Maybe Matilda

iPad Book-Style Case

2012-05-14T16:21:00.002-05:00

My sweet mama loooves her iPad (and in her typical sweet grandma fashion, loves her grandson even more and lets him smudge it up with peanut butter fingerprints), but didn’t love the case she used with it quite as much. She had mentioned that she would really prefer a book-style iPad case that folds open and closed rather than the zip-top pouch case she had. Easy enough!

So I sewed her a book-style iPad case for Mothers Day—I used this tutorial from Made it on Monday to sew up the cover, and it was exactly what I needed. I think it came out pretty darn cute, if I may say so myself!

The elastic around the button keeps it closed when not in use, and elastic tabs on the inside hold the iPad in place. It’s nice and sturdy since it uses a composition notebook cover between the fabric layers, which is exactly the right size:

(My mom wants to make sure you all know that the iPad looks disgusting because she let Forrest play with it right before I took pictures. Shame on Forrest.)

I followed Jill’s instructions and only made a few modifications—obviously, I did the ruffle on my mom’s case differently than the tutorial shows. To do my ruffle, I just cut a big long piece of pink fabric (probably something like 30” long and 4” wide . . . I didn’t measure) and ruffled it along both long sides by sewing a long, loose stitch and gathering until it was the same length as the piece of fabric used for the outer cover. Then I sliced my outer cover piece roughly where I wanted the ruffle to go, and sewed in the ruffle, right sides together, then trimmed down the entire outer piece to make sure it was the correct size.

I also added fusible fleece interfacing to all the fabric pieces, inside and out, so that it would be sturdy and cushy . . . now it has a sturdy build (from the composition notebook cover in the middle), and it’s padded inside and out thanks to the fleece interfacing.

If I were to make it again, I think I might add a pocket to the inner left side to hold little notes or cards or whatever . . . but then again, I don't own an iPad, so I have no idea how useful that would actually be.

If you’re looking for a tutorial to make a case like this, check out Jill’s instructions!

Family Pictures

2012-05-07T11:36:00.001-05:00

It’s been exactly one year since our last set of family pictures were taken, so I suppose it’s high time we get some more! One of my very favorite people when we lived in Iowa (or, to be honest, one of my favorite people ever) was my friend Erica—her husband was in chiropractic school with Jeff, and she took family pictures for us a few times when we lived there. And I’m in luck, because she and her family just moved out here to Utah, to fill all my friendship/photography needs. Those needs overlap, I suppose.

Here is one of my favorite shots from our family pictures with Erica almost exactly one year ago, right before we left the Midwest:

And for comparison/marking-the-passage-of-the-cruel-hands-of-time purposes, here is one of my favorite shots from our most recent pictures, taken about 2 weeks ago (holy moly, Jeff and Forrest look exactly the same. Did I contribute a single gene to the making of this child?):

Look how much bigger that goobnugget is now! And strained smile much, Jeffry? It will probably be obvious as you look at these pictures that soooomeoooone is not a big fan of picture day. Take note: the dearly beloved blankie made its way into our family photos. I think it’s trying to take my spot in the family. [Barely related tangent: that blankie doesn’t get washed often, since Forrest generally melts down into a screaming pile of wretched baby tantrum every time I try to put it in the laundry. But it has gotten so disgusting lately—he blows his nose on it; I think I could have cracked that blanket in half, it was that crusty—that I had to stick it in the washer this weekend, despite his loud loud very loud protests. He tried valiantly to snatch it back out, and spent the whole wash/dry time crying in front of the washing machine. The tender reunion when it emerged from the dryer was truly heartwarming. We should have recorded it—he’d be a youtube sensation!]

I love these separate mommy-daddy shots with Forrest . . . I think they’re going to make their way into his bedroom soon. This one of Jeff and Forrest is so sweet:

And while I’m at it, why don’t I just toss in dozens of photos that you’ll probably scroll past at top speed? Because, let’s be honest, unless you’re looking at pictures of your own family, you don’t really care, right? Humor me. Thanks.

I truly cannot figure out how we ended up with so many photos of Forrest smiling. Because here’s how I remember it: we drove an hour to get to Erica’s house (while Forrest cried). We had dinner with Erica and family (while Forrest whined). The kids played (and Forrest whined). We headed outside for pictures (and Forrest cried). We began taking pictures (naturally, Forrest whined). A brief, 5-minute long stint of happiness when a neighbor’s dog tried to invade our family pictures (Forrest tried to climb on its back for a ride, simultaneously thrilled and terrified—equal mix of high-pitched laughter/squealing and whining). Pictures continued (endless whining, from both Forrest and Jeffry). I don’t know how she did it, but she successfully made it look like I have a constantly blissfully happy child. Such beautiful lies!

I would like to add that I love how Forrest’s belly is poking out of his shirt in half the pictures. I think his little tummy is so cute, but I suppose this really means he needs some new, bigger shirts. Or that we should all go with the exposed round-squishy-tummy look for next year’s photos.

Oh, the deception that is professional photos. Maybe you look at this picture and think, “My, what a lovely, happy, romantic couple! They look so content and in love!”

Lies, lies, lies. How it really went down . . .

Erica: (posing us) “Jeff, just pretend you’re whispering sweet nothings in her ear.”

Jeff: “What? Sweet nothings? What do I say? What does that mean? What am I whispering? What’s happening?”

Erica: “Just pretend you’re having a romantic moment.”

Jeff: “We don’t have those. I don’t know what they look like. Let’s do something else. Let’s swing Forrest around again.”

Erica: “Okay, then just pretend you’re smelling her hair.”

Jeff: “Why would I smell her hair? I wouldn’t smell her hair.”

Erica: “JUST STICK YOUR FACE ON HER HEAD.”

Jeff: (whispering, pictured above) “Are we done yet? I hate this. Let’s go home.”

Which is why you should never trust anything you see on the internet, or framed in someone’s house.

(And, since I had a handful of questions when I put these on my facebook page, my shirt is from Vanity (the belt came with it—it’s on clearance here), and my jeans are the ones I turned from bootcut into skinnies (posted here). I have no idea where any of Jeff’s clothes came from (besides the obvious answer of ‘closet floor.’ ) Forrest’s getup is from TJ Maxx.)

[If you’re in or near Tooele, Utah and want some smashing photos taken, definitely visit Erica. We’re big fans. I’m not getting paid to write this or anything—she’s just really my friend and really does a great job. She took my maternity pictures and both sets of our family pictures, and some of my biggest regrets in life are not having her take our wedding photos (too bad I met her 3 years too late for that occasion) and Forrest’s newborn pictures. I kept thinking I’d do those myself, and 20 months later, I think I may have missed my window of opportunity. Too late to do the nakey-and-sleeping-curled-up-in-a-basket-wearing-an-owl-hat shot. Shucks. Visit her facebook page here.]

My Craft Fair Booth

2012-05-01T17:37:00.001-05:00

I wonder how much longer I can drag out the sharing of little bits and pieces of the Queen Bee Market? It’s already been . . . what . . . two weeks? And I’m still posting about it. And you’ve probably read like 50,000 posts about it (and Snap) from everyothercraftblogontheinterwebs. But I am nothing if not a shameless follower, so beat the dead horse I shall!

I thought I’d show some pictures of my booth from the market. I underwent a period of deep, excruciating, procrastination-ridden stress over my booth design. Here was my cyclical, stuck-on-repeat thought process:

“An amazing booth will draw in customers. All the other vendors who do craft fairs, like, for realsies and not just for hobbiesies/funsies, are going to have amazing booths. I’ll look pathetic next to them if my booth isn’t also amazing.”

“Hold up. An amazing booth requires money and skill, two things I am lacking. And any money spent on the booth reduces the amount of money I take home from the market. Never mind, I’ll just have a crappy booth.”

Rinse and repeat. I didn’t want to spend much on the booth setup, since that would have to come out of my profits, but I didn’t want to be embarrassed of a shabby (not in the cool way) booth.

So this is what I ended up with. I thought it was pretty darn cute, but I’ll admit that it was quite overshadowed by some other vendors’ spots who clearly do these events often and have really invested in great furniture to use, backdrops, fancy shmancy signs, vintage-y accessories, etc. But you know what? Mine looked good. I thought it was attractive and neat and welcoming and displayed my items well, and it ended up being really cheap to pull together, which meant that almost every penny I made at the market was pure profit. I borrowed almost every piece of the booth—from the awesome black backdrop to the tables and even the display dishes and baskets--from kindly family and neighbors.

The breakdown:

The most expensive piece of the booth, by far, was the stupid freaking sign. Like an idiot, I waited until two days before the market to order my sign. If I had bought it online with plenty of time for it to be printed and shipped, it would have cost something like $20-30. But I was so busy stocking up, plus so indecisive about the setup and look I wanted for the booth that I realized in a panic 2 days before the market that I had no sign. I had to have it printed at Office Max the day before the market began, and it rang up to $75 (it was a 4x2 foot vinyl banner). Ouch. It kills me that I didn’t just plan this ahead of time and save $50. The silver lining I’m hanging onto with a vicious grip of death is that I’m planning to hang my overpriced (yet fantastic-looking!) sign in the craft room I don’t yet have. In the house I don’t yet have. Won’t that be cool?

One of my big concerns for the booth was height. I can’t imagine that dozens of hats just plunked flat on a table makes for a very visually appealing shopping experience. I wanted to figure out a way to create some height and depth in my booth so my items weren’t just lying there, all sad and droopy-looking on a table. A sweet neighbor let me borrow cake platters and dessert stands (like the three staggered plate stands on the right in the picture above) which were perfect for adding a little dimension and height to the booth. Styrofoam heads ($5 each at Hobby Lobby) were another great way to lift a few items higher up off the table as well as show how they might like on you. If you are blue or green, hairless, and bodyless.

My favorite display touch was the clotheslines . . . I just brought some scrap yarn and clothespins, and used duct tape to fasten the ends of the yarn to the back of the backdrop. It was a great way to, again, add some height, as well as feature some smaller items that might have gone unnoticed on the table. And it cost something like $2 for a gigantic package of clothespins at Walmart, so it was a really inexpensive way to add some personality and height to the display.

Another dessert stand and bowl (borrowed from a neighbor) added some height to a cute side table (my mom’s) and made it easier to organize some of the goods.

I thought this was kind of nifty . . . a neighbor let me borrow this metal tree (I believe she said it was from Rod Works), which was the perfect way to showcase dozens of little headbands. (Thank goodness for a church facebook page on which I could plead for display item donations . . . all these kind ladies came to my rescue with dishes and trees and baskets and platters and on and on . . . saved me so much money and stress!)

I had a few 8x10s printed of my items being worn . . . hats and headbands look okay just lying around, but they look 1000% better on a person. Especially if that person is an adorable chubby baby. So I had some cheap prints made at Walgreens, then just taped them to the backdrop. I think this actually made a big difference . . . I noticed quite a few people strolling by my booth without hardly slowing down, then noticing my big adorable baby photos and stopping to take a look. I even caught a few people snapping pictures of my pictures on their cell phones, so I think they were a great way to slow people down and catch their attention. Plus, it added some color and interest to the rather boring black background, which was nice.

My final booth technique, if we can call it that, was to make sure I wore something I was selling both days . . . even as I was wandering around doing shopping of my own, I had a few people ask where I’d bought my cute hat or headband, and I was more than happy to inform them where they could find one just like it. I wore one of my slouchy berets the first day (pictured above, and available here) and a big flower headband the second day (right here).

