Getting Martha Stewartized

Going domestic.  Not too many moons ago it seemed almost impossible, especially to those who knew me in high school.  I mean, I am the girl who under "Future Plans" in her senior yearbook wrote,    " . . . marry a sweet Christian guy who can cook and clean."

God apparently felt bad about not blessing me with domesticity, so nearly seven years ago I did marry a sweet Christian guy who could cook and clean.  And although Ben didn't enjoy it, he put up with me and helped me along during our first five years of marriage. 

But since staying at home last year, I decided I better get into domestic gear.  It is, of course, part of my job description, and I would hate to suffer a pay cut.  And slowly but surely, my dinners have transformed.  There are still days when piggies in the blanket show up on our dinner plates, but so do bowls of homemade tortilla soup, freshly prepared spaghetti sauce, and creme brulee bars.

Now that my meals have graduated from kiddie to young adult, I thought it time to begin a new tale on my domestic journey.  Recently I decided the time had come to graduate from sewing buttons to making (with a whole lot of help!) my first skirt.  Sewing?  Me?  Yes, it's true.  And today along with the rhythmic hum of the sewing machine, I felt like I could hear a beautiful melody being sung by the heavenly host celebrating my small victory.  Either that or it was the sound of them fainting from shock.

So Martha Stewart, watch out.  There's a new crafty diva in town.  And she's got a new self-made skirt and bread baking in the oven.  Well, maybe just a new skirt.  Let's not go crazy.
 
Corbin modeling my new skirt:

Modeling my new skirt with Hudson, one of my little sewing distractions .  . . er, helpers.