Homemade Friday: Daughter gets skirts that may or may not be from a guilt-induced sew session

When Adele started daycare/preschool, she was required to wear a uniform.  I didn't think it would be that much of an issue because Sebastian had to wear one when he went to preschool, so we had a few pieces of clothing I thought she’d be able to wear.  But her sizing has suddenly skipped from “totally normal’ to ‘completely wonky.’  (That’s the technical term, of course.)

She went through a ridiculous growth spurt over the winter holidays, so much that all of the sudden none of her clothes fit.  Her 4T pants fit her in length, but not around the waist.  But the 5T pants are entirely too big and look ridiculous.  It could, possibly, be because the larger pants I've been trying on her are made for boys, as I've just been putting all of Sebastian’s pants on her since I didn't feel like buying a bunch of new stuff.  But I think that’s weird because they are tiny children so why should their clothing be made/sized so differently to cause this sort of problem for a mother who is just trying to cloth her children?

Sebastian also outgrew all of the pants I bought him at the beginning of the school year.  When he does wear them he shows some ankle.  Plus they’re too tight around the stomach, too.

Here this skirt is lovingly styled with a pajama
top and Mimi the pillowpet.  And her brother.

The point of this is that my children need clothes.  Adele, specifically, needs bottoms.  Since she requires a uniform I can’t just stick her in some black leggings that may possibly, technically be too small but that aren't so small that they are uncomfortable, because leggings.

I was complaining about all of this to a friend of mine, and she suggested just putting Adele in skirts or jumpers.

I admit that the idea never actually crossed my mind.  But once she said it I realized that it was a perfect solution.  It made complete sense.  (Hello, my name is Jaime and I make things much harder than they are.  Also easy solutions are foreign to me.)

Adele exhibiting the Thomas stare.

Once I had a workable solution I made it even more workable and also cheaper by deciding sew the skirts myself.

I found khaki material at Wal-Mart for around $5 a yard.  I bought a couple of yards and made two skirts.  But there's tons left over so I can use it to make shorts when it warms up and long, elastic-waist pants, too, when I get a little time.  

I’d already used this particular pattern a couple of times before (Here is one.  The other one I made out of bicycle fabric that I also used for shorts for Sebastian.  The skirt has since been lost, although how you lose an entire skirt in this house, I have no idea.  If you see it anywhere, let me know.)

I measured Adele’s waist, and according to the pattern she was a size 6, so that’s what size I cut out of the fabric.  I cut two skirts out at once because I knew she’d need more than one, and I’d be better off just doing them both at the same time.

I'm not sure what's going on here.

Once I cut them out and really looked at the skirt pieces I realized that they were way too big.  I figured the best and easiest way to solve this was to just cut a few inches off of each side.  Adele was at school so I wasn't able to try anything on her, plus there’s really no way she’d stay still long enough for me to pin and whatnot anyway.  I cut more off of one skirt than the other, so even though I used the same pattern it looks like two different skirts. 

I also had to shorten the amount of elastic I used to make it at all wearable for her.  I don’t know if I am just really bad at taking measurements (probably) or if she’d just eaten a really big meal whenever I took the tape measure to her, but the sizing was horrible. 

Luckily I was able to make it work with a little shrug and a lot of “eh – it’ll be fine.”

Wrinkles mean they are loved.

So now I feel at least a little better about sending Adele to daycare, if only because she has a couple of items of clothing that fit correctly now.  (Let’s not talk about the polo shirts she’s required to wear, and the fact that none of the ones she has fit her because they are all huge.) (Let's also not talk about the fact that she still screams and cries so loudly when I drop her off that I can hear her all the way down the hallway. She has pretty skirts!)

Pattern: Simplicity Sew Simple 1968
Size: 6, but probably should have stuck with 4
Material: Khaki

Random Thursday: I'm thinking the space needs a Doctor Who poster. Or something.

1. Do you know how weird it is to be out of the house?  By myself?  In nice clothes?  Talking with really awesome adults?

