Steampunk!

What happened when Goths discovered the color brown?

Steampunk.

It’s a design and art style that asks the question:
If Jules Verne or H. G. Wells crash landed in your backyard, how would they redesign our modern technology to recreate it in their time?

Steampunk (also called Neo-Victorian) is a fun way of looking at the world, a world run by pistons and gears and moved by airships, jetpacks and clockwork devices. And a world that values individual craftsmanship and ingenuity over sleek plastic mass production.
For someone like me, it is a beautiful way to be creative and work with real materials on a very small budget.

My Halloween costume (and potentially a convention costume) is almost entirely from my own closet and the accessories have cost about $15 thus far to produce. Now to be fair, this cost does not include items already in my possession or left over from other projects. So for someone who doesn’t keep scrap leather for projects or have an enormous stash of old shoes hiding in the garage, making your own might cost a little more. I am planning on a couple of tutorials based on what I have put together so far. Here’s a picture of the main elements:

Want to make your own? I have tutorials for each of these pieces, and I'll start with the cuff bracelets . . . .

Cuff Tutorial

The cuff bracelets were made of an old belt (the metal work was part of its closure) a couple of mirror rosettes (from Depot)and some big economy buckles from a leather supplier (thrift store belts work well if you don’t care if things match).

First I removed all the hardware from the old belt (it had a tie closure so no holes or buckles). Then I cut the belt down to size for my wrists (plus a few inches overlap). Next I attached the buckles, and decided on the placement of the decorative pieces.

Then I riveted the metal work and rosettes onto the pieces of belt, and punched holes for the tongues of the buckles.

I achieved the multi-metal look by painting accents on the metal (and rivets) using metallic enamel paint (used for models and miniatures, sold in most craft stores) and playing with the shading until I liked the effect. Behold, my finished cuffs:

Next time . . . make your own Steampunk Goggle Tutorial!

What I've Learned This Summer

Having spent the last 6 weeks with my adorable, demanding, sweet, obnoxious, amazing, aggravating, too smart for my own good offspring (much of which included forced captivity due to lack of another set of hands) I have learned some interesting truths.


Truth #1: Nap time is awesome!
My girls (at almost 18mos) have finally reached the twice a day naps that any parent longs for. Now if I can just get them to stay down for more than 30mins . . . .


Truth #2: I miss my creative hobbies.
Hubby took Elroy to a Magic: The Gathering Tournament last Fri held at one of the relatively local card shops and called to ask if I wanted some die cast figures to paint. I enjoy painting (of molded figures, not on canvas) and find it to be a great stress relief, but with all the craziness of the last couple years I haven't had the opportunity for a very long time. That evening, after I finally got Bam-Bam and the girls to sleep, I made the time. And I could not believe how much being able to focus on one small detail oriented project that was only for me really helped me set aside some of the day's tension. I slept better that night than I had in weeks. As a mom I spend so much of my time (waking and sleeping) tuned in to my kids' needs that by the end of the day I rarely have the energy or mental capacity to take on something for myself. And many of the crafty projects I do tend to be geared for the use or comfort of the kids. It was nice to be able to do something purely for my own satisfaction. And having remembered how much I enjoyed it, I have since gotten some new paint so that I can take the time to enjoy it more often.


Truth #3: The Laundry Monster always wins.
Laundry is never ending. It takes 12 to 14 loads of laundry a week to keep things going around here, and lately I've only been able to manage 7 or 8. This means, that although everyone has some clean clothes, they may not always have all the requisite pieces of their wardrobe clean at once. Someone is always out (or 1 pair away) of underwear or socks, or pants. And always when I've just sat down for the first time since I got up and already have 2 greedy babies brawling on my lap and 1 crying at my feet. But I did find that white vinegar removes nasty deodorant build-up, and the cheap laundry additives work better than the high end alternatives. I love Soil Love, Cool Love, and KidsNPets!


