So, I can’t sew. So what?

Does anyone remember the scene from Father of the Bride (the remake with Steve Martin) when Annie temporarily calls off the wedding because Brian gives her a blender for their eight-month anniversary? I can so relate. Not because Jared ever gifted me a blender (we’ve talked about it before; he’s not going there), but because the thought of my significant other giving me a gift that directs me to the kitchen makes me incredibly nervous.

I’ve spent most of my adulthood balancing a love-hate relationship with traditionally domestic activities. On the one hand, I feel an unexplainable pull to take on certain tasks (cleaning, organizing and cooking kinds of things), but I think I went so many years with school and jobs at the forefront of my brain, it made me super apprehensive about getting stuck doing anything that went against that career-driven mindset. Basically, I never wanted to be told that my place was in the kitchen, but I also didn’t want to be told that I couldn’t be there if I wanted to. So when we were dating in college and Jared casually mentioned that I just wasn’t the domestic type (which he was totally fine with), I went a little bonkers. I decided that for Christmas that year, I would surprise him with a gift that was 100 percent outside my comfort zone. I was going to sew him a quilt. How’s that for domestic?

I had absolutely no idea where to start, so my mom (who can be a pretty snazzy seamstress when she wants to be) went with me to the fabric store to get all the supplies. Then she set me up on the sewing machine, gave me a few pointers and let me go to work. I was determined to do this thing on my own, and I can only imagine what was going through my mom’s head every time she came down to the basement to find me angrily toiling away on that ridiculous gift. I say angrily because I was, indeed, angry. Every square and every stitch was excruciating. Seriously, I hated every minute of it. But by that point, it was a challenge, and there was no way I would let that stupid quilt beat me.

So I worked and worked until finally I reached the finish line. My mom came down to see the finished product, and I proudly displayed the work that I had grudgingly poured every ounce of energy into for the past three weeks. She complimented my straight seams and the pattern of the squares. Then I picked up the quilt off the table so we could get a better look. This quilt, meant to be large enough for grown-up guy, stopped just shy of 4 feet long. When I measured out those 6-by-6-inch squares, I didn’t take into account extra space for the seams. So basically what I had for Jared was a handmade baby blanket. I could have laughed or cried. Thank goodness my mom laughed first.

After that whole ordeal, I vowed never to put myself through that kind of torture again (kudos to all those who have the talent to sew such beautiful things that take so much time and patience. It really is amazing what some people can do with a needle and thread.). I went a whole year without feeling the need to tackle another domestic activity — until, that is, I discovered knitting.

For the first few weeks, I was hooked. But once I had successfully completed two scarves, I was ready for more of a challenge and decided to take on the mother of all knitting projects — an afghan. I attacked this thing full force, determined not to have a repeat of the quilting fiasco. For three solid months, I was a knitting machine. But then the fall semester started up. Then the spring semester. Then the next year. Then I graduated. Then I started grad school …

Four and a half years later, I have made zero progress, and I still feel a certain sense of failure every time I see that baby-sized quilt and the half-finished afghan. But no more! I have decided that my relationship with knitting will never really be over until I finish what I started, so I am pledging to complete the years-long project by March. Yes, I am giving myself a deadline. And I wrote it on my calendar, too, so it’s totally official. Come the first day of spring, I will be happily wrapped in an afghan of my own making. Or I will be crying in the corner. Here’s hoping it’s not the latter.

I’ll keep you posted on my progress. In the meantime, do you have any projects that have fallen by the wayside? Anything you started forever ago and keep meaning to get around to finishing? Feel free to jump on board the finish-this-crazy-thing-for-once-and-for-all train. I’d love the company!

XO,
Katrina