Up until Brad nearly lost his marbles recently, and insisted on a new bedtime story to read to Grace, Grace was usually very quick to pick one of her many "Pigeon" books for daddy to read to her every night.  Each and every single night!

The Pigeon book series is a fantastic collection of books written and illustrated by Mo Willems.  The Pigeon, and his friend Duckling, often find themselves in a bit of a power struggle... over things like driving a bus, eating a hot dog, or staying up late!  You know, every day Pigeon & Duckling argument stuff!



In the case of "Don't Let The Pigeon Drive The Bus", the bus driver says very clearly on the first page of the book "Whatever you do, DON'T LET THE PIGEON DRIVE THE BUS".  Then, on the next page, the Pigeon looks directly into the reader's eyes and says "Can I drive the bus?"  While most children would answer "NO" (just like the bus driver told them to) Grace usually didn't follow orders so well and was eager to give the Pigeon all the bus-driving freedom in the world.  She would shout out "Sure, Ok!" when the Pigeon pleaded his case.



Being that we were reading the Pigeon books every night, and Grace had mastered his bus-driving pleas, we thought it would be a great halloween costume for her.  We also thought (back then, when apparently I didn't have anything else going on in my life) that Hazel could be the Duckling, Lincoln could be the Hot Dog, and maybe Brad could be the Bus Driver.

Anyway, seeing as how I only had about 42 projects on my plate, was learning Spanish at night, and was trying to be super human, I decided to buy a new sewing machine, take sewing lessons, learn how to sew, and MAKE the above-mentioned costumes.

So, I bought a new amazing sewing machine.  I took lessons from the amazing Sherri at AAA Sewing & Vacuum in San Mateo (free sewing machine lessons for life if you buy a sewing machine from them) and 6 weeks + many trips to Joann Fabric later, I finished my first ever costume.

My eyes were much bigger than my stomach, and the Hot Dog, Duckling and Bus Driver are all going to have to fend for themselves tomorrow night — but Grace debuted her Pigeon costume at the Preschool Halloween party last night and it was a big hit.  It would have probably been a bigger hit had the hat not been such of an issue (read: if Grace would have kept the hat on for more than 3 seconds!) but I'm very proud of my accomplishment and am sharing it with all of you as a pseudo 'pat on the back' to myself!

MY HOW TO

I started with a toddler duck costume that I found online, for really cheap.  I laid out the duck costume onto my own fleece fabric and traced it; making my own pattern pieces.  I then sewed, ripped apart and re-sewed all the pieces together.  A few times!  I had to make the Pigeon 'tail' removable, so that Grace could sit down if she wanted, so I made a separate triangle pillow, stuffed it, sewed it shut, and then sewed velcro on it so that it could attach easily to the rear of the body.

Truthfully, the costume really only looks good in profile, but I'm gonna just be proud that I finished something that actually resembled the Pigeon and that didn't disintegrate within 5 minutes of wearing it!

Here is a feast for your eyes (and if you don't have this story for your kids, run out to get it - it's a really fantastic read!)

The Pigeon costume components in all their glory!

The Pigeon head/hat

It turned out that 2 little pieces of velcro wasn't enough to hold on the tail at first, so a last minute addition of a long strip of velcro, along the entire width of the tail, was necessary!

Grace modeling her costume at preschool, before the party.

Grace realizing her tail was 'removable' (aka: the first of approximately 108 times that she removed her tail during the course of the night!)

The Pigeon shakes her booty!

Yep, it's still there!

Happy Pigeon!

A very TIRED pigeon, towards the end of the night!

Well, somehow instead of putting the finishing touches on my logo presentation due tomorrow morning, I got sucked into my {oh so poorly designed} blog tonight.

You know how when you spend a ton of money on the most beautiful, high-thread count bed linens in the world, that you are just 'that' much more excited to get into bed at the end of each night?  Well, I felt as though my previous blog design was equivalent to 3-thread count sheets that had been washed with bleach and ammonia one hundred times.  The kind of sheets that look clean (too clean!) and that feel as scratchy as 1-ply toilet paper... you know the ones I'm talking about... like the ones in the hospital!

Anyway, I just couldn't bring myself to want to write more blog posts, and more frequently, unless my blog got a bit of a facelift.

So, with a little help from my IT guy (aka husband) along with some Starbucks instant Via coffee, I think I can safely say that this blog no longer has hospital corners... and I hope that my high-thread count design makes you feel as happy reading my thoughts, as I am writing them.

On that note... time to pull the covers up over the day and recharge for tomorrow.  (Well, almost... first I suppose I'd better finish that presentation that's due in 10 hours!)

Out with the old... and in with the new. In more ways than one!

