a smattering of updates

Video blog update has been made!  Find it here.

This is the pattern I am basing my ball dress on.

My life in the last week has been focused on sewing, sewing, and more sewing.  And all for the same damned "easy" garment.  Deciding that I would rather sew than buy this year's ball dress, I've been busy stitching up the thing whenever I can.  See?  That's the key--whenever I can.  This whole mom of an infant business has been limiting my time in front of the Bernina to maybe an hour or two a day.  Plus this past weekend we were out of the house due to multiple obligations.  I had hoped to be able to sew a couple of outfits.  Now I'll be lucky to finish one!

I am, of course, quite disappointed to be faced with so few garment options for this year's Queen Mary Art Deco Festival, but that is just the reality of a postpartum body.  Most of the pieces in my closet do not fit at the moment.  With the help of some foundation garments, I can barely fit into a couple of dresses that were on the larger side.  That will have to do.

(Oh, how I wish that What Katie Did's Hollywood location were opening a few days earlier.  Alas, but I will be there when then do open next week!)

At any rate, I'll be enjoying myself this weekend whether or not I'm in the most wonderful Deco-era clothes or not.  I must remember that my friends are not going to be judging me upon each and every ensemble I throw together.  

Declan will be spend two days with his auntie while we are "away."  I'm equally excited and nervous.  Excited that he'll be able to spend time with family, nervous that I'm going to miss him like mad.  I know that I need to spend some time away from him.  Recharge my batteries and all that.  But he is such the focus of my everyday that I know I will constantly wonder what he is doing.  Thank heavens for technology, I will be able to ask for photos and updates via text.

Casting a Light

I need accountability if I'm going to get back to my pre-pregnancy weight before Declan is a toddler.  As such, I've decided to start a video blog (aka vlog) to hopefully shame myself into doing what I know that I can do but have so far been to lazy to do.

A few weeks ago, I signed up for an online "bootcamp" specific for moms.  In those past few weeks, though, I've only succeeded in half-assing it.  And it shows on my hips and on the scale.  My realization or turning point came when, on Tuesday, I was putting together a test bodice for the gown that I am making for the upcoming Queen Mary Art Deco Ball.  The bodice should have fit, but didn't.  It was close, but not quite a fit.  (Thankfully, it's just a test run.  No actual evening gown fabric was harmed.)

It made me sick to think that I should easily fit into the bodice, but couldn't and the reason was that I couldn't be bothered to eat better and exercise.  So... time to take off the gloves and put me squarely in my place.

I'll warn you now.  The first video blog entry was made this morning.  I have on no make-up (not even my eyebrows!)  My hair is a wreck.  The house is torn upside down to accommodate my sewing.  In short, it's a glaringly bright light into all the ugly cracks and crevices around my personal facade.  It is not for the faint at heart.

And here it is.

To help remove the image of me in my 8:30am glory from your mind, here is a lovely photo of a gorgeous gal in her skivvies.  Enjoy.

i take it all back!!

Declan just fell asleep, completely on his own, in his swing.  I take it all back.  All that talk of guilt and such.

This morning, he was a bit cranky (yes, teething already).  I thought I'd do a little experiment and I placed him in the swing.  Almost instant calm.  Well, for a moment.  After about fifteen minutes in the swing, he began to fuss again.  So, he came out of the swing for some playtime.

About an hour ago he started to really fuss.  Poor fella.  He was obviously tired, but did not want to eat.  We walked and talked.  We danced.  We played.  Still cranky.  So, I popped him into the swing again and calm.  Calm which eventually led to sleep!  Joy of joys!!

One Swingin' Fella

And so it begins... the guilt.  Nice baby-faced helpings of it.

Let me back up and bring you up to speed.  At the end of this month, Husband and I will be going on a "cruise" aboard the Art Deco gem, the Queen Mary.  Every Labor Day weekend, the Art Deco Society of Los Angeles hosts a festival of Art Deco lectures, cocktail parties, and just all out splendor aboard this floating hotel.  It was at this festival three years ago that my husband and I became engaged.  Two years ago, we were married there.  It is a special place and a special event.  Husband and I save so as to be able to attend each year.

Since before the Little Fella was born, his aunt has offered to sit for us.  Declan will be with us on Friday evening, so as to quell some of the questions about him.  But I am grateful that my sister-in-law has been eager to help us by watching Declan on Saturday and Sunday.  In order to get Declan prepared for playing and sleeping with her, we decided to chuck some money at the baby industry and purchase a baby swing.

To back up a bit further, I had initially decided that we would be a non-swinging family.  Sure, my daughter ADORED hers when she was an infant, but I had a lot more room at my disposal then.  Currently, the four of us live in a meager two-bedroom apartment where space is at a premium.  Have you seen the current army of baby swings?!  They're HUGE!  So I made an executive decision and vetoed the swing idea.  Plus, as a proponent of attachment parenting, my hope was to wear the baby most of the time. Too bad he doesn't always want to be worn...

What is it about babies that all the best-laid plans manage to go right out the window on a whim?

Since the Little Fella is not always keen to be in the Moby Wrap or his Hotsling, or even his Gemini carrier, we purchased for him a bouncy seat a few weeks back.  He LOVES being in the bouncer while Husband or I cook.  Declan is just the most contented little guy there, however he will not fall asleep in it.

Naptimes around here happen one of two ways.  1) Declan falls asleep while nursing and I refrain from doing anything until he wakes.  2) Declan falls asleep in his Hotsling while his dad finger-feeds him.  As Declan will be under the care of neither one of us for two days during the festival, we need a new sleep option.  Thus did we decide to suck it up and buy a baby swing.

