Bowties are cool, too.

As Meg and I passed the Doctor Who merchandise at the mall, two girls were lifting down a stack of fezzes. "I like fezzes," one said.

I tried. I really did. But I couldn't resist. I said it. "Fezzes are cool."

And the girl smiled. "Yes, they are."

Stomping and kicking

Meg emerged from her dress-up corner in her knight's helmet, a breastplate, and a pair of pink wedge heels with bows on the front. She informed me she was here to fight a monster and instructed me strictly not to talk to it, look at it, sing to it, or go near it; and thereupon she went and stomped it into submission with her shoes. The pink was clearly camoflage.
 
She wandered off and came back a minute later with a stick unicorn, neighing energetically. Monsters take a lot of minding, as do mothers. "Mom, are you not doing any of the things the instructions told you not to do?"
 
...

Meg was telling Jonathan something and made a Horse and His Boy reference.
"...just like Rabadash kicked the Grand Severe. What a bully!"

Just to clarify

Meg wandered out of her room and had some questions about the daily schedule.

"Is this naptime, Mom?"
"Nope."
"Was that just me playing quietly in my room?"

Yup!

Also - and this will be of absolutely no interest to those of you without babies, so feel free to stop here - I figured out what to do with those baby nightgowns with elastic around the bottom. As far as I can tell, they're kind of worthless for night wear once the baby's feet stick out, but I had two that still fit her fine through the top and sleeves. Today I put one on Kate and (this is the key bit) added pants. Duh! Now it's a shirt that actually stays put around the waist. I feel clever. Or possibly silly. But also clever.

Smile!

Kate started smiling last weekend! She's got a great smile. I'm trying to get some good shots, and I'll post them on Facebook.

Also, on the subjects of smiling and lipstick, I was reading and apparently you're supposed to apply lipstick with a brush. What?? Someone invented a double-ended lipstick-and-brush. I can see it maybe if you're a professional makeup artist and the lips are going on stage or a movie, but for normal mortals? Somebody explain this to me.

The Tex-colored shirt

Some of you may remember Tex, our cat. He passed on years ago, but he lives on in family legend, I assure you, because he was quite the personality. He now also lives on in my closet, because over the weekend I bought a Tex-colored shirt.

Tex was a Turkish water cat with green eyes and a stripe of fur on his face that exactly matched his eyes. We always joked that that must mean he had green fur. Well, my new t-shirt is that same army green that his eyes were, and it also precisely hits the tone of my eyes. And my eyebrows. So apparently I have a Tex-colored shirt that turns my eyebrows green. Hmm...

Interpreting the sock omens

I have high hopes that this child will make her arrival soon. We're eleven days from the due date and my mom is praying she'll come quickly. And then last night I organized my socks by color in neat rows five across and counted them. I do that every now and again, organize them I mean, so I wasn't worried until I started counting. That's a sure sign something isn't normal. (There were thirty-three pairs clean; and I think that's most of what I have, because it's still sandal weather and I've been doing a lot of laundry.) So possibly I'm nesting. A friend today told me that a vast burst of nesting might mean you'll go into labor within 24 hours, and we're at 23 and counting. Come on, baby!

Meg likes socks, too. Her new thing is to usurp her parents' socks for her own purposes. Wednesday she very matter-of-factly put on my red ladybug socks under her boots and I didn't discover it until she was fully dressed, at which point I didn't care. I mean, she put on socks and shoes all by herself and looked fine. Jonathan, however, will not let her wear his socks on top of her shoes; that's going too far. She hasn't tried messing with the baby's socks, which is just as well, because I'm a little crabby and might breathe fire if she disarranged the baby's sock drawer... which is not organized by color. Anyway, it's basically all pink. And most of it still needs to be washed. If my subconscious insists on nesting it really needs to start working on more useful things, because there's plenty left to do.

Also, I've decided I need another couple pairs of boot socks for fall. There is nothing unusual about this either - days get shorter, orange clothes come out, I want another plaid shirt, and I want more boot socks. Argyle would be darling. Sadly, though, most of the inexpensive socks are all polyester, and my feet are getting too old for man-made materials. I may have to actually buy quality socks one of these days.

