I knit a sweater for Guac
From the pattern in Last Minute Knitted Gifts, by Joelle Hoverson, which I borrowed from the library because I liked her quilting book so much. Chosen because it was supposed to take less than 2 hours and because I would learn to do things like knit in the round and do decreases and finishing. It’s quite obviously a beginner’s work, but this is my first sweater. My knitting usually tends toward bulky yarn, size 15 needles and garter stitch. I’m learning and shit! Yay me!
p.s. This is Guac, Owen’s pint-sized imaginary friend.
Choose your liquor store wisely
I always make sure we go to the one that hands the kiddos a lollipop, just like the bank.
Now this is a sweet surprise
I’m 28 today! And while I kind of saw the black-yoom coming, the both kids in bed by 7 p.m. thing? Totally unexpected. Mama is going to go get her drink on and watch Season Three of The Office on DVD. Party time, excellent.
Sewing: my first swap
Or, this whole “craftblogosphere” is really getting its hooks into me. Soon I’m going to have to stop putting the “sewing” alert in my post titles because it’s going to be assumed. (So I realized the other day — although I have been sewing since I was in high school, it’s only within the last year that I have really ramped up the crafting mania. Guess what happened a year ago? I quit smoking. Let that be a lesson to you, smokers: The only thing between you and jaw-dropping productivity is a delicious carton of Parliament Lights. Um, and that baby you’re holding.) 
Moving on. The lovely Lindamade is organizing a patchwork and scrap swap and I’m in! Yay! I think there might even be a few spaces left, for those of you as crazy as I am.
I am just so excited to be in a swap. I’ve exchanged a lot of awesome mail with my psv internet ladies, but I’ve never been part of something so sewing-centric. And this swap I am particularly excited to be part of: The idea of getting a new batch of random bits of fabric — surprise! — as well as someone’s handmade work? Wow. So cool. The project is little (zippered purse, softie, things of that size and nature) and the scraps will be decently sized (3x5+) and I think a lot of the people participating have a great aesthetic. So. Yay! Good thing the attic is halfway put together and in usuable form again, and my machine has been rescued from the dark closet it was shivering in. And I must say, excellent timing considering the books I’ve been reading.
OK. Enough gushing out of me. It’s nearly 1 a.m. and I need to have some Cocoa Krispies before I pass out from fatigue.
There are no secrets with two-year-olds
Tuesday evening I went out to work. When I returned, all the boys were tucked into bed. A shopping bag in the hallway indicated to me that Iain left the house after 6 p.m. (wha?) with both boys (hrm?) to go to Target (shuh?) in my absence (!). Such an event was monumental; a first-time occurrence with a magnitude that would register on the Richter. He left the house, alone, with both children, after dinner. Huge. And yet I didn’t think to question it; we musta really needed diapers, I figured.
Well, the reason was crystal clear the next morning. Promptly at 7:01 a.m. I was jolted awake by Owen, who was still pink-cheeked and raspy and half-asleep, standing by my bedside in his pajamas. He gave the following monologue (without his usual antemeridian preamble, which generally consists of “I want cereal. And Finding Nemo.”)
“We went to Target with me and Daddy and Cormac and we bought a black-yoom and some diapers and strawberry fruit snacks and Daddy said the black-yoom was for you. And we bought the card and I signed it, and I wrote Owen on it. Oh-dub-you-eee-en and Cormac, he couldn’t write on it. He’s just a baby. It’s OK. But we bought you a black-yoom for you, but … it’s a supplize. I’m not telling you. I’m not! It’s hiding. Wanna go find it? Let’s go find it. It’s hiding. We should get it. OK! Come on! It’s going to be a supplize. It’s going to be someone’s happy birthday and there will be a cake and presents for me. And … c’mon! Wake up, Mom! Let’s go get the black-yoom and that can be for you. And a cake. I loooove cake. Are you awake, Mom?”
I just had to laugh. It’s like Telephone, conversing with your almost-preschooler. I can just about figure out exactly what Iain must have said to him. And I bet the first and last things were “DON’T TELL MOMMY.”
My birthday isn’t until next week, but I think the real gift was Owen’s near-manic excitement at having a very important secret to keep, and that the first person he wanted to share that excitement with was me.
sewing: whipup and project list
I’m strangely happy to see one of my finished works on whipup.net. I’ve been reading that site since they launched, and have gotten so much inspiration and so many tips there.
Also, I can’t remember what post it was where I was talking about my long “want to make” list, but I just found the notebook I wrote it in. Here are just the ones I wrote down — this doesn’t count the amorphous ideas I’ve got going on the back burner of my brain as well.
- knit-bottom zakka sack (finished! pic to come)
- easy sweater (knitty’s “tubey” — thanks otter!)
- lunch bag
- fabric box(es) (or bucket)
- smock
- favorite things “cute skirt”
- sew u buttondown shirt
- built by you wool coat
- quilted watchband/watch
- crocheted rug (started)
- granny square throw (started and ripped out … eh.)
- bibs for mac (bend the rules sewing pattern)
- ‘wee jacket’ (bend the rules sewing pattern)
- quilt of iain’s old clothes
- birthday gift for sister
- attic curtains
- chair seat
- pencil cup (inspired by sally)
- ironing board cover
- psv ornaments
Phew. Do you see why it’s killing me to have to wait to have my sewing room back?
Oh and hey. Two things I want to talk about: a quilted wristband for a watch (my favorite grommeted canvas one is rusting and moldy from having gone through the wash) and making a quilt of Iain’s old clothes — khaki pants and oxford shirts, a lot of navy and plum and taupe. Pattern ideas or suggestions for either of those projects? Just off the top of your head? They’re probably not going to get started until the New Year but I like thinking up a plan nonetheless.