Truth #4: Toddlers LOVE DVDs.
Hubby and I have an extensive DVD collection (somewhere in the 700 - 800 range). When we moved into our house we purchased a 4ft wide by 7ft tall shelving unit (purchased at Best Buy, designed by the same minds as Ikea) to hold them. As soon as the girls became mobile the bottom shelves were emptied and storage ottomans were placed in front to block access. Now they can climb . . . . Usually 3 to 4 times a day I hear the thud of DVD cases hit the floor and find them, at least one perched on tip toes atop one of the ottomans to reach the R rated movies 5 shelves up. And the other giggling cohorts sitting amidst the pile checking to see how many cases have discs in them. *sigh*


Truth #5: I don't do well with forced confinement.
Fri afternoon I took the kids to a local playground to meet up with my best friend since 3rd grade. On the way home (less than 100 ft from my driveway) my car started to overheat. Sat, Hubby decided around 2pm to get some more fluid for my car and when that drained right out within a few minutes took it to a local auto parts store. He called to break the news that a rather large crack had developed in the reservoir for the radiator and the dealer was the only source for that part, at 5:45pm on Saturday. As luck would have it, said dealer is the only one locally that doesn't open its service department on Sun. So Hubby takes Monday off to deal with my car and magically at 4:45pm the service dept calls me to let me know that the necessary part (which they had that morning, Hubby had called to check) was out of stock and they couldn't get to the car until the following day (Tues) when they got more in. By this point my internal monologue was rather frantically chanting "GOTTA GET OUT! GOTTA GET OUT!" with increasing volume and anxiety for the past day or 2. The tension was making me feel like I was vibrating out of my skin and making me fidget so badly I itched all over trying to suppress it. Mentioning my need for escape to my wonderful, supportive husband comforted me with the words: 'too bad' and 'just deal with it' before hopping in his car with the boys to hang out at his sister's. My car was finally ready at 3:30pm on Tues, but since hubby was working and my car seats and stroller were in my car, It didn't get picked up until almost 5. For the record, I was out of the house (with Bam-Bam in tow) by 6, and ran errands until I had to return so hubby could head off to work. But my skin isn't crawling anymore.


I discovered a few more, but I have to go remove the girls from the DVDs for the 4th time since I started this post, so they'll have to wait.

'Til then - Vixi

Fireworks

I grew up in the woods. I know there are many people who would assume that Southern California doesn't have any woods . . . but I assure you, it does. This means I am somewhat conflicted when it comes to fireworks. Living where 1 spark will set large chunks of your community ablaze can do that. Particularly when your dad is the Fire Captain for said community.

My husband has no such conflict. He grew up (maybe 20 miles but worlds away) in a subdivision where kids played with sparklers and every block had it's own fireworks display.

Needless to say this is an area where we don't always see eye to eye.

He thought it was cute that I held a sparkler for the first time at our first 4th of July together. He rolls his eyes when I forgo the 'privilege' of lighting the next fountain. And he shook his head when I was hesitant to hand our young son (Elroy, maybe 3 or 4 years old at the time) a lit sparkler even under supervision.

I know he really doesn't see what the big deal is. For him it's a right of passage. To be old enough to be trusted with setting up or lighting fireworks is a big deal in his family.

For me . . .well, for me 4th of July meant going to a large city sponsored show with my mom and siblings, worrying about my dad (who was on call at the fire station) and hoping that some firebug hadn't managed to set the mountain on fire so we could still get home.

So, tonight we'll grill and enjoy the warm night and the show with friends and family, and I'll quietly hope that when the man I love plays with fire, he won't get burned.

'Cause it's late . . .

I was going to tell you about getting run over by a motorized wheelchair at Disneyland a couple of weeks ago . . .

but it's late, and I should be sleeping.


The last 2 weeks have been . . . let's say . . . difficult.


The girls are all walking (and climbing) and once again teething (which means biting). Bam-Bam is still working on potty training. Elroy is home on summer break. Hubby's hours for his day job have changed (better or worse I don't know yet, we'll just have to see), and my help during the day is gone for the summer.