If you’re going to take anything away from this craft booth post, let it be this: do it early and do it cheap. I would have definitely saved myself a lot of stress and money if I had ordered that dumb sign earlier, and the whole process would have gone more smoothly if I had planned what I wanted my booth to look like from the beginning. And, personally, I don’t think it’s worth it to spend a lot of money creating an attractive booth. Some booths at the market were very obviously very expensive to put together, and unless you do fairs like this for a living and know you’ll make a killing, I just don’t think it’s wise to spend much for the sake of having a cute spot. Talk to friends and neighbors about borrowing tables and display items . . . it’s just too expensive to go out and get everything yourself to create a booth one time. Not worth it! How sad would it be to spend a fortune on a booth that you don’t make back in sales? Or to walk away with like $15 in profit because you had to have an impressive, pricey booth?

There were so many great vendors there . . . some of my personal favorites were:

Trinkets and Butterflies :: this shop is one of those cases where pictures just don’t do the item justice. Brittany creates the most stunningly beautiful jewelry using real butterfly wings. Real. Butterfly. Wings. I’ve never seen anything like it before, and I took home a gorgeous butterfly wing pendant necklace . . . I’m still over the moon excited about it. So lovely.

Cinnamon Sticks :: I could not get over Canela’s amazing jewelry, either . . . it had such a beautiful, simple, rustic charm, but was so incredibly detailed and well-made. You know how some “handmade” jewelry shops are just buying pre-made pieces and putting them together? Well, Canela’s jewelry is all completely handmade . . . as in, she does whatever silversmith-y work is involved in turning a lump of metal into a ring or a bracelet or a necklace. Gorgeous work, gorgeous style. And Canela herself is an absolute delight—I fell a little bit in love with her. Okay, fine, a lotta bit.

Karol’s Handmade Soap :: this booth was a huge hit at the market—everywhere I walked, people were talking about ‘the soap lady’—and for good reason. Her soaps looked and smelled incredible, were beautifully packaged, and made for a great, inexpensive purchase. I already regret not buying some (although I certainly walked by and sniffed her booth often enough) . . . I think they’d make such a great hostess or Mother’s Day gift.

Romantical

2012-04-29T14:33:00.002-05:00

I have spent the last several minutes trying to think of a way to flesh this out into something truly blog-post-worthy ('several minutes' being far more time and preparation than normally go into this internet grab-bag/wasteland that I call a blog) and am coming up empty. Which probably means this is not worth blogging about.

But riddle me this: what am I supposed to do when my dear sweet husband presents me with an anniversary mix tape full of songs that have "special meaning" (his words) to us as a couple? And when track 3 of said mix tape of romantic sap turns out to be Gold Digger, that quintessential love song by the deep-feeling and ever-emotional Kanye West, am I not supposed to share this precious golden nugget of sentimental drivel with anonymous strangers on the internet?

This is what blogs are for. And such is the idyllic, poetic, romantical nonsense of a 5-year marriage.

Shop Sale!

2012-04-25T15:04:00.001-05:00

The Queen Bee Market has come and gone, I’m slowly catching up on the housework that I willfully neglected for the past few weeks while I sat crocheting instead, I’m admiring my own purchases . . . but I’ve got some leftover stock on my hands that didn’t sell at the Market! (I can almost hear what you’re thinking: those nutjobs at Snap Conference didn’t wipe my booth clean?! I know, I know. I’m thinking the same thing.)

But their loss is your gain . . . all my items that didn’t sell at the Market have been marked down and placed in my Etsy shop for you to snatch up! Yay! They’ve already been discounted (up to 30% off regular prices!) so you don’t have to worry about applying a coupon code to get the savings . . . the markdown has already been taken off the listing price. Hurry and check it out—I just added the sale items and they’re already flying off the proverbial shelves. All of the sale items are listed in the “Baby Ready to Ship” and “Women Ready to Ship” shop sections (the sections are located on the upper left hand side of the shop), so you can find your clearance goodies there! Here are some of the treasures you’ll find:

These large flower headbands were one of my personal favorite items from the show— a great way to add some color and fun to a simple spring/summer outfit! Marked down from $14 to $11. (Plus, they’re fully adjustable . . . they tie in the back, so they’ll fit anyone and any head size, from baby through adult.)

I made a mountain of these button beanies with interchangeable flowers in sizes all the way from teensy newborn to child and have a pretty good variety of sizes and colors remaining. Each hat comes with 3 flowers (pick your own colors!) so you can easily change up the look. I love ‘em! Marked down from $26 to $20.

(And because you have to see how cute they look on a little bebe:)

(Awwwwwww!)

Another personal fave . . . I really love wearing these slouchy hats, and would secretly not be very disappointed if I ended up having to keep a lot of them for myself. I might be biased because I made them myself (not unlike the mother who swoons over even the most hideous of her child’s photos), but I am of the opinion that they look great on everybody and go with just about every outfit. Win win win win win. Marked down from $28 to $20! I can hardly believe I’m selling them that cheap. I’ll try not to change my mind about it.

I’ve also got a handful of these little elf hats (from newborn through toddler sizes):

And just a few bear hats:

I love these little headbands—a total steal at $8 each—in sizes from newborn through toddler and a whole rainbow of colors:

And of course, these headwraps are always a popular item—I love that they’re cool enough to wear in warm weather, but they’ll definitely still be useful in the fall and winter. Marked down to just $14:

Whew! I think there are a few stragglers I’m leaving out, but hopefully that’s enough motivation for you to head on over and shop your lil’ heart out. When they’re gone, they’re gone, and jumping back up to my normal prices, so if you’ve got your heart set on something, it would be wise not to wait too long.

(All of these items are available as custom orders as well—you pick the size and colors—but the discounted items are all ready-made and ready to ship out!)

This and That

2012-04-23T13:03:00.001-05:00

1) I'm guest posting over at See Kate Sew today, sharing the ruffled duvet cover that currently graces the ol' marital bed. You know what adds a nice dosage of awkwardness to a blog post? Referring to my bed as my marital bed. You're uncomfortable, aren't you? So am I. But here's a picture of the bedspread, which shows almost none of the bedspread but is more well-lit and attractive than any pictures that do show the bedspread:

Click on over if you want to see/read a little more about it. And wanna hear something neat? I met Kate over the weekend. She's, like, so cute in person I almost can't stand it. And in case you're wondering, I did not mention my marital bed in my conversation with her. That was just a special treat for you, reading at home.

2) Speaking of things that are so cute I almost can't stand them, do you happen to read One Dog Woof? ChiWei just started blogging pretty recently and I love her style and projects. She's doing her first giveaway ever, and up for grabs is a little crochet giraffe so precious I almost want to put him in my mouth and eat him up. (Tell me I'm not the only one with the weird instinct to put cute things [like giraffes and my child] in my mouth.) Go check it out and show her some love!

3) The long-awaited/long-feared Queen Bee Market was this past weekend! I'll do a real post about it later, but for now, enjoy this picture of me Vanna-White-ing my booth:

If this whole crochet business doesn't work out, I'm fairly certain I have a bright future in Creative Gesturing.

4) In case you've been wondering how goes the house-hunting, the answer is: still rather sucky. For those of you keeping score at home, tally up two more homes that we've made offers on and lost to higher/faster bidders, bringing the total to three houses we haven't gotten. Jeff's facebook status on the subject sums it up rather nicely:

Whoever said it's better to have loved and lost is a real idiot, I have loved and lost three houses and it's horrible.

5) Since I am an angelic model parent who would never exploit her child's beauty for material gain or worldly fame and honor, I certainly did not enter him in THIS beautiful baby contest where he could win a super-sweet outdoor playset. And I certainly would not encourage you to head over to this page and vote for child #520 if you have a spare moment and want my outdoors-obsessed child to love you forever. But because I believe in fairness, I am compelled to inform you that my true, unbiased opinion after hours of scrutiny and careful deliberation is that child #520 is the best-looking of the bunch. Or just ever. Anywhere.

Queen Bee Market

2012-04-18T10:13:00.000-05:00

The day I've been looking forward to and dreading, in equal parts, is almost here! Are you coming to the Queen Bee Market at Snap Conference this weekend?

It's going to be cool. Let me count the ways:

1) All handmade goodies. You know how sometimes you go to "craft shows" and they're mostly cheap jewelry or somebody selling maple syrup or flea market booths with sellers who just wanted a space to get rid of the crap in their basement? Well. All the vendors at the Queen Bee Market had to apply and be personally approved by the organizers, so it's all handmade goodies, all quality items, no unrelated booths that have no business being in a craft show.

2) No door charge. Who wants to pay before they've even picked out any treasures? The Queen Bee Market is free and open to the public, so just waltz on in and only part with your money once you're good and ready and have some fun new stuff to show for it.

3) I'll be there. Yes sirree Bob, I will. I might be quivering in fear since I've spent the better part of two months procrastinating and worrying about this, or I might be completely overshadowed by the bigger badder booths who make a living out of events like these (while I, a mere frumpy hobbyist mother, am just doing this for fun), or giddy with excitement over all the fun items I plan to buy. Whether quivering from nerves or excitement, I will be there. And there will be quivering.

4) Check out the vendors ahead of time . . . get excited. There are so many awesome vendors lined up! You can see a full list of vendors right HERE and browse some of the merchandise ahead of time. I'm honestly a little concerned that I'll spend way more than I make.

So if you're in Utah and up for some fun shopping this weekend, mark your calendar and head out. The Market is at Thanksgiving Point in Lehi, in the show barn, from 7-9 PM on Friday and 9 AM to 3 PM on Saturday. Visit the Queen Bee Market's website for more info. And leave a comment if you're coming . . . I want to know who to look for!

My eardrums are bleeding.

2012-04-06T15:41:00.001-05:00

I’ve said it before: I’m not much of a captions-on-baby-photos person. I guess I should say I never thought I would be, but here we are. There’s a big fat checkmark next to this one on the list of Things I’d Never Do As a Mother. That embarrassing list keeps getting shorter and shorter. But heaven help me, this ridiculous boy keeps giving me pictures that are just begging for captions. Truly, how can I not stick some goofy quote onto a photo like this?

If I knew anything at all about sports, I’d try to come up with a funny basketball caption to pop on that one, but I’ll save myself the embarrassment. It would probably say something about a touchdown and a basketball costume (can’t figure out why Jeff acts annoyed that I think they’re called costumes, by the way) and maybe a home run.

I bought Forrest that little basketball outfit at a garage sale when I was pregnant, shortly after we found out he was sporting boy bits, and have been waiting all this time for it to fit him. Worth the wait. He looks so stinking cute I almost can’t stand it. I thought I’d have to be satisfied with boring reading photos until he picked up that phone. This boy may not have a lot to say yet, but what he does say must be said at full volume.

If you have a caption suggestion, I’d love to hear it.

Mr. Mood Swing

2012-03-29T11:52:00.001-05:00

Every day, it becomes a little more painfully obvious: we are getting further from sweet, chubby, angelic age one and, step by terrifying step, approaching the dreaded two.

I’ll let little Mr. Mood Swing share a few recent examples from this emotional journey:

4 seconds later . . .

Being offered a piece of donut, homemade (and so delicious!) by his Grandpa Brown:

Oh wait . . . hang on . . .

That’s what I thought.

I have no freakin’ clue what this one was about:

But I’m not terribly sympathetic to whatever plight he was suffering through, since it was miraculously fixed 2.4 seconds later.

