been waiting to be a jumper, and a pattern that has been waiting for yarn, decided they'd do fine together, and started. Yes I know that doesn't sound exactly unreasonable or uncautious, but please understand: usually, I am most absolutely, strictly monogamous with my projects. Nothing starts until the previous project is done, whether knitting, sewing or anything else. But today, as I said, I woke up feeling liberated. You know what? When those needles arrive, I'm going to start knitting the other things too, BOTH OF THEM. Booyah.

Because this isn't exactly having three different juggling balls in the air at once, all ready to come crashing down at a moment's notice, is it? This is blowing bubbles and watching them float slowly up and away in their own directions. Socks, sweater or cowl? I'll just knit whichever I feel like, whenever I feel like it. There's no rush: they don't have to be done, not ever if I decide I don't want to. If I decide so, I can just burst that bubble, frog that thing - and start something else.

Oh yes, it's a small thing, but then the big things generally are. Dear lovelies out there, I wish you a most excellent start to your week!

(And I also very much hope I haven't jinxed myself in speaking of this liberated feeling out loud. If it's another several months before I post, assume today was a one off...)


Not today. The other week, snapped by the boy who SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN PLAYING WITH MY PHONE
but ok, it's a picture of me knitting, which was a nice surprise.


P.S. Yes I know, I mentioned the wedding dress and then disappeared. It happened and I promise I will tell you all about it... soon. Probably.

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Wednesday, 25 January 2017

White, grey, all the colours


WHITE: this box, its contents, and snow.


Me and daughter went to buy the box and its contents on a day when the city was covered in dirty slush. She spent the whole time wishing she lived in the countryside where the cold is prettier, much to the chagrin of me and her dad - we both escaped from rustic tedium as soon as we could, but does she appreciate the bright lights of the big smoke? Does she crap. Ah, the circle of generational resistance! She also filled my phone with random pictures in and from the shop. This view of the car park is the only one in focus.


The box and its contents cost almost 1400 euros. Well, I suppose the box was free. The contents are for my sister's wedding dress. Am I insane? Yes, probably. I have until 6 May.  A mock up has been done, and I only have about 4 pages of adjustments to make before the next one.


Good thing I asked for a whole bunch of tailoring and couture-appropriate sewing supplies for Christmas, really.  Here's hoping it all makes the wedding dress sewing a total breeze. That's likely, right?


GREY: January, my mood, some yarn.


The above was a grey afternoon earlier this month when I cut out an admittedly not-grey dress (an Elisalex, should you be interested) which I am now wearing, as I write. That fabric combined with my blue cardigan makes me feel a little like I'm in school uniform, which is not exactly lifting my spirits.You can hear the grey mood, can't you? I've basically been a total misanthrope for the last two months, December's final week of food, booze and chocolate excepted. I expect I'll cheer up soon. But it probably explains my growing addiction to Noro yarn.


The trick with Noro yarn is to always buy it on sale. Although unless you are very strong willed you will cancel out the savings by buying so much of it your cupboard is overflowing with the brightly-coloured nubbly stuff and you have no idea what you will do with it all.

I am not very strong willed.

For balance, I have combined this radiant rainbow of a skein - so the scarf is at least semi-sophisticated - with a contrasting solid colour. Yes, more grey.


But, see this next knitted thing: ALL THE COLOURS!


Yes, I do already have a (not-combined-with-grey) Noro scarf thing. Which is just as well, because above-mentioned daughter has already claimed the new one for when its done.

I like how the fringe on this one makes me feel like a hippy.


In other news, I have been investigating (i.e. buying supplies for) cross stitch. Because I need a new hobby like I need a hole in the head. But hey, variety is the spice of life - and totally not a "I'm scared of sewing a wedding dress" distraction!

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I think I might be here more frequently, maybe, from now on. But less, well, I don't know - I might ramble and there might be less crafts. It's time... time to let some of the writing out...

I hope you are well, dear friends! Belated happy 2017! What are you working on to start your year?


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Thursday, 24 November 2016

A year in the making: knitted Cline sweater

I have decided to be a grumpy old git for the month of November.


It's dark and boring. Everyone is hunkered down doing nothing much but waiting for the December madness to kick off, and to be frank I'm feeling a bit bah humbug about that too. I like Christmas and all - in fact, generally I love it - but for Christmas to go smoothly in a month's time means engaging my brain NOW about things like travel and gifts and recipes, and my brain does not wish to be engaged. It would like to hibernate. It is asking itself what the hell it was thinking in September when it decided to knit masses of presents and bought all the wool and then just looked at it for a long time, because the appearance of Git Me that does not want to knit to a deadline while procrastinating on the big food-related to-do list WAS INEVITABLE.


Thing is, I know very well what September brain was thinking. It was thinking: I AM A KNITTING WIZZZZAAARD(-ess?)!!!!

Because of this jumper.


This jumper took over a year of knitting. No, actually, that's not true: it took over a year to complete, in which time I also knit several other things, because the knitting of this jumper was at once overwhelming (it's knit in pieces! Even when you've finished knitting it, it's not done!!) and overwhelmingly tedious. (Stockinette. Knit flat. In four separate parts. Insert crying emoji here). It's also knit in about the scratchiest wool I could find - well, in any case, the scratchiest wool I have ever knit with. All in all, it was not a smooth sensory experience.


Basically, this jumper was the very definition of knitting for the product, not the process.  However. I knew, from well before I even cast on, that I would love the product.  And the reason September brain was feeling so exuberant about its knit skillz is because I was right - all that hard work (ok, "hard work") finally paid off. I DO love it! 



There are people who don't like wearing scratchy wool.  There are people who think that a baggy gray jumper is too tedious to wear, let alone make (my mum helpfully voiced this opinion repeatedly). There are people who think dolman sleeves are the opposite of an interesting design feature.


I am not any of those people. And this piece of knitwear fits predictably, perfectly well into my weekend uniform of (skinny) jeans and (oversized) sweater. 

See? I'm smiling. (This picture was taken before November).


SLEEVES GIF.


  • My notes on ravelry here

So, my northern hemisphere friends, how are you coping with the decreasing daylight? Any tips for me? Just no-one say hygge, ok.  And southern hemisphere friends - NO WAIT  DON'T TELL ME I DON'T EVEN WANT TO KNOW.

Er, sorry. I'll probably be in a better mood next time...

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