Archive for June 2011
Attack of the monster hoodie.
When Lily asked me for a Monster Hoodie for her birthday
I had no idea what she was talking about.
I’m good like that.
So she showed me this site.
I looked around for a while at different types (and prices)
and then I wondered if I would be able to make my own monster hoodie.
I found an excellent tutorial
sourced some plain hooded jackets online
and began to plan a monster hoodie day.
It was very easy and when I showed off a photo of Lily in one of hers
I suddenly had lots of requests for me to either
make one
or
show them how I made them.
As I now have seventy bajillion orders in for monster hoodies,
I thought I would put a little tutorial up here too.
You know,
in case you are monster hoodie inclined
or your kids are.
Here’s how I did it.
You will need:
A hoodie.
Measuring tape.
A pair of scissors.
White felt.
Black felt.
Fabric glue.
Pegs.
A texta.
Possibly a second set of hands.
Turn your hoodie inside out and measure around the hood of the jacket.
I started measuring from where the cord came through
but there is no reason why you couldn’t go end to end.
Next I lay out my felt and measured the required length for the teeth,
so that it was the same as the length of the hood.
I ended up doubling the felt over for extra strength,
one layer seemed too flimsy for me
but one would be okay.
I drew some teeth about 3cm up from the end of the felt
and then cut them out.
Then I used fabric glue to stick them together.
I had two different types.
For me, the gummy one seemed to work better and faster.
After that, I stuck the teeth to the edge hood.
Not the very edge
just a little way in.
I tried leaving it on its own to dry
but without some kind of pressure the glue seemed to struggle adhering
so then I tried pegs, which worked great!
While the teeth were ‘setting’
I cut out the eyes.
I used a small IKEA cup as a template for the whites
and the bottom of the glue bottle for the black part.
When your teeth are stuck down,
turn your hoodie right side in.
You need to fold the hood forward and in half like this:
Centre your eyes
and then glue them down.
You need to be generous but not overly so with the glue
and the gum dries quite quickly
and sticks to hands
and fingers
and then noses if you have to scratch.
(note to self: don’t scratch anything when you have glue on your hands).
You’ll need to wait at least 24 hours before you can wash the jacket
but after that, you’ve got yourself a wearable monster!
I made four of them for around the price of one store bought one (plus postage).
I also had a bit of fun after the first one and deferred from the original tooth template
and added eyelashes on one
and made another into a sleepy fanged monster.
The question I know you are all dying to ask is
did she like them?
Well, lets see…
It was an overwhelming, hug me until I couldn’t breathe, yes
and when she found that I’d made them myself
she loved them even more,
boasted to her friends at school – thus the sudden influx of requests.
Well, that
and the fact that six other circus children suddenly, badly needed a monster hoodie too.
So that’s it.
Really easy.
Inexpensive.
Lots of fun.
Now you can go forth and create your own if you like.
Grrrrrr!
My favourite thing about having twins.
My favourite thing about having twins is this:
The bond.
The fact that when she is sick, tired or scared
she needs him.
That he shoulders her sadness after a long time in hospital.
That they are like yin and yang
but together the world seems more balanced, somehow.
Joining in Aussie Wordless Wednesday today.
Taken on the iphone. Late, very late at night.
The heart fixers.
“Tell me who sent me”, he says as he climbs onto the bed
and suddenly the little girl is there too, tucked up next to me
for they both love this story,
know it.
It has become an integral part of who they are.
“Well”, I start
noticing all at once
how long Noah’s legs have become,
how warm they both are
how Ivy’s hand has found its way into mine.
“It was your big brother who sent you”, I say and I feel a mixture of sadness and love wash over me.
“William” says Noah but not the way I pronounce it -
it comes out more like “Weel-yum”,
it rolls off his tongue easily,
comfortably
because it is a name he has known for as long as he can recall.
“Yes, William” I confirm.
“He called you over one day.
You were sitting in the clouds and he said to you -
see that Mummy down there?
She’s ours.
I need somebody very special to go down to earth and help to mend her broken heart.
In fact, she will need two of you to help.
She will be hard to put back together.
You see, I was sick and I couldn’t stay
and now she is sad…”
“There was a hole in your heart”, explains Noah.
“Your heart had pieces missing”, says Ivy.
I nod and snuggle them in closer to me.
Sage, they are.
Wise.
“Noah, you said to William: “I’m up for the job!”
and Ivy – you wanted to go too”.
“and I took my heart fixer tools, you know the ones, Mum. The special one, that looks like a wrench but when you wind it it comes right in” Noah adds on,
bringing his fingers together, pincer style.
“It fixes the very pointiest bit of your heart because, that was the most broken bit.
I put all of the bolts and the screws in and joined all the cracked parts together” he says, making a twisting screwdriver motion with his hand,
his eyes bright with visions of repair.
“What did I do?” asks the girl.
She wants to know her role in this story.
“Well, you smoothed everything out” I tell her.
“I put the band aids on too” she explains, bringing her hand softly to rest on the left side of my chest
and I squeeze them both as hard as I can.
I want them to feel how well my heart is healed.
“Yes, little love, you did.
You both helped.
You are my heart fixers”.
“Your heart fixers” Noah says, smiling proudly at his sister.
I can see the words rolling around in their minds,
settling somewhere in their happy space.
“We kind of like that”.
The school photo.
The school photos fall into my hands.
I know I should be pleased
seeing her there
amongst her classmates.
I know I should be thankful for the memories.
Instead I see that her feet can barely touch the ground
as she sits on the long silver bench
that she is by far (by almost two head lengths) the smallest.
I see her round face
amongst the defined jaw lines of the others,
including her brother.
She holds herself
like one who has shouldered too much.
Scrunched,
tight,
tense -
she looks
uncomfortable
in her shell (skin)
and her smile appears faint,
unsure
and not like the confident “smelly socks” grin of her peers.
Many things run through my head
like;
it’s a bad angle,
the straight on,
head and shoulders stance
of your standard school photo
and then
I am angry
that they didn’t at least try to flatter her features.
I can see,
maybe for the first time ever
why people stare
and why they point
and why they think she is different
and Oh!
I want to change that for her.
I want to fix it.
I want her to be the same as all of the other children.
I want her to be tall and willowy.
I want her legs to appear too long for her body
gangly almost,
as if there is still plenty of growing to do
and I want her eyes to be bright
with the joy of the newness of life.
I want that for her.
I want to make it better
and then
I just feel sad.
I try to tell myself
that this is temporary,
a stalling
in her journey.
I tell myself she is amazing
and beautiful
with a spirit as big as the sky.
I tell myself all of the things
that I would say to her,
should she come to me and ask (again)
why she looks like she does
and it works for a while
until she sits
and looks at the photo with me.
Just for a minute.
She is quiet
and then she asks
that I not put it up on top of the piano
where I proudly display
the portraits of the children
as each school year passes.
She asks me to hide it
and I know that this is not right
not right at all.