Almost Perfect Ordinary Day

Today we had an Almost Perfect Ordinary Day. One might think that an Almost Perfect Ordinary Day comes every week or so. But sadly, no. I think it's more like once every three months.

I spent the day being thankful for each successive successful moment. Breakfast, school, lunch, nap, laundry, playing outside, grocery shopping, dinner, bedtime. I promised myself that I would at least acknowledge here that we had one; especially since I'm quicker to record the messy moments.

The last two months have been rough around here. We've been lucky to do lots of fun stuff and spend a lot of time visiting relatives. But disruption to the normal schedule is always stressful and it feels good - so good - to be looking at a more or less unscheduled calendar for a few months.

How to form letters

We went to Rhode Island, to visit my family. Fritz went to sunny San Diego, which, it turns out, is not as sunny as Denver, but more like 'hazy.'

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Poor Fritz. Perhaps scuba-diving will make up for missing Denver's sun and Rhode Island's indoor sand sculpture at the Garden Show.

In Rhode Island, Noah got a healthy dose of time with grandma, a reading specialist. His week was filled with letters and sounds and books and words.

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I asked my mother for a little bit of help in telling Noah how to write his letters. For example, what can I say to help Noah make letters when he asks, "Mommy, how do I make a 'g'?"

tropria = airport  (This is a map.)

Now, OF COURSE, I can draw 'g' in the air with my hand or come over and help him. But sometimes my hands are full or busy or occupied, so I wanted verbal cues. She gave me her list of 'verbal pathways' and I posted them over here, along with some additional information that she gave me.

Maybe you'll find it helpful, too.

So..ing

So, an apology. Because I actually find it rather tedious to read detailed posts about craft projects. Unless they're funny. This post is not funny. But. I am doing a lot of crafty projects lately. I don't seem to be able to carve out the mental space I need to write about More Important Things, like how I dislike the phrase 'helicopter parent.' So:

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This week, I'm busy sewing pants for myself. I forgot I can sew. I used to sew clothes for my My Little Ponies:

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What? You didn't sew clothes for purple and pink plastic ponies?

After attaining that specific and useful skill, I think it's rather legitimate that I forgot I can sew.

Inspired by my favorite pair of pants, that date back to 1999(!), I hauled out my sewing machine and started to work on Monday.

First, I sewed a trial pair of pants. Just to make sure I could do it. They were too small. Ah-hem.

Then, I adjusted the pattern, and sewed a real pair. They are still a little too big, even though I tore them apart and re-stiched them once to make them smaller. I tend to like my clothes "relaxed," so I'll still wear them.

(Here is where I COULD insert a photo of the myself in the pants, but then: 1) I would feel obliged to take a flattering photo of the myself looking thinner than I do in real life wearing the pants and 2) you would feel obliged to tell me that they look good and 3) let's just skip all that formality, right? and 4) I didn't sew them to impress anybody but rather 5)  I just wanted a pair of pants that fit AND 6) too-many-photos-of-me on this blog makes me feel marketed which is 7) something I'd like to avoid.)

I made them with this discounted, moss-colored wool, and lined them with magenta silk. Why? Just because I could. And the price was right.

Also, there's something marvelous about having a surprising, secret, bright colored lining in clothes.

Tomorrow, I'm going back to the fabric outlet to get more fabric.