2. Guys, I'm working now.  Real live working.  The kind of working that brings in a decent paycheck and makes me feel all adult and stuff.

3. (Obviously.)

4. And it doesn't even matter that I haven't had much to do since my supervisor has been out all week. I'm pretty caught up on the news, so there's that.

5. I did get some editing to do today, so I felt super important.

6. I did not realize how much I missed it.

7. Words are cool.

8. It also doesn't even matter that my office is literally a storage closet, complete with a Christmas tree and decorations that I offered to set up.

9. I thought it would jazz up the space.

10. They said not now.

11. No really - it's a storage closet.  See:

12. I have no desire to change it.  It's all mine.

13. My own space, my own time, my own job.  My own desk.  My own laptop.  My own phone.

14. I taped up pictures of my children this morning to decorate the whiteness.

15. And then I was promptly kicked out because very important people needed to use the lab and I would disturb them on one of my many trips to get coffee.

16. Coffee is important, you know.  And I'd hate to be kept from partaking.

17. I've been assured that no one ever uses that room, but this is just a special week.

18. No matter.

19. Now I get to use the supervisor's fancy office since he's still out sick.

20. I'm pretending that it's mine.

21. That's totally normal, right?

22, I can't wait to get started.

23. Like really, full-on started.

24. (Can you tell I'm almost squeeing?)

25. Because I am.

(My random posts are totally not random.)

It's easier because it's harder

I thought it would be much easier than it was. 

I’ve spent the past three and a half years desperate for time to myself.  I would have days were all I wanted was some time to clear my head of the constant chatter and noise that comes with staying at home with two small children.

And I felt so horrible about that need to be away from my kids.  I’ve made no secret about how difficult my youngest can be – my wild girl, my fierce little lady.  And the thought of having a break with nothing whatsoever to do filled me with glee transposed with extreme guilt. 

The excitement I felt with starting a new job, with being out in the world again was palpable.  But then I also felt like I wasn’t being mother enough to my kids.  I shouldn’t want to be away, right?  I should prefer to stay where I was. 

I gave myself a week to get Adele used to being in daycare before I started work.  I thought I could ease her into it, going part time before she went for a full day.  And that way I could also have free time - glorious, uninterrupted time where I would do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted with no one wiping their snot on my pants or ‘brushing’ my hair until I’d lost half of it.* 

The first day I dropped her off was much, much more difficult than I’d anticipated.  She cried, which I expected, because this was a completely new situation that I was thrusting her into.  But I did not expect the tightening in my own stomach, my own tears, or my inability to do anything all day but focus on wondering what she was doing, and how she was feeling.

I’m hard on myself.  I know it.  But a lot of times I feel like I’m not sensitive enough.  I mean, I know I’m crazy sensitive in certain respects, but I worry that I’ve lost that sensitivity, or even empathy, when it comes to my own children.  I worry that I focus too much on what I have to do rather than what it would be fun to do.  I don’t play very well with my kids. Or rather, I don't play well energetically.  I’ll read them whatever books they want me to, or work puzzles and have tea parties, but I probably won’t let them tackle me.  As my son says, “Mommy doesn’t wrestle.”

But as I was saying, I worry that I am too eager to be away from them, and that I’m not enjoying them as I should be.  I love them and want to make them extraordinarily happy, but I also want a break from them.  And that makes me feel bad.

So my excitement over my own free time quickly was downgraded when I realized that I missed my little girl.  I missed her face and her smile and her sweet kisses.  I missed her climbing on the sink in the bathroom to get her own bandaids because I wouldn’t get her a 10th one.  I missed her dancing and singing and our tree tent tea parties.  And then my son wasn’t there in the afternoon as he normally was, and I missed that, too.  I missed being with him to ask about his day and peek in his backpack.  I missed him begging to watch just one more show. 

It was too quiet.  And I was too bored.  I couldn’t do anything.  I couldn’t make myself do anything.  And all I wanted to do was pick up the kids.  I looked forward to the time to pick them up.