In which I do not sneak

Happy last Sunday before Labor Day, everyone! I thought it deserved a particularly summery outfit for church, so I put on my lime green maxi dress with the orange flowers and the blue and purple and yellow bits, and added an orange purse and turquoise earrings and shoes for extra beauty. When your bump is as big as mine, there's no point in going subtle. Meg wore a hot pink dress today and her stompiest dress shoes, so we were a great pair.

My favorite conversation of the morning was with Deb, a mom with older kids. We talked for a bit and then I said I needed to sneak out and grab someone before the music started.

"Not in that dress, you're not sneaking anywhere."

Aw, man! Floor-length lime green isn't sneaky?!

Then after, when I moved back into my row, I kind of slightly ran over Meg with her sister, who was sticking out further than I realized. I think my sneaking days are officially over.

What to wear, what to wear

I'm about eight months along, and this little one is due in about a month and a half. I am now officially bigger than I've ever been before; it's not a bad thing, except that I get up most mornings and look at my closet totally confused. Even when things fit, they don't fit like they used to, so I guess I have to recalibrate all my outfits. Things don't seem to go with each other. What does the well-dressed mama on a budget even wear for late summer? I have this irrational feeling that I should be a) covered (even in the middle), b) really stinkin' cute, and c) still look like myself. I don't want to buy much for just a month and a half, but I really would like to wear something attractive.

I used to know how to sew, but my waist doesn't seem to be where I left it and hemlines are rising and falling - like the Roman Empire, only faster - and sometimes they rise and fall again in the same skirt. Terrifying.

I still have cute shoes, though. So there.

Pink skirt

I've been wanting one of those knit skirts for a while. You know, knee-length, stretchy, a little bit flared, maternity-friendly, and preferably brightly colored. The least expensive one I've found so far was $10 at Wal-Mart, which while not that much, is kind of a lot for a Wal-Mart skirt that I plan to wear for maternity: not to be a clothes snob or anything.

But today I was at Wal-Mart and found a $3 shirt, size 4X-Large. Now THAT, my friends, is about right. It caught my eye because it was a good shade of hot pink and had some cute stud detailing around the collar. I could do something with that.

XXXX-large shirt

Ta-da! Pink skirt. It looks much better on me than on the hanger.

The sleeves became pockets and the studded collar became studded pocket edges. I think they keep it from looking obviously homemade.

The sides of the skirt come up in a subtle scallop. It's such a casual skirt, just zig-zagging it was enough. It will be easy to hem it later if I decide it needs it.

I figured it out

Now that I'm officially "showing," I've figured out why I had all those cute dresses in my closet I didn't actually wear. They didn't come from the maternity department, but they were cut to be attractive for maternity figures - Empire waistlines, lots of elastic, that sort of thing. They're really cute now. No wonder I didn't want to wear them last summer.

Bonus: I have lots of cute dresses.

Double bonus: after this baby, I will know better than to buy that style again!

Small doings

Quote of the day: "Edmund is a bad pentaceratops." Meg
Me: "Edmund isn't a pentaceratops at all, bad or otherwise." He's her friend.
Meg: "Yes he is! He's a pentaceratops!"
Usually she's better at identifying dinosaurs than that.

In non-dinosaur news, we had macaroni and cheese with salad for lunch. Meg ate her salad happily and I had to force her to try a bite of the macaroni.

In other news, my summer shoe collection has kept shrinking. One can't really wear boots year-round, and I keep outgrowing or wearing out my old sneakers and sandals. My pink flowered Converses bit the dust ages ago and these days the whole brand is too narrow for me. I looked at Keds, which do come in cute gingham print, but they weren't that inspiring. Mostly what's available right now is neon running shoes, which would be fine if I liked running, looking like I go running, or neon. I'd really rather have something a little more... discreet. Dressy. Versatile. So today I found a lovely pair of leopard-and-gold sneakers. I saw them and decided they spoke to my soul AND would match pretty much all my casual clothes, which is a little terrifying, but there you have it. They were on clearance. I can't imagine why.

