it's a...

There are some people who can patiently wait until their baby is born to find out whether it's a boy or a girl. They enjoy the surprise, even. I've heard that it gives them motivation to get through labor, as though you need a motivator besides the small person who is, regardless, tunneling out of your womb. This, to me, is like finding a reason to keep peeing once you start. 

I am not one of those people. I want to be, sort of, and I even entertained the idea of forcing myself to be one of those people for the four or five months of pregnancy during which knowing the baby's sex is even possible. It seemed fun to announce to everyone that a little boy or a little girl had arrived -- a small bonus to the anticipated name and stats, as neither are we people who name a child prior to meeting him or her. There's also the matter of pre-defining someone's gender, which is a little bit fucked up, and the very real potential for having a baby of the opposite sex than is predicted through ultrasound, or an intersexed baby (of which the prevalence is somewhere between 1.7% and .018% depending on the conditions included). 

But. I am incapable of being that patient, enlightened person. Instead, I was itching to find out and get started sewing a few things (for a boy; for a girl, let's be frank: an entire wardrobe). What was I going to do? Make all this stuff and not show you? Please.

So, we found out a couple of weeks ago. I sent text messages to the most fervently enquiring minds while (I kid you not) using the restroom at the ultrasound place, midway through the procedure. That's how hilarious a proposition it was to keep the sex a secret. I couldn't even get out the door. 

So, here are a few things I've made in the past couple of days, using these tutorials, scaled down slightly so as to be worn sooner (have I mentioned that patience is not one of my virtues?). 

The fabrics are, top to bottom, Alexander Henry Farmdale Orchard and a kind of robin's egg blue cotton lawn; two prints from Lizzy House Castle Peeps (reeling in my psychosis about making matching outfits, I saved the scraps to put at the hem of some otherwise solid-colored pants for George); and two patterns from Anna Maria Horner's Little Folks voile, which I could swathe myself in 24/7. These tutorials were so easy to follow that I whipped the three dresses up in just one night, plus an hour for finishing. I asked George if he liked them, and he said, "Piddy!" Which either means they're pretty or he pities the next in line to wear the clothes I've made. Based on his jacket review, I'm guessing it's the latter. 

homemade diapers

When George was still cooking, I decided to try my hand at diaper making. It wasn't hard, but having never cloth diapered, I didn't know what I wanted, and those early homemade all-in-ones (henceforth referred to as AIOs) have since been handed down to someone else who, I hope, likes them better than I did. They were cute and all, but one-time-users just aren't my cup of tea.

We've been trying to think ahead and solve the two kids/one diaper stash dilemma. George has taken it upon himslf to potty learn, and has been using the potty for four months, though not reliably. There's a lot of time between now and February, but also, there's not, and who knows what kind of bathroom-related hijinxs will ensue between now and then. It's like a buddy movie nobody wants to see! 

I'd be bummed if I bought a whole second supply of diapers only to have George in Elmo underpants by the time I need them, so I'm curbing my drive for preparation ("nesting"?) by sewing up some little newborn diaper covers, good for seven to 15 pounds of stalling while we decide whether or not to pull the trigger on some more fancy one-size-fits-most diapers/covers/whatever. This is riveting, no? My diaper purchasing decision making process. Wow. Anyway,

The other day, I was shopping my section of bookmarks devoted to free patterns and tutorials and there were those old AIO instructions. Being older, wiser, having changed about fifty gajillion diapers since I last looked at the pattern, I felt like I could make it work for me with a few changes and some stuff I already had: some larger scraps of PUL (the shiny-backed fabric that keeps the -- ahem -- crap inside), some fold-over-elastic left over from when I had a lingerie shop (yes, the things a blog can teach you about its owner!)... oh, and I bought some velcro. 

They're cute! Functional? Probably. I made one for George to try out and goodness knows that kid can pee; the fact he remained dry leaves me optimistic. The elastic is light pink, but anything bought more than five years ago counts as free, right? So it was free; no complaints. These aren't as cute as the patterned ones you can buy, but the colors are okay and I think they'll do, especially for that anything-goes period between birth and resurfacing for air/real food/social interaction. 

