Side bar on the home selling front: HOLY F BALLS. Our appraisal came back short – way short. Turns out our appraiser was from two hours away and totally blew it with the comps, comparing us to houses in a totally different area. The buyers are fighting it and may switch banks if the appraiser can’t get his head out of his ass. For now, we are just sitting at the kids’ table just waiting for the grownups to sort all this out.
In more delightful news….
Sewing Machine Fest 2012 is just wrapping up. Alice is wearing my Christmas dress from when I was a wee babe. Sure, that was 1982, but unless you haven’t heard, the eighties are back, baby!
When I made Finn’s baptism outfit three years ago, I was just starting to figure out how to sew and (true to form) had made two shirts since the first one was WAY too big. I had an extra white linen shirt just collecting dust in the basement. When I could not find a plain white blouse anywhere for Alice to wear underneath the dress, my mind went to the little extra shirt in the basement. Only problem is the shirt is totally for a little boy. I did a tiny bit of reconstruction…
I rounded the corners of the collar and pleated the sleeves – not in the way anyone worth their salt would EVER do, but it is still just a tiny bit girlier. She only has to wear it once, anyway. And it is UNDER a dress. She’s so darn cute that nobody will be looking at her dorkily pleated sleeves, anyway.
Yes, I know it isn’t ironed. Ironing is not my strong suit; I’m not going to win the Iron
Chef Award anytime soon. Really, I have accepted that. But… I am expecting a nomination for Best Use of Non-Ironing in a Mom Blog come award season. I’ll keep you posted of any developments.
Just in case you wanted to peer into the rest of my life, this is what Monday brought me. Anyone who has ever had (or ever been) a kid knows that once the spaghetti pot makes its way into the bedroom, the carpet/sheets/pillows and/or jammies are already in the washing machine. If I EVEN get the flu (or worse, if Alice gets it) when the movers are here, I’m gonna be seriously P.O.-ed.