Dance designs, the easy part. I think.

Day 1 of dance costume prep involved packing supplies, lugging costume in garment bag and gemming at my mother-in-law's dining table as we visited. (I have no time to slack off!)

Red gems line the bottom all the way around the legs. A few sparkly clears are thrown on the front for a bit of shine when she moves. That's all this part needs. Her shirt will cover the top of the shorts and her vest will be heavily decorated. Keeping it simple, right?

Ooooo. Simple but sparkly.

Okay, so I started with the easy piece. Hey, why not? I'm using a heat gun I've never used before and types of gems I've never touched. I'm no expert. As I quickly demonstrated with my first application of heat tool to gem to fabric:

Oopsies. Did I do that?

Yeah. Not so good. Apparently it can get so hot it melts right through the fabric. Lesson learned- I didn't do it again. But I do have a very attractive piece of cardboard now. Don't believe me? Take a look:

See the line of black around it? That used to be fabric. Did you know melted fabric makes for a REALLY strong glue? My cardboard does. Really, really, really strong glue.

I guess I need to learn the fine line between getting the gem good and set and setting the pants on fire good. I may go back to glue with the shirt. Who knows what I might do with that thin fabric! Vest tomorrow. Several evenings work await me on that. Wish me luck. Think I'm gonna need it.

The End MUST Be Near!

The End of The World MUST be coming. That's the only thing that can explain why, after picking my husband up from work today, we journeyed on over to a local gym... and JOINED!

Our home gym sits folded in the coat closet. Our treadmill stands folded in the living area, now the choice of perches for our cat. Hand weights and yoga mats collect dust. Workout dvds idle on our shelves. Our rears sit glued to the couch rather than propelling us around the neighborhood for an evening walk. Now that we have joined a gym, you folks had best start collecting your canned goods and digging your fallout shelters because the end is imminent!

Gyms intimidate the heck out of me. All those machines I don't know how to use. The place full of already fit women and men. The intensity of people who know what they are there for and take it so, so seriously. My eyes glaze over, my brain loses about 50 IQ points as I try to determine what each piece of equipment does and my out of shape self suddenly looks even dumpier and frumpier and out of shape to my eyes.

But seriously.... If I'm paying a fee every month for 12 months under contract, this cheap person will darn well get every bit of use out of it she can. It's too easy to look at the exercise equipment at home and say "I'll get to it later"  but when I need to schedule the gym around a very crazy life, I'll start thinking of that as my get away time. A few nights a week we'll leave the kids to fend for themselves for an hour or two after dinner and make good our escape. We'll enjoy a little couple time on the treadmills. Maybe I'll tackle a virtual spinning class. I'll work through my aches and pains with some virtual yoga. Vin and I will be working to improve our health together, to look better together and to share some alone time together.

Not such a bad idea after all. But just in case, stock up on bottled water.

Sunday Gravy, A Family Tradition

My husband does the cooking in this household. It’s just healthier for everyone. Trust me!

 I am capable of only the simplest meals. Vin is a phenomenal cook capable of creating complex meals in the time it takes me to cut up a chicken breast.  Oh yes, I much prefer eating what he dishes out than standing over the stove making a huge mess.

Lately our lives were turned upside down by a series of events and our meal and family time flew out the window. Dinner consisted of food picked up fast on the way home each night after 8pm. Unhealthy, disgusting, boring and expensive as heck. In defense, Vin reinstated a tradition we once followed, one passed down to him by his grandmother, and a tradition familiar to anyone who had a true Italian grandmother in their background. Sunday Gravy.

Early on Sunday, Vin starts cooking up a big pot of Sunday Gravy, also known as sauce. He processes the tomatoes, seasons, simmers, does everything from scratch. The house starts to fill up with the warm scent of goodness waiting to hit our plates. He mixes meats and molds meatballs, he makes bracciole or cuts small pieces of veal or beef steaks to cook in the sauce.  Sunday is all about magic in the kitchen.

When we sit down for an early Sunday meal, everyone must be at the table. There is no eating in the living room in front of the television on this day. The kids’ eyes grow large and you can almost see them drool as the pasta, sauce and meat are brought to the table.

Sunday dinners are a wonderful time. A peaceful time for family, and maybe someday a few friends. It’s a break in a hectic lifestyle and a chance to reconnect. As I stared out across our small kitchen table yesterday evening, I reflected how much like life the setting really was. People coming together over mismatched bowls and platters, mismatched events, mismatched circumstances. People finding joy in simple things, forgetting the need for perfection. Breaking bread, sopping up life’s goodness. People sharing love over the simplest of common ground- a good meal.

