A Sticky Situation

It’s incredible what a storm can do.

It was Wednesday at 4:30 a.m. At least I think it was 4:30. It’s a little fuzzy now. At any rate, I heard a sound like a bomb exploding and woke up confused. I had no idea what it was until a flash of light lit up the whole room, followed by a second explosion. I realized it was a storm, not an invasion.

Actually, it was both. Immediately we were set upon by three kids and a cat. The other cat made it through under a bed somewhere, and the dog stayed in her kennel but the rest of our motley crew tried to crowd in the queen-sized bed.

As the storm raged on our situation on the bed deteriorated until beanbags were brought in and thrown on the floor and only three of us (and a cat) were left on the bed. At one point we had a mom, a cat and a kid on the bed with a second kid perpendicular across our feet. On the floor was a dad and a third kid, squished on two beanbags each while the dog whined in the kennel. Good times.

At any rate, by the time school was out and work was through, there was little energy for creative endeavors in our home. The next day, too, our project plan was drowned out by the continued rain. So gears had to be switched and we decided on a sweet, indoor project instead. We decided to make marshmallows.

Who doesn’t think the world needs more homemade marshmallows? I am certain you were just saying to someone the other day, “I wish I had some homemade marshmallows but I’m stuck with this old store-bought bag that only cost $1.50”.

I’m pretty sure Williams Sonoma makes some called artisanal marshmallows, so henceforth, I will refer to ours as very-artisanal. I even pre-read the whole recipe and saw where it said, “chill for three hours” before we started. Ha! Take that cake-pop recipe!

Time to call the kids, who bailed on me! That’s right, two of the three decided to go play with friends!

My darling youngest child, referred to here for the rest of the post as “The Favorite”, declared that she would love to make marshmallows and ran to wash her hands.

We started with the unflavored gelatin. It had to “bloom” while we mixed the rest of the candy. The Favorite added ingredients to the pan and started stirring.

At this point, one of the deserters and her friend ran through the kitchen to check out the progress. They tasted the corn syrup and declared it “ewwwww, too sweet!” Impressive, coming from eight year-olds.

Once we got the sugar boiling I took over the stirring. I didn’t want an ER visit, just marshmallows. I added the candy thermometer and turned up the heat. The Favorite asked how hot it was supposed to get and when she heard 240 degrees, she asked, “is that Fahrenheit?” A kindergartener.

We added the sugar mixture to the gelatin and The Favorite was back to stirring again. I put the bowl on the stand mixer and turned it on. We set the microwave timer to six minutes and started watching the mixer.

“Not long until six minutes is over,” she said.

Then, “It’s turning from yellowish-beigeish to white!”

And, “The timer is in the twos now!”

Also, “Since we have a bag of marshmallows (yes, store-bought) we can eat one of those and then one of these and see how they are different and how they are alike,” she said. “We already know one way they are alike without tasting them,” she giggled. “They are both white!”

We turned up the speed and The Favorite nearly lost her mind. “Let’s kick it up, let’s kick it up!” she danced around. “What happens if you turn it up to 10?” I was thinking, “what happens if we turn it up to 11?” I probably would have gotten a blank stare. I don’t think she’s seen Spinal Tap yet.

The timer beeped and we stopped the mixer. In another bowl (starting to get the picture of how many pans and things we used for this?) we put egg whites and started whipping those. Another amazement ensued: “It’s all fluffy, whoa! Egg whites are fluffy, fluffy white and marshmallows are fluffy, fluffy white,” she said. “But marshmallows are fluffy white cylinders.” Yup.

We added the egg whites to the mixer then poured the mix in a pan right when deserter two and her pal buzzed through again. The Favorite was licking a spatula and said, “This tastes just like a marshmallow, you guys should try it!”

They started to act very friendly and saying nice things to me…yes, I was suspicious. “Oh, now you want to be involved,” I said. I caved. I let the other kids try some. They had such big sweet smiles until I told them it would be three hours until we had full marshmallows. Gone again.

