I made this!!

Not the beautiful little girl in the picture (although I had no small part in growing her too) but the blankie she is so happily cuddling. Her first blankie died yesterday - it had been cut and washed so many times that it was literally transparent in many areas. But Hannah still loved it and slept with it every night.

Until the tragedy of light saber wars in the living room. She had her blankie tied around her waist - since any self-respecting Jedi Pirate princess has to have the appropriate accessories. Her brother won the saber fight and in the process tore the last remaining shreds of her blankie. We had dramatic tears, heartfelt apologies, and then I promised to sew her another one.

To say I am not the craftiest person would be an understatement. I am fun and creative but most hobbies have passed me by either because of lack of dexterity or lack of patience. I decided right after I had Hannah in some illustration of post-partum delirium that I was going to learn to sew. And I did - although not very well. I sewed exactly one thing with my newly acquired sewing skills - Hannah's blankie. That blankie has travelled with us, had various and asundry nasty baby body fluids on it, been chewed on extensively, and had magical powers to heal boos boos and dry tears.

So yesterday I drug out my sewing machine which has been living a lonely life on a shelf in my garage for the past 6 years. Then I took it to the sewing machine repair shop because I couldn't get it to work. I cringed in embarassment when the sewing master at McDougall's gently told me that I had it threaded backwards and walked me through the elementary version of "This is your sewing machine". After a few false starts, some akward pinning, and some very uneven stitching blankie 2.0 was born. It will never win an award at the county fair but Hannah loves it and that is really all that matters.

I would love to say that having sewed the blankie, I will develop my crafty abilities but in all reality the sewing machine will probably take up residence once again on my garage shelf until being called into action by my child's tear stained face.