What, you think it’s funny to interrupt me while I read?

(This is the face I get 99% of the time now when I try to take pictures. Charming.)

Must . . . not . . . smile . . .

Thank goodness his completely unpredictable mood pendulum swings both ways. I hate to say it, but let’s be honest: this kid is not a pretty crier.

I’ll give him this—it’s never boring around here. And if, for some reason, it ever is, just wait about 5 seconds until his next mood swing hits . . . it’ll sure get interesting quickly.

House Hunting: And so it begins . . .

2012-03-27T16:26:00.001-05:00

I think I mentioned in a post recently that we’ve started searching for a house. This is something I’ve looked forward to for a long time and expected to be very exciting. I was right, it is exciting, but not so much in the “kid at Disneyland” way . . . more in the way that being chased by a rabid dog is probably exciting. We’ve had a few Disneyland moments, but plenty of rabid dog moments, too. Maybe house hunting is kind of like being chased by a rabid dog through Disneyland? Actually, house hunting with a plentiful budget is probably Disneyland. Our budget = rabid dog. There are plenty of houses on the market in our price range, but 90% are short sales (which makes me a little nervous—after 5 years of waiting to buy a house, I’m not sure how much more waiting I want to put myself through), and the 10% that aren’t short sales are generally pretty scary.

We’ve been renting for about 7 or 8 years now and you know, it’s starting to feel a little old. Renting has its perks--no repairs, no yard work, no snow-shoveling--but it certainly comes with its own set of issues . . . no options in style/paint colors/etc., Satan’s-minions landlords like we had in our previous rental, slow-moving [but very friendly!] landlord who hasn’t fixed our broken toilet in the 9 months we’ve lived in our current rental . . . you know the drill.

We took our first trip out with our realtor a few weeks ago and it was certainly an eye-opening experience . . . our eyes are bulging-out-of-their-sockets open now.

Our first stop was at a 150-year old ivy-covered stone house north of Salt Lake. I’m a sucker for old houses—one of the homes I grew up in was a 200-year old farm house in upstate New York, and I love the charm and personality that come with an older house. The MLS listing for the gem we looked at has been taken down so I can’t snag a picture to include, but I’m sure you can use your imagination. The pictures made the house look country-cottage-y-adorable, set in a big yard with a fence, and the interior shots looked spacious, bright, and welcoming. The house was near the top of our price range, but I was dying to see it, so it was our first stop.

I pictured Thomas Kincaid cottage charm . . . I got Scooby Doo haunted mansion. The house was a nightmare. The ‘spacious yard’ in the pictures turned out to be a little patch of dirt circled by a fence with half its slats missing. The inside was shockingly awful . . . dirty beyond belief (I actually said at one point, “I wonder why they gave all the trim this gray antique glaze,” running my finger over it to come up with a handful of nasty, 150-year old grime), ceilings that even we shorties could barely stand up straight in, a maze-like layout that had us lost and confused more than once, itsy-bitsy door-less-and-closet-less nooks that were billed as bedrooms, additions that didn’t line up or connect with the original structure (picture the floor just ending and starting up again, 3 inches over and half a foot higher), a staircase to nowhere (not making that up—a door in the wall that we expected to be a closet was hiding a staircase that went up about 6 steps and then just stopped). Even the realtor was shocked—he said he’d never, in all his years as a realtor, seen such deceiving photos on a listing. I still think it would make an amazing house . . . if a buyer is willing to put probably $50,000+ into repairs and updates and a complete cleaning overhaul. I am definitely not that buyer. Strike one.

After stopping by a few townhouses that I was not terribly impressed with, we looked at another house that I had hardly even wanted to see—the listing price was over $10k out of our price range and I didn't particularly want to fall in love with a home I knew we couldn’t afford. But the house was amazing . . . it was in our dream neighborhood—the one we can’t actually afford but love to drive through, slowly and creepily, peering into people’s windows—and had everything we wanted in a home. Clean, spacious, updated, with plenty of room to grow . . . and it was a HUD home, which meant the government was just trying to sell it fast, so maybe we had a chance at it! We put in a bid as high as we felt comfortable going . . . and didn’t get the house. Not surprising, and we hadn’t gotten our hopes up too high, but of course that hadn’t stopped me from planning out all the decor, checking out paint samples, and window shopping for new furniture. Smart moves on my part, all around. Strike two.

Which brings us to this past weekend. Our realtor was out of town, so we thought we’d just drive around to get a feel for some different areas and maybe drive by (creepily, of course, that’s how we do it) some homes on the list of places we wanted to check out when our realtor got back. As we were driving, we spotted a for sale sign in front of a home that we hadn’t seen in the MLS listings . . . it was in a decent-looking neighborhood with a pretty-okay-looking exterior. It wasn’t an amazing house, but I saw potential. We hopped out to grab a flyer—the price was near the bottom end of our budget—and saw that the home was vacant and shoppers were encouraged to take a peek. We looked through all the windows and decided the previous owners must have moved out mid-renovation . . . all the carpets were ripped up, doors were missing, etc.

No big deal—if we got at at or below its listing price, we could afford to put some serious work into the place. I was actually a little excited at the thought of all the renovations—for the price, we could not only snatch that house up and remodel it to be exactly what we wanted, but we’d probably still come out with extra money bouncing around in our house budget. The backyard was what really sold me—it was set on a corner lot and had a spacious, beautiful yard, fully fenced with a garden in one corner, a stone walkway and patio. I pictured myself setting Forrest free in that gorgeous yard while I sat inside eating cupcakes and watching Ellen. It was a lovely moment.

We called the listing agent twice without hearing back from him and started to get anxious—what if someone else had snatched up our bargain house? What if someone was signing a contract for it right now? In typical fashion, I was already planning the new floors I’d put in and shopping around for outdoor furniture for that amazing backyard, working on my garden layout (I’ve killed every plant I’ve ever owned in record time, not sure why I thought I could handle a garden).

Last night, we finally got a call back from the listing agent who was very excited to hear from some interested shoppers. He and Jeff had a long phone conversation—well, it was long on the agent’s end. Jeff got maybe two words in while I watched his expression morph slowly from excitement to horror. Wonder why that house was such a bargain?

It was a meth house.

A meth house.

A METH HOUSE!!!

The agent was telling Jeff not to worry—the previous owners were just recreational users! It’s okay! Just recreational meth users! They weren’t making meth! Just using it for fun! No worries! It’s cool!

And the meth-lab-tester-people had to tear out all the carpets because they tested positive for brain-damage-inducing meth levels! No biggie!

Oh, and the druggie previous owners also stripped the house before they left! There are no toilets! Or sinks! The furnace is gone! The water heater, too! It’s just an empty, hazardous, life-threatening shell of a meth house! When would you like to come see it?!

Strike three. The search continues. I can only hope that this weekend’s showings keep up this streak of rabid-dog-chase excitement, because I sure would hate to get bored by this whole house-hunting thing. It is just as exciting as I had imagined.

I’m a dum-dum + giveaway update

2012-03-24T21:31:00.001-05:00

I certainly don’t consider myself a computer/internet wiz, but I was starting to feel pretty swell about my technology skills . . . I can write a blog post! I can search for people’s names on facebook without accidentally making their name my status! (Jeff’s grandma does that—cutest, most hilarious thing I’ve ever seen.) Heck, I can even make words send you to other places! A technology goddess, I tell you, right over here.

Until this morning. I have 3 separate email accounts (a business one, an older one I never use, and a current all-purpose one) that are all imported into the all-purpose email account (3 emails become one! Internet genius!). I’ve noticed a bit of a decrease in the amount of mail I’ve been receiving lately, but didn’t think much of it . . . after all, I am posting less often on the blog than I used to and am certainly not putting much work into ye olde etsy shop, so I wasn’t surprised to be receiving dwindling numbers of messages.

Then, this morning. I somehow wound up in the settings of my email account, where I noticed a disturbing little line of text that said something like this: “Messages from maybematildaquilts [att] gmail [dot] com (my business email address) have not been retrieved since March 10, 2012.” WHAT?! My business emails—of all the email addresses to not retrieve, the business emails!—haven’t been imported to the only account I check?

I think that sound I’m hearing right now is my Internet Goddess award being repossessed.

SO. If you wrote one of the 50+ emails that was waiting in my untouched, undisturbed business email account, I am very sorry to have not responded for weeks. I’m working on it. Among those unnoticed emails was one from Tanya of 5 Berries Patterns, the giveaway that’s running right here right now, explaining how I could get you your 30% coupon to use in her shop if you gave her a facebook shoutout!

(In case you’ve forgotten about this giveaway, here’s a reminder of the dresses I made using one of her scrumptious patterns:)

(BAHAHAHAHA!!!)

If you already left a comment on the giveaway post saying you gave a facebook shoutout, I’ll be emailing you shortly with your coupon code! And if not, what the euphemism are you waiting for?

Go to facebook +

Post a link to 5 Berries Patterns as your status +

Come back to the giveaway post and tell me you did it (make sure to leave an email address!)

= I’ll email you a coupon code for a 30% discount in her shop.

Got it? Awesome. Have a nice weekend. I’ll just be over here, massaging my pride, and maybe reading Internet Basics for Dummies. I want that Internet Goddess award back.

Scavenger

2012-03-21T11:18:00.001-05:00

Forrest has become quite the little scavenger lately. He searches the house each day for interesting items (“interesting items” usually means a sippy cup—he finds beverages most interesting) and stores them around the house in cunning hiding spots. The other night after he went to bed, I spent half an hour searching for the sippy cup full of milk I knew he hadn’t finished . . . it finally turned up the next morning, still full of milk, inside one of my galoshes. Very sneaky—I’m always finding things in strange places. I was folding laundry yesterday and a contact case fell out of a shirt. I have my suspicions about who put a contact case in the laundry basket.

I have photographic evidence of his scavenging habits. They’re all cell phone pics so, you know, enjoy this artistic brilliance.

Favorite puppy? Into the washing machine you go. I’ll come back for you later.

For reasons clear only to a toddler, this pitcher has become a favorite toy recently. It has also become a favorite hiding spot, and the poor child seems truly surprised when we’re able to easily find the treasures he’s hidden inside it.

I spent a good amount of time the other day searching for my dry shampoo . . . why did I waste time looking through the bathroom drawers and cabinets when I should have checked his little red wagon first?

Now, this one makes more sense . . . a sippy cup fits right in with all those kitchen utensils.

Under the cushion of the rocking chair makes more sense as a clever hiding spot for the sippy cup, in theory . . . but in practice? It wasn’t very hard to spot.

I shouldn’t have been surprised to find a contact lens case in the dryer after finding this thermos artfully hidden inside the laundry basket.

Butter dish on the computer chair. Sure, why not?

This concerns me slightly in planning for a second child someday . . . where will I find his poor, hypothetical future sibling hidden?

5 Berries Dresses (and pattern giveaway)

2012-03-19T09:50:00.001-05:00

It’s official: I’m going to need a daughter someday. You got that, Universe? Message received? I sure love my little fellow, but I can’t deny that sewing for little ladies is just a lot more fun than sewing for misters.

My little niece up there thinks so, too.

Tanya from 5 Berries Sewing Patterns offered me a pattern to sew up and review, as well as over $70 in patterns to give away to you guys . . . yowza!

I chose the Eloise Dress pattern—I loved the classic shape and the playful, feminine ruffle around the keyhole . . . adorable!