I should probably qualify that last statement. My mom has been helping me 6 days a week (when Hubby is working) since I was on bed rest during my pregnancy with the girls. This has been tremendously helpful as just getting into the store takes 2 carts and (it certainly feels like) a dozen sets of hands.


For the past year (give or take) my parents have been searching for a property to be their (for now) vacation house and (in the near future) their retirement property. They finally found one they love and were able to purchase it, but it needs a lot of t.l.c. . . . . So they are spending July (and already spent the latter half of June) at their new place making it into their place.


Which leaves me rather . . . trapped. I may need to mention that I have a low tolerance for cabin fever.


And, because I like a challange, the past 2 weeks have also included swim classes for the boys (Hubby is even in the pool with Bam-Bam). So there's an upper limit on how long I can take at anything during the day. But tomorrow is the last class and Hubby has Fridays off for the next month. Hopefully I can coerce I mean convince some of Hubby's family (who live less than a mile away) to come and give me a hand 1 or 2 days a week while my mom is gone. If not . . . maybe Hubby can watch the kids while I take the ever expanding laundry pile to the laundromat on Fridays, 'cause I can't seem to get caught up.


Laundry is kind of like sleep that way. . . . I really should be doing more of it.

Teething and Triplets

I can pretty much say that the only person who reads this is my best friend for almost 2 decades now, so I don't really have to worry too much about being too honest. The last six months have been rough. No, that's not the right term. Hellish. Yeah, that's it. It seems like life is conspiring to keep me from ever sleeping again. Right around the six month mark all 3 girls started teething. And I'm not talking one at a time, each girl has had at least 4 teeth cutting or sitting right below the skin waiting to cut constantly since around Thanksgiving. A has 7 teeth, with #8 (bottom eye tooth) waiting, B has 5 with #6 cutting, and C also has 5, again with #6 cutting. Now to make things more fun, right around the time this all started Highland's (the most well known teething tablet manufacturer) recalled all of its product because they didn't have child-proof caps. I have yet to see them back on the shelves. I did find an alternative . . . however it is only sold (at least in my neck of the woods) at Walgreen's. And I really don't shop there. Even better, child #2 (I think I'll lovingly refer to him as Bam-Bam) is potty training. And has been with limited success (until very recently) for the last 8 or 9 months. Around the time of my last post he spent a whole week wearing underwear and staying dry until his afternoon, let's call it . . . 'elimination' which would inevitably end up in said underwear . . . and smeared all over the bathroom. At that point I put him back in diapers for a little longer. Not to be left out, child #1 (I believe Elroy seems most appropriate) hung out with his (slightly) older cousin and came back a mini teenager. He's six! He was a sweet, helpful, considerate child when he left . . . but he came back a back-talking, entitled mouth on legs. To top things off Elroy and Bam-Bam have hit that age when territory starts to become important. Now that Bam-Bam has the vocabulary to assert himself more the games have become a bit less friendly. At this point I'm just glad they haven't taken to marking the furniture . . . . And through it all darling Hubby has remained steadfastly . . . planted in front of the computer. I HATE EQ. I loathe it. He plays using Ventrillo (so he can talk to other players through his headset mike), so I'm never entirely sure that his remark (or answer to my question) was actually meant for me. Don't misunderstand me. I feel that computer games are a fun and worthwhile hobby and enjoy getting to play some of the rpg style myself. But somebody has to watch the kids. The girls are mobil now, and the boys play so rough. I love him, with all my heart. And I can think of at least 3 occasions in the last week when that has been the only reason I haven't thrown something at him. *sigh* What a time to decide to start blogging right? And to think, all that was my long winded explaination of why I haven't posted for so long . . . . I'll try to be better. I can't guarantee it . . . but I'll try.

