It’s so hard to say goodbye…

I once cried over a shrunken pair of longies. My DH said he liked it that I treasure the little things. I, on the other hand, was having the sneaking suspicion that I had become a little bit obsessed. That’s another blog though, about sweet little boys changing little brother’s diapers so mommy can sleep.

First loves. The excitement, the passion, the newness, the challenges, the possibilities. Yes, I felt all these things when I clamped my hand on the first wool sweater I would ever turn into a pair of longies for my DS. My first-love relationship with sewing cloth diapers was just losing its rosy glow (I had only tried 10 patterns or so), and I was ready for a new challenge. The store-bought PUL covers were working fine, but so blah. I was putting off the whole wool thing because I didn’t own a single wool sweater to sacrifice to the cause, and wool seemed to be non-existent down south. I wondered if I would have to travel upcountry to find thrift store sweaters. And then one day it happened.

For the incredible bargain price of $2.00 I found the absolutely most perfect sweater to make longies for my DS. As I stood trembling with excitement at the checkout a fellow shopper commented on the lovely pattern. I said, “Yes it is, it’s too bad it wouldn’t actually fit me.” The she asked me if I was going to felt it. I grinned (not too broadly, in case she frowned upon that sort of thing) and said, “Yes.” I did not tell her what I was going to make out of it.

I could hardly stand that I couldn’t take it home and right away make something out of it. I hurried to throw it in the wash and see what would happen. It was all so magical! When my new love was clean and dry I laid it out on my sewing table…now what? I turned it this way and that, I flipped it over, I measured it, but I could not bring myself to cut it. What if I ruined it, wasted that whole $2 (I’m very frugal by nature), not to mention the perfect sweater print that it was? Then my creative juices finally kicked in and I took the plunge.

I cut my precious wool sweater. Now there was no turning back! It was all such a blur. Before I knew it, I had the cutest thing I’d ever seen to put on a baby. My mother, who always supports me in every creative endeavor, looked on curiously and maybe a little bit skeptically. Then, with more hope and excitement than I could bear, I put them on my DS. My mother was instantly won over. Who wouldn’t be? They were indeed the cutest thing a baby could wear. Somehow, not by my skill or knowledge, they came out exactly as I had hoped, better. Now the only problem was that everything in his wardrobe needed to match those longies!

They were wonderful. People who didn’t know they were a cloth diaper cover commented on the cutest pants they’d ever seen, and could I make them for adults?

Ah…first loves.

I’ve made many more pairs since then, some that I loved, some that were unwittingly sacrificed to the shrinking monster, some that merely served their functional purpose, but that first pair holds an immovable place in my heart. Sweet DS is growing by leaps and bounds and is still wearing that first pair, but they are difficult to tug on and off, and the southern spring is drawing near. What will I do with them? Surely they will not be cast of like so many unwanted treasures! Should I frame them and hang them on the wall? I do not know. For today I will enjoy watching DS wear them as he learns to stand and toddle, and scooch his way across the wood floors, sliding on the knees of my First-Love Longies.