It was so much fun to sew, and I love the finished dresses on my pretty nieces! I think they like their new dresses, too . . . their mom reports that they refused to take them off for the rest of the day, even after a rough-and-tumble playground session in them (during an afternoon that was probably a tad chilly for sleeveless outfits). I’ll consider that a success.

All right, let me tell you a little about the pattern and my thoughts on sewing with it. All of the patterns from 5 Berries are instant downloads, which is awesome—that means no waiting for the pattern to be emailed or snail-mailed to you. When I buy patterns, I’m excited to start them now, so it’s awesome to be able to get going right away without a wait!

The pattern itself was extremely detailed and well-written. I always get a little nervous sewing clothing—I love to sew, but clothing is not my forte and I don’t have tons of experience sewing clothing from start to finish. But even though the pattern I chose is rated an intermediate level, I didn’t have any major issues while working on it—the instructions were well-written and detailed, and there was a photo to help explain every step along the way. The only question I had while sewing might be obvious in the picture above—the skirt isn’t as full and gathered on the black/white dress as the pink version of the dress, because I misinterpreted the instructions and only cut the skirt half as wide as I should have—whoops! It still came out adorably cute and is plenty wide for playing in, and Tanya even changed the directions in the pattern to make it clearer so no one else will make my silly mistake again. It’s pretty near foolproof now!

My favorite feature of the pattern was the plentiful photos throughout—I find that so helpful when I’m sewing! The directions themselves were clear, but there were photos for every step, making it almost impossible to mess anything up or misinterpret instructions. I loved having the photos to refer to as I sewed . . . they really helped me create a more professional-looking product and avoid unnecessary mistakes.

I even learned an important sewing skill that I’ve been terrified to try until now: buttonholes! I love the look of the buttons on this dress . . . it almost reminds me of a wedding dress with buttons from the neck to the hemline. And of course I had to go with purple buttons and a purple sash for this little princess’s dress. I’ll give you three guesses on her favorite color. (Answer: “poh-pole.”)

(And if the dresses look a little short on the girls, that’s my fault . . . I didn’t measure them for sizing [naturally] and didn’t take into account how tall they both are for their age! They’re definitely above average in the height department, so I should have cut the skirts a tad longer. Next time.)

And despite the dressier style, these dresses also make great outfits for playtime. They have plenty of room for little ones to climb, and run, and slide, and swing.

Ahem. What? I had to try it on someone before giving it away! Jeff was horrified that I would put our son in a dress, but found comfort in the fact that he was clearly not enjoying himself. Unlike a certain photo I have of Jeff himself as a toddler in a dress and hairbow, where he’s beaming and laughing in his getup. I’ll resist posting that picture. But I can’t help but notice that Forrest looks rather darling in that dress, wouldn’t you agree?

Okay, now for the giveaway!

5 Berries is offering two prizes today—a first place winner will receive $50 in patterns of their choice, and a second place winner will receive $22 in patterns of their choice!

To enter to win:

1) Visit 5 Berries Sewing Patterns, then come back here and leave a comment telling me your favorite pattern from the shop.

2) Give this giveaway a shout-out on facebook (something like: “I’m entering to win $50 worth of children’s clothing patterns from 5 Berries on Maybe Matilda!” with a link to this giveaway page), then leave a comment telling me you did so (as well as a link, please!).

There you have it! Please leave separate comments for each entry, and make sure I have a way to reach you, either by including your email address in your comment or by enabling email on your Google account (follow the instructions here).

One last thing! Whether you win the giveaway or not, posting a link to this giveaway on your facebook page will earn you a 30% discount to use at 5 Berries on any amount of patterns! (I forgot to discuss with Tanya how to get/use your coupon code, so I’ve sent her an email and I’ll post with details later about how to redeem your coupon! Check back soon!)

Pi(e) Day and Simple Hot Fudge Sauce Recipe

2012-03-15T11:20:00.001-05:00

I’m pretty lame when it comes to holidays. I don’t do much decorating (this past Christmas was actually the first year we’ve ever put up a tree), I don’t have traditional recipes I make each year, and I don’t make my child a special holiday outfit to wear. I have nothing against any of that, I’m just lazy and cheap and can’t seem to get excited about spending weeks creating handmade holiday decorations only to take them down again 2 weeks later. I know, I’m a grinch. Sorry.

But a semi-made-up holiday all about pie? Now THAT is a holiday I can get behind.

Speaking of Pi Day, I was very disappointed by the conspicuous absence of a solid Rebecca Black “Friday”/Pi Day parody. Don’t even waste your time youtube-ing it. Internet, you have let me down!

We celebrated Pi Day yesterday with this Frozen Peanut Butter Cheesecake Pie (recipe here), which was a-freakin’-mazing. It’s not really the first thing that comes to mind when you think “pie,” but Jeff always, without fail, requests cheesecake if I give him dessert options, and the poor boy’s been working those adjust-y fingers to the bone lately, so I figured a cheesecake pie was the least I could do. Well, the very least I could do would be nothing, which is what I normally do. So this was the second-least I could do.

The pie was so, so tasty, and I really wanted to make homemade hot fudge sauce to top it off. I have nothing against store-bought hot fudge (I have certainly been known to eat it straight from the jar), but homemade is definitely better, and definitely less expensive. Most of the hot fudge recipes I looked at called for a lot of ingredients that I don’t normally have in the house—I try pretty hard, actually, to not keep standard dessert ingredients like baking squares or chocolate chips or heavy cream on hand because I really don’t need to give in to my 10:30 at night “let’s make cookies! A lot of them! RIGHT NOW!” whims—but I remembered a recipe from a neighborhood cookbook Jeff’s mom gave me (the absolute best cookbook I own, actually . . . everything I’ve made from it has been delicious). It uses normal, pantry staple ingredients that even a non-pantry-stocker like me tends to have sitting around, and oooooooh, it is good. And it was contributed to the cookbook by someone named Margie, and I really feel like I can trust recipes from a person named Margie. That just sounds like the name of somebody who can really cook, am I right?

Simple Hot Fudge Sauce

6 tablespoons margarine or butter

2 cups powdered sugar

1/3 cup cocoa powder

1 cup evaporated milk

Melt butter/margarine in saucepan. Add sugar and cocoa and mix well. Add evaporated milk gradually, whisking until smooth. Bring to a boil over medium heat and cook, stirring constantly, about 5 minutes.

Mmmmm. Thick, rich, delicious hot fudge. No unusual ingredients, no emergency run to the grocery store, no way to accidentally ruin the recipe. Simple and delicious. Thank you, Margie, whoever you are.

Is this real life?

2012-03-12T12:12:00.001-05:00

(If you’re stopping by to enter the 5 Berries pattern giveaway . . . we’ve postponed until next week—sorry for the inconvenience! Check back Monday, March 19th for the giveaway!)

These past two weeks have sure been a doozy. (Or, since it was multiple weeks, am I supposed to pluralize and call them doozies? That just doesn’t sound right. Doozies? Doozy? I give up.) We took a whirlwind trip to Pennsylvania to visit Jeff’s family, then came home and started house-hunting (yikes). I played single mom for a few exhausting days while Jeff pulled 12-ish-hour workdays, all while I was crocheting like a madwoman to stock up for the Queen Bee Market next month.

My fingers hurt. My brain hurts. My ears hurt, because of course Forrest is teething (constantly) and misses his dad and is not shy about expressing his anger. My hat is off to actual single mothers. And last night, I woke up to my sleep-talking husband sitting up in bed in the middle of the night, demanding to know who I was and what I had done with Forrest. (Yes, I’m a kidnapper. I took your child and then climbed into bed with you and fell asleep. That’s what we kidnappers do, didn’t you know?)

Anyway. I’m sure what you REALLY wanted to hear today was a crazy story about a naturopathic nutso calling me fat, right? Isn’t that what you scour blogs for? That’s the reason I’m a blog reader, really . . . I just keep waiting for wild fat stories. Well, today I. CAN. DELIVER! This should be a nice Monday pick-me-up for you . . .

The reason Jeff was having such long days at work was to man his office’s booth at the Salt Lake Tribune Home and Garden Show. He got me a few free tickets, so my sister, sister-in-law, Forrest, and I headed up Saturday afternoon to check it out. We were standing by the Vitamix booth, scoring ourselves some free smoothies and doing our best to avoid eye contact with any salespeople. I’m a master of the awkward mumble-and-sidestep move to get around booth pitchmen. I feel like wearing a sign to these sorts of things—“I have no money. I seriously cannot buy your stuff. But I will gladly accept your free samples.”

I feel a tap on my shoulder as someone says, “Ma’am, is that your baby?” In a moment of panic, I spin around, expecting to see Forrest has escaped from his stroller and is being carried off by a stranger (the sort of person who will later fall asleep in our bed after kidnapping our child, I’m sure), and see a middle-aged man pointing at Forrest (who is just sitting in his stroller). I say yes, and he immediately launches into an extremely confusing sales pitch . . . after a brief intro of himself as a wildly famous and successful naturopath (which I somehow doubt), he starts talking about his wife, who was able to have a vaginal birth against all odds, and don’t we all dream of a vaginal birth, and wouldn’t you like to have a vaginal birth, and so on. I’m not sure if you’ve ever been in the position of having a male stranger accost you in a crowded room and preach to you about the excitement and wonder of a vaginal birth, but I’ll tell you this: it’s kind of awkward. I didn’t particularly want to hear about his wife’s vaginal birth. I got really tired of hearing him say the words “vaginal birth.” You’re probably getting tired of it, too. And all this time, I still had no idea what he was trying to sell me . . . a vaginal birth? Do they sell those these days?

He finally hands me this little card, pictured below, and says to me with great intensity, staring me down in a sort of sisterly, compassionate, I-feel-your-pain kind of way, “I know how hard it can be for moms to lose weight.”

OH NO HE DIDN’T! Tell me that a stranger, a middle-aged man, did NOT just approach me, ask if I was a mother, and tell me he gets it. He can finally help me lose all this baby weight I’m dragging around. Really, sir? This is your sales pitch? To find women carting children around, approach them in the middle of a huge group where they can’t possibly escape from you and your uncomfortable vaginal-birth-ridden sales pitch, and tell them, “I can help you lose that disgusting chub clinging to every inch of your body!”?

While I’m puzzling through all of this, wondering if this is real life or maybe there’s a hidden camera somewhere and this will be airing on TV later, he’s pointing at the woman on the card and telling me that if she did it, I can, too! With his help and his magical herbs, I can lose the stomach pooch (that’s a quote! he seriously said “stomach pooch!”) that plagues us mothers! I think he started to realize how awful this was sounding (and maybe noticing the looks of complete bewilderment and simmering rage on my face), so he tried to backtrack with a less-than-tactful, “And I, uhhhh, I’m only offering this to you because you look, uhhh, fit and slender! I don’t even try to talk overweight people into this program because they just don’t care about their health!”

GOOD SAVE, DOC. First I was a chubby, poochy, pathetic and unmotivated mom who needed your rescuing, but now you’ve changed your mind and decided that I am actually slender and that is why I need to lose weight with your assistance? Not to mention that you think being overweight means you just don’t give a crap about your health? I would have to disagree with that statement . . .

He finally bowed out not too gracefully by letting me know that I could email him with any questions and he’d just looooove to work with me. I bet. I do have a few questions, come to think of it. Mostly about the nature of his sales pitch and the questionable wisdom in calling potential customers fat. I’d also love to learn a little more about his wife’s vaginal birth, because I certainly didn’t hear enough about that.

