Dress Design for Shabby Apple dresses II

Dress Design for Shabby Apple Dresses




Star is also taking on the Dare to design challenge for Shabby Apple's Spring collection:

I was thinking about the competiton and what to draw beacause I'm in cold weather mode and this is supposed to be a SPRING design. Then I remebered a shirt I saw a few days a go at Target, a tunic shirt I have, and a dress that I have, then kind of combined them. the main color/fabric is blue cotton, not really solid blue but somewhat infused with white and then at the same time, not blotchy (this is the kind of fabric used in my tunic shirt only in this case it would be a slightly darker shade). Near the bottom of the skirt there is an embroidered vine of green. I've always liked birds. They like to sing, just like me. I thought it would look so sweet. Besides, the dress was designed for the bird. The bird is a cutout in the same material as the dress except in red with a few stiches of black the for the eye. Around the collar I added a vintage-ized area (yes I just made that up) that has dark blue lace and red plastic buttons about an inch apart.

I would probably pair it with my green ballet flats and on chillier days a white long sleeve shirt underneath or a light sweater in the same shade of red as the bird and the buttons.

STAR

Dress Design for Shabby Apple dresses

Dress design for Shabby Apple Dresses



Angelfish has taken up the "Dare to design" challenge for Shabby Apple's Spring collection. I'll let her speak for herself:

This dress was inspired by an orange shirtdress my Mother wears with jeans or leggings.
It's a Jersey knit dress in gray and yellow, but the belt and headband are white. The sleeves are 3/4 length.
It should be paired with yellow heels or sandals.
The longer black necklace was inspired by one my sister, Sparkle, made recently.

Even if I don't win, I hope I get to make this dress because I'm proud of it.

What would you do for a Klondike bar?

Things I have actually done for a Klondike bar:

1. I'd ride the subway four stops with a child who needs stitches in her head and a Klondike bar to keep her spirits up.
2. I'd walk three blocks to the grocery store and pay money.
3. I'd unwrap it and eat it if someone handed it to me.
4. Nothing of consequence
5. ...Ummm, I'm out.

What would I do for my kids? Now, we're talking motivation!! My children are a constant source of inspiration to do more; to be more. I wrote about it here.

Things I have actually done for my children:

1. KEEP TRYING.
At age five, Star stayed up for several hours mastering the snap. The next morning she snapped and said, "I'm the kind that sticks to it." She made a poster for me during my marathon training last year. When I would get weary on long runs, thinking about that poster and the girl who made it was better than jelly beans. Domestic functionality decreased when I was sweating over my first published essay, but Star encouraged me, "If it makes you happy then you should keep working on it."


2. CARE
Angelfish is sensitive to others. A tug at her heartstrings puts her hands to work. At age nine she planned and prepared chicken enchiladas, a vegetable side and dessert for an injured neighbor. She learns our neighbor's names and even asks for their phone numbers or business cards. Angelfish's example has inspired me to stop the stroller for a sidewalk chat with neighbors when it would be more convenient to pass on by.


3. BE BRAVE
Sparkle climbs light posts and street signs. She thinks dead birds are "interesting." She studies insects outdoors but kills them when they come inside. She tells teenage boys, "Pull up your pants. I can see your underwear!" She tackles math, science and art the same way. She's not afraid to experiment or get messy. On Sparkle's behalf, I once steadied my nerves and replaced her tooth in the socket from whence it was knocked. Impressed with the thrill of independence she feels at walking rails or scaling fences, I started working on my handstand. It may not be a marketable skill, but it sure would give my confidence a boost if I could hold a handstand. I've gotten up to two seconds.


4. TEST LIMITS
Torpedo was born like a rocket and has been pushing the envelope ever since. If there is a fence he wants to be on the other side. If there is a gate he must exit. If we're inside he throws things out the window (phone, remote, wireless mouse, bottles from the shower, books, toys, keys, etc.). While I'm teaching him to recognize and respect limits, he's teaching me to test my limits and try new things. In fact, his smooth speedy delivery partially inspired me finally to step out of the mainstream and fulfill my dream of a home birth.


