She's been a right stroppy hen these past few days, I knew she must be about to lay, and today she did. a perfect beautiful rather little egg.
I fried it. (this is the non photoshopped pic, there was a blood spot.)
Three children shared it.
What a clever hen!
I've been wanting to try this Colette pattern for a while, and with my brother's wedding approaching, I had the perfect excuse for a new dress.
I'd heard the Colette patterns were good for us curvier ladies, and that certainly seems to be true of this design.
I cut out the size 14 (US) , and it fits really well across the bust, unlike most patterns which require a full bust adjustment if you are over a c cup.
I did have to take in about a cm in the side seams of the upper bodice, and about 4 cms off the waist and hips, but that was simple.
I also switched the gathered sleeves for a simple cap sleeve because I really don't like gathered sleeves on me, I think coupled with my boobage and my fat upper arms, gathered sleeves just make me look butch.
I wahttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifs really concerned about making 16 buttonholes down the front opening of this dress,but using my automatic buttonhole foot saved me much swearing. Why on earth I've not used it before, I can't think. I didn't even think to use it when I was making Heather's wedding dress.
Ordinarily, I don't think I would've chosen this fabric, but I think it works pretty well. I wanted something darker and with a softer drape, but this was in my stash and in the interests of saving money,I thought I'd give it a go.
I think I should've gone with my first plan of using brown piping along the midriff seams, and possibly the yoke seams, but I didn't have any, and wanted to get on...
I'm probably going to finish the hem with some brown velvet or grossgrain ribbon.
The buttons are covered, and I'm planning to sew those on tonight.
Hopefully I can get some better piccies in a few days when it's completely finished. Meanwhile these self taken ones will have to do. I did ask Woody to take some, but he focused in rather too much on the boob area...
All in all though, a great pattern, I'll probably make it again, and will definately be trying some of the others, I've got "Crepe" to try out next.
fur·tive/ˈfÉ™rtiv/Adjective
1. Attempting to avoid notice or attention, typically because of guilt or a belief that discovery would lead to trouble; secretive.
I don't know if this is normal amongst babyloss parents, and maybe I'll regret outing myself here,but I am guilty of furtively browsing the internet, and scrutinising photos of baby girls. I don't really go looking for them, but if I happen upon a cute photo of a little girl who might be around the same age Florence would be now, I'll look closer...I'll wonder if that little girl has longer hair than Florence would by now,would I be able to put a little bow in it? Would Florence still have that touch of red in her hair? Would her eyes be bluer than the little girl I'm looking at, her wrists chubbier?
I feel kinda guilty doing this, like I'm stealing little bits of little girls and trying to build my own, make her alive, Maybe that's how Mary Shelley (a fellow babyloss Mama) felt when she wrote Frankenstien?
I know this little excercise is futile, I can't make Florence alive again, and honestly it's not usually an enjoyable past time, it stabs at my heart,but I still do it.
Yesterday, I almost came undone because of it. I clicked on a link,a little toddler in a beautiful little dress, and little red shoes. I told myself I wanted a closer look at the dress, research you see for future pattern drafting. I clicked through several photos,looking at seam details, and wondering to myself, then it hit me, the caption, the little girl in the photo with the chubby wrists, and the bow in her hair was called Florence. I had to steady myself by holding on to my desk, as the room span and I tried to stop the tears from springing to my eyes.
Regaining my composure,I scolded myself for looking,but since that moment,I've felt so guilty, and so very stupid.
I can't conjure her up,I can't know how she would've been, I can only know what she was,but that was so brief.
I look at her photos every day, sometimes I examine every little crease on her face and fingers, and sometimes it hurts too much to look too closely.
I expect I'll always look just a little bit too long, and a little bit too longingly at girls the age she should be, and I guess it'll always sting just a little to hear her name belonging to someone else.
1. Attempting to avoid notice or attention, typically because of guilt or a belief that discovery would lead to trouble; secretive.