Sewing room redo, continued
All righty, I made a little progress on my plan to pretty up the attic/craft room. As in, I managed to tape off the walls:
You can see there that china hutch thing. Glass doors. Begging to store something.
That’s the other end of the room, at the top of the stairs.
And this is the kind of craftsmanship I’m working with. Lovely.
Mac is unimpressed, as well.
But! On the plus side, I found some fabrics that will work with the carpet:
for upholstering things like this chair:
… which I spraypainted dark brown:
By the way, I did do several coats after the primer-smearing incident pictured above. Good as new now.
I also went crazy and spraypainted some other stuff—
— in anticipation of building some shelves and having a pretty little desk to decorate. I also started priming the walls over the weekend, but fuck if I know when I’ll have time to finish doing that. I motherfucking hate priming and it takes forever. Then I need to paint — I was going to use what we have, but we don’t have enough of anything, so I ended up buying a gallon of behr “Belvedere Cream”. It’s a cool beigey color, completely bland and boring and perfect.
And then I’m going to have Iain build some shelves and then I hope to start putting things back together. It’s seriously weirding me out, not having my sewing machine. I’ve been doing crochet at night to wind down but I don’t like that nearly as much.
Anyway. If you are into the whole home redo thing, other people do it much better than I do. See pinklovesbrown’s house set on flickr, for example.
This new kid’s a rabbel rouser
His name is Guac. He is tiny, so small he could fit in your pocket. No wait, he’s as big as a real boy. He’s two months old. He’s a working man. He’s a baby. He’s coming with us to the store. No, he’s going to stay back at the house.
Guac does many naughty things. He shoots rayguns at his mother. He squishes the baby. He fights with dinosaurs. Guac also needs to change his clothes.
Guac is friendly, Guac is mean, Guac needs a ride to the mall. Guac will pinch you when you’re not looking. Guac likes to live dangerously.
Guac is also invisible. Did you guess? Guac’s bodily functions are invisible, too. Guac is not ready for big boy underpants or peeing on the potty. Guac doesn’t get a sticker for his chart.
Incidentally, and I’m sure this is in no way whatsoever related, Owen has reverted to 100% diaper time, no more potty action. Could Guac be a bad influence?
I’m just glad 1 out of 3 diapers I’m changing is invisible.
Another home improvement project: The attic sewing room
This is what I’ve got. Long and narrow; under-eaves storage that is filled with camping gear and baby things; two dormer windows, ugly green carpet that has to stay because we are not made of money; two “end-cap” windows; stairs; one kitchen table, one ugly straight-back chair; many plastic bins of fabric; two coffee tables.
Not shown: the top half of this china hutch, in an 80’s oak hue, with glass-front doors; hypothetical bookshelf units or floating shelves; possible art easel or table-chair combo for kiddy craft area; metal filing cabinet to hold up one end of an Ikea square kitchen tabletop; hypothetical thingamajig to hold up the other end; a shitload of photos and picture frames.
Basically, I have to design around the carpet, using paint colors we already have (white, off-white, “tuscan beige,” neon apple green, and “falling leaves” orange) or spray paint, and furniture we already have, either from here or elsewhere in the house.
I will be re-upholstering the chair and sewing curtains myself. I anticipate painting the walls white or beige, since that’s what we have, and it’s a neutral that will 1.) go with the carpet and 2.) be a bland background for crafting and sewing and 3.) allow me to decorate cheaply with fabric or other things. I also plan to paint the existing hand-me-down/garage sale furniture, since its only drawbacks are that it is less than attractive and doesn’t match. If Martha Stewart has taught me anything, it’s that painted furniture can look nice. And that I will never have enough heirloom tomatoes, so I might as well not even bother.
So! That’s the upcoming project. I’ve cleaned out the space and reorganized all the closets up there and even started taping off the walls this afternoon. My sewing machine is packed away, which makes me feel a little off-balance, so I hope this won’t take TOO long, even though it probably will, because doing it on a shoestring (as usual) means extra creativity which means extra brainpower and I don’t have a lot to spare these days.
I stand corrected. Again.
Mac was a drooly ball of 100% sweetness yesterday and then slept all the way until 4:30 a.m. He must have been reading my archives and decided to throw me for a loop.
Last night I set to Googlin’, because the import of a comment that Kmel made finally registered in the oatmeal mush of my brain. Ding-dong, I thought to myself yesterday. Her three-month-old quit sleeping through the night, too. Maybe this isn’t just Mac. Maybe this is, you know, a thing. I scanned the archives at Ask Moxie, my go-to site for kids and sleep problems, for “three-month sleep regression.” Guess what? Turns out there’s a developmental spurt at 12 weeks and 4 months or so (if I’m reading things correctly). And also that these things can happen at slightly different times if your baby was born, say, late. (Which, as we all know, Mac was. Eleven days, 14 hours and 10 minutes past his due date, not that I was counting or anything). (HELL YES I was counting, did you see the size a’ me?).
And, something else I didn’t know: teething is a possibility at this age, as early though it is. And mac has, let’s see, nine of the symptoms of teething. Since Owen didn’t pop a tooth until he was about six months old, I discounted that theory with Mac. But now I’m bringin’ it back out.
These are two of the posts that pulled the chain on my mental lightbulb:
God, second children. Here’s baby Mac, eating pretty much hourly — chimp champ CHOMP — and sleeping like shit, and I’m all like, GODDAMN GEMINI BABY, make up your mind. When, in reality, he’s perfectly fine and sweet and cute and going through a perfectly obvious growth spurt, and it’s me, his twitterpated mother, who has the problem, and who needs to remember that not every adverse event is a personality indicator. My poor little MickMack. I feel like I should avenge his honor, or something.
recent flickr
-
my sewing tutorials
See my tutorials featured on SMS' Handmade Holidays!
