People who don't have kids should know this: parents talk about their kids' sleep habits because we live and die by their naps and nighttime routine. There's a reason why interrogators use sleep deprivation as a coercive technique: it makes you fucking crazy. It also makes you stupid and uncoordinated and likely to agree to anything. (Though courts have ruled sleep deprivation is not torture, Amnesty International has deemed it inhumane. But babies don't give a shit about Geneva Conventions and the like.)

Anyway, I am tired. But here is what I did while my kid napped today. That pile of paper to the right is the patterns for my two-year-old's Halloween costume. When she told me she wanted to be Max from Where the Wild Things Are, I jumped for joy because I think it will be fun to make. So far I've drafted the patterns for the front, back, sleeve, hood, ears and tail, and made the whole thing in muslin to test it out. I've never drafted pants or a hood before so I wanted a sample to make sure I did it all right.

The little muslin suit looks kinda like a baby Hazmat outfit, doesn't it? The only changes I need to make to my patterns now is make the hood bigger and adjust the leg length. I had to bribe my daughter with fruit snacks to get her to try it on for me.

A dress for me

My apartment looks like shit right now. I blame this dress. (And homework for my patternmaking class, writing assignments, taking care of my toddler full-time, and finally enjoying some fall weather in NYC.) I even quit Twatting or whatever it is you do over on Twitter because I realized it was a timesuck that wasn't actually offering me anything positive. Mostly I just read stuff that made me mad (Thanks, Roger Ebert). Plus no one I know is on it, so all my followers were companies trying to advertise to me. At least on Facebook I can play Farmville (kidding, kidding).

While I drafted the pattern myself from my sloper, the design is Elaine May's adorable Coffee Date Dress, which can be found on Burdastyle.com. Not that I get to go on dates ever. That would require a babysitter. And more money than we would like to spend on a drink. Better to lock the baby in her bedroom and split a box of wine in the kitchen. Anyway, yesterday I wore my new dress to a matinee of Billy Elliot on Broadway. (Of course I loved it, though I have to admit much of the charm for me comes from listening to small children swear.) It feels so good to have the waistline at my actual waistline,

The instructions provided by Elaine May are very good. I also referenced the “sew an all-in-one facing” tutorial on Burdastyle) and the great instructions on Burdastyle.com member Grosgrain’s blog, which I am totally in love with and in awe of because she has three kids, blogs a new dress every week AND has great legs.

I'm going to make another one for myself, and maybe one for a friend to whom I owe a favour. I would totally recommend this project for anyone who's ready to go beyond sewing a pillowcase or whatever.

Butterflies for Lucy (The One in Which She Thwarts My Efforts)

See that face? That's the pained look my daughter makes when I'm forcing her to do something against her will (see also: eating food, wearing shoes, talking to Grandpa on Skype). Here, I am encouraging her to try on this dress I made for her this week and pose for pictures.

She's only 26 months old and already she's clued into the idea that every kid's modus operandi should be thwarting the Things That Mom Really Wants Me To Do. I thought I had a few years of co-operation before that kicked in. But so it begins. In fact, this might be the last time she wears this dress. (If she continues to refuse to wear it, maybe I'll raffle it off here. I hope your kid has skinny arms like mine does: the armholes are on the small side, and I don't have any of this butterfly fabric left to remake it. I guess I could always rip the sleeves out and turn it into a sleeveless romper dress.)

Some kids seem to live to please their parents. Mine is like I was: my mom loved pink, ergo I hated it. My mom adored watching me dance, therefore I threw tantrums on the way to ballet class. Some would call that bratty, but I'm guessing it has something to do with asserting independence, blah, blah, kill your mother, marry your father, blah blah...what was I saying?

I'm already working hard on playing it cool re. the things I hope she gets into. Like music. My one regret is that I have never learned to play an instrument. Of course I could learn now. I'm a big girl — and there are three guitars, a mandolin, a harmonica and calimba in our apartment. But thanks to that jerk Malcolm Gladwell, we all know mastering any new skill takes roughly 10,000 hours of practice, and who has that kind of time? I'm only on episode 6 of this season of Mad Men.

