They Call it Nesting

I have a sewing machine. Up to this point in my life I have been totally ungrateful about that fact. To my recollection I’ve used it twice. Until now.
Amidst the fabric purchases, new needles, thread and incredible left-handed sewing scissors (Finally something for my side of the world!), Tyler has been left to wonder outloud “why this sudden obsession with craftiness?” He’s not complaining at all, in fact I think he oddly likes this side of me. Just amused and maybe slightly confused. Me too, to be honest.

One day I decided I wanted to make a crib skirt (not that we have a crib yet…). I found some dang cute fabric at Hobby Lobby and after much discussion with the helpers at the fabric counter and a “simple” pattern, I was on my way. One full day of sewing and a half day of unpicking later, we had the “coolest” crib skirt ever. It is so darn cute!

Then I made a skirt (my waist had to be measured and re-measured for this one because I was sure there was some mistake – no wonder my hips feel broken!). And another. I own a double needle now and elastic thread, which I never even knew existed. I spent my fun money on fabric, and I was ok with that. What’s happening to me?