I come from a long line of bad ass seamstresses. My great-grandmother, grandmother and mother are all masters when it comes to the needle and thread. My mother holding the position of Chair of the Fashion Department at Pratt Institute for over 20 years, one of the most highly regarded fashion universities in the country. She’s legit. I, on the other hand, have never had a sewing bone in my body. The patience, the dedication, the in depth knowledge about fabrics, threads, needle size, stitch length…. my brain hurts just thinking about it. But when I became a mother some deep, ancestral yearning emerged and I said to myself, “It’s time I learn how to sew.” I think it was more a lack of sleep and postpartum hormones. Regardless, I was serious about this.
Determined as ever I signed up for a sewing class. After 3 classes I came out with a tote bag, pillow case and a whole new language; the fold, center front, interfacing, the bias, selvage, seam allowance, grain line, etc. Convinced I had it all figured out I skipped the last class. I mean, what else was there to learn? I dusted off Nonna’s sewing machine and got to work. I was planning on making this sweet little jumpsuit for my daughter. With the pattern, fabric, thread, ball point needle and rotary cutter in hand I got to work! 
My process went something like this……This is sooooo exciting, I’m really good at this. I don’t need any help….Oops, that was wrong……Wait, I think I messed up the whole thing. Did I? Shit. I need to go to bed……Ok, I got this….No I don’t…….I need to call my mom….Ok, I got this now for sure! It’s gonna be amazing. Look at the attention to detail, I’m so dedicated! Grandma’s gonna be so proud of me…….Wait. What. The. Hell. Is. This.????? 
Yes, this was my finished product. Take a long, hard look at the pants. If you haven’t figured it out, there is no crotch to the pants. I made crotchless pants. Have you ever seen anything like it? I haven’t. In fact my mother and grandmother, who have over 60 years combined experience in fashion industry, have never seen anything like it. I have no idea how I accomplished this.
And then, it hit me…a wave of exhaustion, frustration, disappointment, pride, disbelief, amazement topped off with a dose of rambunctious, uncontrollable laughter.
Sound familiar? This, my friends, is parenting. Every day I find myself overwhelmed, amazed, exhausted, uncertain and utterly in love with the whole process. I go to bed, wake up, and do it all over again. Each night I pray that I allow myself to be present enough to learn from my mistakes, ask for help when I need it and try not to focus too much on the end result. Because, it’s not what we do but how we do it, It’s not what we say but how we say it that truly matters.
Here’s to not taking ourselves too seriously. Not giving up when it gets hard. Not being afraid to call on our village for support. And to finding the beauty even in the most overwhelming and embarrassing moments of motherhood. Because the truth is, we can experience far more healing and growth when we share our challenges with each other. And, it can be a hell of a lot more funny.
If you’re wondering, I haven’t given up. I’m still sewing and calling my mother for help!
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