the perils of pattern-cutting

i had surprisingly few things on my to-do list today (because i went hard yesterday & got a ton of stuff done), so i decided to spend ramona’s nap cutting out patterns. i have a gargantuan list of things i want to sew, but most of them were patterns that needed small alterations, PDFs i hadn’t even printed out yet (let alone taped together), etc. as is so often the case with everything related to sewing, this whole project wound up taking literally like fifty times longer than i expected.

i had grand plans to print out & tape together all my unprinted PDFs, cut out all my patterns, grading or making necessary alterations as needed, & pair each pattern with the fabric i plan to make it up in, along with any notions i already have on hand. then i can go back through & make a note of any other notions or supplies i need, since the big box (ie, cheap) fabric store is out on the edge of town & i don’t get there very often.

sounds like such a genius idea! but by the time two hours had passed, i only had about six patterns done. & two of them were actually based on the same pattern & actually almost entirely constructed, & two only had two pattern pieces (one of which was already cut out)…so basically i got two patterns cut out in two hours. & then ramona woke up.

i worked on printing out PDFs while ramona drove me to the very edge of sanity. back before she could walk, she was really into climbing & would constantly climb on to the table. somehow we developed a hypothesis about how maybe she wouldn’t climb on to the table so much if she had her own baby-sized table to enjoy. we got a decent discount on a floor model table at the fancy hippie baby store downtown. the table top is removeable & has storage underneath, & one side is a chalkboard. it comes with two little kid-sized benches.

even though ramona is the king kong of the toddler world (she TOWERS over her baby friends, to the point that i sometimes wonder if we should get her pituitary checked, but then i remember that people pushing seven feet tall are fairly prevalent in her family history), these benches constantly defeat her.

so. first she was crying because i was printing out PDFs & wouldn’t let her take the paper out of the printer. then she cried because she wanted crayons (which i keep in my desk drawer, & thankfully, she hasn’t yet learned how to open the drawer herself). then she cried because she couldn’t figure out how to get on to the bench while holding crayons in both hands. then she cried because her paper fell off the table. so i’m racing around printing out these PDFs & being like, “seriously? a four-inch square test square is wholly unnecessary,” & being surprised to discover that a lot of our printer paper is in really bad shape, & constantly running interference on these ridiculous baby problems of ramona’s. like, dude. just stand up & pick the paper up yourself. it’s not like you lost your legs in ‘nam.

when jared came home, he allowed ramona to persuade him to take her on a bike ride, so i got a little more done. i traced off a couple of bra patterns because i finally, FINALLY, pulled the trigger on some fabric & findings last night. & then i felt really anxious about it, even though all in all, buying stuff to sew my own bras costs less than actually buying a decent (ie, non-target, which seems to vanity size their bras, by which i mean a 40D could maybe fit a 32B, but it crushes my rib cage & makes me die) RTW bras. i started cutting out some dress patterns, until i realized i had to grade the bodices & i just didn’t have the patience for it. ditto a jacket.

but i have a few things ready to hit the sewing machine. not sure i’ll get to any of it this weekend because saturday is jared’s birthday & he’s talking a big game about going to olathe (to the “great mall of the great plains” — someone thinks a lot of themselves) to play cosmic mini-golf. we would prefer normal mini-golf, but apparently that’s not an option. & it would probably also be nice to make him a cake & maybe watch a movie or something. it’s that special three months & one week per year when we are the same age, & then i have a birthday & we go back to our mrs. robinson-esque age dynamic.

Published by Ciara

Ciara Xyerra wrote zines for the better part of two decades. She has a brilliant & adorable preschooler named Ramona & sews as much as she possibly can. She lives in Lawrence, Kansas with her boyfriend. She enjoys catching up on "The New Yorker", meatball subs, keeping it cranky, intersectional post-third wave feminism, dinosaurs, & monsters. If you have nothing nice to say, she recommends that you come sit here by her, so you can say not-nice things together.

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