Rest in peace my sweet, first blog design. You may not have been on  this planet for long, but you made an impression on everyone around you. You may not be missed, but you will be remembered fondly.

Well, the time has come to put away my "going out clothes" (the ones I used to wear before the baby, the ones that I almost got back into after the baby, but then got pregnant again and now, not so much!)

I'm 35,000 feet up, on a plane (with wi-fi), somewhere over Ohio (or maybe Pennsylvania by the time I finish writing this).  I'm headed for New York City, and the National Stationery Show (ooooh, ahhhhh... paper-lovers unite!)

I have wanted to go to this show for as long as I can remember; it is the end-all, be-all place for creative, paper-loving, invitation/stationery makers/sellers/distributors to show their wares. 

As a kid, there were really only 2 things I loved like crazy; paper and candy.  They are both sweet, and leave me wanting more.  And this week I am going to be like a kid in the paper-candy store!

Packing for this trip was harder than any other because I want to look professional but crafty.  Experienced yet vulnerable.  Hip but sweet.  I am a California girl hitting up New York City... this is a no flip-flop kind of town.  I am going for three days and I would be a liar if I didn't fess up about the 2nd pair of cowboy boots that I shoved in my carry-on, on the way out of the house, after Brad assured me that the 8 pairs of shoes that I had already packed were enough, and that my bag was guaranteed to be over the 50lb limit.  But it doesn't matter... I'll pay extra luggage fees in order to have the "choice" of what to wear when I walk into the convention center tomorrow morning.  It'll be mecca.  It'll be grand.  It'll be like the best buffet in the world.

And here's the thing about buffets... if you have patience (which clearly you all know I don't) you know that the best way to do a buffet is to do a "lap" around the food and figure out who's got what, and where, and plan your "attack" wisely so you don't fill up on the lame food and then find the most delicious food at the end, on your 4th plate, when there's no room left.  This show is going to be the same way.  I will try to practice restraint and exercise my will power, doing a lap around the convention center first, but this is surely going to be a challenge.  There will be sweet, colorful booths calling my name from every direction... stationery designers, wrapping paper producers, manufacturers of paper and related products...  I might have to just nibble.  {Everybody knows that there are no calories in food that you eat while standing up!}

However, there might be another lesson I could use to get through this... I will use another food reference if you don't mind; that of "fine dining".  Do you know what they do in fine dining restaurants?  They offer a "palate cleanse" in between courses to help you separate the dishes - and prepare your palate for what's to come.  It's like a reset button.  And I think I know JUST what to do when I get overloaded and my head's about to explode with pattern and prints...  Hello, Bergdorf's!!!

I have been a very bad girl as of late.

I am usually a good girl, but not in recent months.  Not, say, since March 10th of this year.

I am not a quiet or shy girl.  I'm not the girl who is afraid to speak her mind.  I am definitely not the girl who thinks before she speaks.  And with 1000% certainty, I am not a girl who has only a few small opinions.  Quite the contrary as a matter of fact!

But since my last blog post I have become a girl who censors herself, and questions herself.  Not about graphic design.  Not about gorgeous wedding invitations.  Not even about being a mom.  About blogging.

I seem to be a girl who is a little perplexed in the blogging department and can't find my way out of this hole.  My blog is like a blank white canvas with no marks on it... too perfect, shiny and pristine to "attack" and "dirty".

When I was at the Art Institute of Chicago in 1994 I had a painting teacher named Yee Jan Bao.  Yee Jan played the role of painting teacher/philosopher and we, as freshman students, ate it all up!  With each class we learned about new painting tips and techniques, new materials, new methods, all the while listening to his sage-like philosophies on painting and life.  During my class with him, he said something to me that I have never forgotten.  I may be paraphrasing here but it went something like this: "Never paint things you love.  Always paint things that you don't like because then it will never get precious and you will never feel scared to make marks.  That's why I love to paint bugs.  I hate bugs"

I need a bug.  A big one.  And I need someone to squish it on my blog and make a mess!

When I started my blog, I was pretty sure that I would be able to fill page after page with design-related content.  I wanted to be a cool, hip design blog about projects, thoughts and the like.  I didn't want to write every day, but I wanted to write when the feeling hit, when the iron was hot, and tell the world about what I saw and what I did and what I was thinking.  But the whole time I told myself it had to be about design.

Well, design isn't the only thing in my life - it's only one little bit of who I am.  I am a mom.  I am a wife.  I am a girl who used to leave dishes in the sink but doesn't anymore.  I am a girl who had to have 2 screwdrivers on the plane today because my husband wasn't with me to hold my hand.  I am lots of things and apparently I compartmentalize all of these things and don't let the different colors touch each other on the plate.  Yee Jan would be very upset!

