Not Martha.

Around Christmas, The Goo took a marker to my white chenille slipcovers. I hyper-panicked. Then quickly grabbed the marker out of his purple, chubby hand and let out a deep breath as I read the most reassuring word: erasable. A week later he took a black Sharpie pen and filled that old white chenille in like it was a blank canvas. Tim asked him in a stern voice, "Did you write on Mommy's chairs?" The Goo shrugged. These slipcovers have been showing their age for a while now but I had been hobbling them along until I could muster up enough nerve, time and energy to make new ones. I made the original pattern and covers when Ivy was just a year old. The process is a horrid pain in the ass. So I have patched, gathered, scrubbed, bleached, soaked and stitched the hell out of these slipcovers through four years, three kids, two adults, two cats (now deceased), some rather uncouth guests who sat there pulling out the chenille while talking (HELLO???? It doesn't grow back, assholes!) and hundreds of washes. When The Little Girls were invited to the Sweetheart Sleepover, I knew I needed to dig deep, find some bravery and at the very least cut out the pattern and pin the pieces together. But I got further than I thought and the process seemed like it was coming together nicely so I started to sew it together with my serger. The serger did great until it didn't (and currently I have not a clue how to fix it). So I got out my regular sewing machine and started up again. The pieces went together perfectly and you know I was really patting myself on the back and winking to myself until the gathering tape broke (look, I know some of you have not a clue about sergers or gathering tape, but believe me when I say "serger" and "gathering tape" I am talking about two VERY helpful upholstering tools) and I lost the strings (think of the most complicated re threading of a string in a hoodie or sweatpants, and then times that by F&*$ and you'll comprehend what I'm saying here). Here is the point in the slipcover-making process where Tim is hiding from me and The Little Girls are home from the party, wishing they weren't, and praying Mommy finishes this project so this terrible mood she is in is behind us and just a horrid little memory. Tim sees the fear in The Littles eyes and takes them to the park. I YouTube a video about gathering with a basic sewing machine. The seamstress shows me the most magical trick, I try it out, IT WORKS! At midnight I am finished. I put the covers in the washer and dryer to de-lint. I put the slipcovers on the chairs...one is 3...THREE! inches shorter than the other, ugh. Luckily an easy fix thanks to a gross overestimate when ordering yardage; take off shorter skirt, cut a new skirt, use magic trick, sew to slipcover. Now the new skirt is only 1 inch shorter than the other. Who cares. Martha Stewart I am not. It will likely start to bother me in a day or two. Right now I feel as if a terrible storm has passed through my brain, my family and my house. The calm has come. Time to celebrate a finished project.