Three hours later…

We actually had marshmallows. Very artisanal, oddly shaped and vanilla-ey marshmallows. The kids all got some (even the deserters and the friend who now may think we are crazy) and they declared that, “They taste like really vanilla-ey marshmallows!”

Now for homemade graham crackers.

Or maybe not!

Finishing the Final Case

Before I regale you with the events of Pillowcase #3, I wanted to let you in on a little perk of this endeavor. Since we’ve been creating marvelous masterpieces, the girls have had less time to memorize infomercial taglines. Sigh of relief!

There is just so much “They’re happy, Happy Nappers, and they love to play with you!” or “Wuggle Pets, Wuggle Pets, snuggle my, huggle my, Wuggle Pet!” or “Now, get the best of both worlds with Pajama Jeans!” I can take.

My kids are walking ads that spit out taglines at will. I have been informed that the Buxton Leather Organizer could really help me every day, or that the Gyro Bowl would keep the car clean. Thank you, Disney Channel, for your discerning commercial selection process.

Now, though, they aren’t getting much post-homework TV time and my brain is getting a much deserved hiatus from infomercial-theme drivel.

Moving on to the pillowcase process with my middle child. I have said before that nobody needs to be told she is the middle child. Spend five minutes with her and you’ll be pretty confident of her birth order. She is also a very quirky, funny pinball of a child who never stops asking questions. I literally had to stop the process 14 times to jot down what she said.

This child also has a little sewing experience. Last year, in first grade, she worked on a hand-sewn quilt block. Therefore, she declared that she “knows how to sew.” The machine and rotary cutter were new territory, however, so I had to tell her that she did not “know how to sew.”

Here is her first experience sitting in front of the machine (please read the next part at high, high speed for accuracy):

“Are we going to use any of those big quilting feet you showed us yesterday? I was wondering if we can use a cool crisscross stitch on mine. Why does the machine say computer on it? I want two different colors of blue thread, one in the top and one in the bobbin. Why does the machine make that sound when you turn it on? I already moved the pedal so I can reach it. Oh, this machine was made in Sweden!”

And then it was time to take the first stitches.

I had her guide the fabric carefully through the machine, stitch steadily, and she did a decent job of keeping everything together. Then she started veering off course a bit. I had her stop and readjust. Soon she was doing it again and I realized she was staring at the metal gears and arms that move the thread through the machine and not at what she was sewing.

“What are you looking at,” I asked her.

“It’s fun to sew with the machine because you can watch everything work,” she said. “That part is going up and down when I push the pedal. It’s like it’s popping out of the machine to see who is sewing!”

We proceeded.

“Can we decorate the edge using that foot that you have to lower the feed dogs to use,” she asked. “The feed dogs are helpful. Thank you Mr. feed dogs.”

She had to stop to switch fabrics and for me to iron the seams. That gave her ample opportunity to poke around the nooks and crannies of the machine.

“Its cool that you have two places to keep stuff you need for sewing,” she said. “Do you like using the machine better or sewing by hand? I like that you can take a job that might take a month by hand, and do it in an hour with the machine.”

I agreed with her but shared that it was very cathartic (that’s fancy for soothing) to quilt by hand and that I preferred it sometimes. She agreed. “I really liked sewing by hand and making all the stitches on my quilt last year,” she said. “But I poked my fingers a lot.” She then put her finger directly under the foot and needle and said, “Look, my little pinkie does fit under here.”

Sigh.

She got back to sewing, attaching the flange to the main fabric of the case. “I like sewing with you better than sewing alone,” she said. (Go ahead and awwwwww now, if you so choose. I mean, serious case of the warm fuzzies here!) She continued with, “Did you like sewing with my sisters?” I said that I have loved sewing with all three of them.

One thing that cracked me up was her little sing-song repetition. Every time she finished a seam she would raise the foot, pull the fabric to the side and sing, “Raise, pull, scissors, open and snip!” Every time.

We took the finished case to the ironing board for a last press and she said, “The kid who gets this pillowcase is going to be lucky because this is my original design that will only happen once.”