Every time I think of writing something, I hear myself saying it's not "design-y" enough, or it's "too" mom-focused, or maybe it'll just sound like I'm patting myself on the back for a job well done.  This is hard for me because I want to be as good at this blog as I am at designing invitations (yes, I just patted myself on the back, but I'm sure you'll all indulge me this once!) but the lines are blurry and I like things all neat and tidy.

So, moving forward, I will try to write more and censor less.  I will try to "make marks" (or "press keys") and see what happens.

I'm a designer. And I'm a mom. But it happened in that order.

As my office is in the back of the house, it's inevitable that sometimes my projects (and my mess) leave the confines of the 13 Creative headquarters and try to make a beeline for the door. In fact, they tend to creep and crawl their way into the bedroom, the living room, the tv room, the kitchen, and sometimes the dining room. Well, to be clear, it used to be the dining room. It is now what we affectionately refer to as the playroom.

In it's glory days this "dining room" used to be the room where we entertained, where we drank wine, where we felt like "adults" (because "adults" don't sit on the couch and eat dinner off of plates on their laps!). Now, this beloved mark of adulthood and "finery" has pink and brown cushion-like tiles all over the floor and is littered with toys, books, dolls, and really insanely noisy, battery operated, objects made out of fluorescent green plastic, which if weren't magically able to quiet a crying child within seconds, would be chucked out the door faster than you can say "Helvetica!"

But I digress. This dining room cum playroom still has a table in it though - the only really "good one" in the house that isn't already covered in my "mess". And I use the word "mess" lightly because what is mess to others (aka: husband) is clear, organized and perfectly logical to me.

So, this table is my out-of-the-office sanctuary for cutting, assembling, producing, gluing and the all-time favorite, corner punching!
In the days pre Grace, this table would sit in the middle of the room, covered with the tools of my trade - papers, rulers, rhinestones, scraps, glue and of course the all mighty x-acto knife. My projects would go on for days in some cases, during the hefty production of a lavish wedding invitation or packaging mockups for a soon-to-be printed product. Brad and I would fight about "mess" and he would insist that my project got cleaned up each night and put away somehow. He would spend the night strategizing on different solutions for designer-moms to use so that each night projects could be placed out of the way and brought back to life in the morning without much hassle. I refused each and every brilliant suggestion however, offering up the "creative process" as a good enough reason to keep "mess" exactly where it was. Then I would ply him with wine and make him forget about our little argument!

Now, in the days post Grace, the table is still covered with the same tools although we have more arguments than I can count about sharp tools on the table. No amount of wine will make him forget - and boy have I tried! My how things change! I guess old habits die hard because no matter how much I love Grace, and desperately want for her to be safe at all times, I have the hardest damn time committing to removing my x-acto blades from the table each night!!

At Art Center the teachers drill it into your head that a dull x-acto blade is more dangerous than a sharp one - and so my collection of tiny little blades, which get changed out every 15mins or so during a project, sit stacked next to my work, waiting inline for their tour of duty. At the end of my day when I go from creative genius, goddess, guru (call me what you see fit!) to "mommy" I can't find the part of my brain that wants to clean off the table and remove all blades of glory before fixing supper or changing a diaper.

*Note: Just so no one thinks they need to call Child Protective Services on me... there are NO x-acto blades on the table. I do see Brad's point of view - I'm just reluctant to admit that he's right!

I guess this is all part of being a designing mom. I struggle with the balance from a mental point of view, but had no idea I was in for a struggle in this realm! I am guessing that one day when I feel more "mommy" than "designer" this won't be an argument, or struggle at all but until Grace can say "mommy" I think that day is a bit far off.


Helpful Tip: One of Brad's suggestions during the quest for the ultimate solution on "mess containment" was to use large, flat boxes (pizza boxes would be perfect) to store each project in. At night, all the project components would get put into the box (large enough for rulers, oversize sheets of paper, etc.) and would get stacked away neatly, on top of all the other project boxes. I really do think this is a genius idea - thanks Brad - but knowing me, I wouldn't be happy with just "any" pizza box and I certainly don't have time to start designing a line of designer pizza boxes for use as project organizers. Guess it'll just have to live on the to-do list for a little while longer!

So, if I were asked to write 25 things about myself (no one has asked me yet, by the way!) then I'd probably spend a few moments talking about how I like to "know things".  Oh, and that sometimes I'm sorta, kinda, extremely evangelical about those things that I know.  I might even call myself a "knowy knowerson" if prompted.  My therapist deduced that my "need to know" goes back to the root of my feeling secure about the world, but we don't have to get that deep in this blog post!