2nd First day of School

Bella's actual first day of school felt a bit like a dry run since all of the kids weren't there and I was taking her and picking her up. Yesterday was a legitimate first day, with all 25 of the kids, complete with riding the bus. Thus, her 2nd First Day of School outfit:

This is one of my favorite skirts that I've made so far- pattern here. It seems I made it a bit too big, but at least it'll last. I embellished this plain white tee by cutting up some old jersey baby jammies and making it into a corsage tee. Add another floral pin and a button hair clip, and voila!

Bella was quite attached to the heart I made her and insisted that every t-shirt feature a breast pocket to hold it. This not being the case, I whipped her up a little purse made from a pair of thrifted purple corduroys so it could always be near.

(Please ignore all the hot glue spots...)

She's getting used to this routine.

She's loving it.

She loves the bus, and has always had cute girls to sit with. Today when she got off, she hit the ground running and literally ran all the way home. When I asked her how her day was she yelled 'Great!' as she ran away.

Today's outfit. This skirt is my number two favorite so far, pattern here. When I finish them all I am going to do a big roundup with photos of all the skirts, links to all the tutorials, and the embellished tees and accessories as well. Can't wait!

First Day of School- Ever.

Today was the day. Bella's first day of school that set her on an educational road to last for at least the next 13 years. Top on my list of concerns: her ensemble. I was up until 2 am getting everything set for her first day. I know.

(Shoes, t-shirt, skirt, brooch, and bobby pins.)

I made this rosette brooch from broadcloth, felt and vintage buttons. I put it all on a pin to wear as a brooch on her shirts, but it doubles as a hair ornament. I was so psyched that she liked it. I told her I was going to make her a bunch in different colors to wear with her different outfits and she asked if she could wear them on her shirts everyday. Sweet.

I freezer paper-stenciled her shirt with a 'b' in Cezanne font but I was disappointed with it. It wasn't dark enough on the navy shirt, so at 10:30 at night I decided to outline it with embroidery, thinking that if I wasn't happy I could fill it in with satin stitch another time. The cutest fabric for a first day of school skirt, and the most beautiful red leather shoes my mom got her in Paris. They are the softest, most supple calfskin- like shoes in the world. I am already mourning that she will outgrow them soon. They will go with so many of her skirts this year, until then.

(I snapped this right after I reminded Bella to look at the circle.)

Drop off time, today only. She'll be a bus rider from now on.

It went better than I anticipated. I was worried about Bella, who frequently throws a fit about going to Primary after Sacrament meeting. She will wail and cry and cling to me as I struggle to physically extricate her from me while she begs me to teach her class. So possibly you can see why I would be nervous about leaving her in a room full of strangers for an 8 hour day. She did so well. She looked a little bit nervous, but I stayed with her for about 15 or 20 minutes, casually gave her a kiss and a hug, and left her. I watched from the door, reluctant to leave. She seemed good. Engaged, curious.

Pick up time. We went to Baskin Robbins afterwards to celebrate and as we drove back home into the neighborhood we were behind her bus which would have been dropping her off at 3:45!!! Sheesh.

I have two trains of thought going about this whole process.

1. I know I am a mother crow, but I think you would be hard pressed to find a cuter Kindergartner ever. This outfit? Seriously? That little body with those long lean legs thanks to her daddy? Her dimples? A collection of materials including fabric, felt, ribbon and vintage buttons? How could you go wrong?

2. The emotional tumult involved. I was up until 1 am, completing the embroidery on her shirt and making her lunch. As I was saying my prayers I started worrying about her. Would she be lonely? Would she miss me? Would she be scared? What would she do when she felt so alone and lost and without a familiar face? I had to make her something to take with her. Something to remind her of home and love and safety and security. I finished my prayer and jumped up to go back out into the darkened house to begin a new and necessary project at 1 am. I knew just what it would be. I made her a small heart out of pink felt, about 1 1/2- 2" tall. I stitched her name on it, stitched it together and stuffed it. When I left her in her classroom this morning I showed it to her. I told her that it was the perfect size to hold in her hand, or keep in her shirt pocket. Anytime she felt lonely or scared or worried, she could hold it in her hand, give it a little squeeze and remember that mama loved her and missed her. When I picked her up from school she was holding it, looking a little worse for the wear, rubbed soft. I'd like to think that it comforted her to have it, but it comforted me to make it. It's as if by outfitting and adorning her with my creations I could send her armed and prepared to meet the world. Padded by the product of long hours spent in love and preparation and carefully chosen materials she would not be alone. I would go with her.

