Stitch Rabbit

Putting On The Pants

June 1st couldn't have come at a better time. 30 Dresses in 30 Days is officially over, and it coincides with the day I have to pull on the proverbial big-girl pants in the family. The summer in film has officially begun and so far the calender is booked for the entire month of June and well, well...well, pretty much all of July... and I guess August is booked now too. This means pretty much single parenthood for me. I can hear the collective sigh of film spouses all over the city.... in fact, I'm considering starting a Film Wives Club, complete with boozy meetings in my backyard while the children play.

 

From The Archives: "Let It Come Out Of My Hands"

The good news is that I get a lot of shit done in the summer. I go into work mode and knock a lot of my list. The first thing I'm going to do is move part of my studio from the basement to my bedroom. Really sad to say I just stopped going down there. The weather got nice and the dark damp basement turned into the last place I wanted to go. So I think I'll bring up one machine on a table, a cutting mat on a table and stock the empty dresser in my bedroom full of necessities. Conveniently, this old house has a built in wall ironing board already in the bedroom. Doesn't get better than that. The rest can stay downstairs. I have barely sewn a stitch since making a puppy bed for Lucy and it's time to get down to business.

 

From the Archives: "A Photo Tour of A Day Alone"

I am practicing (ahem) wild gardening this year. Due to the fact that we got a puppy who has yet to understand the boundries of Mommy's garden, I decided to "carefree plant" this year, paying very little attention to what and where seeds were going, and what was happening with them other than to water. Turns out ignoring my seedlings almost entirely has worked out. Almost everything is thriving. If it continues this way and I recieve a nice bounty you can expect a book out early next spring called "The Lazy Gardener with a Puppy Gets Lucky".

Really, I am hoping for some bounty, but I also want to focus more on another part of the gardening world this year, which is canning. My backyard is too small to really grow the quantities I would need to really seriously can. (Besides the wildly overgrown blackberry bushes) But buying flats of fruit and vegetables from the country roadsides has enough of the charm and nostalgia in it for me to enjoy buying and canning immensely. I've done simple jams and canned fruit in the past, but I have never pickled a thing in my life and I have no idea what else goes on in the canning world. I'd like to give it a go. Are any of you canning? Any advice or good canning recipes?

 

 

 

Nearing The End.

Only one more day in a dress....

I think.... I think....

I think I might not go back.

Well, not all the way.

 

I think I like the dress.

Outdoor Kitchens

I took a cue from a friend who did the same thing this year when the weather go good. I hauled the old play kitchen out from their room, where it sat ignored and dusty and outgrown... and I hauled it into their tree house.

Since they spend almost every waking moment in that tree house I thought I ought to give them something more to do out there.

It was like reinvention.

I haven't seen them make so much coffee and pie in ages. They've even been doing the dishes. If only they'd do the ones inside.

Pretty In Pink

 

All The Pretty Dresses.

30 Dresses in 30 Days is settling into it's last week. I have to say I've impressed myself. I really didn't think I could hack the thirty days.... and with one  week left I've worn a dress every single day... and have even been inspired enough to buy a few of my own. ( More on that later this week) For now, here are a few of my favorite standout dresses I've been frolicking in this week and last!

 

Laundry is so pretty these days...

 

Biking is hard in the dress. There are a few that I feel comfortable in but most are too long, too flowery or too silly to wear while sweating and hauling 90 pounds of trailer and children. I'm looking forward to returning to a good pair of black jeans my new Chrome biking shoes! This one was easy, because it was so short and casual. In fact, it was this dress that gave me the confidence to get back to feeling comfortable in short dresses! 

 

Yes. I am wearing a tropical holiday-themed dress. When I pulled it out of the box my girlfriend sent to me at the beginning of the month I almost hurt an organ or two howling so hard. Never in a million years, would I frolic in a tropical holiday-themed anything, let alone a vintage dress that twirls and dons the words: "Bermuda! Island in The Sun!"

But one day the sun was so hot, and the park and the sangaria were on my mind and I was feeling a little like a holiday... so I tried it on. Turns out it's actually one of my favorites.

 

Probably the hardest time to put on a dress is to garden. It simply isn't functional. To mow the lawn and weedwack is some serious business and I don't want to feel like I'm from Little House on The Prairie. I want to feel like I can bend and kneel and haul crap around and then wipe my filthy hands on my jeans, shove my gloves into my back pockets and go in for some lunch. Fortunetly I have this dress to wear so even though I'm not working as hard as I ought to out there, I look like a garden myself which distracts from the weeds.