We figured that our odds for getting him to sleep without boob or sling would be best with a swing.  Now we just have to get him used to it.  THIS is where my guilt comes in to play.  When I put him into the swing, he looks at me as if to ask, "Why don't you want to hold me?"  He doesn't fuss, and doesn't even look sad or upset.  But my mind immediately and irrationally imagines him questioning me.

This ought to make for a few interesting days.

Lily isn't sewing

Nope.  I am currently listening to the milk-blurbly snores of my funny baby.  He is catnapping at the boob leaving me to type this one-handed.  Rather appropriate for the last day of World Breastfeeding Week.

Last week I played the birthday trump card and scored a trip to the marketplace at Costume College.  While there, I picked up two more Decades of Style patterns.  I've decided that so long as I still have this heavier version of me (thanks, postpartum me!), I am going to at least make some flattering, well-fitting attire for myself.

My figure isn't nearly as waspy, but whose is?

When I've been able to squeeze in a bit of time here and there, I've been working on a toile/muslin of the 1950s Gourmet Skirt.  Cute, isn't it?

I crafted the toile in the largest size the pattern offered believing that, as it was smaller than my last waist measurement, it would be snug.  But, no, it ended up waaaay to big.  Yay?  So I'm back to stage one.  Last night I managed to tear the toile apart, iron out the seams, and reassemble one pocket.  All hopes of stitching this morning went out the window when Brian left for archery practice leaving me alone with the babe.

Baby boy is still napping while boobing.  Very cute, but rather limiting.  Guess I'll go back to watching streaming episodes of I Love Lucy...

Grown-up Time Recap

Last night was wonderful.  Absolutely magnificent.

In my last blog post, I mentioned that Brian and I were going to an event at the downtown Los Angeles Coca Cola building.  I had lamented my postpartum body and blathered on about the struggle to find a good outfit for the occasion.  Thankfully, all of the negativity that I had was washed away by the time spent with good friends.

I did manage to squeeze into the red knit dress and not look a total mess.  I would like to think that I captured the spirit and joie de viv of a heavy Elizabeth Taylor.  At least, that’s what I continually told myself so as to not frump over into a completely lackluster posture.

The tour and Coca Cola building was nice.  While not truly awesome, it was a lovely time for the right people (ADSLA members only) and the right price (FREE).  Plus, yours truly was one of the fortunate.  I won a gigantic plush polar bear in the raffle.

Post Coca Cola event, friends Tricia and Paul agreed to join Brian and myself for dinner.  Our first two attempt to find the right place to dine were bust.  Wurstkuche was beyond crowded, Cafe Metropol was closed.  Paul suggested a supper club, First and Hope, and thanks to Open Table integration with Yelp, we were able to make immediate reservations for four.

The supper club was gorgeous and proved to be a perfect location for four friends to drink, dine, and chat as we certainly enjoyed all three.  As for the drinks, Tricia ordered a glass of Skylark wine, Brian settled on a Manhattan, and I indulged in a 20th Century--my first time enjoying this particular drink.  It will certainly not be my last, it was quite tasty and should definitely be a future Cocktail of the Week!

Dinner was divine.  I had such a lovely time chatting with Paul and Tricia.  I do wish that we weren’t quite so geographically distant as, selfishly, I’d love to be able to see them more often.  We talked and laughed (often) about a multitude of subjects--to many to note.  It was tough to finally say, “goodnight,” but as all had babysitters to rescue we did have to call it a night near nine o’clock.

Reflecting now upon the evening, I cannot help but desire to spend future evenings in a similar fashion--a small group of friends simply enjoying each others company.  Big gathering as grand, but there is something truly special about a couple of friends, a couple of drinks, and witty conversation.  

Grown-up Time

Tonight, the fella and I are going out just the two of us.  We were able to convince the teenager to watch the baby.  I'm confident that she'll do just fine, but her occasional anxiety when Declan cries in the car has me mentally preparing for the possibility of calling it an early night.  Declan is MUCH improved from where he was when first diagnosed with GERD, but he can kick up a real good fuss every once in a while.

The event that Brian and I are attending is a special tour and event at the Los Angeles Coca Cola building. As the building is not open to the public, I'm pretty stoked.  Plus, I thought that it would be a gas to dress in Coca Cola red.  I have only two red articles of clothing.  One is a cotton day dress with delicate floral print all over it.  As seen here:

Great summer dress, but not very fancy

The other option is a gorgeous red knit dress from the 1950s.  But yeah, knit.  In summer.  At least it's a cotton knit, but still.  Not to mention that my postpartum body is not at all attractive in a clingy knit number.

So, on Friday I decided to do some quick shopping to find a suitable skirt or dress.  The two + hours that I spent that afternoon would have been much more enjoyable had I instead stayed home and drilled random holes into my skull.  It was that bad.  I knew that finding a good red would be difficult, but I failed to account for the ego-crushing feelings associated with finding the perfect item, in what is normally my size AND what is normally a couple of sizes too large, but not being able to fit my ample a** into any of them.  Ouch.

I've decided, as Brian will be wearing his white linen suit, to attempt to squeeze into enough foundation garments to make my figure not too horrifying for the red knit dress.  Failing that, I'll wear the cotton summer shirtdress.  

Now, who's going to take bets to see just how quickly this evening out comes to a screeching halt?  I do hope that we're at least able to enjoy all of the tour.