Showers of Blessings for Dandy, B and Peanut!

Dandy, I'm so excited to be "at" your virtual shower!! 

I'm imagining a buffet table full of assorted bacon-wrapped treats

and little paper tricycles hanging from the ceiling.

Perfect!

Please imagine me with gorgeous, glossy, silky hair.  Thanks.

If we were really together, I'd give you a big squeeze, squeal at how cute you are, complement you on your shoes (which I know would be divine), and then start gushing about parenthood.  Because it's truly a blessing.  A gift!  I'm so delighted you and  B are about to experience it, in all it's gory, magical, sweet, ridiculous, overwhelming, humbling, joyful glory.  And I can't wait to follow every moment of it through your blog!

Sooo...I decided to make you something...

They're burp cloths. 

Or tummy time cloths. 

Or quick-I-gotta-change-you-on-the-floor-anywhere cloths. 

Or my-goodness-you-drool-a-lot cloths.

Then when Peanut gets older, they're dust cloths!

Do not handle them with care.  Throw 'em in the car, step on 'em, wipe the spit up off the floor with 'em, then throw 'em in the washer.  That's what they're meant for.

So anyhow, I'm not so good at sewing...

So why do I continue to make these for my pregnant friends? 

Well, the third trimester can be trying.  You're tired, you're hot, you're sweaty, you're cranky and if one more person says "wow, you look ready to pop!" you're just gonna deck them.  Or dissolve into some hot, sweaty tears.  Can I get an amen?

*crickets chirping*

*a tumbleweed rolls past*

Okay, so that was just me, all enormous and sweaty at 37 weeks.

But anyway.  Whatever your mood in the third trimester, I like to make people laugh.  And you'll laugh.  Oh my...you'll laugh.  As you inspect the "straight stitch" that looks more like the blueprints to a roller coaster.  A loopy one.  A nauseatingly loopy one. 

And then your friend will drop by, see the burp cloths and say "oh, how cuuuute!  A five year old made you a gift!"  and then you'll laugh some more.

The fact that it's at the expense of my miserable sewing skills is all just part of the gift. 

See?  I'm a giver.

I think this is my favorite fabric. 

It's so boy.

Although I do love the frogs. 

Peanut may have some in his pocket some day.

And this little triceratops, well he's just longing for a little spit up.

Well, this baby shower is just lovely.
I'm so glad I got to come!
As usual, I've eaten too much cake, and I'm stealing one of the centerpieces to take home.

Congratulations Dandy and B!
Peanut is blessed to be born to such amazing parents!

Appliqued Bibs

I think I've purchased just about every bib ever manufactured and sold in the Northern Hemisphere. Oh, what the heck, throw in the Southern Hemisphere too. What good is exaggerating if you can't include the whole planet? I buy them. I try them. The twins annihilate them. I return them. I cry. I suffer from Bib Defeation. If a bib is the right material (washable, absorbent fabric please, with no waterproof backing so I can put it in the dryer please, and by the way, I'd prefer PVC-, BPA-free, thanks) then it's not the right length. Why wear a bib if it only protects the shirt? The pants are just as cute. And goodness knows, if a banana wheel falls on the shirt, it's gonna roll down to the pants. If the bib is the right length (full coverage please, right down to the knees, and way off the shoulders in width, thanks) then it doesn't have the right neck closure (velcro's great but no match for my biblical twins who rent their bibs in anguish when they get... well, anguished (which happens a lot in their dramatic little lives). So while velcro is a no-go, ties are an all out impossibility on a rapidly moving target, so I'll take a combo velcro/hook & eye closure). Uh... Combo velcro/hook & eye neck closure? More on that momentarily. We own some closed-neck bibs, but they are never tight enough around the neck, leaving precious collars dangerously open to blueberry dribble. Plus, our closed-neck bibs are bedecked with licensed characters. Now I love Elmo and Dora as much as the next person but do they have to be everywhere? They're like black holes sucking up every dollar bill in a 1500 mile radius. Anywho, if I'm gonna be so stinkin' picky about it all, why not just make my own bibs and make them to my multitudinous specs? Well, for one, it's much more fun to complain about every bib manufacturururerererer's shortcomings than to actually take matters into my own hands. But then my angel of a mom steps in. She made these. Because she's fantastic and is always helping me out in any way she can. (And also because she'd like to see her grandchildren attend college one day, rather than watch their college funds dwindle away to nothingness in my quest to purchase the perfect bib, thank you very much target.com.) Re-purposing is good for the earth. And it pleases my sensibilities. These are old bath hand towels. There's still lots of good absorbent jobs they could perform; they were just betrayed by fading dyes and tiny patches of threadbare. So why not just cut a neck hole in them and sew on a combo velcro/hook & eye closure? YEAH!! Why not! Thanks MOM!! The velcro is great. It holds the bib in place just fine. But when rending of clothes occurs, you're gonna be singing the praises of that hook & eye. So...why not just have a hook & eye? Well, for one, while that baby is swiveling around like a Tasmanian devil in the high chair, the velcro is nicely holding the bib in place while you hunt around for that eye. Plus, hook & eyes can slip backward, allowing ample opportunity for bib rending.