5. ACCEPTANCE
Mermaid meets the world on her terms and she's usually happy. Today she clapped and smiled while a child six weeks her junior ran rings around her. She didn't roll onto her face and cry because she is nearly two and still not walking alone. She isn't on a schedule, timeline or trying to fill a mold. Mermaid invites me to meet all my children where they are with pleasure and confidence that they will progress. For example, as a home school mom teaching a literature based curriculum, I was teetering on panic over a reluctant reader. Mermaid reminded me that patience, confidence and consistently meeting my child on her terms would heal the relationship and solve the problem. Furthermore, she reminds me to move forward happily, though incrementally, from where I am rather than from where I think I should be by now.


Nah! I wouldn't paint my face bright blue for a Klondike bar. That was for the kids too!

Happy Mirage

"If you're not happy without things, you won't be happy with things." It's amazing that I memorized this part of the Brite music tapes I grew up listening to because it wasn't set to music. The nursery maid says it of the spoiled (and depressed) princess that she serves each day.

It's one of those lines that I understand better with experience. At first it felt like an easy answer which was Mom's way of saying, "I'm not giving you that, but don't complain about it because you choose to be happy." A couple of years ago I read a quote by a famous actor stating that he wished everyone were as rich as he was so they would know that wealth doesn't create happiness. That's a no brainer. I've seen the ruinous lives of the celebrities spread across the magazines whenever I have to buy more dental floss or sunscreen at my local pharmacy.

There are other happiness mirages that have fooled me. There is the body image mirage which promises happiness if some goal of numbers or physical feats can be met. Didn't work. I've been plagued by the notion that if only I were more organized or if I purged more clutter I could build on the summit of happiness. Not a bad idea, but not happiness. For some it is marriage or children. For years, I thought more space was the answer but that was debunked after a month living in 5,000 square feet. More space=more responsibility, more cleaning and less family togetherness. I thought a basement playroom would bring peace, order and happiness to my life. I haven't been able to test that one out, but everyone that I know with a basement says their kids bring toys into the kitchen and want to play near Mom. At our house, we call this "clumping." I'm sure Mrs. Newton would have written about this law of attraction if she'd had the time.

There is still an oasis shimmering in the distance for me. I'll admit that I do think that having a yard with a fence would alleviate 80% of the pressure in my life by allowing me to unleash my younger children at my convenience. I can hear the nursery maid chanting in my ear, "If you're not happy without a yard, you won't be happy with one." Her words empower me. My happiness is my responsibility. Nobody can give it to me and nobody can take it away. I'm not holding my happiness in reserve for a yard. There is plenty to be glad about. I am happy right now.

Is there a mirage in between you and Happy?

How do you choose Happiness?

Bedfellows: ownership & generosity

I'm not ignoring my fighting girls in the next room. I can hear every word they're saying. I'm letting them work it out.

1: "Get off my BED!!!"

3: "Why are you screaming at me? Why is it such a big deal?!"

1 "I have to scream at you because when I ask you to get off, you don't get off unless I scream at you!"

1,2,3: Variety of yelling, screaming and high pitched harumphing.

Maybe I am ignoring them. I'd better see if I can model some problem solving skills for my beloved daughters.

Me: Do we live in a big house or a small house?

1,2,3: A small house.

Me: Do you have lots of private things and spaces or actually just one private space in the whole apartment?

1,2,3: Just one private space

Me: And what is that private space?