(By the way, this is SO not a request for compliments and reassurance about my figure. I feel just dandy about my appearance and my health, no thanks to Mr. Nutty Naturopath up there. It was just one of those “is this real life?” moments that simply cannot be kept off the internet. And if you are interested in his products or want to get his email address . . . I am definitely not passing it along to you. A salesman of his caliber needs to go out of business, pronto.)

11 Questions

2012-02-29T10:50:00.001-06:00

I usually don’t participate in the whole blog tag game thing . . . but I was tagged twice in two days this week (by Maggie of Midwestern Sewing Girl and Jennifer of Finding My Way In Texas). That just seems serendipitous, doesn’t it? Plus my buddy/stalkee Chelsea of Two Twenty One did a Q&A post recently that I thought was really fun to read. So heck, why not? I bet you were just dying to learn more random crap about me, right? On the edge of your seats, I’m sure.

When was the last time you cried? And why?

Oh dear. This question is more relevant than you know, Maggie. Once upon a time, I was actually kind of proud of how little I cried—I didn’t cry when Jeff proposed or during our wedding ceremony, I didn’t cry during sad movies . . . I just didn’t cry very often. Then I got pregnant with Forrest, and wouldn’t you know it, I was crying over everything, from the cute little baby lions on Animal Planet (that is true) to hearing baby boy’s heartbeat. I looked forward to the day the raging pregnancy hormones would dissipate and I could get back to my normal heart-of-stone tearless state. To the contrary, my insane hormonal emotions have only gotten worse since Forrest was born—I cry just about every day now, and it hardly takes anything to set me off. I cry over videos of soldiers coming home (here’s a mix for you—tell me that doesn’t get you crying, especially the little girl at 1:40), just about any Disney movie (I was weeping just the other day over the scene in The Incredibles where Syndrome is flying away with Jack Jack . . . that is deeply pathetic), even a Hallmark commercial last night had me tearing up. I think there’s something wrong with me.

What celebrity do people say you look most like?

Back when my hair was longer and when she wasn’t as skeletally thin as she is now, I’d occasionally get Anne Hathaway. I think there was a lot of wishful thinking involved, but flattering nonetheless. I’ll take it.

But I’ve always wondered if people were referring more to the pre-makeover Princess Diaries version:

What is your greatest accomplishment?

Probably growing a human. That’s pretty amazing!

Morning person? Or night owl?

Definitely neither. Can I be a mid-morning through mid-afternoon person? I have a hard time waking up in the morning (there’s usually a lot of moaning and whining and hiding under blankets involved), and I’m almost always in bed by 10:00. I was the one at sleepovers who would say at 9:45, “Guys? How about we stop talking now and go to bed? Okay?”

Worst or most disastrous project ever?

Oh, so many options! Most of my attempts at knitting have been rather disastrous, as well as any and all early sewing projects. Jeff and I once tried to paint a dresser that for some reason never dried completely, but we never knew how to fix it, so we spent the next 3 years prying objects that had gotten stuck to the perpetually-tacky paint off the top. I recently tried to sew a vest for Forrest that came out rather comical. These shoes were pretty bad, too:

I have ruined a lot of things in my crafting time.

Household chore you hate the most?

I absolutely, 100%, truly and deeply despise any sort of work involving floors. I hate vacuuming, I loathe sweeping, I detest mopping. I don’t really mind doing dishes, I kind of enjoy laundry, and even scrubbing toilets isn’t that bad . . . but I hate taking care of floors. Our neighbor has a really friendly golden retriever that I often invite into our place just to lick up the food crumbs from my kitchen floor. I kind of want to get a dog just so it can be my personal vacuum.

(That’s Forrest “playing” with the endlessly patient golden retriever last summer. She is absolutely the sweetest animal I’ve ever known—I would expect even the most nicely-tempered dog to snap at a baby who constantly crawls on top of her and sticks his hands into her mouth, but she always just sits there and wags her tail. Forrest used to be in love with her, but he finally noticed one day that she is way bigger than him, and he’s kind of scared of her now. She hasn’t noticed yet because she still tries to play with him and he freaks out and screams and hits her until she wanders away, looking dejected and confused. Poor girl lost a friend!)

What is your secret talent?

I think I’ve mentioned this before, but I am a crazy-fast typer. I once applied for a job that required official typing test results (a job I did not get, by the way—go me!), and the lady at the testing center was so impressed with my score that she asked if she could photocopy my result page to show to all the other employees because they’d never seen a typing speed that high before. I was absurdly proud of myself. Until I didn’t get the job. I think the fastest score I’ve gotten was something like 130 words per minute.

I’m also a really good speller. Admitting this will make any future blog spelling errors doubly embarrassing. When I was in fifth grade, I won my school spelling bee and went to regionals, where I was eliminated on the word “dappled,” which I misheard and spelled “dapple.” Curses! To this day, that 5th grade school spelling bee is the only time in my life that I ever won a trophy. I’ll spell that out for you . . . N-E-R-D. Nerd.

If a movie was made of your life, what actress would you want to play you?

I have a bit of a crush on Ginnifer Goodwin at the moment. I love her style, I think she’s just gorgeous in a rather unconventional way, and she seems like she’d be so bubbly and fun in real life. So, you know, the opposite of me. But future generations watching my movie don’t need to know that.

So either her or, for authenticity’s sake, pre-transformation Anne.

Who was your first crush on?

This should be fun. I’ll stick with celebrity crushes, since they are the most tragically unrequited. Zach from Saved by the Bell. Lance Bass from N’Sync. Jonathan Taylor Thomas in his Home Improvement days. Nathan Fillion from Firefly (that one might . . . ahem . . . might still be happening . . . ).

What are three things you cannot live without?

I really struggle without a good book to read. And I’m an absolute monster if I don’t get enough sleep (seriously . . . you did not want to know me with a newborn in the house). And I don’t do well without regular “me” time.

Name one thing you wish you did better.

If we’re being serious, I wish I had more patience with Forrest and Jeff. I tend to be rather easily annoyed and selfish and short-tempered.

But what are these blog tag thingies for if not frivolous responses? I wish I were better at photography, baking pretty desserts, knitting, and interior decorating. 4 things.

------------------------------------

Okay, now I’m supposed to tag more people and provide more questions. Meh, I’m not going to tag anyone. If you want to answer these questions, either on your blog or in a comment, consider yourself tagged! My questions are . . .

1. Since I admitted my celebrity crushes, past and present . . . go ahead and name one (or two, or three) of yours. Male or female. Heaven knows I have plenty of each.

2. What’s your favorite book?

3. What are your 5 favorite TV shows?

4. Guilty pleasure?

5. Any goals you’re currently working on?

6. A trend or style you’ve wanted to try, but been scared to?

7. A skill you’d love to learn?

8. If you had a day to yourself with unlimited money to spend and no obligations, what would you do?

9. A person (living or dead) you’d love to meet?

10. If you weren’t doing the career you’re doing now (being a stay-at-home mom counts as a career), what would you want to be doing instead?

11. What are the names you want/wanted to give your kids until your meanie-pants spouse vetoed them?

30 Minute Baby Lounge Pants (from an old t-shirt)

2012-02-27T10:47:00.002-06:00

I’ve re-fallen in love with sewing lately. It was hard, for a while, to get excited to sew when that meant lugging out a clunky sewing machine that was so tired and sick and senile it could hardly get through 2 or 3 inches of stitches before getting stuck or tangled or just slipping quietly into a coma. But the new machine I got for Christmas was sent straight from heaven, and I’ve been having such a great time starting projects I’ve put off for months and rediscovering a favorite hobby that had almost been ruined by an uncooperative machine.

One quickie project I’d wanted to try for months (but wasn’t willing to sacrifice to the old demonic sewing machine) was refashioning an old long-sleeved thermal top into baby pajama pants. My sister (who graciously gives me all her old thrift-store-bound clothes so I don’t have to go buy them back from the thrift store) gave me this old shirt, thinking maybe I could use it for a project. It looked to me like it would make the perfect pair of comfy-cozy baby lounge pants. And 30 minutes later, it was a pair of comfy-cozy baby lounge pants!

If you’ve seen many of my sewing projects, you know that my favorites are the super-fast, super-simple, low-fuss ones. Sure, it’s fun now and then to sew something a little more fancy and intricate, but my very favorite things to sew are almost always the simple, quick projects that don’t require much time or skill. I sure love instant gratification. Part of the reason I put this project off for so many months is because I kept trying to make it more complicated than it needed to be—first I thought I’d use the sleeves as legs, then use the body of the shirt to make a matching pajama top . . . and after months of setting it aside, I finally said to myself, “Self, cut it out. Just make it a simple project and be done with it.” I can be so wise sometimes.

Here’s what you’ll need to make a pair of cute and quick baby lounge pants:

- an old t-shirt or thermal top

- a pair of pants that fits your kid to use as a pattern piece

- elastic

- sewing machine, matching thread, etc.

1. Start by turning the top inside out and laying the pants on it, lining up the bottom of the legs with the shirt’s bottom hem (make sure the front and back layers of the shirt are even and flat). These Spongebob pants were getting a little short on Forrest, so I left a little space between the pant legs and the shirt hem to make a longer pair. (I took this picture before I realized the shirt should be inside out, so ignore that—make sure the top is turned inside out!)

2. Cut around the shape of the pants, through both layers of the shirt, about 1/2” away from the pants along the legs. Cut further away from the waistband on top (about 1 to 2”) to leave room to make a casing for an elastic waistband. Don’t cut the bottom hem of the shirt off—by leaving it intact, it works as the leg hem so you won’t have to do that part yourself. Yay! (If you want wider, yoga-style pant legs, just cut further away from the pants. I was going for tight-fitting, legging-style pajama pants, so I cut the fabric pretty close to the pants.)

3. Pin the two shirt layers together along the outer and inner legs. Don’t pin along the waistband or the foot opening at the bottom.

4. Sew the layers together along the outer leg and inner legs, using a 1/2” seam allowance. Don’t sew along the waistband or the bottom of the legs.

5. Now we’ll make a casing for an elastic waistband. Fold the waist of the pants down about 1/2”, like so, and press: (the pants should still be inside-out, so you’re folding toward the wrong side of the fabric, or what will be the inside of the pants)

. . . then fold it over again so it’s a tad bigger than the width of your elastic:

And pin it in place.

6. Sew along the bottom edge of the fold:

. . . and stop sewing before you get back to where you started, so you’ll have an opening of about 2 inches that you can use to insert your elastic:

7. Cut a piece of elastic so it’s about an inch smaller than your child’s waist size, and insert it through the waistband opening:

And sew the two ends of the elastic together:

8. Now just sew down that last inch or two of waistband that you left open, and you’re finished!

You’ve got yourself a really fast, really simple pair of cute baby lounge pants.

You can’t put a man in lounge pants and expect him not to lounge. Forrest watched The Cat in the Hat in total comfort, thank you very much.

We take our relaxing seriously around here. Brother was completely uninterested in this photo business.

But I think he looks awfully cute and snuggly in his little lounge pants.

