Mother's Day

Many times, and for many people Mother's Day is not the ridiculous, greeting card smooshfest that we are taught to expect.

We're supposed to have well behaved children who lovingly bring us breakfast in bed with a side of diamonds.  

And when that doesn't happen, oftentimes we feel like something is lacking.

A few years ago I had an incredibly rough Mother's Day.  It was my first one as a parent of two children, and it followed the hardest few months of my life.  I had been struggling with depression, but didn't realize it.  I just figured that I wasn't very good at the whole mothering, stay-at-home thing and needed to suck it up and grow a pair and pull up my big girl panties and all that motivational crap we tell ourselves when life gets rough.

So that year when my husband picked me flowers and made me breakfast and did not get me a present because we were broke and that money would be better spent on things like food, I felt like I wasn't appreciated.  I felt like he didn't understand how hard everything was for me and was glossing over everything I did as Mama.

Obviously that wasn't true.  Obviously I had issues with myself and just projected them onto my poor husband.  I will forever cringe over the memory of that Mother's Day.

I no longer feel like I did that year.  Parenting two children is still extremely difficult, but my head is in a better place and I don't want or need a special, store-bought gift to show me that I am appreciated.

You know what I want?  I want the pancakes my husband made for me.  I want all of the handmade cards and notes my children created.  I want the hugs and kisses and time.  I want to make cakes and desserts for my own mother and mother-in-law.  I want to show those mothers that I appreciate and love them.

I want my rowdy, dirt-covered children to act just like they always do because that is who they are and why I love them.

I want to spend the day with extended family, cooking together, eating together, laughing together.

And I want to end the day with my oldest child comforting the storm-scared youngest by letting her lay in his bed and teaching her rock-paper-scissors.

And yes, there was a nice, store-bought gift.  But it pales in comparison to the rest of the gifts I was given on Mother's Day.

(I'm wearing the newly-shortened Washi Dress! MUCH BETTER!)

Homemade Friday: The Great Pink Washi Maxi Dress

I honestly still can't decide whether I like this silly thing or not.

In my defense, this pink, denim fabric was not my first choice of fabrics but it was the only one I had enough of, and last Friday, when I sewed it, I didn't have a car to go buy more.  (Plus my craft closet is overflowing with fabric that desperately needs to be used so I didn't want to buy more.  At least that day.  I will probably lose that resolve soon.)

I'd stolen the fabric from my mother, who had it since my sister was pregnant with my nephew.  He's 17, almost 18 in case you were wondering.  Mom had bought it to make a pair of maternity overalls for Courtney, and I can only assume that they were a bit put off by the inherent pinkness of it.

So I thought eh.  Why not?  

Because of course I did.

Actually, once I figured that my original fabric choice was lacking in a couple of yards, I pulled this one out and asked facebook what they thought.

It got a positive reception, although I was told I'd have to 'accessorize' it, which I am not the best at.  But I forged ahead anyway because I am determined.

Also I haven't learned that when there are reservations at the beginning of a project it's best not to waste my time.  Go with your gut, you, is what I'm saying.

I lengthened the bodice, as I did with the other Washi dress I made.  But I made this one sleeveless with a scooped neck as opposed to the U-shape that shows of the cleavage expertly.

The gathering in the back of this dress was the most frustrating thing I think I've done with sewing in a really, really long time.  Apparently lightweight pink denim does not want to be gathered and will show it's irritation at you trying to make it gather by breaking your elastic thread.  Over and over and over and over again.

It took me over an hour to do something that should have taken 15 minutes, AT MOST.

I had to put the dress away after the kids got home from school, but picked it up after they went to bed, so it was done Friday night.

I only tried it on to hem it (I enlisted my husband to put a pin where I wanted the hem to fall.) but I still wasn't sure.   I saved my final judgement until I could put it on in the light of day.

Here is what I saw:

I mean, it's okay I guess.  But part of me feels like it's almost "Little House on the Prairie"-like, you know?  Except it's pink and they probably didn't wear dresses that ... well ... pink because colors that saturated usually mean a person is of ill repute, right?  So maybe it's "Little Whore House on the Prairie."  Or "Little Not Proper House on the Prairie."  Or "Little Who Does She Think She Is House on the Prairie."

As I mentioned yesterday my husband told me I looked like I was going to a wedding, and I actually think that was him trying to think of something nice to say because otherwise he would have said that it just looked silly.

I think it would have looked better if I hadn't lengthened the bodice, actually, but I'll be damned if I'm tearing it out to change it because then I'd have to redo the gathering in the back and I don't have enough energy for all the cursing that would entail.

So I don't know.  Maybe I'll keep it like this, maybe it'll look better black.  Maybe it just needs a belt and a giant necklace.  Maybe I'll donate it to Goodwill.

Maybe I'll wear it to a wedding.

Me-Made-May 2014

Have you heard of this?

Maybe not as I'm not sure how involved in the sewing/making stuff blog realm I am.  It's a pledge you take to wear something handmade every day of the month of May.

I didn't officially sign up as I didn't know there was an official sign up so I don't feel quite so bad about not exactly meeting that goal.

However, I do want to attempt it.  I like the idea of handmade things, as you can probably tell.  I like knitting and sewing and making jewelry and creating pretty things with my own two hands.

I'm a bit late in the game, but here we go.

I, Jaime Thomas, otherwise known as jaimalaya, sign up as a participant of Me-Made-May 14.  I endeavor to wear something handmade at least four days a week for the duration of May 2014.  

That sounds like an attainable goal, right? Plus it also gives me an excuse to sew myself some shirts.  And some skirts.  And some easy-to-sew/wear items.

