The Dunstons: Getting My Craft On....

So, I am kind of a creative person, and it kills me not to have time or talent to make some of my ideas come to a reality.

My entire family is coming to my house for Christmas this year, and I have been determined to make home made stockings for each of the seven of us. I also wanted to make blank ones for future kids so that all the stockings would match as more children come along.

More kids? I don't know how I will do it, but I know I will. I am a bit of a masochist like that.

All of you who have more than a couple, my hat is off to you.

Anyway.

The only time I have to make these stockings seems to be between the hours of 8:00pm-1:00am every night. I know. I am nuts. But when I get an idea, I am like a dog with a bone.

If you have kids, you know that by the time they are in bed you feel like a walking zombie. All activities that require brain power are to be attempted at your own risk. It is also not advisable to drive or operate heavy machinery. Kind of like the warning label on all heavy medications.

So what do I do with my mushy brain? I try to figure out how to make stockings with my limited sewing skills, and a sewing machine. In my opinion a sewing machine is considered "heavy machinery".

Last night Aunt Stink needed a favor with her homework. I helped her so I could then rope her into stocking hell with me as payment.

We spent literally 2 hours trying to match up and cut 10 stockings. We were having the worst time making the right side of the fabric face out while all of the stockings had the toe pointing to the left. We were feeling like such idiots. This simple task took forever as we repeatedly did it wrong.

We were so frustrated and tired that we ended up laughing hysterically at our own stupidity. You know when you laugh so hard that you are weak and can barley move? When you are on the verge of peeing your pants? That was us. Two drooling idiots laughing over our stupidity at 9:30pm while holding stocking pieces. Let me tell you 9:30 may not seem late, but since I had Ronan I look at the clock expecting it to say 2:00am, and it says something early like 9:30pm.

John thought we were insane. We were. We ARE.

We finally go everything pinned together for the last leg of the journey. Sewing.

I have sewn a few. It is not going so well because as I said, my brain has oozed out my ear by the time I can get to working on them each evening.

I also made this a little while ago for Ronan. He loves it. It is perfect for his little hands, and he loves to chew on its arms. I call it the Mod-ster. Get it? Mod monster. Oh how clever. It is very primitive, but he loves it anyway.