A few appliques make these old towels into really cute bibs.

We interrupt this blog post to bring you this very important message.

Bug just wrote her first word.

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT?

I repeat.

BUG WROTE HER FIRST WORD, BABY!

Papa! For Papa Gary, my father in law. I couldn't believe my eyes. I watched her do it while we sounded out the word. I thought she was going to scribble like usual, but then she busted out real letters! After which, I melted onto the floor into a shimmering pool of Proud. Then I reformed back into solid human form and told Bug how amazing she was. Then I melted again.

Now back to your regularly scheduled blog.

Bibs. Let's recap the situation. I love these bibs. They cover every inch of the front side of a baby. They absorb spills. (Spills? That sounds so nice, like a commercial. The scenario I'm referring to is something like: "I'm gonna smash this avocado all over my body until it finds my mouth"). I can treat them like dirty old threadbare towels in the laundry. I didn't buy a new bib at the store. I re-purposed an old item saving it from the landfill. It's worth repeating: I love these bibs! And my Mom.

Monkey recap:

Big ole rusty, trusty work-truck recap: Cupcakes and strawberries for the softer sided twin:

To be fair, here's the cupcake recap:

Strawberry recap:

And here we have the bibs in action (Dee, my gentle little lady. And Bex, yes, you are king of the high chair):

Roger that.

Elle Bee

P.S. I hope to post a biblical rending of the bibs video someday. If anyone has any idea what I'm talking about, let me know in comments. I'll feel less like a lone Fruit Loop in a milky sea of smart multigrain Cheerios.

Post post script. To all my followers, commenters and lurkers-Thank you!

I love words. (Except for the one I told Jana. And a few others I can't remember right now, but I'll be sure to diligently report to Jana as soon as I do, for I'm quite certain she's waiting with bated breath). For instance, the other day, Debbie said "recalcitrant". Pioneer Woman said "dejected". Relyn said "complacencies". Fantastic words, all! Some of my favorites are tempest, pulchritudinous, inadvertently, sanction, repose, succor and so many others. Aren't they lovely the way they sound? I even love the way they look typed. I love to put words together into sentences, which is part of the reason I blog. The fact that you read my words, undeterred by the reckless, haphazard sentences, , the alarming disregard for grammar rules, and the on-again-off-again relationship I have with topic monogamy, it tickles me to no end. Thank you!

Post post post script. And thanks for saying sweet things about my kids too (who are the other reason I blog).

Crafty Fridays

Dfk and I have been getting together Friday mornings and engaging in crafty activities while our kidlets run amok. The first Friday dfk was supposed to paint the girls' faces, but only her daughter was into that...Then dfk busted out the candy-making supplies and Bug thought that was a much more worthy pursuit. They made white and yellow flower lollipops.

The next Friday, dfk and I made no-sew tutus for the girls. It was so much fun and they turned out great. It was a delight to see the girls bounding around and twirling in their little ballerina get-ups.

The next Friday, we sewed! This was my very first sewing project and it turned out to be just what I needed to gain confidence and get a feel for my sewing machine (which, up until now, has loomed in the closet, all mysterious and kind of scary; a big white machine lurking and calling my name with a lilting raspy voice: "Elle....ELLE...you better use me....you bought me 6 years ago and never used me....what a shameful waste of money...". Well. It turns out, sewing (and my sewing machine) really isn't that scary. Especially if you have your mom teach you how and stand right next to you on your first straight stitch run. Dfk worked on an adorable blanket for her youngest son, and I made these burp cloths to give as gifts at some upcoming baby showers:

Here's me, the nauseatingly proud beginner:

This coming Friday we're going to make some more tutus because, well, a girl really can't have too many tutus.