I changed the original directions by simply cutting out the pattern in PUL, then going around the edges with the FOE, stretching the elastic taut at the legs and around the back. Her instructions are for a full AIO diaper, with an inner soaker and everything, but the shape is the same as that of a regular cover. She has a fancy snap press, it looks like, and I have none (Santa, do you hear me?), so I used velcro, first, on the aqua one, with two tabs on the front. I didn't like the apparent lack of a size range with that method, so on the other two I did a long strip across the whole front, similar to the other diapers and covers I have. Overall, I'm pretty happy with them, and in less than six months, I'll have a little bum to stick 'em on. We'll see how they work!

tutorial: a little sling

We were in Seattle for the weekend, staying in Bellevue while Nathan attended a yearbook teachers' thing, with plenty of time for walking around the enormous mall right across the street from our hotel. The only good score of our mall excursion(s) was a little Corolle baby with whom George fell instantly in love. I decided that he needed a carrier for Baby Tony (as he has since been dubbed), so I set out to make one. It worked! It's cute! And it took me about 15 minutes to make. 

(You only need two D rings, but I had a 4 pack lying around.)

 

 

romp

I made a romper. Okay, technically I made a jumpsuit, but something in me doesn't want to call it what it is. While virtual window shopping the other day, I came across this Alexander Wang number and fell a little bit in love. The fit would be unfortunate on me, however, because of the color, the wider leg and the drop waist (not to mention that I don't exactly have $675 to spend on a jumpsuit OR romper). I've had a truly delicious piece of black brushed silk in my fabric stash for years, attached to various projects that I never got around to cutting before they fell out of favor or fashion. Well! Rompsuit, I guess we were destined for each other. 

I didn't have a pattern, just used a top whose fit I like and some pants of the appropriate width to make a rough template and adjusted as I sewed. To be clear, this method rarely works, but when it does, it's glorious. 

It's arguably unflattering, but I don't really care. It's silk. It's got an elastic waist. It's black. It goes well with elaborate macramé jewelry. I kind of never want to take it off. Don't mind me -- I'll just be lying on my flokati, propped up by floor pillows, listening to Fleetwood Mac. Summer*, here we come.

*Wait, black silk in summer, you say? Isn't that too hot? Oh, ha ha ha; here, I shiver in the evenings until August. 

hideout

Our house is small. It's cute, and I like it, and I don't even keep the space I have tidy, so I can't justifiably wish for more. But having a toddling baby doesn't always jibe with also having such a tiny home. We have a lot of stuff, some of which is valuable -- both sentimentally and otherwise -- and while I respect the methods of child rearing that dictate we must create an entirely child-friendly space, it's just not realistic for my family. Plus, I want my records out and accessible. I want George to grow up with a respect for the delicacy of certain things, looking forward to the special occasions when he is allowed to handle our treasures. After all, there are lots of no-touches in the world, for kids and adults alike. 

This is not to say that our house is one big barrister bookcase of Hummel figurines. Nevertheless, I still feel bad sometimes that George has such a limited play area. That, unless a door is shut, he can never escape my eyeshot. He needed a hideout: a cozy little retreat all his own for looking at books, for talking to his cow and baby about what a jerk mama is when she won't let him pick at the electrical outlet covers. I'd been looking at teepee instructions and tutorials online and in pattern books for awhile before I finally decided to just wing it. (This is by no means a tutorial, but if you're similarly inclined to fly by the seat of your pants, maybe this will give you an idea or two.)

I used:

• four 4-foot-long dowels
• some white twill that I already had
• some ikea fabric that I'd been saving for something special
• some hot pink suede cord leftover from moccasin making
• a scrap of yellow broadcloth.

I made pretty haphazard triangles that measured three feet on the bottom edge, just folded them in half and used a yard stick to cut a relatively straight diagonal line that would create a triangle when the fabric opened back up. The triangles are 3 and a half feet tall. 

For the dowel casings, I cut 3 inch wide strips the same length as the triangles' diagonal edge. As I sewed the triangles together at the long sides, I folded the casings in half (wrong sides together) and sandwiched them between the teepee side pieces. To make an opening, I cut the front piece in half lengthwise, then sewed partway down. I made some bias tape and bound the unfinished edges of the flap. For a little extra stability, I reinforced the top of the flap with a triangle of scrap fabric. I didn't want to get out the iron, so the triangle is uneven, but oh well. 

I looped a piece of suede cord around the tops of the dowels, and tied them up tight. I made the whole thing after George went to bed last night (in about 2.5 hours), so it was set up for him this morning. 

He was freaking STOKED. As soon as the next Joann circular comes in the mail, I'll get some shredded foam to make a big matching pillowy cushion to lounge on. 

For now, though, he's perfectly content crawling in, sitting for awhile, then crawling back out to check on Rody.