Well, not really sewing. What John and I are doing is folding a piece of fabric in half and stiching around the three sides.
He wanted to make a quilt for Chang, his stuffed doll.
I was in a mood where I could bestow immediate gratification, so when he said he wanted to do this, we drove 30 miles to the nearest fabric store, dropped some cash and came home with pink "Fossil Fern" fabric, a spool of hot pink thread, some needles and a tomato pin cushion with a strawberry needle-sharpener.
It was fun to watch him decide which fabric he wanted. Since it was a quilting shop, the fabrics were organized by color, and he went straight to the pinks.
I learned how to sew and stitch from multiple sources with a variety of success. My mom taught our 4-H group how to embroider and I still have a love for cross-stitch, although I haven't done it in years. My eighth-grade home ec class had a sewing component. I didn't do so well in that.
What we're doing is simple. An up-and-down stitch, the correct name of which I can't remember. John's patience and dedication have, frankly, surprised me. The first side were doing has the side of fabric that was attached to a frame for printing. There are tiny holes every half-inch along the side, perfect for following. He will sit, nearly breathless, and try to get that needle in the hole as I hold the fabric taut for him. Even if it's one thread off, he'll pull it out and start again.
The night we started, we caught the thread in a stitch and had to take out a stitch or two after we discovered it. Now every so often he says, "Let's check the back of my work!" and turns the blanket over.
I don't know how long his interest will hold, but I do know I will never forget his head bent over the fabric; his expression, somehow both intense and relaxed at the same time as he finds the hole; his excitement: "Let's see how far I've sewed!"