I think she had a great day. I think she loved it. I think this is going to work out...with a few more sleepless nights until I complete the rest of her wardrobe of skirts, shirts, brooches and hair clips.

I have many more pontifications on this new phase of life for us all, but I'm ready to put this day to rest and save pensive for tomorrow.

I have a disorder

...But I'm not sure what it should be called.

I do this a lot. I am all in, or I am all out. Another one of my mantras lately, at least that I am trying to adopt, is 'Small and Consistent', as in my efforts. So, in complete and abject opposition to that, I am burying myself in a project. I've always been intimidated by sewing, in general, but clothing specifically. 

So a few days ago I decided I would sew Bella a skirt. 

Actually an entire wardrobe of nothing but skirts. 

Before school starts. 

Next week. 

And then I would embellish and accessorize an entire wardrobe of t-shirts with various methods, and coordinating hair clips, pins, and brooches. 

She starts kindergarten next Thursday. 

That's a week from tomorrow.

I have 12 skirts planned.

I cut all my fabric, using 7 different patterns, or tutorials so far. Also, did I mention I have never made an article of clothing in my life? Except this one. I finished this a couple of days ago, so there's 1 down and 10 to go. There are a couple of egregious errors, but ones that I can learn from and not repeat. Hopefully. I'll keep you posted.

Check out the tutorial I used!

It's a daily occurance.

She seems especially fond of layering her skirts over pants, usually these big purple sweatpants.


We're not going anywhere today.

Beat that, Eva!

Just kidding. But Bella's self-adornment makes Eva's look like pure style. I could barely tell that Eva dressed herself in that photo, but maybe I'm just used to our more colorful (and layered) displays.

She's not a complete freak however- the bike helmet was worn for actual bike riding and not general injury prevention al a Mike Myers on the playground in his SNL days.

Oops! I Did it Again...

{appropriately, the winners are: jinii, shell, charlotte, and denise. Congratulations, and watch your mailbox. jinii and charlotte, I need your address. Email me!}

Oops! I Did it Again...I've gained back all the weight I have managed to lose, and then some. How many times is this going to happen?! Yikes- I hate to recount where this one lines up on the list. Unfortunately weight is an emotionally charged issue with me, for many reasons. It is one of the fastest ways to discern my present mental state, based on how much weight I have lost, or more likely, gained. In the past, I have proved myself capable of losing weight and getting relatively in shape. One of the cruel ironies of my life is that I am rarely satisfied with my present state, yet invariably several months later I long for what used to be, then completely disgusted with what has become my present reality. Thus, I sit from that vantage point right now.
Why is is so easy to do? I'm not doing myself any favors- I am now at the heaviest I've ever been, and at a very inopportune time. I have been in NC for just over 4 months, and I've yet to make any real friends. I suspect my weight is the real reason- not that I am being insensitively judged by my appearance, but that I use it as a shield, and unfortunately also a prison. Generally, I am not shy. I am not afraid to approach people, put myself out there, be myself. Unless that self happens to be, fat. Then I retreat even more into my safe haven- my own little world in my house, in my mind. I honestly wish I could make a sign that would read:
Just to let everyone know that I am aware of the problem and it is not representative of me. Maybe I should add that 'I haven't always looked like this. I can be really hot.' and then tape one of my best thin self-portraits onto it. The fact is, I don't feel good enough to put myself out there. I don't want to introduce myself to people as... 'this.' I feel like I want to wait, hold myself back until I am ready to be 'presentable'. I think I honestly feel like I am not good enough to put myself out there, or maybe I am afraid that others will judge me the same way. Being insecure makes me retreat and hide myself, and I hate doing that. These insecurities also bleed into every other area of my life. It's like I view the ability to be thin/stay thin as nothing short of a virtue;, so when I am without that I am inherently 'bad.' Who would want to be friends with, or love a 'bad' person? The other irony is that I don't judge others this way, just myself. Only I need to be held to this cruel yard stick while my forgiveness and ambivalence descends upon everyone else I meet. Being 'bad' makes me feel inadequate in every area of my life... it settles on everything, blanketing me in a general state of unworthiness and failure. I've been dreading any social engagement that I 'have' to attend with tt because I am so humiliated with this person, this facade I have to present.
So why not change? I've done it before- I used to commonly be referred to as the 'Diet Nazi.' Why is it so hard for me to effect change in my life? To change who I am? To get and sustain the imputes to change? Regardless- it is hard, and I am struggling. I only know I desperately want to return to who I was, who I know I can be.

