Cue ZZ Top

‘Cause every girl’s gonna go crazy for my sharp-dressed man.

Yes, I’m finally posting pictures of Konik’s ring bearer outfit! Here’s where I talk about the making of it.

He would like you all to see his van.

Yeah, they look like high waters when he’s sitting down. I added some length to the legs, but it looks like I probably could have been a little more generous. These won’t fit him long. I might add a cuff…

Like this, Maman?

This pose was totally his idea. I was having trouble getting him to stay in one spot because he always wants to come see the picture display on the back of the camera. Problem is, he starts coming to look before I’ve even snapped the shot. So I told him to stand on his car mat. For some reason, he took a knee. Funny dude.

That was supposed to be in my mouth.

He was trying to chew a straw like Axl Rose does at the beginning of the “Welcome to the Jungle” video. Yeah, I know Axl wasn’t the first to chew on a straw, but my kids don’t know that, and they think his every move is cool. So in an attempt to emulate their hero, they pull straws out of my broom. Gross. Besides, what does a straw + suit make? Hick chic? Not that the cabin backdrop really goes, either, but ya get what ya get.

Wouldn’t you know it

We got back yesterday afternoon from nearly a week of family reunion/wedding stuff. It was great, a lot of fun, but hectic! At any one time, there were 13-25 people in the vacation rental house, and seven of them were children under 6 years old. “Busy” is an understatement. The day of the wedding reminded me of the scene in “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” — people running up and down the stairs in various states of dress; Oops forgot to grab the girls’ hair ribbons; Has anyone seen Mom’s shoes? Somebody needs to get out of the bathroom ’cause I still need to do my makeup! — and we were the family of the groom!

Things didn’t get any better when we arrived at the reception site for pictures. I went to help my sister unload the wedding cake from her car and we were greeted by a mass of mushed up cake and frosting in the back and dripping off the hatch onto us. It was horrendous. In ten years of my sister making and decorating wedding cakes, she has never had one collapse. She was heartbroken and we all felt awful for her. My little brother has the most even-keeled personality of anyone I know, so he took the news in stride and L’s family were all very gracious about the cake disaster. My grandpa took my sister to the store to try and find some kind of replacement cake. When the pictures were done, Mr. Gren took our crazy monkeys back to the house to burn off some steam before the wedding and I stayed at the reception site with my sister to help her dress up the pseudo-wedding cake. We still managed to have some time to wind down back at the house before the actual wedding.

Everyone should get to see how lovely the cake was before it died.

At the wedding, Mr. Gren found his seat and carefully distributed brand new coloring books and crayons along the pews where the six little flower girls and one little ring bearer would be seated after they performed their duties. Meanwhile, my sister, sister-in-law and I were corralling all the kids in the back room waiting for show time and trying to keep them out of the way of the bridesmaids and bride. Of course, right when the wedding coordinator popped her head in to let us know it was almost time to line up, I noticed that Konik wasn’t smelling so fresh… and Mr. Gren had the diaper bag. Ugh. But the kids all did a good job walking down the aisle and filed in to their seats just like they were supposed to (and then Mr. Gren whisked Konik away to get him cleaned up).

In the midst of all that chaos, neither of us got a picture of little man in his spiffy wedding clothes. Not even at the reception! So, unless one of my family members got a photo of him, we’ll have to try to stage a shot. And of course, it didn’t occur to any of us to take a picture of me in my new dress, either. I’ll try to get some pictures taken this week!

Rana waiting for dinner at the reception

But, despite all the craziness on our end of things, my brother and his bride were beaming the entire day and thoroughly enjoyed all the festivities. And that’s the most important part!

Congratulations, S & L!

 

Somebody’s gonna look good

In just a few days, my little brother (little in years, not in stature) is going to get married! He and my soon-to-be sis-in-law asked if Rana & Granota would be flower girls and if Konik would be the ring bearer. Well, of course the girls were thrilled out of their little minds! Princess fantasies abound! I did not have to make flower girl dresses because my four nieces are also going to share the flower girl duties and naturally, they all have to match. A whole little flowery entourage. Unless they’re going relay style in honor of the recently completed Olympics… (S & L, I’ve got an idea for you!) Originally, I wasn’t going to have to sew anything for Konik, either, but the lovely Miss L couldn’t find a tiny suit in his size. So I volunteered to save her some time hunting and set to work sewing.

Cute stuff!

This super cute little vest was made with help from the tutorial by Ashley at Make It-Love It. For my template, instead of a t-shirt, I used the button-up shirt that Konik would be wearing underneath the vest. And lucky me, I didn’t have to sew that either! We found a tiny white linen Children’s Place shirt for a couple bucks at the thrift store. Woo hoo! The pants I made using the same pattern as I used for his Easter suit. I added a little extra length to the biggest size and it’s a good thing I did! Looks like that will be the last time I can use that pattern.

