Life Interrupted

This post is not about the 21st set of Grammy Jammies. It was supposed to be, and I promise to get back to that story. But life has taken a sudden turn, and I need to take a short time-out.

I might as well get right to the bottom line. Ten days ago I had surgery that revealed I have stage-3 ovarian cancer that has spread to the lymph nodes. In addition to healing from that extensive ordeal, I am preparing to begin chemotherapy in a few weeks. The good news is that I am healing well at home now and making good progress. And I have felt the warmth and support flooding in from family and friends. It’s a new journey for me, but I feel ready to take it on.

I gave CaringBridge only a passing thought initially. That couldn’t really be for me. Those are really serious cases. Well, maybe that does describe me. But as time went by I began to experience the strong desire to keep those loyal friends and family informed. My brain swirled trying to keep track. Who did I tell what? When did I last update them? Did I send them that photo? I felt a shift. I could keep everyone updated at once. Send them to the single source of information. I’m in!

So I encourage you to visit my CaringBridge site here. I have posted several journal entries to catch folks up on the journey, so be sure to click on the Journal icon to get the full story (or follow this link) and scroll down. Note: You will need a CaringBridge account to access the site.

Meanwhile, I will work on getting back to that Grammy Jammie post.

Grammy Jammies Times 21

I’m now in my 14th year of creating Grammy Jammies. The grandkids wait with eager expectation at Thanksgiving time, knowing I will bring out the fabric bags that contain the newest iteration of Christmas fleece and footies. ”What color do you think they will be?” they wondered this year, inventorying all the past colors and designs. I never give away my secrets.

It’s a joyful mayhem, untying the bags, pulling out the contents and rushing off to don the new soft Jammies and present us with a style show. Karen’s kids were at our house for the festivities. Ben and Mya have self-selected out of the footies by now, but still willingly sport matching jammy pants.

Unwilling to miss the fun at Carl’s house, I made a special trip to Milwaukee for the presentation. I barely got in the door before they clamored for the bags. There’s nothing like hugging wiggly laughing grandkids in fleece.

That brought the tally to 7.

Not one to shirk my duties, I continued on to outfit the furry friends as usual. Many of them are the same shape and size, and thankfully they do not grow or change from year to year! I can dash off at least two of those in a day.

Now I was up to 14.

But this year there was more. After at least a year of not so subtle hints from the parents, I took on the challenge to outfit them as well. Even though jammy pants are naturally loose and baggy, I found that fitting adults was trickier than the forgiving slipper jammies on the kids. Especially when compounded by a rather outdated pattern that assumed we still wore pants up to our natural waistline! So I took a graduated approach, making two pair at a time, altering them after try-on sessions, and learning as I went.

Karen and Matt were my first guinea pigs, and thankfully they took my outlandish productions with a great deal of humor and good sportsmanship.

For the record, I managed to tame their pants down to more reasonable proportions.

I arrived at Carl and Chelsea’s house equipped with sewing machine and measuring tools. Fortunately, my latest revisions served me well, and their jammy pants required just minor adjustments.

By the time I got to Erik and Katie, I had the process down to a system and quickly modified theirs to fit.

The good news is that I now have six individualized patterns that should suit everyone for future years!

So that brings the total to 20 pairs of jammies this year. A credible effort, and weeks of fun in the process. But wait, the title says 21! 

Ah yes. Stay tuned for the next blog post to reveal the finale. (And no, I’d never get Rich to wear jammy pants!)