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Another confession.  Up until very recently, I had a secret fear.  A fear of…

my sewing machine.

Years ago, I purchased it with the great intentions of learning to sew along with my older daughter N.  We were excited and delighted until taking it out of the box.  The thing looked like a mechanical monster.  Oh heck no.  Back into the box it went.  Tucked deep into a little-used closet.  No sewing for me.  Nope.  No way.

Over the years I met many great gals who loved to sew.  No fear with these ladies.  I occasionally would suggest that I take a lesson or two from them, but heaved a secret sigh of relief when we became too busy to get it done.

Fast forward.  Labor Day 2008.  My friend Kari, bless her widdle heart, tells me to stop being a wimp, grab the machine and get to her house.  (She was a bit nicer than that, but you get the picture.)  Faced with no other options or distractions, off we went.  Machine and Me.

After figuring out the bobbin winding business and the threading thingy (Did you know all kinds of crazy things happen when you miss just one of those pesky threading steps?  Of course you did.), I finally started sewing.  Here’s the proof:

WOO HOO!!!

After discovering that I indeed could sew something that looked like a seam without driving the needle through my fingers or somehow breaking the machine, I felt SO ACCOMPLISHED!

But Kari wasn’t done yet.   She had some extra material and helped me make this bag:

Could it be any cuter? I think not.

It’s even reversible!  I’ll post a picture of it inside-outsy after I teach N to sew the big pink buttons on it.  I’ll betcha Kari would even share her pattern with us if you want it!

Who knew I had it in me?  🙂

This post will seal the deal regarding my amateur status in all things pertaining to thread, yarn, and other fiber. 

I know mending doesn’t really qualify as a craft, per se, and there is no Ravelympics event for it, but when your little girl brings you her most cherished, stuffed buddy-type critter, with yet another tear in its threadbare little body, then the practical, the creative, and the mama in you collide. 

Voila!  Buddy surgery.  The newest craft. 

M’s bestest buddy Ducky (also affectionately called Duck-Duck by M, and Stinky Potato by N) had a big hole in her chin.  This particular treasure has been with M for over eight years.  Ducky has been through a lot in her life, including having her beak chewed off years ago by our Boxer puppy.  M smuggles the potato-sized, rattling shred of cloth and stuffing wherever she can get away with smuggling it.  So when Ducky gets a(nother) hole in her disintegrating little body, it’s a highly serious matter.

Behold the seriousness of the problem.  See what I mean…

So, today Ducky’s surgery was on the schedule.  As you can see, Ducky has already been the beneficiary of multiple amateur surgeries, designed much more to extend her life than to enhance her beauty.  Today chin surgery was the project.

Caveat and note to self and all others who might seek to attempt the new craft of Buddy Surgery:  Do not attempt to use said stuffed buddy as a make-shift pin cushion while reaching for other supplies while said buddy’s mama is in the vicinity.  Such an effort is certain to result in wails of protest–not from the buddy, but from the buddy’s mama.  (Silly me.)

But I digress. 

It is difficult to find the appropriate shade of dingy light yellow thread for such a well-loved buddy.  I was somewhat comforted with the sad truth that the dinginess would surely appear on Ducky soon after the surgery as M loves on her. 

Here is Ducky after her chin surgery:

Yes, I know.  A face only a mother could love.

Suffice it to say, M was delighted.  Dr. Mom came through and saved the day.  Indeed, I’ve developed a reputation among stuffed buddies as one of the greatest surgeons around.  🙂

In fact, the waiting list of new patients has piled up, thanks to M’s (and Ducky’s) joyful recommendations!

Here are my Future Patients:

 

Being a hero to your kids.  Really, is there any better way to spend the day?

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