Crochet Sweater Love

2012-02-25T10:35:00.001-06:00

Isn’t it appropriate that I only start feeling the urge to crochet a sweater at the tail end of winter, when it’s bright and sunny outside with mild 5o-degree weather? My inner granny is obviously a little bit senile and disorganized. (She’s the one who loves to crochet so much, and felt absurdly excited just now to receive an email from the library saying the book I put on hold this week is ready for me to pick up—I blame my many old lady tendencies [like my legally blind vision, intense dislike for rowdy youths, and early bedtime] on her, the poor thing. Let’s call her Matilda.)

One downfall I’ve found with crochet, despite its many wonderful qualities, is sweater inferiority. Knitting definitely wins on that front—despite my love for crochet, I’ll admit that knit sweaters, in general, tend to have a superior look to crochet sweaters. But I’ve found quite a few gorgeous crochet sweater patterns recently that certainly give knit ones a run for their money. Take a look . . . here are some ladies’ sweaters that I think are lovely:

1: Eva Shrug, $7.99 2: Ladies’ Shrug from Mon Petit Violon, $3.99 3: Aqua Aloha Top, free pattern 4: Diamond Eyelet Wrap from Rachel’s Crochet, $5.95

Aren’t those all just so pretty? I especially love the Eva Shrug (photo #1)—it is downright beautiful and would transition so nicely into spring. And baby crochet sweaters are particularly darling . . . I just love all of these sweater patterns for munchkins:

1: Varsity Sweater, free pattern 2: Candy Pink Cardigan, $3.99 3: Shortie Sweater from Holland Designs, $4.99 4: Fisherman Sweater, $4.99

I actually printed out the Varsity Sweater pattern (#1) before Christmas to make for Forrest but ran out of time . . . isn’t it adorable? I’d still like to make him one, although the Fisherman Sweater is so adorably miniature-grandpa-ish, I can hardly resist it. I can 100% envision my grandpa wearing that one, and I’m very tempted to start it for Forrest, too. My child needs multiple handmade winter sweaters to wear into spring, right? And the little girls’ sweaters . . . I’m literally squeeing over them. They are just so sweet . . . it’s official, I’m going to need a daughter next time around.

Have you ever crocheted a sweater? Any favorite patterns you’d recommend? Am I too late in the season to make one (or 5) for Forrest?

This week . . .

2012-02-23T11:01:00.003-06:00

If I wasn’t already completely in love with Forrest’s babysitter (possibly the most adorable teenager I’ve ever known), she won over whatever little part of me was holding back when we came home after a date to discover that she had tucked the little guy into bed like this:
In case you don’t recognize it, he’s cuddled up under the blanket I crocheted for him. It would bother me if he just didn’t care for this blanket—I am severely wounded by his burning hatred for it. An arrow through my heart, I tell you. Simply not loving it is not enough . . . the child throws a fit every time it’s presented to him, and angrily tosses it off if I try to put it over his lap while he’s watching TV or reading a book. But his deep love for his babysitter (which, in all honesty, makes me feel a little insecure . . . he’s way more excited to see her than he ever is about me) is enough to cross the great divide, and he didn’t utter a peep when she unwittingly tucked him into bed with The Blanket of Doom. Never mind that it was on the floor outside his crib when we got him up the next morning. I’m sure that was an accident.

This is a pair of “cowboy shoes” Jeff brought back from Argentina almost 7 years ago—I laughed long and hard at the poor fellow for wearing these shoes that he spent 3 pesos (about $1) on. I told him they were the stupidest-looking shoes I’d ever seen (I believe I may have called them “grandpa shoes”), and he insisted that everyone wore them down there, they were so comfortable, blah blah blah. But they look kind of familiar, don’t they? I think TOMS is enjoying the last laugh now as we all jump at the chance to spend $40 for a pair of their $1 Argentine cowboy shoes. They’ve even won me over—the very style I once made fun of Jeff for wearing is starting to look pretty darn cute to me.
I’m slowly but surely (emphasis on slowly) building up a stock of crochet accessories for my booth at the upcoming Queen Bee Market this April—a handmade marketplace running alongside Snap Conference at Thanksgiving Point here in Utah. I can’t decide if I’m more excited about it (an entire market of handmade goodies! my own booth full of my own items! a chance to meet some of the fun and creative ladies whose blogs and shops I admire!) or scared silly (what if my booth is the one ugly sore thumb that looks like it was decorated by someone’s blind and senile great-grandma? what if no one buys any of my crap? what if I can’t make enough to fill my booth and it looks empty and ridiculous? what if I finally meet all these bloggers I’ve emailed and chatted with and they totally hate my stinking guts?). Deep breaths. Iiiiiiin. Ooouuuuuut.
My sister and I were googling “baby depression” the other day because Forrest was being so lethargic and grouchy . . . can a toddler be depressed? Google says yes, but his Exorcist-esque rocketing of cottage cheese-y vomit all over the car an hour later led us to reevaluate our diagnosis. After two days of lying on the couch downing a steady stream of apple juice and watching non-stop Monsters Inc., he seems to be feeling all better now. But don’t those sad sicky eyes just break your heart?
I’ve spent weeks searching for the perfect homemade wheat bread recipe—mine always comes out crumbly and dry, but I’ve finally struck gold thanks to Janssen and her delicious recipe. It’s soft enough for sandwiches and spreads, easy to slice without dissolving into a pile of crumbs on the counter, and so tasty. Thank you, Janssen!

I just finished reading The Diving Bell and the Butterfly this morning and . . . wow. Just wow. The true memoir of Jean-Dominique Bauby, it tells of his life with “locked-in syndrome” after a devastating stroke at the age of 44. He woke after a 20-day coma to find himself with a fully-functional mind in a paralyzed body—his only way to communicate was through blinking one eye. I often find this sort of book—the story of someone overcoming their hardships, triumphing against all odds—to be gimmicky and tired. I’ve heard it before, and I don’t want to read yet another tear-jerker inspirational tale . . . but this book was different. It was so powerful and real and simultaneously simple and awe-inspiring, minus all the schmultz that plagues so many “triumphant” stories. Give it a go. I’m glad I did.

Turning Bootcut Jeans into Skinny Jeans

2012-02-21T11:37:00.001-06:00

I’ve come to a sad realization lately: my closet kind of sucks. I played along last month with Freckles in April’s winter fashion challenge—each day, Kayla gave a theme or an idea to inspire us to put together an outfit. The goal was to help us look at our closets in a new way, try new clothing combinations we hadn’t tried before, get out of a style rut and go for something different. While most participants commented throughout the challenge about how inspired they were and how much they were loving all the new possibilities they found in their closets, I’ve gotta tell you that an unfortunate lesson I learned was how little usable clothing I have. It was definitely helpful and fun to have a push to put more effort into my appearance and experiment with style, but I hadn’t realized that I own almost nothing with color or pattern or personality, not to mention that hardly anything I own really fits or flatters me. Quite sad.

The first big problem with my closet that I decided to address was a lack of pants that fit well. I hadn’t fully realized until I was taking a daily outfit photo that all of my pants look like clown pants. What I really wanted was just one pair of great-fitting skinny jeans. I remembered a pair of jeans I’ve had for a few years—I used to work at Maurices, where I once scored a pair of Silver jeans (which sell for something like $75-100+) for less than $10. Only problem: even though the fit was great, they had really big, goofy flare legs. Bootcut jeans are one thing, but these were in a league of their own. It’s going to take a lot of convincing to make me feel okay about wearing bellbottoms, so even though I’ve owned these jeans for at least 3 or 4 years and really love the way they fit, I’ve only worn them a few times.

I’ve seen tutorials here and there to turn bootcut or flared jeans into skinnies, so I decided to give it a try with my underworn Silvers. I read a lot of tutorials and instructions on how to make the switch before I got started, and they were all so different and left me a little confused about what to do—some of the tips and instructions listed in certain tutorials were specifically mentioned as “don’ts” in others; some were incredibly involved and laborious while others seemed deceptively simple. It was pretty confusing . . . I didn’t want to potentially ruin the only nice-fitting pair of jeans I own, so I thought it might be helpful for others who have thought about McGuyvering their jeans to hear what I did and how it turned out. None of these ideas/instructions are my own . . . I pieced them together from a few different tutorials I found online (the ones I found the most helpful were these instructions from Mmmcrafts, this one from Borderline, and this post on hemming jeans from Sew Much Ado). I read many more sets of instructions than those, but those are the tutorials that I found the most useful and practical.

(The finished product!)

I started by putting the jeans on inside out and pinning the fabric along the outer seam, starting about mid-thigh and working down toward the ankle. This was a point of confusion for me—some tutorials said to only alter the inner seam, where your changes would be less noticeable; some said to only alter the seam that isn’t topstitched (usually the outer seam); and some said to alter the fit equally along both inner and outer seams. I decided that altering the outer seam made the most sense to me . . . I knew I couldn’t replicate the look of the heavy topstitching on the inner seam, so I didn’t dare touch it.

Anyway, I just worked my way down the leg, holding the outer seam as flat as possible and pinning where I wanted the new seam to go. I took the jeans off and used a pen and ruler to mark a straight, gradual line along the pins that I could follow, and started sewing (make sure to use a heavy-duty needle!). I started at the bottom of the leg and worked my way up. I think the most important point to take away from the many tutorials out there is to make sure your stitch line is smooth and gradual, and to blend it as smoothly and seamlessly as possible into the original stitch line when you reach the point along the thigh where you began pinning.

This is what my pants looked like with one leg skinnified. (And yes, I’m standing on a bucket in my bathroom. This is why you don’t keep your tripod in your baby’s bedroom . . . he’ll inevitably be napping when it’s project picture time. It’s also a good lesson on the importance of buying a full-length mirror next time I’m out.) You can see, about mid-thigh, where I didn’t do a very good job of blending the new seam line into the old seam line—there’s some awkward puckering and bulging along the outer seam a few inches above my knee. I went back and sewed it again, making a longer, more gradual stitch line that blended less noticeably into the original seam, and it looks much more natural now.

Here’s what the stitch line looked like from the inside. One point I was confused about when I began was the “bowleg” issue. Many tutorials recommended using a pair of skinny jeans as a tailoring guide, and lining up the inner seam of the skinnies with the inner seam of the bootcuts, then marking along the outside of the skinnies to get our new seam line. My confusion was that this causes a sort of curved leg—unless you’re taking material off both sides of the jeans, matching up the inner seams will leave you with a skinny leg that curves inward as it follows the inner seam of the flare (as you can see in my picture ab0ve). Maybe a professional seamstress would notice the difference, but in my case, I can’t tell (nor do I care) that the legs are curved at the bottom. Once you’re wearing the jeans, they’re straightened out over your legs, so it hardly matters and no one will ever notice. Sew on!

Try the jeans on after sewing before you cut off the extra fabric to make sure you like the fit and can easily get your foot in and out. If something doesn’t look or fit right, adjust. If you like it, cut off the extra material and zig-zag stitch over the raw edges. Instead of fitting and pinning for the second leg, I just folded the first leg over the second one and used it as a guide.

I had never realized before just how long these jeans are! I used Sew Much Ado’s hemming tutorial (which uses the original hem for a more natural look) to take them up so they hit just below the ankles—a good length for flats and heels.

(Since I get a comment asking where these shoes are from every time they sneak into a picture . . . I got them a few months ago at KMart, of all places. They were on clearance, so they might not still be there now, but it’s worth a shot!)

You can see the new, altered seam pretty well in that last picture above—the old seam at the top of the leg looks more “original,” and my new seam line comes in just above the knee.

