Finally . . . A Quilt for the Baby!

I've spent the last month or so just sewing away around here. The sewing machine has become a permanent fixture on the dining room table and I couldn't be more thankful for how accommodating Jesse he has been to it. He truly is wonderful and patient because we all know that where there is a sewing machine there are buttons, threads, bobbins, scissors and scrap fabric strewn about everywhere.

We did, however, have to have a clear "boundary setting" conversation where Jesse requested that my sewing stuff not migrate from the dining room table to the coffee table. The coffee table (as I now understand it) is an appropriate place for remotes, magazines, food and sometimes feet. That's it. No sewing . . . or at least it can't be left there. I guess I can live with that.

Well, my son now has his very own quilt. It's an oversized crib quilt (measuring about 45 x 60). From what I understand from other moms in my life a crib quilt is pretty much useless, but for some reason I couldn't help it. It just seemed like this child of mine needed a quilt from his mom. So, here it is. I'm justifying the time I spent on it by assuming I'll be able to use it to throw it on the hardwood floor in the living room or eventually we'll use it on his toddler-sized bed. We'll see. For now, it's mostly just for sentimental value, and I think it's worth it.

The fish print is an Anna Maria Horner print called Mendocino Swim Class. It inspired the color scheme, and this is the color scheme that I've decided on to compliment the khaki and white in the nursery. The quilt design is roughly based on the Lap Quilt in Amy Butler's In Stitches book. I think I'm liking how it all came together.

The binding gave me fits again. Ugh. I don't like the way it turned out. It's very possible that the severely anal part of me that I try to keep hidden away will come out and re-do it. So far the more logical side of me has been able to talk it's way out of it, but I'm not sure it will last. Beware, oh seam ripper. All it will take is one more snowy day and I'll find myself aggressively seam ripping away. I'll hate the process, but I might be very happy I did it in the end. We'll see how it goes.