I don't know if this is normal amongst babyloss parents, and maybe I'll regret outing myself here,but I am guilty of furtively browsing the internet, and scrutinising photos of baby girls. I don't really go looking for them, but if I happen upon a cute photo of a little girl who might be around the same age Florence would be now, I'll look closer...I'll wonder if that little girl has longer hair than Florence would by now,would I be able to put a little bow in it? Would Florence still have that touch of red in her hair? Would her eyes be bluer than the little girl I'm looking at, her wrists chubbier?
I feel kinda guilty doing this, like I'm stealing little bits of little girls and trying to build my own, make her alive, Maybe that's how Mary Shelley (a fellow babyloss Mama) felt when she wrote Frankenstien?
I know this little excercise is futile, I can't make Florence alive again, and honestly it's not usually an enjoyable past time, it stabs at my heart,but I still do it.
Yesterday, I almost came undone because of it. I clicked on a link,a little toddler in a beautiful little dress, and little red shoes. I told myself I wanted a closer look at the dress, research you see for future pattern drafting. I clicked through several photos,looking at seam details, and wondering to myself, then it hit me, the caption, the little girl in the photo with the chubby wrists, and the bow in her hair was called Florence. I had to steady myself by holding on to my desk, as the room span and I tried to stop the tears from springing to my eyes.
Regaining my composure,I scolded myself for looking,but since that moment,I've felt so guilty, and so very stupid.
I can't conjure her up,I can't know how she would've been, I can only know what she was,but that was so brief.
I look at her photos every day, sometimes I examine every little crease on her face and fingers, and sometimes it hurts too much to look too closely.
I expect I'll always look just a little bit too long, and a little bit too longingly at girls the age she should be, and I guess it'll always sting just a little to hear her name belonging to someone else.
A recent online discussion amongst exclusively pumping Mamas made me re think my reluctance to have many photographic reminders of this, our way of feeding.
I still have a tremendous amount of guilt and sadness surrounding my inability to breastfeed Ernest, but reading about the experiences of others who have come to the end of their pumping times, and how they wish they'd had more photographic proof of their efforts, has encouraged me today to take some photos.
This, dear readers is my freezer stash. There is six months worth of hard hard work here...and there's more in the fridge.
I haven't had spare milk to freeze since the end of March. These days I seem to have the supply and demand thing going fairly smoothly. Pumping around 800 mls a day, and Ernest drinking all of that.
This stash is my insurance policy.
I also decided this morning that considering the work that went into making and pumping this milk, it deserved a bit more respect than just dumping in bin liners and chucking in the freezer.
I saw this great link for storing breastmilk, and thought I'd give it a go.
Unfortunately, I hadn't frozen all of my milk flat, but I have about a million gift bags, and decided to use those for storage instead of the nasty bin liners anyway.
This is much neater.
You know, it's funny, I hadn't realised just how much milk there was in my freezer. Rearranging it all made me quite proud of myself.
And just for fun, here is a pic India took of Ernest yesterday, licking the drips on the pumping flange, after I'd finished!
I'm a bit lost for words lately. Life around here goes on in it's everyday busy way, and for that I'm grateful.
We have a month of birthdays ahead of us, and of course that is on my mind. Sid will turn 6, Ernest will turn 1, and there will be another year marked without Florence.
We are looking forward to the summer holidays. We have nothing much planned,but it will be nice to not have to think about school for a while.
I'm easing myself back into working, though of course there is never enough time in the day to get as much done as I'd like.
These dungarees did finally make it into my store this afternoon, after a week of waiting to be listed.
I'm still battling the comfort eating. (I keep trying to write something about that,but can't quite get there.), and even
Ernest and I hit the 11 month exclusive pumping mark the other day. He's eating more these days and I'm down to pumping only six times a day,around 800mls a day.
It's looking likely we'll make our second target of 1 year, though I never take anything for granted anymore. I still hope I can at least provide breastmilk for him until he's two.
So yep, life goes on....
It's taken me a while, but I've finally started adding stock to my new Etsy store. Some pinafores to begin with...
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There is more to come, bloomers, dungarees, trousers, for boys and for girls. I even have some pretties for Mummy in the pipeline.
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
There is more to come, bloomers, dungarees, trousers, for boys and for girls. I even have some pretties for Mummy in the pipeline.
