Happy Birthday, Made by Mommy!

That’s right, it’s sort of my birthday. Or anniversary. Or holy-crap-where-did-that-time-go day. I don’t know what to call it, but it’s worthy of celebration. One year ago today, I opened my Etsy store. I made a handful of aprons, took photos of them in my backyard and on the kitchen counter, and Made by Mommy went live.
 

The original batch, 227 aprons ago.

How do you measure a year on Etsy? Well, as of noon today, 5,792 people have viewed my store, 165 have been intrigued enough to “favorite” an item, and 79 have made purchases totaling 227 aprons, 6 puppet theatres, 2 sets of burp cloths and a quilt. I don’t know if these stats are good or bad compared with others’ experiences, but I’m feeling pretty great about it.

Seriously, I love Etsy. For a good chunk of the past year, I had a “real” job I didn’t love, and Made by Mommy was literally born out of creative frustration. Each sale reinforces that someone, somewhere, likes what I make. The feedback, thank you notes, blog links, and photos from people all over the country wearing my aprons are like little professional affirmations – which for a while there, I really needed to hear. 

Today, I don’t need the affirmations in quite the same way, but they are a reminder of something I take for granted. I tend to think that if something is easy for me to do, it must be just as easy for everyone else and therefore isn’t valuable. I’ve learned, and my customers have helped me see, that this isn’t true. It is possible to have a talent for something, enjoy it, and make a career of it. This is important to remember if you hope to love your job – doing what you love is possible, and definitely preferable. Just ask an actor. Or an athlete. Or a Mommy who gets to sew during the day, at least some days.  

Sew (haha) Happy Birthday Made by Mommy, and here's to many more!

And now I’m going to make a cake.

Are you looking for more craftiness?  Check out additional posts of A Crafty Mess over at Charlotte Parent!

Time to Slow Down

24 hours ago

Last night I made Amelia a dress.  No big deal, and actually not a particularly complicated or interesting dress.  As a kid, I imagined that one day I’d make clothes for my future children, like my mother did for me.  Other than a few Halloween costumes – which, full disclosure, my mother helped sew – this hasn’t happened.  I’ve just never had the time, or made the time, or perceived that I had the time.

Halloween 2010

Perception seems to be the key.  I’ve been "between jobs" for just over a week, and despite the high unemployment rate and statistically long average job searches, I’ve been running around like a crazy person doing everything I’ve ever said I’d do if I only had time, as though this time will end any minute and all opportunity to reorganize the pantry will be gone.  Yup, I reorganized the pantry. I also designed notecards, led a storytime, painted frames, made 12 aprons and 2 puppet theatres, wrote a proposal, applied for a job, went to an amusement park, got my car serviced, cooked, cleaned and caught up with the laundry.  All with equal urgency, and this is only a partial list.

So yesterday I received an invitation to interview TODAY for that job I applied for.  What?  Already?  In a panic, I had to make Amelia a dress.  You know, because I’d surely be employed again by this afternoon.

Are you wondering what happened?  Where to send the potted plant for my new office?  Or laughing because you know how this will end?  Right, you’re laughing.

Because with only six days between me and my last job, in the midst of a whirlwind of projects only a true overachiever could conjure, I’m in no shape to interview.  Not only because my interview suit doesn’t fit (it doesn’t).  Because I have no perspective.  I’m still too close to my last job to figure out what I’ve learned and how to describe it in a way that makes the experience valuable to a potential employer.   Until I have enough distance to look back with some objectivity, I sound like a rambling crazy person.  You know, the kind of crazy person who might spend every waking hour creating and completing a lifetime of to-do lists.

Needless to say, I do not expect a second interview.  So keep the potted plants for now.  There will be time for that later.  Really, there will.  And in the meantime, I’m going to slow down, drink a latte, gain some perspective, figure out what I want, and maybe make Amelia a more interesting dress. But this time I’ll enjoy it.  Quick, add that to the list!