If only there was a way to boost her self-esteem…

I am so glad that we took on this project. It really could not have been a better case study in personality and I loved all three experiences. I also love the pride that radiated off of them when we delivered the pillowcases. The lady at the shop asked if they had helped Mommy with the project. All three piped up “WE made them!” and they sure did.

We did it!

Dropping them at Quilt Country

Pillowcase Pitfalls and Perseverance

Today’s blog will share the experience of making a pillowcase with my oldest child. At the risk of shattering the image you may have of our Hallmark-commercial-like dream world over here, the sewing “got real” yesterday.

Now is a good time to talk about personality differences. Despite the fact that all three of my girls were 100% on board at the start of this project, the detail-oriented phase of sewing has really drawn out the differences in each child-and in myself, I might add. Whereas the six year-old was very attentive and careful, my fifth-grader became distracted and hurried. (I would assert here that she and I are wayyyyyy too much alike for this to have gone swimmingly!)

Initially, she was excited. She sat down, lined up the fabric, asked many of the same questions that her sister asked the day before, but was saved from having to ask more because she had watched some of our session and knew the answers.

She did want to know, “If that shows you all the different stitches that you have to use, why don’t you ever use those stitches when you sew?”

Good question. Why do we care that machines can stitch 25 different flower, crosshatch and heart designs if we don’t use those in our work?

“I don’t know…I guess I never think about it,” was my lame answer. 

She was not impressed. 

“I usually just use the straight stitch or the zigzag,” I said, and pointed those out.

“Well, if those show you what the stitch is supposed to look like,” she asked next, “why doesn’t that come out looking like a weird-looking, little, upside-down goal post?"

Well-spotted, but I had to explain that it was showing that you could stitch a straight stitch with one needle or run a side-by-side line of straight stitches with two needles.

“Oh…” she said, still not impressed.

I am not trying to color your perception of my kids with these descriptions, but it is well-known that this child would rather be out throwing touchdown passes or catching a softball than sitting indoors doing minutely detailed handwork, so we were on a time-crunch here.

So, she began to stitch. Knowing she craved trust and independence I took a step back and let her run with it for a little while alone. Periodically, I would have to guide her back or she would have to rip out some stitches and start again.

This was a much less-complicated pillowcase due to the fact that this is the most “less-is-more” kid we have. After finishing the flange and turning it right side out, she started giggling about the word “bodkin” which I gave her to point the corners of the flange (she giggled about the word “flange” too, come to think of it). 

After she composed herself, she handed the hilarious flange over to be ironed. I guess she shares the same opinion as her sister about kids ironing.

It is at this point that the experience went all pear-shaped. I was standing close behind her as she sewed the flange to the body of the pillowcase. When she had a little trouble with a particular part of the seam, I asked her to take her foot off the pedal as I tried to guide the fabric back into place.

“Stop for a sec.”

“Stop the pedal.”

“Stop.”

“Stop, stop, stop!”

I was a bit distressed at nearly having my finger integrated into the pillowcase, but we re-adjusted and kept on. After another rough patch of stitches, she shoved her rolling chair backwards in frustration. Right. Over. My. Toes. It hurt. Badly. I really wished I had been wearing shoes, but I wasn’t. I should have held it in, but I yelled in pain. She got upset and said, “I can’t do this!”

Pause for ensuing discussion about perseverance, commitment, work ethic, *pithy softball-analogy*, promises, quality time and dedication…

And we’re back!

She decided to finish the pillowcase and see the project through. The biggest selling point was that we were doing this for someone else.

Even with the hiccups, she was very proud that she finished and loves her pillowcase. She pointed in out to her sisters and dad, and she is looking forward to going to drop the pillowcases off at the quilt shop.

My take-away? That not every project is for every kid, and that’s okay. This was my grand scheme and they may not always buy-in. What I loved is that we did spend the time together and that we were both learning some lessons about life and each other along the way.

Six Year-Old Seamstress

Today’s lesson is as follows: Never underestimate a six year-old. Oh, and this is a long post.

Three days earlier…

The pillowcase project was off to an auspicious start. All the fabric was chosen, all the pieces cut. We were on our way. A whole long weekend stretched before us, full of promise.