Sam Vimes would be proud

If you saw me this winter, I was probably wearing my brown cowboy boots. Just a guess. They were my birthday present and cost about four times what I would normally spend on a pair of shoes. I wore them everywhere, every day, from church to stomping around in the woods. They were real leather and I conditioned them properly, and when spring rolled around, they still looked practically new.

Compare this to a pair of ankle boots I got while I was expecting Meg. They're cheapy black plastic pleather stuff, a half-size bigger than usual with a gentle wedge and the softest, squishiest footbed ever, so they were perfect. I wore them for about those six months, put them away, and when I got out my maternity wear this spring, noticed the outer layer was peeling everywhere. They're still comfortable, but they look awful.

Terry Pratchett, if you've read his books, calls this the Sam Vimes Principle. Vimes says you can spend $10 a year every year for cheap shoes, or spend $100 up front and get a good pair that will still be going strong ten years later. I think I just proved the principle. I am so buying good boots from now on!

Spring clothes

Spring has finally, finally, arrived here. I opened a window yesterday and (surprise!) found a very nice sunbeam. Being part cat, I immediately stretched out it, and spent most of Meg's naptime reading a magazine. It was a really good sunbeam.

I spent the rest of her naptime (on through dinnertime and past her bedtime) doing the Great Seasonal Clothes Swap, which involved getting out pretty much every item of clothing I own and either putting it into or out of a storage bin, mostly trying them on along the way. It was more exciting this year since I got out the maternity clothes. Yes, it's true! We are expecting a new arrival at the end of September. And, between junior and the pleasant weather, it was high time to get spring things out.

A girl of many hats

Meg, like many small girls before her, has a way with hats. Some of them are actually hats, some are other useful household objects pressed into service, and all of them get a name. For instance, we have a "pumpkin hat" and "mouse hat," which anyone could have.

We also have the "worry hat," a red plastic mixing bowl, the "problem hat," a green polar fleece hat with matching gloves, and finally the "school bus hat," which is a blue measuring scoop from a tub of oxy-clean. Elsa Schiaparelli would be proud.

You should definitely come play dress-up with us.

Red skirt

I did some sewing again last week. This jazzy little piece is part of my never-ending quest to come up with a skirt pattern or method that will really, truly, actually, reliably fit me properly. I do like this skirt, but I'm not sure it's the Ultimate Pattern I wanted.

I got the materials at Joann's. The red lace came from their special occasion line and the beige underlining was a lightweight crinkle poly blend of some kind. The color was "Camel." I also got the zipper there.

I cut the front essentially like a rectangle with the sides tapered in for the waist. The back pieces were like the front, except with extra seam allowance in the middle back to put in the zipper. I inserted the zipper into just the underlining and hand-tacked the lace down around it, but I'm not quite satisfied, so I may rip that part out and redo it. I hemstitched the lining. The side seams of the lace layer are French seams, which I'd been itching to try out and really like. Then I finished the waist with a narrow strip of the beige, and that was that.

This skirt was an inspiration from a magazine. The model was wearing a lace skirt with a great big chunky sweater like the one I got in Scotland, and I thought, "That looks warm for church! I could do that!" I plan to wear it with tights and boots. It's also pretty awesome with a denim jacket instead of the sweater.

Skinny jeans

This is not going to morph into a fashion blog, not least because I don't care to post pictures of myself up here, but I need to say something. Skinny jeans are not a good trend. I saw a picture of Princess Kate - excuse me, Catherine Duchess of Cambridge -- in a pair, and they didn't flatter even her. She was fine, of course, but not great. And if she can't wear them, there's not much hope for anyone else.

If you want to go buy skinny jeans because they're all the rage this fall, go for it. I'm contemplating getting a pair to set off my stellar boot collection. But if you must indulge, try to wear a shirt with them that won't make you look fat, and if you show your midriff, you need to go re-think your life choices. Always remember that leggings are not pants, and jeggings... have a bad name.

But don't wear frumpy jeans, either. Bootcuts cut slim through the knees, that's my recommendation.

Turquoise and bright red jeans are awesome, though.

Sweater and skirt

I've put the red dress on hold for now and have been finishing up other projects that have been lying around.

