Everyone, meet Molly!
My mom got Molly for me for Christmas this year. But it was my grandma who picked her out, with the assistance of my aunt. (Thanks, again, everyone!) You see, my grandma is quite the seamstress – she even made my prom dress senior year. And back in the 5th grade day when I was homeschooled, I spent one day a week with her learning to sew. It’s been a long long time since I sat down to a sewing machine, but there have been so many things I’ve been wanting to do for the babies that require one.
Enter my first project: a wet bag for cloth diapers. (More on my cloth diapering adventure later.) When I’ve been able to buy diapers for $5/piece used, I was having a really tough time justifying buying a $30 wet bag to hold them in, particularly when everyone said I should have two… So, I thought I would just make my own with Miss Molly.
I used to think that everyone had to sew like my grandma. She has a whole room dedicated to her craft, with cabinets of thread, tables to measure and cut perfectly straight lines, and a closet full of fabrics. But I realize that that’s probably not the case for most, and definitely wasn’t going to be for me. Instead I measure and cut imperfect lines on the floor, and push aside the salt and pepper shakers to make space on the dining room table.
From start to finish, it took me six long days to make this simple bag. Grier especially thought it was fun to play with all of the knobs and buttons on Molly… One time I sat down and couldn’t figure out what was taking so long, and then I realized he had turned my stitch length to the absolute shortest the machine would do.
I finally found my uninterrupted hour after everyone went to bed tonight to finish it, and I couldn’t help but just look at it and smile! That’s the best part about making something, be it food or craft. Pride. Always. Even after what felt like a hundred texts to my grandma, ripping out seams more than once, and sore finger tips from all the pin pricks, I did it.
This bag is so much more, though. As silly as it seems, it’s quite a symbol. Grandma texted me at one point that she just wished she could be here with me to help me get started on my new machine. But she was. Those hours upon patient hours sitting in a room with a ten year-old didn’t disappear. There wasn’t a moment I sat there trying to make this bag as perfect as possible without thinking of Grandma. This is what legacy is – passing along the tips and tricks that cannot be found in a how-to book. It’s the knowledge that comes from experience. It’s the love.
My bag isn’t perfect, but as Grandma said, my dirty cloth diapers won’t mind!