The fabric is polyester shantung. I hate polyester and try to avoid it whenever possible. But, in this instance, the only alternative is real silk shantung and — in case you’ve missed it — we’re not exactly in the tax bracket that can afford making silk suits for 2 year olds. Sorry, kid. I love ya, but I know what you’d do to it and that, in turn, would make me weep. Not like anyone can fault me. For less than $15, my little man is going to be stylin’.

Real pockets, fake fly.

I can’t let him wear it just yet, though. I would be beside myself is something happened to these clothes before the wedding! Now, if we can just get him convinced to wear his new black dress shoes that go with it…

Back in the saddle

The sewing saddle! No, I’m not sewing saddles. Nor anything else Western-themed. Just sewing. Well, actually, I haven’t even taken the cover off my sewing machine yet. But I did iron fabric, lay it out, and cut three pattern pieces out of it so far. Then I had to go pick up my daughters from VBS and get lunch for the kids and well… now it’s naptime and the sewing machine is just too noisy during naptime. Not like they sleep anyways, but I like to maintain the illusion of providing a quiet, peaceful environment for them to sleep, if they’re so inclined. Which they aren’t. But I always hope. And now it sounds like one of them is out. Pardon me while I go return small children to their beds.

Alright, where was I? Ah, yes. Sewing. Or the illusion of sewing. There are a lot of illusions around here. It’s like a carnival fun house. Or a magician’s show. Speaking of magicians, Rana is in the bathroom soaking play-doh in water for “a magic trick.” The magic trick also involved cutting a sponge into small pieces and getting those wet, too. I’m tired and she’s being quiet, so… she gets to play magician. I’ll probably regret it later when the sink is clogged with play-doh.

Last week I decided I should start sewing again. I cut out all the pattern pieces and laid out my fabric and then realized that because of the print on the fabric, I really needed to turn it around the other way. It sounded like a lot of work to me at the time, so I just left it. Rayon challis is hard to get to lie flat and I had just worked so hard to get it all spread out and even when I noticed the pattern. Feh. So it stayed there all week, getting progressively wrinklier as my children took turns playing merry-go-round in my chair even though I tell them everyday that they are not allowed in Maman’s sewing area. They don’t listen to me. They don’t listen to anybody. They might listen to Duff McKagan because they think he’s awesome, but probably only the first time. After that, he wouldn’t carry any more weight than the rest of us around here.

Someday, this will be a blouse.

As the week went on and I avoided my fabric, the thought dawned on me that my brother is getting married in a few weeks and I have nothing to wear to the ball. I mean, the wedding. Well it’s a darn good thing I know how to sew, isn’t it? I looked through my fabric waiting to become dresses and found a lot of wool. Hm. Even though summer shows up only sporadically here in Washington, I’m not sure I’m down with a wool dress at the end of August. Next option — cottons. One is white with large navy blue polka dots. It’s gonna make a killer dress, but, eh, a little too much white for a wedding. My other option is a purple/green floral. It may even be a Swiss dot. It’s not; I checked. The pattern it is destined for is cute. I’m not convinced it’s really wedding-y enough, though. But I have this underlying guilt that says I shouldn’t buy any more new fabric until I use up at least some of what I already have.

Someday sooner, this will be a dress.

Purple floral it is. I got it ironed, which is no easy task when you’re trying to simultaneously eliminate wrinkles on one end and wad up the other end to keep it from dragging through wood shavings, dirt, and mouse poop on the floor. I managed to get it folded in half again and spread out on my sewing table and even achieved the cutting of three pieces from it! But I already told you that. Now I’m sitting here with a weird nerve pain in my right arm, listening to water running and pouring in the bathroom, and feeling so drowsy that I could just go       to        sleep     righ

What? What was that? Ohhh, right. Drowsy. Why don’t my children sleep? They’re trying to kill me by sleep deprivation. Panama! Panama-ah-ah-ah! There’s none of that, thank goodness. Besides, if they’re going to blare music, it’s usually “Welcome to the Jungle” or “Magic” (by the Cars); it just depends on the night. It’s the waking up at 6:30 every morning that’s killing me. And the waking up in the middle of the night. And the not going to sleep until 9:00. And then they won’t take their naps. Sewing on low sleep is not normally advised. We’ll see what I manage to turn out in the next week or so.

For now, I’d better see what kind of magic they’re cooking up in the bathroom. Yes, “they.” Once Granota discovered that Rana was up, naptime met its demise and instead turned into a little watery pow-wow. Good times.