I’m not a runner anymore, but I can make one. I ran track and cross country in middle and high school — once I ran a 5:09 mile (thanks to a downhill stretch and weighing about 80 pounds). That was a one-time miracle; my usual miles were closer to 6:20–7:10. Those days are gone now — partly an old ankle injury, mostly laziness. These days I run only when I’m being chased or when I lose sight of the baby. But making a table runner? That I can do. You may have already seen a peek of this runner in a photo from Clara’s party:
This project was way easier than my big quilt project — a quick, confidence-boosting sewing job that helped me build some momentum. First I sorted through leftover fabrics from Clara’s weekly photo project and chose four prints that looked cheerful and mixed well together for a happy, mismatched effect.
I used an existing runner I had (one from Target) as a template. I folded it into quarters to estimate the size of each of the four fabric squares I needed, leaving about an inch of extra fabric on all sides for seams. That gave me a clear cutting guide.
I have a ridiculous attachment to my “good scissors.” I even labeled them with a Sharpie so John wouldn’t use them for chores like trimming branches or opening tough packaging. The note reads “no John cuts,” and yes, it works — he won’t touch them anymore.
Next I ironed each fabric rectangle so they looked smooth and neat. I had already washed them to prevent shrinkage, which is an important step for any sewn item.
I pinned the fabric sections together with the wrong sides facing out so the seams would be invisible from the front. A reader tip suggested pinning perpendicular to the seam; I forgot to do that this time, but I’ll try it next round.
At the pinning stage it looked a little messy, but I trusted that ironing and sewing the seams would tidy everything up.
After sewing the sections together the runner already began to look much better. I’ve had a temperamental relationship with sewing machines, but lately I’ve been warming up to mine — enough that I might even have a tiny crush on “Oh Brother,” the machine I’m using.
Then I pressed the seams from the back so they’d lie flat and look clean from the front. Pressing is key to getting a tailored appearance.
I also ironed the outer end seams to create a finished edge. I skipped pinning the entire outer edge because the baby was about to wake up and I wanted to work fast. I sewed those end seams carefully and slowly so they’d be straight; visible seams still make me nervous, but they turned out fine.
Within minutes I had neat, tailored seams on both ends of the runner. Next I handled the unhemmed sides by folding and pressing them down. Not pinning felt like discovering a clever shortcut in the sewing game.
Then I stitched slowly and steadily around the pressed edges to create a clean hem. My bobbin ran out halfway through — a perennial annoyance — but it didn’t derail the project. I found myself almost enjoying the process.
When the sewing was finished I turned off the machine, removed the finished runner, and gave it one last press to ensure everything looked crisp and tailored. Houston, we have a runner:
This runner is bright and festive — perfect for future Clara parties or other gatherings. It even feels a bit Easter-y, so it could work for an egg-dying get-together. Cost: zero, because I used fabric I already had. Time: about 45 minutes to an hour from start to finish, which makes it an ideal beginner project.
I’m far from an expert — I’m the water boy of sewing: I don’t know all the terms, I make mistakes, and I learn as I go — but experimenting until something turns out well has been a surprisingly effective way to learn. If I can tackle a simple project like this, you can too — and probably even better.
Psst — our baby-proofing adventures continue on BabyCenter today. Can you handle the excitement?