 

Finally, I've discovered that the dresses I like the best are made of more natural fibres like linen and cotton. This one was a perfect example of a dress I could wear again and again. I'm getting very comfortable in all these dresses. I'll be sad to let a few of them go!

 

 

I Love You.

I love you. You are my daughter, my first born child. I grew you in my belly and loved you every minute you have been here with me.

You astound me. Astonish me. Take my breath away. Make my heart swell. Bring laughter from my belly and draw tears from my eyes. You are the most magical creature I have ever met.

I do everything for you, and I would again and again. I love you, daughter of mine.

You're six.

Firsts.

For six years I've cut my daughter's hair. I think she's had a cut once or twice but someone else willing to wield the scissors, but mostly the blame is on me. You don't even want to know the shape of the scissors I use. When she wanted bangs I graduated to a pair of sewing scissors for the special job of framing her beautiful face with my handiwork.

So... as we near the 6th milestone for my baby girl this week, I thought - you know, she really ought to get a real haircut. One that makes her look a little less like one of the orphans in Annie.

She was so proud of herself. Climbing up onto the booster seat in the chair, reading her sparkly fairy book and answering our friend and hair lady Chenoa's questions... I realized, quite quickly how old she really is. With her glitter tights and her cute new bangs and book tucked under her arm. I'm so proud of my little girl.

And you won't believe who climbed into the chair after....

Unbelievable. Couldn't believe he sat for the whole thing. With an ultra serious look on his face. At the very end the pressure of sitting absolutely still and having women dot on him and snap photos got to him. He looked at me, his eyes filled and he burst into tears.

Possibly the cutest thing he's ever done.

A lollipop in hand and everything was fine. And now my kids don't look like hobos.

Film Wife.

It's that time of year again. The peonies in my garden are about to burst into the most beautiful deep red flowers. I wait for them every year, they take ages to open and it marks the beginning of the busiest season for our family. As a seasoned film wife I can feel the peak season ramping up, as the calender gets filled and husband/Daddy sightings get fewer and fewer. Film is a balancing act, one that works well sometimes with evenly spread out jobs, time enough in between for solid family hangouts, and jobs booked ahead. In the winter film life can be as bare and cold as the northern tundra without a day's work in sight. And there's time like the now, the summer heating up, when the work just goes on and on and on and on.

And so it always takes a minute to get into it.

The film summers used to rock my world, as a new mom who needed all the support and hands on deck she could find. The idea of not knowing when your husband will be home to take the screaming infant from your tired breast is enough to send most new moms into fits of tears, complete with crumpled tissues and the biggest "Why Me?" complex you can grow.

And then life goes on and the winter comes and the work gets less and you wonder why you ever made such a fuss and wish your husband would get back to work already so you can go on with your idyllic little life at home, folding towels and planting flowers, and sewing in the evenings, waiting for him to come home.

And then you grow even more, and gain the status of the experienced film wife. You stop asking when he will be coming home, stop praying he will swoop in right at the end of dinner to help with the whining bath and crying bedtime and the mountain of dishes you've ignored all day. You stop feeling sorry for yourself and you begin to take pride in all that you can accomplish without the help of a spouse. And they take pride in you. You begin to understand just how powerful and competent you really are, that you and the children can survive three weeks four weeks two months of mowing lawns and oil changes and extremely large grocery shops and cleaning all of it - all of the house, all of the yard, all of the clothes, all of the time. You become a team, you and the kids, making the house work and your lives work while such an essential part of your family is away.... and your husband cheers you on from his own post, on set making a living so we can do exactly that... live. Happily, confidently, and with a sense that as a family, together or apart, you can get it done. It's all for the greater good. It's for our future. One day soon we will spend our days working together rather than apart, for ourselves and for our family.

So here I am, at the beginning of the summer. The calendar is filling and the days are longer and the back door stays open later, waiting for his return. I am getting into it. There hasn't been time to sew, time to knit, time to sit. The laundry and the dishes are multiplying and my freshly planted garden needs most of my evening time. But the momentum is waking me up to the speed of the summer months, and so here we go. We are blooming again.