Overall, here are my thoughts on skinnifying bootcut jeans:

- I’ll never hem jeans any other way—Sew Much Ado’s method is fast, straightforward, and leaves the hemline looking very natural and unaltered. Definitely give it a shot if you have some jeans that need to be hemmed!

- Although I can tell that these jeans look altered now, I’m very happy with how they came out, especially considering how little time and effort I spent on them. At some point, alterations don’t feel worth the work to me . . . if I’m going to be spending very much time, I’d rather just go buy something new that won’t need any work done. But this project was pretty quick and simple—just pinning and sewing with a few little modifications afterwards to adjust any odd spots—and I’m not at all bothered by the look of the new, altered seam. I was worried that they’d come out looking too “homemade” and I’d be embarrassed to wear them, but I’m definitely happy with how they turned out . . . I’m not sure anyone would ever notice that they don’t still have the original seam on the outer leg.

- I would definitely do this project again. It turned a pair of jeans that had been neglected and ignored for the past few years into my new favorite pair. They fit like a glove and I’ve worn them almost every day since I altered them. That’s a success in my book.

From One Great Forrest to Another: How Our Baby Got His Name

2012-02-18T11:25:00.001-06:00

When I was little, I had the idea that naming a child after someone magically imbued him or her with the personality and qualities of their namesake. I remember deciding once during a playdate that if I ever had a daughter, I would name her after a certain friend of my brother’s, a little girl I adored and thought was nearly perfect. If my daughter shared her name, surely she would turn out to be just as pretty and funny and smart and kind as that friend—simply carrying the same name, I thought, must mean that they also share identical qualities and characteristics.

I eventually outgrew the magical notion that the name itself carries a person’s character or encapsulates their essence, but I still believe there’s something to be said for passing on a meaningful name, for choosing a name for a child that represents who and what you hope they might become, for teaching them about the character and values of the person they’ve been named after, a person you hope they’ll look up to and admire. Every now and then, we’ll get comments on our son Forrest’s name—young couples will compliment us on choosing “such a unique name,” middle-aged men will (maddeningly) ask if he’s named after Forrest Gump and drawl about boxes of chocolates, and older ladies seem gratified that we went with something classic and traditional. To be honest, none of those thoughts were much of a consideration in selecting our Forrest’s name—we weren’t trying to be cute or different, we certainly weren’t naming him after a character, and although I do love its strong, classic sound, we weren’t trying to hearken back to a simpler time in picking an old-fashioned name, either. Our Forrest is named for his great-grandfather, Forrest Allred.

I’m sorry to admit that I didn’t know my grandpa Forrest as well as I wish I did. He passed away when I was in middle school, and we always lived states apart. Visits were infrequent and short, but they were enough to make an enormous impact on my young heart and mind. I remember his excitement to see his grandkids, the way he’d sing and dance around the room with each of us one by one, and laughing as he told the same silly jokes during every visit (“I’ll see you in the spring if I make it through the mattress!”). I remember how he talked to each of us, the individual time he’d spend with every child in the family, his efforts to make everyone feel special and loved. I remember thinking as a little girl that I must secretly be his favorite grandchild—surely he didn’t talk to each of his 53 grandchildren the way he talked to me, or mail little notes and poems to all of my cousins, or tell each one how smart and special and pretty they were. I wouldn’t be surprised now if I learned that each of his grandkids thought they were his secret favorite, too—he had a gift for making everyone feel important and deeply valuable.

It was only years after his death that I learned more about him and the person he was beyond the silly jokes and old tunes and twirling with grandkids around the living room. Although I only knew him as my affectionate, funny, cheerful grandpa, I learned that he had spent much of his life struggling with bipolar disorder, battling clinical depression while trying to provide for the wife and nine children who so needed his presence and support. I learned that when his first deep depression hit when he was just a young boy in elementary school, he was so crippled that he couldn’t complete the school year. I learned that he spent his childhood struggling to catch up with his classmates in school, working his way through college, and eventually providing for his family while fighting off his illness. I learned that the man I had always thought of as just my funny, smiling grandpa had undergone years of therapy, drug treatments, and often ineffective medical care to keep his disorder at bay and allow him to be himself and live his life without the weight of mental illness.

Despite (or perhaps because of) these struggles he faced and the daily fight against bipolar disorder, he was one of the most exemplary people I’ve ever known. He had a firm faith in God, a testimony of the gospel, and a deep love for the Savior. He believed in a Heavenly Father who loved him and would help him through his trials, both the mundane obstacles of normal, daily life and the debilitating pain of his depression. He found meaning in his illness as a way to draw closer to and rely completely on the God who had created him and given him that specific trial to bear. He had bipolar disorder, but he had a full, rich, happy life . . . a vibrant faith, a career as a teacher that allowed him to inspire and educate others, a loving family, a passion for knowledge, good books, writing, and music. Although I didn’t have the chance to get to know him well before he died, I’ve always felt a certain bond with my grandpa Forrest. Beyond a connection through the hobbies we share—a love for reading and writing, singing and music, theater and the arts--I’ve felt inspired by his unwavering faith, his devotion to his family and his beliefs, and his strength and courage in facing and overcoming his struggles. I’ve loved hearing stories from my mom and her siblings about growing up with him—from the hilarious absentminded antics he’d pull (like accidentally boarding the wrong plane and only realizing his mistake when he’d landed in the wrong state) to the simple fun they had together (putting on family plays and concerts), and the lessons and values he taught them about treating others with understanding and compassion. I admire his accomplishments in life (though they may be humble by worldly standards, they are huge to those who love him), his determination to conquer the daunting struggles in his life, his genuine love and concern for others, and the purpose and meaning he searched for and found in his unique personal trials.

So when Jeff and I learned two years ago that a little boy would be joining our family—the very moment the ultrasound tech said the words and we knew our sweet little peanut was a he—we said, “That’s our Forrest.” Early in the pregnancy, we had briefly entertained a few other options and tried out a few different names to see how they felt, but we always came back to Forrest. We wanted our son to have an example of perseverance, spirituality, strength, love, and kindness, and we hope that sharing a name with his great-grandpa who possessed so many wonderful qualities will be an inspiration to him. Yes, his name is rather unique. He might not run into many other Forrests in his life, and I suppose he could end up on the receiving end of a few Forrest Gump jokes. But he’ll always have a reminder--whatever he does and wherever he goes--of the strong, loving, wise, faithful man who left an undeniable impression on those who knew and loved him. I think my grandpa Forrest would be very happy about that.

Organizing with Clipix

2012-02-16T13:01:00.001-06:00

I have a personal policy for my blog, and it goes something like this: I try to only write things I would also want to read. This means a minimum of posts about, say, zit developments on my face, but plenty of posts with fun projects or cute babies or nifty ideas or real-life favorite items. This little policy of mine is particularly handy when it comes to paid, sponsored blog posts . . . it's awfully easy to say no to offers to post about something like prescription programs or gardening tools, because I would have very little interest in reading that post. So when I do write the occasional compensated post, I feel okay about it because I only say yes to the ones that I think I'd like to read about, and would have wanted to tell you about even if I weren't being paid to do so. So I hope you'll forgive me for writing sponsored posts every now and then, but I promise, I only write about stuff I honestly use and enjoy and think you'll use and enjoy, too.

Whew. With that little disclaimer behind me, I was pretty interested to learn about clipix, and I am enjoying myself far too much on this site. It's a new, free organizational website where you can create boards to clip and save favorite images and items on the web. Maybe it sounds similar to another site you've probably heard of, which I am expressly forbidden to use as a comparison in this post? It is similar . . . but here's the honest-to-goodness truth . . . after a day or two of using both, I actually, really, truly prefer Clipix. Didn't see that one coming, didja? (Neither did I!)

Here are my reasons.

1) Private or public clipboards. Whatever it is you feel like clipping, it's nice to know that you have the option of keeping some clips to yourself, whether they're gift ideas for friends that you want to be a surprise, a baby clipboard for a pregnancy you haven't announced yet, self-improvement articles you want to keep personal . . . whatever. A little privacy is definitely a good thing in my book. You can make all or some of your clipboards public if you prefer, but having the choice to keep some to yourself is great!

2) Multiboards.This, right here? This is gold. I love saving style and beauty ideas--cute outfits, skin care routines, makeup ideas, hairstyle inspiration--and they used to end up jumbled together into one confusing mega-board. With multiboards, you can link related clipboards together while keeping separate, individual clipboards for each topic, making it about 10,000% easier to find and actually use individual clips . . . in my case, this means one Style + Beauty multiboard with sub-boards devoted to haircuts, makeup tricks, outfits to replicate, clothing on my wishlist, etc. I still have individual boards for each theme, so the clips are easy to search for and utilize in real life, but they're joined together to make one happy, well-organized multiboard family. Very, very nice. (This would also be perfect for recipe organization--have one Food Multiboard with sub-boards for main dishes, side dishes, desserts, etc. So simple, right?)

3) Syncboards. Get together with some friends or family and contribute together to group clipboards that get updated in real time. This would be so handy for party-planning, group activities, clubs, and classes.

Here's a peek at one of my clipboards--a style inspiration clipboard of outfits using clothing I actually own, part of a bigger Style and Beauty Multiboard:

I've really been enjoying using Clipix--I think you'll like it a lot, too . . . it's definitely worth a visit to sign up and take for a test run! (And although I don't have an iPhone, there's an app for it so you can use it on the go.)

What would you use Clipix for?

(Check out this video if you want to learn more!)

Promoted Post

3 Step, $3 Infinity Scarf

2012-02-14T12:07:00.001-06:00

First things first: Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts (and your gratuitous, giggle-inducing compliments) on my blogging identity crisis post. I really felt a little confused about why I’m blogging in the first place and what (if anything) I should be focusing on, and you guys gave me a great reminder of what I’m doing here: sharing my passions, my thoughts, my hobbies, and my everyday, real, unglamourized (not a real word) life so we can connect and laugh and be inspired and improve ourselves together. The consensus of thought in the comments seems to be that while we all enjoy a good crochet/craft post, most of you seem to just enjoy having a good ol’ internet buddy that you can chuckle and commiserate and create with. And I love being that buddy. So I hereby resolve to never again waste time worrying about what I should be writing, or meeting anyone’s expectations, or keeping up with Susie Blogger over there with her daily inspirational words of wisdom and groundbreaking tutorials and 50,000 diehard fans. If I feel like crafting, craft post. If I feel like whining, whiny post. If I feel like showing off pictures of my gorgeous offspring, you bet you’re gonna see some gorgeous offspring. We’re just going to let it all hang out over here, for better or for worse. Here’s to real, honest blogging! (Yaaaaaay!)

Second things second: Newlyweds on a Budget is giving away 3 patterns of your choice from my shop right now . . . head on over and enter to win!

Third things third: Have you noticed the animal print trend happening lately? I follow a few style blogs and have really been loving the dose of animal prints in some recent outfits . . . whether it’s a big, look-at-me splash of leopard like in this adorable outfit from The Pretty Life Anonymous, or just a teensy touch tossed in, like the shoes paired with this look from Merrick’s Art, I’ve been enjoying the spunk and sass and flair that a little animal adds to an outfit. It seems to instantly perk up an outfit and give it more personality, which is always a good thing.

