fantopia—a combination of fantasy and utopia. I just made that word up. I think. Until I google it, and learn that it’s already been made up. So I won’t burst my bubble.
I live in a fantopia. A fantasy utopian world in my own head.
In this world, I imagine myself fit and fabulous. My garden bursts with abundant color. My home shines with freshly polished floors. The internet connection zips and zooms. Laughter fills the house. Babies don’t poop up their backs. Everything is simple and easy.
Maybe it’s not your fantopia, but it’s mine. I live it.
Case in point. Have you seen a pettiromper? Unless your a new mom to a lovely little girl, maybe you haven’t.
Here’s a picture I stole off the internet.
Cute, adorable, and about $35.
Step into my fantopia, where I say to myself, “I can make this. I can sew. I’ve sewed curtains. And buttons. How hard can it be?”
Well for starters, it can be very hard. First off, I can’t find this lacy material anywhere, (but I only looked one place), so I settled for the next best thing.
A ruffled material that I see old ladies (my mother for one) wearing on their shirts these days.
So I buy it. And I buy some matching thread. Now I’m in business. I can whip this out in no time. I googled a little tutorial about how to make a romper, and feeling like the overachieving mom of the year, I commit to the task, right after I dust off the sewing machine, make J-Dub mess with it since the pedal won’t work, figure out how to thread the darn thing, and attempt at making a bobbin that ended up being a tangled mess so I just used a different colored one that was already ready to use.
It turns out, the ruffly material is hard to feed through the (Pardon my lack of technical terms here) foot feeder. It also turns out that the ruffly material doesn’t look so good when you sew the ruffles up when the ruffles are supposed to lay downward. But I persevered, just me and my seam ripper.
It began coming together. I was so excited. I had to hold myself back from waking my baby girl from her nap to try it on her when it was finally finished two days later. I even whipped up a headband.
I put it on her and let’s just say, I need a wee bit more practice. The elastic wasn’t short enough (tight enough) and it wouldn’t stay up above her tee tas.
So out came the handy safety pin because I just had to get a picture to show my loyal blog readers.
Which created the four hundredth problem of the project since my baby can’t exactly sit up by herself yet.
So here we are trying to take a picture, me needing to be farther back to get a better focus and shot, but at the same time needing to be in arm’s length to catch her when she topples.
So after 3 bumps, a poke from the safety pin, and a dislocated shoulder on my part finally, I just propped her on my dirty, dingy, denim couch and snapped a picture. Just kidding on all that. We came out unscathed.
Will I try again? Maybe.
Is my baby an absolute doll regardless of the get-up I dress her in? Completely.
Did I rock the headband? I think so.
Did I just spend 30 minutes looking for my camera cord to download these pictures? Maybe 45 minutes.
Do I fail at life? Naw, just at fantopia.