For the past 18 years, I have been sewing pajamas for my family for Christmas. As the family has grown, both in number and in size, this endeavor has grown as well. Exponentially, it sometimes seems! Yet, I can't really imagine Christmas without slipping into new pajamas on Christmas Eve. One year, Mom was living with us, and I surprised her with a nightgown, too. For years, we had opened presents in the morning, ate breakfast, packed up the car, and headed up to Mom and Dad's for a few days. When the boys were small, it was a great way to keep them from getting tired of their new toys before school even started again. After a while, it just came to be the best way to enjoy their break, celebrating Christmas, showing off new pajamas, swimming in their pool. And the sitting and visiting. Oh, how I miss the sitting and visiting--sometimes wearing those new pajamas right up until tea-time!
There have been years when I just couldn't get myself motivated to make them, until I realized just how therapeutic it was for me to sit at my sewing machine, candle lit, music on, one pile shrinking while another grew beside me. There have been years when we just weren't sure we could afford the fabric (sewing is not the frugal habit it once was--it seems to have become a 'boutique art' and the component costs have risen accordingly), even with coupons and sales. One year, I even made one pair out of old sheets. Somehow, though, we've squeaked by with the purchase during lean times, and even when time has been tight, it's all worked out.
Two years ago, we decided to try a ski trip with Guy's brother and family. I enlisted my sister-in-love's mother to get sizes for me so that I could surprise them pajamas of their own. Every time we get together, we get a Cousin Picture, and that one was particularly endearing. The looks on their faces, the snuggly warmth of a perfect holiday (despite a blizzard, and being so sick I couldn't get out of bed for 2 days!), begun with a bag of flannel and fleece.
Last year, Guy's sister's family joined us the day after Christmas, and I added another 4 pairs to my already humongous pile! What joy! What fun! And what a wonderful feeling to know that they had a gift from my heart--from all our hearts, when everyone's help with dinner and chores are factored in. With each stitch, I'm reminded of the blessings my family are to me.
This year, for the first time in all my pajama-making history, I'm working full-time. Still, I'm determined to continue our tradition. Time is tight; I have to make good use of each minute I have available, so I'm starting with the boys. Then Guy. If there is still time in the next 4 weeks, I'll make myself a nightgown, too. Many times I've been told that I shouldn't leave myself for last; that I should make myself as important as anyone else in my family. It always makes me wonder what is missing from the life of anyone who would say that without considering the joy I experience, the peace I come to, creating for others. Especially for those I care about, with all my heart.
Throughout the year, I see my boys in their Christmas flannels or fleece, and my heart swells. Not with pride, but with appreciation that they want to wear them. The best gifts to give are those that mean something to the recipient, but I think the giving is enhanced by being invested in that gift. Tomorrow, I will again have a nose full of flannel lint, and a wastebasket full of scraps.
And I will feel thankful for the gifts of life, family, faith, and love.
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