Homemade Friday: Washi Dress

Oh dresses.  You can never have too many home-sewn dresses.  And I fully plan on putting that mantra to the test.  Dresses are my favorite thing to sew and my favorite thing to wear.  They're just so easy, you know?  It's easy to throw one on and look halfway put together without too much effort.  Plus they're comfortable and look much better on me than shorts so they're perfect for summer.

This dress is the Washi Dress by made by rae.  I debated this one.  At first I thought that it would make me look somewhat pregnant, which I am not and have no desire to be or look like.  There's something about the gather in the front that put me off.

But I couldn't deny that I liked the dress.  I liked the neckline and the pockets and the sleeves and the gathered back.  And it was different.  It was still simple in that there were no zippers or buttons or anything that would trip me up when sewing, but it had an edge.  It had a design.

So I ordered the pdf pattern and printed out all the pages and cut everything out and taped everything together and cursed pdf sewing patterns and vowed never again to buy one.  (I've already broken that vow.  I am a fickle vow-er.)

I made a couple of changes to the pattern.  First, I lengthened the bodice an inch or two.  My thinking was that if I could lower the waist somewhat it would ease a bit of the maternity-ness of the dress and I think it worked.  I also think that if I hadn't done that the skirt would have started directly under my bubs, which, while perfectly fine for some, was not the look I wanted.

I also lengthened the skirt because I thought it was going to be too short, but it turned out to be an awkward length.  Not short enough but also not long enough, you know?  So I just shortened it back to the way it was supposed to be and I'm satisfied.

The material was from a big box store, super cheap and awesome.  It's a lightish brown with blue and brown flowers on it.  Would you like to see a close-up since you can't really tell anything from these photos?

The only issue I have with this dress now is that something went wrong on the sleeves.  And by that I mean that I've been lazy when it comes to arm exercises.  These sleeves are too tight.  They rub right where my arm meets my body and by the end of the day it is red and sore.  I think I can fix it, though.  I just haven't yet.  I'm too busy wearing it and suffering through the pain.

I made Chris take this picture after we had
spent the day cutting down trees and hauling
branches.  I don't think he was happy with me.

Conversations With Sebastian: Remember those?

Sebastian: Can people marry old people when they grow up?

Me: Well, if they want to they can.

Sebastian: Good.  Then I'm going to marry you when I grow up.

Me: Umm ...

(While I am incredibly touched that he loves me so much, I am a bit put off by the fact that he called me 'old.'  I am not old.  I am full of wisdom.)

(Also - aaaawwwwwww!  My baby!)

Motherhood & More: Kids aren’t alone in gaining skills through soccer*

It turns out I’m a soccer mom.

I mean I don’t have the minivan. Most of the time we’re late to practice and I forget water for my kids. But three or four days a week I’m on the sidelines cheering on little players.

My oldest has been playing since he was 4. He had a rough start because he got hit on the head with a ball and refused to go back on the field. At two separate practices.

But once he got the hang of it, he had a great time. He improved dramatically over the past year or so, expanding his footwork skills and scoring goals. He’s working on teamwork and passing now. It’s nice because on his team he’s an older, more experienced kid so now he gets to help the ones who haven’t played as much.

My daughter started this past fall and she’s a natural, provided she stays on the field.

Most of her first season we spent chasing her down because once she had the ball she would keep kicking and running until she met the fence surrounding the field. She mastered dribbling that way, so I guess I can’t be too upset. Plus I got some extra exercise.

With the younger kids, however, there isn’t much you can do if they choose not to play or decide in the middle of the game to run and give you a hug. And I like that because everyone is out there for fun so there isn’t too much pressure.

We try to instill in the kids that cheering for everyone and having a good time is more important than winning, and definitely more important than putting another team down. Yes, we want our team to win, but we also will clap when we see the opposing team perform well.

I played soccer very poorly in high school. I never mastered coordination, which is necessary for trying not to catch the soccer ball with your hands as it’s coming right at your face. My kids have some of my coordination issues, but they’re also young and are quick to pick up new skills. It’s amazing to watch them grow as players.

My daughter seems to be better this season in that she spends most of her time on the field when she’s supposed to be there. But there still are days when she has trouble focusing and thinks laying down in the goal is the best way to showcase her talents.

I knew I would enjoy watching the kids play, but I didn’t know how much I would love it and how much I would have to restrain myself from yelling exuberantly during the games. As it is, I am not so good at restraining myself. But I haven’t embarrassed the little players yet, so I haven’t stepped over the line too far.

My son has expressed interest in playing other sports that might interfere with the soccer schedule. While my first instinct is to keep him at this sport I love so much, I won’t force him. If he wants to do something else, great. I’ll just become a baseball mom or a judo mom. Or even a swimming mom. Or he might decide he doesn’t want to play any sport at all and that’s fine, too.

My daughter has an overabundance of – let’s say liveliness – so she loves anything that involves running around. We’ll see where she wants to go as she grows older. I’ve heard gymnastics is a good way to burn off energy.

For now, though, it’s rushing home to rush through some semblance of dinner to rush into cleats and shin guards and soccer clothes to rush to the field and yell and cheer.

I’ll take it.

*This column originally published in The News-Enterprise on April 23, 2014.  

The full monty*

My husband is running a marathon on Saturday.

It's not the wussy half-marathon.**  Nope, it's the full monty: 26.2 miles.  (Because the other 26 miles are nothing without the 0.2.)

This entire thing is not something I understand.

Okay, maybe not the entire thing.  I get the need to push yourself, to work harder than you've ever worked before to reach a goal.  It's just the length of this goal that boggles.  I mean, 26.2 miles!  I think I can run 2.  Maybe 3 on a good day. And I always push myself, I do - usually until it hurts.  (See yesterday's post.)

So I'm proud of him.  He's been training for quite some time, forever it seems like.  And he's dedicated, which is pretty amazing when you think about how awful it must feel to run that long.  He's gotten up to 20 miles because everything he's read said that if you can run 20 miles you can do the entire thing.  That's probably because after reaching mile 20 you're brain shuts down and stops sending signals to your body that this is painful so please to be stopping now because it knows you're not really paying attention anyway.

At least that's my theory.

We have to get to the marathon place super early on Saturday so he can get all of his swag and stuff, so the kids are staying with my mother on Friday.  I don't think they'd do well with the extended amount of time we'd need to be in the crowd, anyway.  I'd rather not deal with a tantrum-y 3 year old and her bored out of his mind brother.  Because apparently it takes time to run a marathon, like four whole hours.  (Even more of a reason why it is completely unfathomable to me. RUNNING FOR FOUR HOURS IS INSANE!)

However, I'm incredibly proud of the hubs for doing what he's doing because I see how much effort he's put forth.

And I'll be cheering from the sidelines because LOOK AT WHAT MY HUSBAND CAN DO!

*Made you look!

**In no way do I consider a half-marathon wussy.  Don't throw things at me I WAS JOKING.