(That's beside the point.)
Sometimes, I feel like I just shouldn't sew anymore. That the act of choosing fabric, ironing said fabric, cutting it up, pinning it, sewing it together is so difficult. Because I don't have a ton of time, and it's an *effort* to sit still at my machine and plug away at a project for two hours. Or I'm randomly interrupted by two little munchkins who depend on me to, you know, eat and stuff, and I lose my train of thought, and why should I bother starting something if it's going to take me weeks (or months) to finish.
But I still enjoy it immensely when I get to it, which is why I still do it. And I know that my kids won't be small forever and need me for everything. And sometimes, when I set aside to make something that's been stewing on my to-do list for awhile (ahem, I don't think that's the correct word choice for two years, but I'm going to go with it.) And when I see the face that the recipient makes when I tell them that this is indeed for them, well, that makes it all worth it.
And of course, there's the fact that I made a backpack. That's pretty spectacular!