You know you’re married to a science teacher when …
You discover more than a pound of nightcrawlers — in styrofoam take-out containers — in your refrigerator.
At eye level.
Did I mention in your refrigerator? If I weren’t pregnant this would make for a highly effective diet plan.
Good evening, internet!
i disappear for a week and this is all you get! Me, enjoying a beer (Canadian) and the work of William Golding (British) upside down (like Australia!) at 35 weeks pregnant (European) with a bad haircut (American).
So. Maybe I leave you hanging but then I spin you ROUND THE WORLD, baby.
Maternity sewing: the babydoll dress
I told otter I’d post it eventually! Also promised in my Sew Mama Sew post. Basically, I saw this dress at Old Navy and knew I could make a maternity version for myself.
Here are some of the details:
Drafted the pattern from a few different things, but mostly Simplicity 4111. Left off the sleeves; cut the upper front on the fold; no placket. Also added the maternity modifications I made to the shirt version, and ties, and many inches of length. Back was a combination of the 4111 back and the 3835 (view A) back, no darts.
Still needs binding on neck and arms, but who knows when I’ll get to that.
This might be the last maternity sewing I do for a while; the third trimester is KICKING my ASS and I’m exhausted. Although I do have one more version of this shirt cut and ready to go … it’d be a shame if I didn’t at least piece that together in the next six weeks.*
* SIX. WEEKS. Three weeks until i’m officially term. Holy mother of monkeys do I have a lot of things to do around here before this baby comes.
Toddlerese: Does Not Compute
This morning, while gathered around the coffee table. Owen has a plastic bowl filled with dry Golden Grahams in front of him.
Owen: Milk.
Me: You want some milk in your cereal?
Owen: Milk. Milk. Milk. Milk.
Me: In your bowl, or in cup to drink?
Owen: In a bowl. In a cup.
Me: Right. Which one, in a bowl *pointing* or in a cup, for you to drink?
Owen: MILK!! NO CUP. NO BOWL.
Me: OWEN. I will get you milk. That’s fine. But do you want it for your cereal or do you want it in a cup?
Owen: NO MILK! NO Mih-hih-hih-hihhhhh (commences wailing)
Me: DUDE. Fine. No milk. Whatever.
Owen: (high pitched screeching sound; full spread-eagled floor-pounding tantrum)
Me: (!@#%)
Standing near front door, while waiting for me to finish attempting to tie my shoes:
Owen: Milo [name of boy at school].
Me: Milo?
Owen: Milo. Milo. Milo. Milo milomilomilo.
Me: Milo? Milo what?
Owen: MILO.
Me: Milo?
Owen: Yes.
Me: Milo? Milo? Milo? MILO MILO MILO MILO—
Owen: Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.
Me:(bewildered) … Okay then.
While playing on the sofa.
Owen: (taking my face in his hands) MAMA. YOOK at me.
Me: I’m looking, I’m looking!
Owen: I yuv you.
Me: (melted)
I love you too, you adorable little weirdo.
Power shoutage
Yesterday started with two time outs before eight a.m. and went downhill from there.
Owen, sorry to say, was a pill. And then I went to work and several worky things exploded (figuratively) and I was two hours late getting home. And when I got home, the house was dark and it was obvious that there was a homicidal maniac inside waiting to slay me and my family.
Fortunately for me I have an overactive imagination; the house was dark not because of a homicidal maniac lying in wait but because the power had gone out, we figure sometime shortly after lunch. These damn high winds just tossed the hell out of my plans to kick my feet up and watch television.
We had to do all of the typical blackout stuff — cook dinner on the gas stove, read bedtime stories by candlelight, continually peer out the window to see if our neighbors had power yet, bitch and moan about all the electricity-dependent stuff we have to do. We were down to using a birthday candle in the shape of a 2 (which, of course, burned out during my meal) and staring nervously at the refrigerator, wondering what gut-destroying bacteria was now lurking within.
The temperature in the house plummeted, of course, so I brought Owen into bed with us so he wouldn’t freeze when he inevitably kicked off the covers. Iain’s alarm clock wouldn’t accept the one 9v battery we found, so he had no alarm for the next morning. And I am pregnant. Combine these factors and you’ll understand that the only person who got any sleep is under three feet tall and says “I yuv trash!” with some frequency.
Speaking of trash: One of my tasks this morning was googling “power outage refrigerator food spoilage” to see what needed to be pitched after 18 hours in a lukewarm refrigerator. The answer was a lot of stuff. The upshot, though, is that Owen is physically unable to be a pill while he’s helping take out the trash, so we had a pleasant morning together. The downside is that I had to spend more money, which is decidedly not in the food budget for this week, to replace many gallons of milk and cartons of eggs and whatnot. BITCHES. I blame YOU, Baltimore Gas and Electric.
Bah. Anyway. As I told the God I don’t believe in last night, I would gladly take another day of no power, as long as the trees in our backyard stayed standing. A 65-year-old oak through the living room would be way worse than rebuying perishables. And since I do not have a 65-year-old oak in my living room, I guess today is shaping up to be a pretty good day. I just have to go find a virgin to sacrifice to appease the electricity gods and we’re all set.
What has four doors and rhymes with … um, nuck?
Our brand-new family car, that’s what. Iain traded in his baby:
… a 7-year-old beaut that, regretfully, could only fit one carseat and no wifes.
But in return he got a smokin’ hot new four-door V8! And power windows! So he’s pretty psyched and I’m pretty psyched and I think it’s time for a family road trip.
updated to add: Oh! I forgot to say. It’s an 05 Dodge Dakota Quad Cab.
Pile of Craft
As seen on Ask The Sky:
Pile of Craft is a juried indie/alternative craft fair that will be hosted by Baltimore’s new Charm City Craft Mafia on June 23rd, 2007. The event will be held indoors at St. John’s Church, located at 2640 St. Paul St, Baltimore, MD 21218, from 10:00 AM until 5:00 PM.
Sweeeet.
Sew, Mama, sew!
Oooh! Supafine was the Flickr Group Feature on Sew, Mama, Sew’s blog today! Beth wrote some very nice things about my maternity sewing and Supafine itself.
I, in turn, am telling you to check out the blog as well as the fabric shop (closed for the mo’, sadly, but such a repository a beautiful things it is!) and, of course, the flickr group, which is mad-crazy full of inspiration.
Now, you go check that out while I contemplate finishing this maternity sundress that only kind of makes me look like a beached whale.
Photomonkey shows you the weekend in pictures
Photomonkey celebrates the end of Lent
My folks and my brothers came out to visit for the holiday. Yay visitors! This montage is a mosaic of pictures my younger brother shot; it pretty well sums up what we did, which was a whole lot of delicious, candy-coated nothing.
Hair hypocrite
Speaking of hair: Owen is now the victim of a home haircut. I’ll have to get a picture. For all my bitching about my own hair, I subjected my own son to a home haircut. I might as well break out the highwater sweatpants and tube socks and just doom him right now.
So. Last night. After noticing how his baby curls have a tendency to unwind and then kind of … rest there, on his shoulders, all Baby Mullet-like, I realized that Iain was right, the kid DID need a cut, and I couldn’t wait a second longer.
So I set him down on a stool in the bathtub and started chopping. I didn’t go so far as to put a bowl on his head and start trimming (as my father-in-law is rumored to have done to his own son, back in the day), but I can’t say there was much rhyme or reason or method to my madness.
But somehow Owen made it out alive, with both ears, no nicks and a visible neck, so I guess it can’t be too bad. And just in time for the Easter Bunny, who should maybe bring him some sort of hat. And one for his mother, as well.
recent flickr
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my sewing tutorials
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