Why mothers are important

This is a sad and sorry tale about my realisation of my own inadequacies. 

Whilst tidying through my wardrobe today I came across a shed load of clothes that I had forgotten about – I haven’t worn them in ages and there’s some really nice stuff in the selection.  “Great” I thought, perhaps I don’t need to go clothes shopping after all, which will come as a huge relief to my hubby!  Hang on – what am I saying?  What I meant to say was perhaps I don’t need to go clothes shopping tomorrow.  Phew glad I backtracked there, I was beginning to doubt my sanity for a moment!

I looked at each garment with a little excitement; it was almost as though I had been shopping as it has been such a long time since I had seen them.  Sad?  Maybe a touch so, but then I challenge you to find me a woman who hasn’t experienced this at one time or other in their lives. 

However, my pleasure was very short lived.  Each item I picked up I found something wrong with it; a button missing here, a hem down there, a seam coming unstitched.  Now I realised why I hadn’t seen them in a while – they were all damaged goods.  Now I am not the handiest of persons in the sewing department in fact quite the opposite, I can just about work out which end of the needle the cotton goes in (the end opposite the sharp pointy one I think) and that’s my limit – but hey that’s what mums are for isn’t it?  I don’t know why I had gathered them in my wardrobe instead of simply passing them on to her to mend them.  There must have been a reason, because believe me, normally I wouldn’t hesitate!

So, I got a very large bag to put the said items in ready to give them to mum.  I’m not taking advantage of her, she likes it really, she’s good at that sort of thing and it gives her something to do or at least that’s what I am telling myself over and over whilst bagging them up.  Maybe I won’t hand them over all in one go, I’ll stagger them.  Come to think of it though, whilst she’s got her sewing paraphernalia out for one, she can do them all at once saving her time getting it out and then packing it away again.  Great idea – yep that’s what I’ll do.  I’ll give them to her all at once.  Sorted.

Oh no, hang on just as fourth item was lovingly placed in the bag, I remembered that mum is recovering from a knuckle replacement operation. She’s got a pot and bandage on her hand and forearm!  Crisis!  I start with palpitations and minor breathing problems.  She can’t possibly mend them for at least 6 weeks – but I need them now!  It doesn’t matter that I have done without them for months, if not years, that’s not the point.  I have nothing to wear at all.  I was relying on these clothes. 

I sat down on the edge of the bed to compose myself.  Now then, what are the options available to me?

• I could wait 6 weeks.  Not a viable option.  Disregard idea immediately.
• I could take them to a seamstress in the village.  I would have to pay for the work to be carried out.  Again, I will forget this one.
• I could carry out the repairs myself.  Whoah – steady on girl – have you thought this one through properly??  I have a sewing box with various bits and bobs in for emergencies.  Admittedly I don’t know what half the stuff is in there – but I’m a bright, intelligent person, I can work it out.  Yes I can do this, I can do this, I CAN do this [deep breaths].

I couldn’t.  I tried and I failed.  I won’t go into the gruesome detail, but suffice it to say I am wholly inadequate in the sewing fraternity and I am thoroughly ashamed.  Don’t get me wrong I wasn’t totally rubbish – I did manage to sew a button onto a garment – it wasn’t very well aligned though and me being the perfectionist that I am would never be able to live with it. 

Why are skills like this rarely taught?  What happens when mums aren’t around to bail us out?   I must remember to ask my mum (when she’s recuperated) to teach my daughter how to sew!