Gimme stuff

A new book called, Parenting, Inc is subtitled: How We Are Sold on $800 strollers, fetal education, baby sign language, sleeping coaches, toddler couture, and diaper wipe warmers-and what it means to our children.

Yikes. To think I wiped my baby's butt with a washcloth. And dressed him in homemade shirts and vests.

This led me to fantasize about a book called Quilting, Inc, subtitled: Why sewing machines cost $8000, how many quilting magazines can one girl read and why fat quarter packs have taken over my sewing room.

Quilting is wonderful. I've seen women heal their lives by finding a passion in making quilts. I've witnessed bonds formed between generations and deep friendships come out of this little hobby. I'm sure there are health benefits. Blood pressure goes down and seratonin goes up while quilting.

But there is a dirty little secret. The stuff.

It's all about the stuff. I like the stuff. I happily bought a new sewing machine this year and love playing with all of its modern features. Necessary? Maybe not, but what's the harm?

I don't want to go backwards. I remember when the only cottons available were pin dots and solids. Ugggly. I'm grateful for the industry that has grown up to serve us fabulous fabrics, rotary cutters, rulers of all sizes and uses.

But how can we keep up? New lines of fabric every season. Another block-of-the-month at the quilt shop. Another huge quilt show. Dozens of patterns and how-to books every time we visit the book rack.

The fact that one of the best-selling items is storage bins should tell us something.

Fatigue sets in and it feels like the stuff is running, not enhancing, our lives. Quilters go on fabric diets, making stash buster quilts. The stash goes down a little. A visit to the quilt shop and all our good deeds are undone.

Is this just the American way? Are we always in danger of too much of a good thing? How do you handle the too much stuff that George Carlin warned us about?