This first is a sweater I crocheted for Meg. It's kind of got a crocheted-afghan vibe, no doubt due to the use of the classic afghan double crochet stitch.  I made it in four pieces, front, back, and sleeves, and then whipstitched it together, single-crocheted around the neckline, and embroidered a mouse. Done.

The second project was a full purple skirt for myself. I made it last winter, but it was too big and I didn't like it, so I partly disassembled it and left it in pieces in my mending pile.

It's a simple dirndl pattern, with pockets and belt loops, and I was able to just rip out the zipper and entire back seam, fold back the excess skirt and waistband on both sides so it was more my size, stitch it up, and re-insert the zipper. It was a little awkward because part of what got folded back was, in fact, gathered fabric, but I decided I didn't care. I hemstitched the loose flaps down and reattached the belt loops. Done.

It feels good to have those finished.

Dyed, not dead

 I thought I'd try dyeing some capris. These started out a peculiar lavender.

 I used powdered Rit dye in fuschia.

 You dump the dye into your hot water and get it boiling.

 And you soak your capris before adding them. My helper thought they should be scrubbed also.

 Add salt according to the directions.

 Drop in the capris and stir them until they look pretty. I thought half an hour was good.

 Run hot tap water over them until it stops leaking pink. Dye something else in the pot if you like. Then put your newly gorgeous clothes through a washer and dryer cycle. Resist your frugal urge to fill the washer load; I would definitely not recommend adding anything else, unless, of course, you want it pinkish. On the other hand, pinkish underwear could be cute.

UPDATE: This is also true for subsequent washes. I feel silly.

 

 

This ombre progression shows how much the dye vat got depleted for each pair of capris. The ones on the left were lavender denim, the middle ones were lightweight khaki cotton, and the left were white knit leggings. Now it's ALL PINK. I would have dyed something of Meg's, but it all seems to be pink already.

I was pleased. They came out a little streaky, but not bad. I think I'll dye again sometime.

The hardest part of the whole process was clearing the stovetop, countertop, sink, washer, and dryer beforehand.

How not to fix a cowboy boot

Cowboy boots: good.

This is actually a two-parter post. A two-step, if you will.

Part One:
These are my cowboy boots I got in Amarillo back when I was in college. I outgrew them while Meg was on the way. This made me sad, because they're great boots.

Then I came across a thing on Pinterest claiming that if you use a little alcohol and a hair dryer, you can stretch out a too-small shoe. I thought it was worth a try.

Whiskey: bad.

I had a few drops of this Scottish whiskey left from our honey- moon and thought it was just too awesome not to try. So I put on two pairs of socks, my boots (with Jonathan's help), whiskeyed them up, and hair dried them.

And yes! It did help! The boots are a little snug, but much better. I can take them off all by myself now.


Part Two:
I went to my sister's baby shower and sat next to the Pink Pixie and her mother. They're shoe professionals, and I thought they would be interested in my cowboy boot fix.

Actually, horrified would be closer to it. Come to find out, you should NEVER put alcohol on shoes, especially leather - that way lies crackage and destruction and all bad things. You shouldn't bombard shoes with hot air, either.

The correct technique for stretching a shoe is to hit it with a hammer. Literally. You work the leather maybe while you're watching a movie and it softens up. Or you can just wear the shoes around the house with extra socks every day until they're comfortable.

When I protested, the Pixie assured me that good things come to those who wait.

Let that be a lesson not to believe DIYs you read on the internet.

How to fix a halter-top dress

Halter dresses annoy me. Probably it's just my girlish figure, but no matter how snugly it ought to fit, the back slides down and the strings dig into my neck and the skirt hangs asymmetrically in a not at all fashionable way. And, to top it all off, if I wear a tank or something underneath, the layers get tangled up whenever I try to adjust it.

I am therefore pleased to share my cure for the common halter. It involves safety pins.

1. Put on the dress. Untie the strings.
2. Pull each string over its respective shoulder, crossing them in the back.
3. Adjust until the length is right. Have your assistant/husband safety pin the strings to the back of the dress.

Ta-da!