1,2,3: My bed

Me: That's right. Your bed is your one private space that is just for you. You do not have to share it. However, because your bed is your one private space it also gives you an opportunity to be generous. You can extend an invitation to a friend or a sibling to sit or play on your bed and that should be recognized as an act of generosity. In this house, you are not expected to agree all the time. You ARE expected to be kind and respectful to each other. If someone says you cannot go on their bed, I will back them up on that.
Below: This is how we fit five kids into one bedroom (crib left of door)


I'm actually happy that I get to share my bed with someone I love, but it does make me wonder, what is my private space? I share a desk, a computer, a dresser, a closet and a cell phone. Honestly, there is usually somebody reading over my shoulder. My only privacy is in my thoughts. Generally, I want to share those as well. Maybe since my thoughts are the only things that are truly mine, sharing them is the only way I can be generous. So like Dogberry of Much Ado About Nothing, I bestow all my tediousness on you. ;)

Glutenny

I've been baking wheat bread for 15 years. Lately, I've been grinding my own hard red winter wheat to make it. Last week I inherited eight boxes of gluten from a sometime vegetarian fleeing the city for less crowded, less competitive and (let's face it) less filthy streets. I am astonished at the difference. I thought I had enough gluten because every batch of bread I make mixes for eight minutes on medium creating this vital ingredient in the process. Gluten composes about 80% of the protein contained in wheat seed. More important to eaters, it gives kneaded dough its elasticity, allows leavening and contributes chewiness to baked products. The above package claims that additional gluten will also increase the shelf life of my home made bread.

Protien
Elasticity
Leavening
Chewiness
Increased shelf life
Yes!

I didn't really think that a few teaspoons of tan powder would make much of a difference with my heavy home ground wheat. I'm happy to be wrong. This bread is everything I want it to be. Thick, soft and chewy, but not too dense. It has a nice crumb, cuts beautifully and is perfect for sandwiches. I can't test the shelf life claim because the family is noshing it into oblivion. Is this cheating?

This sudden jump in bread quality got me thinking about life. I believe in the law of the harvest. I believe in sowing what I reap and small and simple things bringing great things to pass. I'm creating my own little bit of gluten in the process. But sometimes I learn from another's vast experience. Sometimes I can blend their additional knowledge into my life and experience an astonishing jump in personal growth over a short time. It makes me more substantive (protien), flexible (elasticity), confident (leavening) and likable (chewiness). It may not extend my expiration date, but it will definitely increase my quality of life and get me off the shelf more often.

Right now, I'm ingesting 20+ years worth of distilled experience in home and family organizing from Teri Ebert.

Have you had leaps in your progression?

Who inspires you?

Hallelujah! (Potty Training)

"They'll let you know when they're ready." So said my pediatrician and he's been right about the first three kids. I created a lot of relationship tension and wasted a lot of time, treats and cleaning supplies the first time around. That was with a compliant willing child who wanted to please me by potty training. A few weeks after I stopped pressuring my second child with "just checking" trips to the bathroom and potty bribes, she told me that she needed to use the potty. She never used another diaper after that, day or night. I think she just wanted it to be her idea. She's that kind of kid. I didn't even bother with my third child. I just waited until I started finding dry diapers discarded next to the potty and asked if she wanted undies.

Enter Torpedo. He's three and three quarters years old. Once he realized he had control over those bowels, he just shut them off. It gets to the point where all his energy is spent on clenching. It's been traumatic for everyone. I won't detail the times and ways that I've had to "help" him. Suffice it to say that every time we're in the bathroom together he says, "No gloves. No gloves."

Last week, our neighbor's loaned us three potty training DVDs. Torpedo took these movies to heart. He quotes scenes throughout the day: "Is that a potty chair? [buzzer sound] No! That's a bicycle." He is constantly asking me if I'm a big kid and if I want to go to the potty. When I turn the tables on him he tells me that he likes babies. He likes baby toys and he does not want to use the potty or wear underwear. Were these DVDs creating a reverse psychology situation? I've been doing everything I can think of to help him succeed on his own including prayer, setting him on the potty when I see the signs, a high veggie diet and slipping Miralax or mineral oil into his sippy cup. I confess, I even let him play games on my iPhone while he's sitting there. Sometimes these things take awhile.

Well, it's working. Today he put his hands on his stomach and said, "I need to go to the potty." Hallelujah! I sent a grateful little heart-prayer up as I "flew" him to the bathroom. Minutes later he came out and started playing (sans pants) in the living room. I asked him if he "went." He didn't make a big deal about it, but sure enough... Then he asked for some race car undies. Zoom! Zoom!