Craft Time: Adjustable Sun Hat

I have triplets. My babies are 6 months old now and it's summer here in So. Cal. This means glaring sun and triple digit temperatures from April until mid November, and retailers in their infinite wisdom don't make sun hats in infant sizes. So, after realizing that I don't have the patience or the time to make hats for my girls myself, I decided to adapt ones made in toddler sizes.

And if you're interested, I'll show you how . . . .

What you'll need:

• broad brimmed sun hat, with or without chin strap


• complementary ribbon (my preference is a grograin, but anything washable will work), no less than 5/8in wide and long enough to wrap around the hatband 2 times


• secondary ribbon (decorative only, enough to wrap 3/4 of the hatband, totaly optional)


• decorative buttons (count the seams in the crown of the hat if 4 use 4 buttons per hat, if 6 use 5 buttons)


• hand-sewing needle and all purpose thread (entire needle must fit through button holes)


• 5 or 6 straight pins (per hat), washable pen to mark center point (if desired)

First, find the front center point (hats with 6 top panels will have a center seam front and back). My hats have 4 sections but no front seam, so I lined up the 2 forward seams to find the mid point. I marked this with a vertical straight pin.

Now find the center point on the ribbon (line up ends and smooth) and carefully mark (washable pen on the underside) and attatch to the hatband with center pin. If you're going to add any other decorative ribbon repeat as needed.

Now, using the seams as guides lay out and center the ribbon over the hatband, pinning at each seam (if using a 6 seam stop 1 before the middle back seam to allow room for adjustment).

Sew on your buttons at the seam lines to hold the ribbon on securely, and using a single stitch, tack the ribbon down every inch or so between the buttons.

The hat will now adjust down to fit the average newborn all the way to toddler. Quick, easy and completely customizable, this project is only limited by your own creativity. Blue ribbons with sailboats or sports equipment could easily make a plain hat suitable for daddy's little boy, too.

Enjoy, and Happy Crafting!

A Simple Rant: Don't Pray for Me

I'm Agnostic.

While this covers a range of beliefs (most being that a higher power exists but is not worshiped, only recognized), my personal belief is that no organized religion, large or small, has it right. Too much is open to interpretation, and everyone views that wisdom through the veil of their own experiences and prejudices. But that is a discussion for another post . . . .

Since the birth of my triplets (well, since they came home from the NICU) everyone feels the need to comment. While most comments are along the lines of 'oh, they're adorable' and 'are they all girls?' ('cause the pink car seats and outfits are so gender neutral), the comments that bother me are the constant offers of prayer. Now let me be clear, I appreciate the thought and the desire to help that most people have and on the whole I'm very honored by their kindness.

The issue for me stems back to a conversation I had with my grandmother (a minister) earlier this week. She told me about one of her divinity students (training to become a minister in her church) who was given the assignment of praying for my babies on a daily basis. Then my grandmother shared how much her student had enjoyed seeing the newest pictures of the babies SHE was helping to take care of through her assigned daily prayer.

Well, that I don't appreciate. It is all well and good to wish the best for someone, but to take credit for my childrens' well being when you've never met them or me . . . that is insulting.

Prayer didn't find and move to correct the blood flow issue that almost killed 2 of my girls in utero. Prayer didn't catch the lack of growth in the smallest girl in time to deliver all 3 safely. Prayer didn't find the necrotizing cyst on my ovary that was days from rupturing. Doctors did. Prayer didn't keep my girls alive and growing in the NICU. Dedicated doctors, nurses and volunteers did. Prayer hasn't kept them healthy, growing and safe since they got home. I have. My husband and my mother have. Our friends and family have. We have done the feeding, changing, bathing, burping, holding, comforting, playing and everything else necessary to get these girls to where they are now.

So, if you feel entitled to credit for my childrens' health and well being, even though we've never met, on the grounds that you added them to your prayer list, it's time to re-evaluate why you're praying. My children should not be your ego boost.

And if they are . . . well, don't pray for us. Pray for yourself.