So I’ve had my eye out for cheap, cute animal prints lately and have been a little disappointed at my meager findings. I truly can’t overemphasize what a cheapskate I am—I decided against a $14 leopard print scarf the other day because I thought that was too much to spend for a scarf. I’ll always have meager findings as long as $14 for a scarf feels like a rip-off. A part of me knows that this is not an unreasonable price, but a louder, more obnoxious, penny-pinching part of me b****-slaps that part into silence. But at Joann’s the other day, I spotted a cute, lightweight, gauzy zebra print fabric in the red tag clearance fabrics—score! At $7 a yard, it didn’t seem like a fantastic bargain, but I figured I wouldn’t need much to make an animal print scarf for myself . . . I only bought 15 inches of it (which was plenty of fabric for a double-loop cowl/infinity scarf, and rang up to less than $3). Now, there are plenty of infinity scarf tutorials out there already, and you can google around and find them if you prefer a more in-depth, professional approach and finished project. Here was my issue with the tutorials I found:

1) Many just did not make sense to me. I’ll admit, I can be a bit of a dummy when it comes to following instructions, so maybe my pattern-following issues are just my own problem that needs fixing. But I read through quite a few infinity scarf tutorials and ended up scratching my head, going, “How does this work? Fold what? Sew where? Hand stitch? No sir.” We’re going for simplicity here.

2) They looked too labor-intensive. Honestly, I spent less than $3 on fabric; I’m not going to spend an hour sewing pieces by hand and hiding every seam and finishing every raw edge and perfectly ironing each fold. Sim.plic.it.y. I didn’t turn on the iron, and I was even moaning about having to get out the pins. I considered not swapping out the hot pink thread from my machine. Keepin’ it simple.

So this is my imperfect, one-seam-visible, 3-step infinity scarf tutorial. It seriously took like 15 minutes to make . . . I spent more time editing the pictures than sewing the stupid scarf. If you want a perfect, store-bought, professional-looking piece, I would encourage you to follow someone else’s instructions, because my version does end up with one seam line visible from the outside. I am 100% fine with this, especially since I’m keeping it myself. For 3 steps, $3, and 15 minutes, I will gladly live with a visible line of stitches. Here’s what I did to make my scarf:

Step 1: Fold fabric in half lengthwise (a hot dog fold . . . is that how your teachers taught you in elementary school?), pin along the long edge, and sew. If applicable, make sure you sew the right sides of the fabric together . . . I couldn’t tell if my fabric had a right or wrong side, so I didn’t worry about it.

Step 2: Turn this tube right side out (so the raw edge and seam will now be on the inside of the tube and the right side of the fabric, if you have one, will be on the outside) and fold one end of the tube’s raw edges to the inside. You can iron this fold if you aren’t feeling lazy. You guessed it . . . I was too lazy. $3 project, people. Minimal effort.

Step 3: Making sure your fabric tube is flat and not twisted (unless you want your scarf to have a twist, that might look neat!), bring the other raw open end of the tube up and tuck it inside of the folded end from the previous step. Pin the layers together, making sure you’re catching both folded layers and the inner tucked layers, and sew ‘er shut (this is your one visible stitch line).

Boom. (Would you be surprised if you knew I really say “boom” when I finish quick projects? I think that just bumped me up by about 10 notches on the cool scale.) Infinity scarfed. I think it looks rather fetching looped twice around the neck for a close fit:

But I also feel significantly more stylish than I really am wearing it long and belted over a simple sweater:

Low cost and even lower effort for a chic, stylish animal print scarf. I like it!

Are you there, Blog?

2012-02-12T20:41:00.001-06:00

You know what always cracks me up? When I see a blog post that starts with, “I am SOOOO sorry I haven’t posted in like 4 whole days!!! I’m still alive, I promise, LOL! Don’t worry!!!” As if every reader has been gnawing at their fingernails, constantly refreshing the page to check for updates, wondering if they should send out the search and rescue squad to solve The Mystery of The Missing Blogger. I have rarely, if ever, noticed when the bloggers I stalk have taken a little break, so I’m going to assume that no one noticed (or fretted over) my week-long absence here.

I mostly haven’t had anything interesting to say or show you—the past week was an unusual mix of busy-ness (2 doctor’s appointments consisting of 3 long-overdue vaccinations for a very unhappy Forrest as well as some steroids for me . . . I can’t even describe the nerdy good-girl-turned-rebel glee I feel when I pop my steroid pills in the morning, even if it’s just to treat a wacky rash on my chest), and laziness (I read 3 books this week while languishing on the couch in a drug-induced stupor—what a nice change from watching Gossip Girl on Netflix). I even tried to crack a steroid joke with the pharmacist when picking up my prescription—I overestimated the extent of our friendship (I guess asking his advice on how to treat bronchitis because I didn’t want to pay for a doctor’s appointment a few months back did not forge as deep of a bond on his end as it did on mine), and he did not seem particularly amused by my ‘roid rage humor. I’ll win him over sooner or later, just you wait. I’m coming for you, Mr. Stony-Faced Pharmacist.

But there’s been another whisper of an underlying reason I didn’t post much this week . . . despite the busy-ness and tired-ness and rash-fighting-ness and lack-of-friendship-with-my-pharmacist-ness, I’d think about writing a post and realize something: I’m not really sure what my blog’s deal is anymore.

I mentioned that I often enjoy a little private laugh at bloggers who apologize for infrequent posting, as if they owe it to me, somehow, to be constantly dazzling me with new projects or amazing ideas or stylish outfits or gourmet recipes or hilarious anecdotes. Another blogger phenomenon I’ve giggled over in the past is bloggers posting some sort of poll or survey asking readers what they enjoy about the blog . . . “what kind of posts do you like to see? What keeps you coming back for more? What would you like to see more of here? What posts do you skip?” I used to see posts asking for such feedback and think to myself, “Good gracious, just write what you want. It’s your blog.” But I totally understand that now, and although I’m resisting the urge to make a survey and beg for your thoughts, I read through a few of my older posts recently and realized my blog has been going through a bit of an identity crisis—at first, all I posted was tutorials, sewing projects, my own craft ideas or other ladies’ projects that blew my mind. It was a craft blog and a venue to shamelessly promote my etsy shop (see how I resisted the shameless self-promotion there? no link!). I rarely wrote anything that was personal or not craft-related.

In recent months though, I haven’t come up with any new ideas or tutorials, and the only crafty projects I’ve shown have been things I’ve made using other people’s patterns/tutorials, but didn’t think up on my own. I feel fine about this—honestly, why come up with a new tutorial or idea when there are a zillion amazing patterns and instructions out there already?—but it almost leaves me a little uncertain about where this blog is headed, and where I want it to go. Do I want it to turn into a simple project gallery? Or a lifestyle blog with funny stories about my kid? Do I need to keep posting tutorials and craft ideas to keep readers coming back? Should I even care if readers keep coming back? And then there’s the occasional oddball post like my haircut pictures recently that gets, like, 400% more comments than anything else I ever write and I end up thinking, “Should I even pretend this is a craft blog anymore when the posts that get the most comments are about my hair?”

So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m not positive where this blog is right now or where it’s going, but I think I’m just going to let it wander where it wants to wander. I’ve seen creative bloggers mention feeling pressured or competitive—if they don’t have new ideas, original tutorials, large-and-in-charge content, big events or changes always in the works, they’ll fall behind and seem boring or behind-the-times or unexciting. I have somehow avoided feeling any such pressure to perform, and am kind of enjoying just writing whatever comes to mind, even if it doesn’t necessarily fit what I thought this blog would be when I began. I can hardly call it a craft blog anymore since there’s an undeniable lack of original craft ideas, but I’m not sure what to call it instead. Just my blog, I guess? Maybe it doesn’t need a category. When I think of the blogs I most enjoy reading, I sort of have a hard time categorizing them . . . sure, I appreciate and want to read good content, but the blogs that have remained favorites of mine in the long run instead of just popping up and then being quickly forgotten are the ones whose writing really grabs me. I do care, to a degree, what they’re writing about, but I mostly just love reading what they have to say and how they say it. Maybe that’s where my blog belongs . . . somewhere in the “Is that girl still blabbing?” category.

And, without begging for it, this is me quietly wondering aloud why you read this blog, exactly, and what you enjoy about it? Because I kind of have no idea what any of you are doing here, if I’m being honest. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so glad to have fun readers that seriously feel like real-life friends (no matter how many times Jeff tells me I need to air-quote “friends” when I’m talking about blog friends) . . . but I’m not exactly sure what makes you want to subscribe or come back for more.

And since you’re already here and, quite frankly, are probably bored to tears if you’re still reading this, I’ll reward you with some pictures that will be getting their own posts sometime soon . . . a quick and adorable scarf I spent a whopping 15 minutes and $3 on . . . I’ll share the 3-step how-to in a day or two:

And my sister and I pretending to be much more suave, sexy, and sophisticated than we actually are in a mini photo shoot featuring the darling clothing section at Bungalow Boutique . . . more photos to come later. I’m still sad every morning when I open my closet and it only has my regular old clothes inside instead of these ones:

Over and out.

Little Things

2012-02-05T11:13:00.001-06:00

Some little things that made me happy this week:

1. Watching Forrest draw. This boy is an artistic whirlwind—he loves drawing and spends a good portion of each day wandering around the house, carrying a mini notepad and scribbling on the go. We all have our own creative process . . . his is a very athletic one, requiring the careful combination of his talents for sketching and contortionism:

All photos taken within a span of maybe a minute . . . and he never stopped drawing. Except during the all-important art-through-osmosis stage, in the center shot above. It’s a unique artistic method, but you can’t argue with results like this!

2. Baking up some tasty chocolate chip cookies with the help of one of my favorite Christmas presents.

The last 3 times I’ve made an emergency run to the grocery store to buy just the ingredients for a last-minute dessert, I’ve ended up in the same checkout girl’s line. I’ve never seen her on any of my normal grocery shopping trips; just the times when I’m buying a tub of whipped cream and 6 Snickers and a jar of hot fudge with a manic, sugar-deprived look in my eyes. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before she reports me to Child Protective Services on the assumption that all I feed my baby is king-size candy bars. On my visit the other day to get butter and chocolate chips for these cookies, I also had to buy Forrest a cookie from the bakery to keep him happy during the trip . . . there’s a certain irony in having to buy a cookie for a grumpy baby during a grocery run to buy cookie ingredients.

3. This little reader.

His excitement for drawing is possibly outweighed only by his excitement over books. And not so much the baby books with mirrors and flaps and furry animals to pet . . . he spent an entire afternoon reading A Beautiful Mind.

4. Noticing that he’s wearing the same outfit in quite a few pictures from this week. Pictures that were taken on different days. Whoops!

5. Receiving this illustrated diagram of my sister’s many suitors.

(Names censored in case any of them . . . read my craft blog . . . I’m realizing now how ridiculous that sounds.)

I complained that I couldn’t keep track of the hordes of men who are constantly taking her to dinner and inviting her hot-tubbing and sending frantic “are you ignoring me?!?!” texts when they inevitably get lost in the masses. This chart—complete with each beau’s vital stats, attractiveness rating on a 1-10 scale, personality characteristics, and an “honorable mentions” section--will be extremely helpful, I’m sure.

6. The aforementioned sister keeping me company while Jeff spent the weekend in California on a business trip. And still wanting to maintain contact with me after taking a series of pictures like this, and seeing them posted on the internet:

Left to right: Victoria’s Secret supermodel faces (she wins), Forrest’s picture faces (both extremely accurate), and how most of the day really went down . . . me: stressed; Forrest: crying; Bekah: unperturbed.

7. The complete lack of pride and/or dignity that makes the posting of such pictures possible. You’re welcome.