As it turns out, it was too much time. The three days provided just enough time to lure us away from our project. The 65-70 degree temperatures didn’t hurt (I mean, it’s January!)

I guess even creative pursuits and blogs need their holiday breaks. We spent our time as we should have on a long weekend: we saw movies and concerts, spent time with family and friends, ate out and tried new dishes at home (shockingly, the braised kale and French onion soup succeeded where split peas did not).

Present day…

This morning arrived with a cold front and a return to our semi-regular schedules. After bustling through the work, school, gymnastics, homework, dinner, angst (I can’t wait for sixth grade if fifth is this fun) of a normal Tuesday, I determined that this project was going to be finished easier if we went one-on-one. The youngest child had the least homework so she was elected the winner of “Finish My Case Today” day.

Giddy may not describe how excited she was to sit down in front of the sewing machine. Our first exchange went something like this:

“I get to actually sit here?”

Yes.

“And do the sewing?”

Yes.

“And push the foot pedal?”

Yes.

“Heeheeeeee!!!” (Or something like that)

I have been naturally nervous about introducing the girls to “the machine” because they have small fingers. Small fingers that look like they would fit really, really well under the needle of a sewing machine.  So, I was a little apprehensive today.

“There are so many feet for this machine,” she said. “Why are they called feet?”

“Why is it called a bobbin?”

“What does that button do?

“Can we use all of those feet?”

Whew!

After the fiftieth time saying things like “watch your fingers,” and “don’t push the pedal too fast,” and “watch your fingers,” I got a stare back that was a mix of pity and irritation. I decided we were ready.

She started sewing the long strips of fabric together first. Slowly and methodically, she pushed the pedal. It took her about three tries before she hit her stride. At first, I guided the fabric as she used the pedal. Soon, she started to guide the fabric as well. Impressed. That’s the best word I can use. Even when she started to veer off track a little or push the pedal a bit too fast, she auto-corrected pretty quickly.

You forget how many things are involved with sewing a simple, straight seam. Foot pedal speed, lining up the fabric, watching for pins, feeding the fabric evenly-everything seemed magnified as I tried to show this kindergartener how to do it all at once. I was in control of pins, so every time we came close to one she would yell, “Pin!” and stop the machine so I could pull it out of the fabric.

At the end of the first seam, she faced her next challenge: what fabric to use next. She chose and started sewing again. After she finished sewing the last strip onto he rest, she laid the whole piece out on the table.

“I got it perfect because those two flower fabrics were on my skirt and they are together, and those two have dots and they are together!”

One of her favorite things about this project was using fabric remnants from other projects we have done before.

I had to step in fully at this point to iron all of the seams and square up the fabric. She was very sage, “I had a feeling that you wouldn’t let me do the ironing,” she said. “I mean, who would let their six year-old child iron? If I heard of someone doing that I would just freak out.”

So, please don’t tell her if you know of someone who lets their six year-old iron. I do not need the extra drama…unless you have a video camera and get the freak out recorded. That could be useful later.

I digress.

During the dangerous ironing process, she went up to change for bed. She danced downstairs in a nightgown and pajama pants I made her.

“Guess why I’m wearing this?” she asked. “Because you made it with your sewing machine and I am sewing with your sewing machine!”

You can’t argue with that logic.

After the pajamas went on, we started sewing, cutting and ironing like clockwork. She rotary cut (with help) and stitched and I ironed and pinned. I estimate she did about 70% of the sewing. There were some tough spots once the layers got thicker and the machine snagged a bit.

Finally, one last backstitch and we were, “Finished!!!! Daddy, look, I finished my pillowcase!”

She put it on a pillow to make sure it fit and observed “I really hope a girl gets this because of all the flowers and pink.”

One down, two to go. I must confess, though. The time, joy, effort, attention to detail and pride of this six year-old child is inspiring. The time we spent together was priceless. The ability to talk to my child about sewing with my grandmother at that same machine when it belonged to her was amazing. The fact that my child was learning to sew and making something for someone else was rewarding. I will not underestimate her and am just so excited to see what she will come up with each new day!