Costumes

When you're a parent of an elementary school aged child every so often you're going to be told something like, "I need an Alexander Graham Bell costume by Friday!"

If your kid is responsible (like mine), she will tell you this on Monday, instead of on Thursday night.

In the past I've been really good about this kind of thing, because I remember the terror of having to go to school in a costume, knowing that the costume is crummy. Mary has gone to school credibly costumed as George Washington, Annie Oakley, Malcolm X, and the state flag of Indiana. But this time I dropped the ball, because it's summer, for pete's sake, and it's just inventions camp, it's not like there's going to be a grade, and oh, well ... I just got lazy.

So on Thursday night Mary needs an Alexander Graham Bell costume, because she can never get a simple subject (sartorially speaking) like Gandhi or Socrates, it always has to be some 19th century guy in a suit.

We don't have anything that will work. For a while we consider trying to glue cotton balls to cardboard to make a fake beard, when Bill suddenly comes up with an idea so wonderful, so beautiful in its purity and simplicity, that I gasp.

Street clothes and this mask = pure genius!

Mary is horrified, of course. We keep trying to tell her that the mask is awesome (and hilarious) but she doesn't believe us. Sometimes the things Bill and I find hilarious are not things that she finds hilarious.

She ends up giving her presentation wearing a magician's hat and my brown corduroy jacket, looking much more like a Haight Ashbury hippy than Alexander Graham Bell. But it doesn't much matter, because only four out of the twelve kids in her class bother to wear any costume at all.

Lesson learned: invest in a boys' black suit from the thrift store and a fake white beard (also useful if she ever gives a presentation on Sigmund Freud).

The Slippery Slope, or How Elizabeth became "Bitsy"

The baby's progress from Elizabeth Carolina, to Lizzy, to "Bitsy," was tragic but perhaps inevitable.

Elizabeth Carolina was a name I'd held in reserve for eight years; it was almost Mary's name.  But Mary was so roly poly and pink, so clearly a Mary, that "Mary" edged out "Elizabeth" and "Elizabeth" was saved for the hypothetical second girl we might end up having one day.

Why Elizabeth?  For Elizabeth Bennet, of course.  And she would be called "Lizzy," of course.  Except that my husband doesn't like the name Lizzy.  He prefers "Betsy," which is okay, I guess, except that it's not the name of my favorite character in literature, ever.

So after the baby was born he called her Betsy, and I called her Lizzy, until one day we both started referring to her as "the itsy-bitsy baby," and that was pretty much the end of the whole thing.  

I keep saying, look, we have to stop calling her Bitsy.  It's undignified.  But habits are hard to break.  And at this point, if we called her anything else, I don't think she'd know to whom we were referring.

Two exciting things that happened

One:  Mary filled the waffle iron with mayonnaise, thinking it was leftover waffle mix.

Two:  I finally finished the bloomer/shorts from this Oliver and S. pattern.

This project took me about three weeks to finish.  I know.  I have a lot of excuses of varying legitimacy.  But I think the main reason is that I forced myself, at every step of the way, to read the instructions, to slow down, to think, to go back and correct my mistakes.  Whatever muscle it is that governs patience in me is horribly out of shape, and this was a real work out.

I used a linen very much like the fabric in the original pattern drawing because I liked the color, and a vintage cotton for the bias trim on the pockets.  The whole thing is kind of wonky, but it fits and it's cute and I'm happy to finally begin work on something else.

These were the best photos I could get.  My model refused to stand still for more than a second.

What I've learned:  I shouldn't try to sew after watching an episode of "The Wire," because then I find myself muttering things like "S***!  This fabric frays like a mother******."

Hello again!

When you put off blogging so long that the infant subject of your last post is old enough to have a favorite color (yellow) and a full set of very sharp teeth ... then you know you've put off blogging for too long.

I just want to add that Miss B has styled herself for this photo shoot.  

Elizabeth Riding Hood

I haven't been taking enough pictures of Elizabeth, which I suppose is pretty much standard for a third child. Here she is. Our friend Sylvia is holding her.

As the baby of the family, Lizzy wears lots of hand-me-downs, including her older brother's boy clothes (which is only fair, since James is often put to bed in his older sister's Barbie or Tinkerbell t-shirts). But this little red cape with a hood is all hers.

It's by a wonderful designer named Eliza Gran. I bought it at Girl Charlee, an equally wonderful website that carries clothing for children.

She has arrived!

Elizabeth was born last Wednesday! We were hoping for Tuesday ("full of grace") but circumstances way (and I mean waaaaay) beyond our control pushed the delivery back a day. So, full of woe. Except not really -- so far, she's as sweet as a rose.

More pictures of her here.

Books!

I got an e-mail from Amazon today saying that Claire Garland's new book will be shipping out later than expected. I'm extremely excited about this book, since I'm a big fan of both Knitted Babes and Embroidered Treasures for Children.



I have to admit -- I've been too unsure of my embroidery skills to try any of the projects in this book. I mostly just thumb through it and sigh. I think that a lot of my trouble with embroidery came from the fact that I was working with stretchy fabric, which isn't much fun, even if you use a stabilizer. But I recently finished a onesie for Pogo (using a Sublime Stitching pattern), and the work was much easier and more pleasant than I'd remembered (although it was distracting enough that I did miss some important plot points on Deadwood). Next embroidery project: one of Wee Wonderful's adorable Stitchettes.

Another book I'm looking forward to -- Knit 2 Together, by Tracey Ullman and Mel Clark, due out in a few weeks. I was actually at Wildfiber, Mel's store, on the day that she'd brought in an advance copy, and it looks amazing. Plus, I've loved Tracey Ullman from the moment I first saw the video for "They Don't Know" (from the album "You Broke My Heart in 17 Places" released in -- eek! -- 1983).

I've met Tracey Ullman twice -- the first time, when she visited my college humor magazine in the late '80s, was disastrous. She sat there, perfectly lovely and friendly and eager to talk to us, while we stood in a circle around her in absolute silence, shuffling our feet and staring at the ground. I'm sure we came across as snotty jerks (as we often did), but in reality we were just horribly awkward and embarrassed.

The second time we met was at Wildfiber. This time I actually spoke. I worked up the nerve to go up to her and tell her how much Mary and I enjoyed her performance in Once Upon a Mattress. She was -- again -- lovely and funny and gracious. So buy her book! Go on!