I don't think I've touched my Armstrong all week. Looked at it from across the room a couple times. Thought about it once, maybe twice. But right now I am up to my eyeballs in "other".
I FINALLY finished an order (two of two) that had been haunting me since the end of last year, and put it in the mail, away from my sight, thank you very much, check is in the mail. It seems I just had a plethora of shirt orders all at once, and along with other environmental issues (a moist studio to be exact) I just got burned out on the swank bowling shirts I was making. But now they are all done, and I don't have any on my order list officially, although i suspect a few more are in my future. ;) I hadn't realized how much it was weighing on me, getting these shirts done, and how much I was beginning to dislike the process. It's always that danger other crafter/business people warn about--when your craft becomes work, sometimes it's not fun. I suppose I had to hit that wall at some point. The key is what do I do when I hit it again?
And now I'm in a weird place--a friend asked me to create something for which I have no pattern. THIS appeals to me. It really engages the cerebral cortex and get's the juices flowing. However it also exhausts me because I'll think I've got it, and then I don't. I'm creating a hooded baby blanket that looks like a lion. I know, aaawwwww, right? Well, I haven't exactly found awww yet, but yesterday i definitely got closer. I should say, i picked the most difficult material(but also the most perfect!) to work with, and the first prototype looked more like a rabbit than a lion. So after a great deal of grumbling, swearing like a sailor, machine changes and then more swearing, only to return to the same machine i was using first, a nice Sade mix to listen to while i work, and the proper amount of caffeine, I'm on incarnation #2. When I walked out of my studio yesterday, it was looking like a lioness. I'm hoping the addition of a rayon ribbon mane will be success and also end this project for me. I think it's safe to say that I have no patience for projects that don't just come together with the snap of my fingers! I guess I've been lucky in my creative gene, but not in my patience gene. (hah! like i have a patience gene!)
On top of that I got the whammy this week. It looks like the local school district is going to designate my son as Autistic. Not that I didn't see it coming--but it's still a blow to the gut the first time you hear someone say it. And not that this is an actual diagnosis, or that half an hour with a school psychologist with whom my son wanted nothing to do is any indication of the actual picture my son presents. But we all know he's not where he should be and that it's bigger than a "speech problem", and that he needs every service he can get to achieve his full potential. I get that. Whether it's ASD or PDD-NOS, or any other stupid acronym they can create to strike fear into the hearts of everyday parents, he's still a phenomenal kid. And having seen tremendous progress in the last few months with speech therapy alone, I have no doubt he is gonna kick ass at whatever program they offer us in two weeks.
As you can imagine it's been a helluva week over here. *still is*
And drafting a sleeve pattern has really been last on my list. Still is.
And have I mentioned I've started a new potty training regimen? Like a glutton for punishment? (but my son HAS put together that sitting on the potty for a minute or more is the equivalent of ONE m&m, and he sees no problem with this. step one, check.--now, on to cotton underpants without complaint. We've decided that calling them underpants might be the problem, and are now referring to them as "drahws"--say it out loud and you'll understand. That hasn't made him want to wear them though. Reese's peanut butter cups has invited interest though...)
Lessons learned this week:
-Sewing for business can take the "fun" out of it. An outlet/creative push needs be found.
-There has to be a herbal supplement to help with "patience" out there, or I'm doomed.
-a kiss and hug from my son is worth more than any professional opinion.