It was a strange feeling for me.  It was the longest I’d ever continually been away from Adele, and the longest I’d been away from Sebastian since he was little.  This is, of course, except for their sleepovers with their grandparents but those don’t count because they spend the entire time being spoiled.

But that yearning for the kids caused me to feel much better, like I wasn’t as horrible at this motherhood thing as I originally thought.  And that has actually made it easier to leave them, if that makes sense.

I do miss my kids.  And it’s been really hard being away from them.

But oh, I’m so happy to be back at work.  I was thinking earlier that this is the perfect place for me.  I used to work at Western and always loved working in that environment.  I loved being around people who were learning, who were growing.  And I loved being in the academic atmosphere.  I was sad to leave it. 

But I also loved working in the newspaper environment.  I loved creating and design and writing.  And this job incorporates both of those aspects – I get to work at a college again, and I get to be creative. 

So nobody pinch me because I don't want to wake up.

* An aside – every time Adele sees me sitting at the computer in our house she’ll run and get the detangler spray and a brush and her box of hair things and "fix" my hair for me.  It is tortuously painful but so adorable that I allow it.  Plus she always apologizes when she pulls my hair.

Motherhood and More: Emotions spin as Mom heads back to work*

I can’t call myself a stay-at-home mom anymore.

You see, I got a real-live, brush-your-hair-every-day, leave-the-house type of job. And I’m so excited, so thrilled and so nervous.

It’s been a long time — three and a half years — since I’ve worked in an office, outside of my home. And I know it’s conceited to think the whole world stopped once I left the workforce, but in some ways, that’s how it feels. I feel like I’ve been in limbo a bit, waiting for something. I honestly didn’t have specific plans of what I would do once it was time for me to go back to work. Or even when it would be time for me to go back to work.

I’ve applied for a few jobs over the years, mostly because it’s financially difficult to live on one salary with two children. But I half hoped I wouldn’t be chosen because then I wouldn’t have to deal with leaving my kids. So it was never a huge disappointment when I didn’t get a call.

But when I saw this job, I knew it would be perfect. It’s a writing job, close by and starts part time. So maybe I can ease back into the world again.

The thing that is causing me the most anxiety, though, is my daughter.

My son was in day care from the time he was 3 months old until he was 2 1/2. And then at 3, he was in preschool. So he’s always had time away from me. He’s a social little guy and the only thing that will be different for him is he will ride the bus to a day care in the afternoon and probably will not be allowed to watch as much television as he does at home. He is, of course, terribly upset at that fact, but I’m sure he will adjust. This way, I don’t have to always be the bad guy limiting his screen time.

But my daughter always has been with me, right by my side. She was much more independent as a younger child than my son, but I think that’s because she had never really been separated from me. She knew I always would be within shouting distance.

So I’m worried about how she will take the adjustment. I’m worried there will be tears and crying and clinging and I’m worried she will do those things, too. Because it’s just starting to sink in I won’t be around her all day. Yes, of course, it has been so difficult and trying and exhausting staying at home. But I always knew she’d be in shouting distance if I needed her.

And now, I won’t know what she’s doing all day. I won’t see how much she eats for lunch or how she plays with the other kids. I won’t watch her tuck her baby dolls in on the couch because “they need to feel better.” I won’t be there to kiss a booboo or play ball during the day, or stop her from eating all the toothpaste straight out of the tube.

Part of me is relieved at being able to be a person other than Mommy again. I will be with adults most of the day and be able to think without a small child interrupting me to ask for a cup of milk. But, oh, it does hurt to think of not being available for my kids whenever they need me.

It’s a fantastic opportunity I’ve been given, one I honestly never thought I would have. I’ve been able to stay at home with my babies for longer than many other mothers. And now that it’s time, I’m able to re-enter the workforce doing something I love to do.

So, yeah. I’m lucky. And thrilled. And nervous. And excited. And sad. And terrified. And nauseous. And ecstatic.

And ready.

*This column originally published in The News-Enterprise on February 26, 2014.