Somewhere in the wild miasma that was last summer, Kelly spent $3.50 on remnants at the fabric store and announced she wanted to make a quilt. I informed her it would be a “very small” quilt with only $3.50 worth of fleece, but that didn’t bother Kelly.

Piecing plan #1

Despite being in a cramped, awful, haunted apartment, we cut the squares. It seemed like an easy enough project, even for our abbreviated space (and you might be wondering why I didn’t put my machine and quilting supplies in storage, but one must never be caught off guard without one’s quilting supplies. Always.be.ready.to.sew.a.blanket. This is just good planning.). But as I mentioned, that apartment had supery-dupery bad luck, and the cat jumped on my machine and broke the table. Into a storage bag went Kelly’s squares.

Piecing it all over again after the move.

But what Kelly lacks in luck, she makes up for with patience. She reminded me again and again after moving those squares survived the trip. Alas, her bad luck streak continued, and she lost her favorite blankie. WHERE ARE YOU ICE CREAM BLANKIE?! No. Seriously. Where the hell are you? I cannot rip apart one more inch of this house. One more week, and I’m thinking of looking behind drywall. Hey! I know a great blankie-disaster-distraction! Let’s make a NEW blankie!

Teaching her to pin the front to the back, with the batting in the middle.

Kelly sat at Peter Pan (our machine) and helped me piece the top. As my own, little personal mini-me, the critiques for my methods were generously doled out throughout the process. I finally kicked her out and told her to trust me. We went ’round and ’round about the backing. AND AROUND WE WENT. She wanted NEW material, and I wanted FREE, I-ALREADY-OWN-IT material. One evening we got into an unrelated debate regarding the rules in her favorite game (Scrambled States), and she bet me. Rookie mistake; never make a bet with Kelly. You’ve been warned. I lost, and I had to buy her whatever fleece tickled her fancy. Luckily Goomommy was on that errand, and she happily spent the $7 on this bright Duck fleece which in no way matches the quilt top. Goomommies don’t care! They are all love! Plus, she watched me lose the bet, and either she was amused by my loss, or maybe it was pity. Either way, I let her use my coupon, because she’s awesome.

This takes forever, Mommy!

Because of the latest quilt project of my own, I had some super high-quality batting for the middle. Kelly was having none of it. Quilts have a middle? [Insert days upon days of Kelly-quilt critiquing.] I assured her I knew what I was doing. A thick, cozy quilt is way, way better than 2 pieces of fleece sandwiched together.

Free-motion gloves: best $6 ever spent in quilting supplies.

As I haven’t free-motioned in years, I did this without Kelly’s assistance (but not without her input…SO MANY THOUGHTS out of this one). My work is not so great, but it’s not horrible. Considering how out-of-practice I am, I’m giving myself some grace on this one. Free-motion is HARD, which is why the pros use computers. Fleece is so forgiving…thank you Jesus.

Now we must take all the pins back out. While snacking, apparently.

We chose the binding long ago, using pieces left over from Kelly’s last blanket project, but when it came time to finish it, Kelly begged me to use an 87 cents remnant of satin she bought on her last trip to the fabric store. If there’s a useless, odd-colored remnant anywhere in this state, Kelly has a coupon for it. Bargain bin cream satin. Alright then.

But we don’t want to waste this precious satin! It’s my favorite!

She’d already chopped away it, making wedding clothes for her stuffed animal wedding. Huh. This should be interesting. I took notes in quilting class. I can piece binding from scraps. I think.

Shoot…me…now…

Let me clarify: I can piece regular binding. Piecing the world’s most slippery, most shred-friendly binding is another matter. I joked earlier it was like performing open heart surgery on a Fraggle. Mere gravity unravels this stuff. For 87 cents, what do you expect? I had to zig-zag both sides of the 130 inch binding, just to hold this stuff in my hands. All projects have their special surprises, which is probably better-named, “my learning curve”. I threw it down, and went searching for the original binding plan. Kelly stepped in, and that smarty pants asked, “You’re not giving up are you? You can do it. You just have to keep trying.” Great. A life lesson for my child, served elegantly on a platter. I picked the tattered mess back up and tried again.

Better. Tedious, but much better.

On her way to bed, Kelly had plenty to say about the quilt being too thick, and not “bendy” enough to be useful. Sara told her to shut her ungrateful trap and go to bed  (thereby earning Sara another day of food/shelter/unconditional love). As I tossed my 5th spool of thread on the machine, I silently cursed this project. Kelly’s designs are HARD. Some are flat out IMPOSSIBLE (unless you have the formula to create a portal that will take her into fairy-land, which I DO NOT). As I placed my hundredth pin into that devilish satin, I had a childhood flashback: I had a blanket once. It had dogs on it, and it was blue and green, with the world’s most perfect satin border. When I turned 6, my parents decided it was time for me to let go of my security blanket, and it was “forgotten” on a family vacation. People did that kind of thing in the 70’s. I’m sure my kids will look back on the silly things I’ve done, roll their eyes, and wonder how they survived.

As God as my witness, I was going to finish that motley thing. Just finding thread that remotely matched was a neat trick. I ran through every inch of light pink, white, cream, and yellow I have. I was so close on the binding, I didn’t have a half a centimeter of satin to spare. But devotion is a tough cookie to crack, and at 10:30 pm, I crept into Kelly’s room and tucked this new lovey under her chin. You could pass a tornado over Kelly and she wouldn’t wake, but her eyes opened and she said, “It’s done? It’s so COZY and perfect. I love it Mommy. Thank you.” In a fraction of a second, she was sound asleep, but next to her I found a contract she wrote earlier in the day. Wrapped in fabric scraps was a “blanket promise contract”, swearing she’d always love this blankie, and she would take it to college. It was signed, stamped, and sealed in an envelope and fabric…so it’s official.

You’re welcome Kelly Eleanor Boo Boo Chicken Brave Mimi Bunny. And when you pack this lovey and head off to college, remember to pack me too. One day without you is just one too many…