At some point in the future (near or far?  Probably far) I hope to attempt sewing jeans.  I think I can do it with tutorials and guides and most definitely help from my Mom.  But that won't be this month so forget I said anything about it.

So far I've done well-ish with my handmade goal.

On Thursday, May 1, I wore the green scarf shown in the post on the vintagey Butterick Dress.  Here is a poor, blurry, upside down photo of it.  But it's up close and true-to-color!

It's the Clarendon Scarf from Knitpicks knit in City Tweed DK Enchanted.

Friday, May 2, I spent most of the day sewing a maxi version of the Washi Dress to wear to a Derby party, so as I was making something for me I didn't think I actually had to wear something I made.  Yes, it's flawed logic.  But I'm awesome at flawed logic so just go with it.

Here is the dress I made:

I was unsure of the pink fabric before I started but facebook told me to go with it and I always listen to facebook.  And when I was done I was still unsure of the pink. And so my husband sealed the entire dress fiasco by telling me I looked like I was going to a wedding.  He didn't say it in a positive manner so I think I'm just going to dye it black.

So on Saturday, May 3, instead of the dress I wore this shirt:

I love, love, love, love this shirt.  The fabric (TINY UMBRELLAS!)!  The design!  My first t-shirt I've ever sewn!  It's the Renfrow top from Sewaholic Patterns and I have plans to make many, many different versions of it.

Here's a picture of me at the Derby party that I stole from someone else.  Please notice that there is nothing on Adele's plate but cheetos and bread.  Later she ate two s'mores so I'm sure it all balanced out:

Sunday, May 4, I wore a store-bought dress because I was hungover and tired.  (Logic!)

On Monday, May 5, I stayed with Adele, who had a horrific stomach virus.  I desired comfort so I wore the Trapeze Sundress I sewed last summer.  I still love that dress.

Tuesday, May 6, I was gifted with Adele's horrific stomach virus so I wore pajamas all day.  No I did not sew them myself.

Wednesday, May 7, I wore a store bought dress because reasons.

And that brings us to today, Thursday, May 8.  I'm wearing the Washi Dress.  Apparently I wear a lot of dresses and I am perfectly fine with that.

So that's four out of eight?  Not as good as I'd like but not too bad.  I guess I have to up my game.  And sew some more things because I'm not sure I have enough to last me.

Oh darn!  I have to sew!

Wanna guess where she gets her temper from, asshole?

Before I became a parent I freely admit to being judgy.  Like super judgy.  Like over-the-top, I think you are a horrible parent because your child is doing X Y and Z judgy.  And while I never actually told anyone I thought they were doing it wrong, I still thought they were doing it wrong.

It was something I struggled with, because when my own children did X Y and Z, that meant that, according to my pre-parenting logic, that I was a horrible parent.

However that changed when my 18 month old got kicked out of daycare for smacking other little kids.  I forgave myself.  (I also resented/still-to-this-day despise his 'teacher.')  (Remember that story?)

His behavior was not something he got from home.  It wasn't something that I could stop just by asking him to or helping him to count to 10.  It was something he'd have to grow out of, which he did.

Likewise, I have also learned many, many parenting lessons with my daughter.  She's tough.  She's stubborn.  And heaven help the person who tries to get her to play in her soccer game instead of playing on the (very visible and very close) playground.

That was me this past weekend.  She was in a bad mood almost from the time she woke up.  And that's fine.  It sucks, but it's honestly not that unusual.  We deal with it and move on.  But this day was worse.  And she was not going to get out on that field.  No way, no how, no bribery on earth was going to make her.  Okay, again.  Fine.  Normally I don't really have a problem with it because I know I can't force her.  Sometimes I forget and need to be reminded, though, which she did with a kick to my shins.  It was effective.  I attempted to let her know that sort of behavior wasn't acceptable by enforcing a 'time out' that never took.  I remedied this by holding her in my lap while she kicked me even more.

(In case you were wondering, her father was filling in for the coach, so he was not available to help.  And her brother was just trying to stay out of the line of fire.)

Obviously (NOW.  Now it's obvious) that wasn't going to work.  I decided in my infinite parental wisdom to take her to the car for a cooling off period, which would have probably been a good idea ages before we got to this point.  As I got up, carefully holding on to my squirming, flailing, fighting, 3 and a half year old daughter I hear an old man next to me wearing coveralls sadly lament how we are raising our daughter.

"No limitations," he smugly pronounced, smirking and all but shaking his head at my inability to properly control my daughter.
At first I was mainly focused on calming the situation down as best as I could and moving away from the crowd.  So it didn't register with me what he had said.

And then, as I was walking with my death grip on my daughter's arm, dragging her through the parking lot because she went limp, with her screams echoing in my ear, I started cursing him in my head because WHAT THE HELL?

Who are you to talk to me?  If we're going to judge people, then I'm going to go ahead and assume that you never had to deal with this, that whoever was unlucky enough to be the mother of your children probably did all the work and dealt with all the tantrums and that is why you are standing their acting superior and telling me that I'm not raising my kid right, you lazy, asshole, sack of shit.

And maybe that's not true.  But neither is assuming you know how I parent after 5 minutes of watching me with my daughter, who was having an exceptionally bad day.

Oh yes, we have limitations.  We have boundaries.  We have proper behavior and the right way to act and all the rest.  But that only goes so far.  Children will push those boundaries.  Children will have a shit day where nothing makes them feel better than screaming at the top of their lungs and lunging at whatever is within their reach.

We all have those days.  But you know what makes an adult?  It's the ability to hold back and not say whatever stupid bullshit comes into your head.

You might want to keep that in mind.