 

Her Newest Muse

I've become her favorite subject. If anyone knows my daughter they know her in a dress. If not a dress than a skirt. I dare you to try and get her in a pair of jeans. It's like pulling teeth, and trust me, we're going through that now too and it's not easy. **In fact, on a total side note, how long does a child really need to wiggle their tooth till it comes out? We've been waiting on this thing for a month.**

But back to the topic at hand... ever since I donned the first dress on the first day of 30 Dresses my daughter has been my very own entourage, oohing and aahing me as I twirl somewhat ungraciously around the kitchen in my frock of the day. Apparently I've impressed her so much that she has told her classmates what I am up to, and now my entourage has grown to a group of smiley chattering five and six year old girls on the playground.

And now I'm getting my portrait done.

This is me in my pink platform heels, toes in of course, in true hipster "I have to pee or I am posing for a photo, I don't know I'm confused" look. I'm wearing my golden yellow crown (of course) and check out how long my hair is these days. Babe.

She's been drawing me a lot lately and they're pretty awesome, which reminded me of this really cool idea I'd read about before, making dolls out of your children's drawings. Such a fantastic idea! There are a number of companies out there doing this, and I think I'm going to give it a shot with one of her drawings. If you'd like to check out a bunch of them, take a look at Child's Own Flickr pages!

What a great childhood keepsake!

 

 

 

 

 

Grown.

I've spent six Mother's Days in my thirty years recieving slobbering kisses sticky with pancake syrup and handmade cards squished by the tiny hands thrusting them at me as I peek out from under the covers, milking the automatic turn to sleep in for as long as I possibly can. At some point a lovingly made cappacino is handed to me from the lovely father of the sweet little babes who've honored me with the title "Mom".

It's been six Mother's Days of pure heaven.

There's no book on Motherhood, although there are many who try to write the rules. We all end up doing what we should - going with our guts and with our hearts. I've spent six years watching my children grow from tiny seven pound kittens into walking, running, dancing beings who astound me more and more every day, as I watch them become exactly who they are supposed to be. They just know how to grow, how to learn, how to shape and master.

I've spent six years watching myself, in the mirror and in the world. There are parts of me that have changed, have aged, have fallen away, have left. I look different than I did when this all began. I feel different. I've grown. My children have taught me to walk away from what doesn't fit me anymore. They've inspired me to start new things, to take what I'm interested in and run with it, full tilt. The enthusiasm they have, I want to have too. My kids.... they are teaching me all the time.

As I'm sitting here on the eve of the Sunday I am crowned Queen Mommy for a day, I'm tired and sore and sun-kissed from a weekend of riding bikes, going on dates, hanging out with friends, and digging in the garden with my kids. It's been wonderful so far. This Mother's Day, under the covers, covered in sticky kisses, I am going to celebrate all the ways I have grown as a mother and as a person. And I'm going to thank my kids for that.

Happy Mother's Day to all the women who have held hands and wiped tears and kissed tiny cheeks and let their children show them exactly what love is.

 

 

 

Learning To Be.

There's something really nice about a dress. I don't if it's the way that people react to a woman in a dress or if it's the way a woman carries herself in one, but a dress creates a certain kind of feeling that brings out a niceness in people. It's like saying "Today is a really nice day and I'm going to dress for it." People react to that, smile more, find a woman in a dress approachable and friendly.

My freshman week in nicer attire didn't start out feeling so nice. In fact it was anything but. The terrible weather attributed to my unease, but frankly the biggest wall was my own attitude towards the dress. I'd forgotten how to carry myself in a dress. I felt like wearing one was too exposing, not tough enough for me. I wasn't sure I could be myself. I had forgotten completely about the power of the dress.

Putting on a dress has encouraged me to care a little more about the way I looked head to toe. I don't think in a vain way, I think, more in a very loving way. I feel like I want to present myself differently, like someone who took the time to look nice, because I value myself enough to care.

Peope interact differently with a woman in a dress. I think it comes back to the power of the dress. When wearing a dress, a woman feels pretty, she feel confident. She carries herself differently and people feel that. There's a contagious kind of happy that can happen around a woman who feels good in her clothes.

So I'm a week in... and I think I've reined in some of my biggest fears around wearing a dress. I think I'm gaining confidence and feeling more and more comfortable. I think I can still be me and be in a dress. It's kind of nice.