I love our Sunday tradition and I look forward to continuing it for a very long time.  

Sunday Gravy- snapshot taken from video by Vincent James Pia, cooked by Vincent James Pia, enjoyed by the Pia clan

It's that time of year again!

No, no. Not the holidays!

It's dance competition season. The time when even normally sane (I do use that term loosely) mothers start turning into raving lunatics as they pull out the glue guns and heat tools, the Swarovski crystals, the fabrics, the thread and needle and soon their hair... all in the quest to ensure their little girls just sparkle out there in front of the judges.

Sound like a nightmare a la Toddlers and Tiaras? It can be and let me tell you- those folks are freaky! The moms and teachers who give you the cold shoulder because you don't have the latest and greatest in equipment or look down their noses and get outright rude because you don't fit in their little clique. The dirty looks you get because you actually have to (god forbid!) work instead of being at the studio at 3pm each day. The girls who burst into inconsolable tears when they miss one step.... And please, do NOT forget some of the most hideous costuming and hair styles ever created. Oh yes, there is some crazy drama going on out there.

Generally though, dance competitions aren't all that bad. My daughter is a complete devotee to the art of dance and the chance to show off. I happen to think she is quite talented too. She has danced with the same group of girls for years and they have developed a loving and supportive friendship at a time in life when many girls are falling to pieces. Her grades are high, she's exercising instead of sitting on the couch, and she has such confidence (even when looking like a tin soldier or wearing a cup of cocoa on her head).

                     

Dance is what she lives and breathes and it's the career path she wants to follow as of now. The competitions are a time when all that hard work is given the opportunity to be recognized by people outside their usual sphere. Some cool trophies and the chance at scholarship money never hurts either.

So, as she expands into the realm of solos and fancier costuming I need to become the mother and woman I have never been- I need to get with the frilly and feminine program. I have to get with the sparkle thing. And because I love her to death and want to support her dreams but think shelling out anywhere from $50-200 on a fancy dolled up costume is ridiculous... I am learning how to sew and gem.

Last year's lyric solo costume was an e-bay find for less than $20. I spent hours with gems and glue and shaky, inexperienced hands to make a great base into something that would shine on stage. It wasn't the best but I was so proud of myself.

This year I need to do even better and do it with two costumes. Here are my bases. Excuse the awful photo quality. 

Lyric costume- I Know Where I've Been from Hairspray

Jazz costume- Some People from Gypsy

I've been planning the jazz design since yesterday and have started the gemming tonight. I haven't even started the lyric but I know it involves sewing the waist tighter, sewing the overdress to the tank top underneath and a whole heck of a lot of sparkle work. I have 25 days. I'm armed with crystals, heat tools, gems, needles and thread and my good old shaky, achy hands. Cue the hair pulling!

Cold Saturday Morning

I am sitting here at my computer, sluggish, uninterested in everything. I am attempting to stir myself into action so I can feel something other than gray. A sense of accomplishment would be nice as would a sense of peace or joy or even just contentment. I'd take any of these. Instead I just sit here.

It's been a very long week. I am very stressed out and work has been beyond hectic. I feel like I'm just barely keeping my head above water. Vin was very sick for most of the time and I was worried about him and worried that the kids would get it. I would rush home after work, try to throw together some sort of dinner and then crash, exhausted. So around me, the house has deteriorated and now looks like it was ransacked and the thief decided to eat our food and leave the dishes too.

This weekend I NEED to get this house clean, and get the animals' homes freshened and start selling stuff online and log on to catch up on work. I need to get some decent coffee in the house. I need to prep clothes and school stuff for the week ahead. I WANT to write because we are a full week into January and I haven't even started when I had promised myself I would do some every day. I want to go to the library and trade in the pile of stuff here for a new pile of stuff. I want to read and pamper myself and just give myself the break I deserve. I want to not feel guilty for taking care of me and I want the family to want me to do it even if it means they don't get my focus.

But I still sit here in front of the computer trying to make any sort of a move. I have a nasty headache and feel the irritability that usually marks a swing from depressed to manic or the reverse. Since I'd say I am currently depressed, I am almost hoping I am right and the mania begins. Because then I usually manage to accomplish something (strange- all the trouble it caused me when I was younger as I self-destructed in tune with my flying thoughts... now when redirected at household maintenance it's a benefit? Well, except for the nasty anger I feel bubbling up at times and can't always contain. Yes, I become snarky as hell.) Even so, I am currently in a no-man's land of inertia and discontent.

Of all the obstacles that fall in my path and all the ones I put there myself, I think it's this feeling that is the worst and most difficult to overcome. So here I sit.