Monday, November 24, 2008

Mother, sewer, teacher

"Nah nah. Nah nah. Nah nah!" To the untrained ear, those "words" uttered by my 17-month-old daughter probably sound like gibberish. But I know better.

At some point each day my little one runs into my craft room and points to the sewing machine. She looks at me expectantly and says, "Nah nah. Nah nah. Nah nah!" over and over until I ask her if she wants to sew. I'm rewarded with a big smile as she dances in place while I get my machine set up.

I pull up my chair and we get out her fabric, a little leftover swatch of chocolate colored cotton duck that I couldn't bear to toss out. She helps me put the fabric under the presser foot and watches as I sew line after line of stitches.

Sometimes, she shows her fabric to Daddy so he can see what we've done. Other times, she'll carry it around for a while then drop it somewhere in the house. It usually turns up later that night on the floor of her room or covering one of her "babies". Seeing it always makes me smile as I think of how my baby is growing up.

When she gets a little older, I'll buy her a tiny sewing machine just like my mom did for me. And I'll give her the gift of sewing, creativity and sweet memories.

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