Prettier than BUgs.

Yesterday was a momentous occasion for me. It was a first since I have been in NC.

I did my hair.
(chorus of angels singing)

Seriously that was the first time I had dried my hair since we got here. I usually try to make some kind of effort with my hair, but it always includes a headband, a rubber band, and wet hair. Having this unfortunate condition of over-heating, I have not even considered taking an instrument forcing hot air at high velocity to my head. It's just not going to happen. It's not only the fact that upon finishing, my hair would instantly curl back up at the smallest bead of sweat. It's not just the fact that I sweat as I am drying my hair, thus creating an impractical and vicious cycle. It is not that I am so hot I cannot even stand to have it on my neck after it is done. It is all of these things. What was the occasion, you ask? I had to speak in church. There's nothing like making a first impression standing alone, speaking, trying to actually impart knowledge, on display in front of a large critical crowd to urge me towards better care of my appearance. Since I couldn't lose the 35 pounds I've gained, within the week (maybe 30, but not 35.)I couldn't dye my eyebrows darker, or clear my complexion, or vanish my pasty, often mysteriously bruised legs, I did what I could. Straighten my hair and wear a pretty dress.

That's actually not totally posed- I am looking a little sheepish b/c Timm was waiting for me in the car to leave for church and he caught me posing in the well-lit doorway. And of course I took these in the most flattering light, the very best angles- you know, only look at half my face, and like you are a towering giant so my figure seems to dissapear as it nears the floor. It's really deceiving. But my posterity won't know any difference- they'll think I was cute. (Wa ah ah ah ..)
*take special note of bleached eyebrows and very, very long hair.
Timm bought me a new dress at Target the night before and surprised me with it. He did a good job- It's so comfortable and easy to wear. Well, easy since I wore a v-neck under what it intended to be a tube-top. How on earth does anyone above an A cup keep those on? I am well beyond an A, but I think it would give anyone trouble. There were alot of adjustments I felt I was constantly making, but I still liked it. In fact, I got spastically friendly and welcome compliments on my whole person by the Sister Missionaries. (who happened to be the cutest companionship of sisters I've ever seen.) I loved church yesterday, even though I had to speak. (What's the deal? I've been in the ward maybe 6 weeks and already I've helped in nursery twice, taught 2 Young Women's classes, made favors for Enrichment, am committed to helping in a stake activity, attended a stake activity, spoken in church, and accepted a calling. more to come on that...)
And how did I fare with heat? Very well. It happened to be a little cooler than usual, and I took my time getting ready and had the ceiling fan full-blast while I dried. I had to spread my hair out off of my neck and lay under the fan before I could use a flat-iron. Until we left for church I made small and slow movements and tried not to get excited. Once we were sitting on the stand I started to lift my hair and hold it up. Not wanting to look like a freak, I said a prayer that I could cool down. Then I concentrated on cool, easy thoughts and chanted like a mantra, 'it is very comfortable in here. I think I feel a breeze'. It worked well enough. I may even dry it again some time.
I enjoyed my church experience more than I have in years...I felt so much more at home with the members in this ward than I ever felt from a ward as a whole In Utah. It's a good fit. There seems to be plenty of 'Sunday friends' that I could make, but I can't determine any friends beyond the Relief Society hour yet. The only people I have thought about is some single girl in the singles ward who I haven't even talked to and the Sister Missionaries who aren't allowed to...do anything not missionary-y and are here for an undetermined amount of time before they go home. I couldn't really 'hang' out with them, but we talked about devising 'service projects' where they could come over and help me with stuff.
I may have came off a little strange when I filled out the getting -to-know -you sheet... I wasn't really thinking about the purpose, and figured the presidency would just use it in getting to know me better. Turns out they use it to spotlight you in the monthly newsletter. I should have seen that coming. Maybe I wouldn't have answered "what was your most embarrassing moment?" with: " My whole life is a series of embarrassing moments strung together with a few redeeming ones. My daily life and my inability to manage it is an example of embarrassing.
Or when they asked what my dream job would be, maybe I would not have said 'Cat Collector (not-crazy.)' For interesting facts about me I may have chosen other things than I am a high school drop out that owns hairless cats...
Don't worry- I definately have not met any scrap buddies with whom I can share ideas, weekly sessions, and supply-swapping.
I have not met anyone I can see watching The Office with and eating snacks (me doing most of the eating...)
I do not have any play date friends, or local friends I can call and easily talk to for over an hour.
And I definately do not have another sister.
All the better. I keep you all close at hand and in my heart.