Anyway, though she may never wear it again, I'm really proud of this dress because it's a little shred of evidence that I mastering this new skill. Only like, 9,876 hours to go.

In Which I hate On Rompers

It was the hottest summer on record in NYC, and I spent most of alternately sweating and complaining to anyone who would listen about how fugly and inappropriate it is for grown-ass women to be running around in rompers. My two-year-old looks adorable in rompers. She wears them often. That's how I know for a fact that rompers give you a wedgie unless you're wearing a diaper. Need to raise your hand to wave hello? Well, now you have camel toe, young lady. Also: going to a public bathroom. Do you really want to be topless while you pee? I saw a study once about how few of those doors actually lock...

This is all a digression to explain my surrender. Go ahead: squeeze yourself into that romper that gives you uni-boob, girl. I no longer judge you. I can't, because this week I created a pattern for and sewed a mini-dress modeled on one I made for my toddler earlier this year. Yes, that one, pictured at left. (Don't I look thrilled? I just love having my picture taken.)

I'm now taking my second patternmaking class at the Fashion Institute of Technology, home to Twizzler-thin hipsters who are the only beings apparently unaffected by climate change (how else to explain leather pants in 30 C heat? Seriously, Republicans should make these kids a talking point.) I feel like such a mom when I am there. Like: "Cute outfit, lady. My mom would love it, heh heh."

Aside from my anxiety regarding my own general uncoolness, I knew I'd love it. I learned so much even in the first semester. I can create slopers (the building blocks for all patterns) and can draft bodices, sleeves, collars, etc. (We move on to skirts/pants this semester). In short: I finally learned how geometry can be useful!

The original pattern for the toddler dress (pictured at right on my girl) is from Burdastyle.com, an amazing online resources for sewers. Not only can you download patterns there, you can also learn techniques from tutorials. I basically used the sloper I made for myself to extrapolate a mommy-sized dress pattern for myself. My next project is to learn how to post my own patterns there, so I can start sharing the stuff I make. (We finally got a new computer, so anything is possible now. That's the reason I stopped blogging here last winter: my laptop was so geriatric that it wouldn't function with modern websites like Blogger.com. That's more than six months with a computer so slow, I missed the dial-up connection of my university days.)

Anyway, I am back. I have 10 things on the go, and plan to post about all of them. Hopefully patterns one day too, for anyone who cares.

P.S. I swear on a stack of rompers that I will never, ever wear my dress on the same day as Lucy. That would just be too much.

It's a New Year

I've never really felt moved by the "New Year." It seems so arbitrary -- why does the "New Year" start in the middle of winter, when we have months of cold and snow left lying in wait? It would make more sense for the New Year to begin at the onset of spring, when change (and newness) is in the air. Or even in Fall, when the cycle of life/death enters a new stage and the new school year begins. But January? What gives?

Still, I am full of promise for 2010. The first half of 2009 was tough. The second half, much better. Many things happened for our family to give us hope that things will get even better in this new year. And though I'm as sleepless as I was when we rung in 2009, I have some hope that things will get better soon.

That's my one resolution: to have a full night's sleep this year. Preferably more than one in a row. I need to be able to concentrate in my pattern-making nightclass at FIT!

Christmas was super fun this year, though it was quiet (as quiet as any day with a 17-month-old can be). Lucy loved her elephant I knit (see left). We ate tourtiere (see below) and enjoyed lots of family time -- including a trip on NYC's Nostalgia Train, an old-timey subway from, I think, the 1930s, complete with hanging lightbulbs, low-hanging ceiling fans that could slice hairs off the head of anyone over 6-foot-4, plus vintage ads (text from one ad: "Hit him again, lady! We don't like door blockers either.").