What are you wearing when you feel the most like you?

Weekend Frocks

 

What I have learned this weekend:

 

Most dresses have no pockets. I started wearing all those vintage aprons I've been collecting.

 

Biking and dresses aren't the easiest combo for me. It would be different if I was riding a cruiser to the market for kale, but I prefer to pretend I'm a racer on my bike and the dress just doesn't cut it. Also, low cut and v-neck dresses are fairly risque.

I made it work anyway. A girl's gotta ride her bike.

 

Any dresses that have come from a house with a doggie family member gets full assault inspection, complete with entire wagging body and intense sniffing by Lucy every morning. It's super weird and I just have to stand there till it's over.

 

I'm quickly running out of accessories and cute shoes to go with all the dresses. I think it's time to go shopping. What are you wearing these days??

Let's Kick It Up a Notch.

Okay, so far 30 Dresses in 30 Days has been pretty good, but I'll be the first to admit that it's also been pretty tame. I can't help but feel a little too safe in the dresses I've chosen so far. T-shirt materials, cozy and uncomplicated. Basic shades of blacks and greys and deep maroons. I've been choosing all the dresses I would've already worn.

Lingering in my closet are the brighter, more spectacular numbers I've been cooly ignoring. Partly becuase of the cool weather. I defientely have the habit of dressing darker on darker days. It feels almost inhuman to wear white on cloudy day. Gotta shake this.

So when an armful of dresses came into my hands last night I decided I would pick the one from the group that I was least likely to wear - no matter what it was.

Oh man. I haven't stopped laughing.

Now, this is a really cute dress, I'm sure. And I bet it looks absolutely awesome on the friend who lent it to me. But I am entirely uncomfortable in this dress. Reason number one is it's leopard print. I used to wear a lot of leopard print - purple leopard print, when I was a teen-aged punk rocker. I had this tiny, tiny short skirt that I would wear with three or four studded belts and keys hanging off my hip, complete with shredded black tights and combat boots with red laces. I haven't worn leopard print since.

 

Reason number two is that it has built in shoulder pads. I feel like you should call me Coach.

I've never been okay with shoulder pads. Some ladies can totally rock them. I feel like body-checking people and scoring touchdowns. Friday Night Lights!

 

And finally, Reason number three is probably my favorite. It's a little secret I'm going to share with you... you may consider it cheating, but consider that I have to wear this for the entire day!!

It's really shorts!!!

So give me a break on the fact that this little number has legs and I'll let you sit there and giggle at my skinny pale legs in what is endearingly named "The Skort".

 

Today I Am...

Reading more about the syphon coffee process after finding this gem while thrifting.

 

Winding the last of the denim colored Anzula yarn I got on my trip to Toronto. It's their For Better or Worsted hand-dyed yarn and it's unbelievably beautiful.

 

Working away at mustard colored socks and flipping through Ravelry patterns for ideas for my newest yarn.

 

Considering a tamer version of the Master Cleanse... or at least just juicing all these lemons and drinking the hell out of them.

 

Wondering how much longer I'm going to have to wear a jacket over all these pretty dresses. Come on May, work your magic.

Reincarnation.

I haven't worn this dress for exactly six years. Probably because the last time I wore this dress I looked like this:

Like a fat pregnant lady with a bad haircut eating blue cake. I was about to explode a baby out of me and the cake turned my whole mouth blue. Towards the end of the afternoon someone snapped a photo of me sitting in a chair, the dress hiking up my thighs and giving everyone my version of pregnant indecent exposure. Who knows how long I was sitting like that. No-body's going to tell a pregnant lady you're getting a full viewing of underwear. You just deal with it, she's pregnant. She can't really do anything about that kind of stuff.

I have never been able to get past that image in my head. So the dress gets shoved back in the closet. Until today...

 

Turns out I totally love this dress. It's black with flowers, it's light and easy. I think I origianlly got it in a trade with my girlfriend Jenny Lee, back when we lived in apartments above the breakfast place we worked at. Back before we ever knew we'd push our kids out one day apart. Seriously, she pushed out hers and then I pushed out mine.

 

I can't believe I used to house babies in there.

 

Alright, so day two and it's official. I kind of like wearing a dress today. Am super glad I don't look like a house eating cake in it anymore. Dress reincarnated.