Tomorrow my nephew is getting married, and my parents and I are going to attend the wedding. Just in time, I finished making a Chinese-style robe for my mom, so she can look beautiful at the wedding!

That's what I was thinking, so as soon as I received the pattern yesterday, I started cutting the fabric. Although this piece of fabric, which she was reluctant to buy before, doesn't match my taste, I discovered its special quality during the cutting process. This fabric from Italy can be cut without needing to be overlocked, and it won't fray.

Last night, I finished cutting all the pieces to ensure I could complete it today. This morning, I still took a walk and had breakfast, and only after leisurely making myself a cup of coffee did I start sewing.

Surprisingly, this fabric is quite easy to sew. I was in a good mood while sewing the main body together, and then I asked my mom to try it on to see if the size was right.

Unexpectedly, this step raised my mom's question: why is the shoulder part sticking up? You should re-sew the back piece. I, who was originally excited to have my mom try it on, suddenly felt a surge of anger?

Mom? Are you teaching a seamstress how to make clothes? I anticipated that this comment would upset her, but I still said it. I also told her that this is just the sewing stage, and it hasn't been ironed yet. Once it's finished and pressed, any areas that look off will lay flat.

I felt my mom's dissatisfaction and my own displeasure, and I went back to sewing, with various grievances bubbling up. I noticed how these thoughts appeared in my mind, and everything felt very familiar. In the past, when I encountered my mom's nitpicking, I would also feel unhappy, but back then, I didn't know how to view it from an observer's perspective; I would often just go along with my emotions.

Later, because I needed to determine the button placement, I had my mom try on the dress several more times. Finally, she stopped "finding faults," but it was clear she was unhappy. I knew how frustrating it is for a strong-willed person not to have the upper hand. I'm sorry, Mom, I've decided not to indulge you anymore; otherwise, you'll continue to point out what I do and think you're always right.

In the afternoon, I finally finished the dress. After sewing on the last button, I asked my mom to try it on again, and this time she dropped another "bomb": why is the front sticking up? I don't like it!

I took a look; since the pattern is a loose A-line, this style will create curves based on the body's shape, and what my mom referred to as sticking up is actually this curve. Also, because my mom is slim but has a larger belly, it causes this curve to be somewhat unbalanced.

I patiently explained the issues of the pattern and body shape to her, and then asked her to take it off so I could try it on for her. When I wore it, the curve was there but balanced, and this time she fell silent.

As I picked up the model picture of this pattern, I saw that the hem looked the same as when I wore it. This is a cognitive difference! I showed the picture to my mom, hoping she would learn to accept different styles and broaden her clothing options.

Through today's process, I once again felt that family affection is like a river, requiring mutual maintenance and effort to keep it clear and flowing. Unilateral giving, although filled with love and expectation, often fails to achieve an ideal harmonious state. Just like the qipao I made for my mom, I poured my heart and time into it, but it may not necessarily earn her genuine liking and appreciation.

My mom's reaction made me realize that the exchange of family affection is not just about material giving, but also about emotional resonance and understanding. I tried to bridge the distance between us with my efforts, but I found that true closeness requires not just action, but also spiritual communication and mutual respect.

Family affection is not a one-way giving, but a two-way journey. We all need to learn to listen, to understand, and to respect. Only in this way can the river of family affection flow long and nourish our souls, allowing us to feel warmth and strength on the journey of life.

Today, I didn't try to do anything. I hope my mom can become aware of her own patterns. Although this process may be difficult, I want to take this opportunity to practice how to respond and handle things more wisely; I still have a lot of room for improvement!

The following is a fictional continuation of the plot, just for my own comfort:

Of course, I understand that what you need is a genuine expression of emotion. Here is the conclusion of the article:

As the afterglow of the sunset spilled onto the carpet in the living room, my mom put on the qipao again, and this time, she didn't raise any questions. She stood in front of the mirror, carefully examining herself, and a long-lost smile appeared on her face. I stood by, feeling a warm current surge in my heart. This smile was the best response to all my previous efforts.

I gently asked my mom, "Do you like this qipao?" My mom turned around, her eyes glistening with tears. She tightly held my hand, her voice trembling slightly: "Child, I like it, I really like it. You did a great job, thank you."

At that moment, all the unhappiness and misunderstandings vanished. We smiled at each other, filled with gratitude and warmth. Family affection doesn't need fancy words or deliberate embellishments; it is hidden in these simple and sincere moments.

I realized that maintaining family affection is not about how much we do, but about whether we can truly understand and respect each other's feelings. My mom's one word "like" means more to me than a thousand words.