My son Forest lives for fleece. He sleeps between fleece sheets, weighted down with five fleece blankets, while wearing (of course) fleece pajama bottoms. He was born loving fleece, and it makes me wonder if, unbeknown to me, my womb was lined with fleece. In any case, when I determined it was time to make him quilt now that he’s the last man standing, aka last child at home (as in “where did the intense sibs go?“), I knew it needed to have a fleece underside.
And so it does! Op top, I used batik-designed greens and blues to match his name and his eyes, and lined various squares with a great musical note print to match his passions (at least one of them). As I sewed, I tried to relax into not worrying about his jolting, rocky and crash-and-burn at times adjustment to high school and being the only kid at home, but to sew into the quilt wishes for him. To believe in himself. To know how much he’s loved. To see all the changing blues and greens of the world all the time. To sleep well. To be fully awake in the world.
Last night, he modeled his new quilt and then, although I begged him to put it on top of the pile of fleece and other blankets, insisted on layering it between the fleece blanket closest to him and the many blankets above. He slept beautifully, and for the first time, maybe even, even made his bed today.