Play a Happy Little Tune

**ERMama & Tammy--not sure if you'll see my response to your comments on the last post, so I'll just bring attention to them here. :)  Thanks for those!!  Comments do make my day.

OK, short post.  Today was my first day back to work after glorious staycation and I decided that I definitely needed a way to "announce" my return...not just once, but every time I entered a room.  Solution: harmonica necklace!!!

A photo of harmonica necklace really wouldn't do it justice, a video seems much more appropriate.

Sarah McAbee, I know you remember buying me this little beaut, and I think you'll be pleased (but not surprised) to learn that this is Hen's most favorite thing in my jewelry box, second only to my engagement and wedding rings, which he is constantly trying to swipe ("You have TWO, you should SHAAAARE").  Tiny harmonica (which has another secret codename) will be with us forever.

Molly vs. Butterick Pattern B5629

Steps to sewing success:

Take a staycation. Go into start of staycation expecting to focus on LARGE list of honey-do projects that have been amounting while incorporating lots of play time, reading time, relaxing time with two adorable children.  Two days into staycation, decide that honey-do list is boring, and that completing to 65% is just as good as completing the whole way.  Shrug off the remaining 35% in favor of a "project". Surf internet for awhile, spend midnight hours on mommy-blogs, wonder why other moms are so awesome. Feel both strong dislike, and great admiration, for these D.I.Y. moms (seriously, they basically have their own sorority...sisters of DIY, we don't think we're better than you...we know we are). Only half-decide on a project, figuring that you can "flesh out the details" at the store.

Arrive at local Jo-Ann Fabrics.  Wander through aisles filled with colorful bolts of fabric. Having been seduced by said fabric (on sale! of course) and with delusions of crafting grandeur, venture into the abyss of the "sewing patterns" section. Go against better judgement to elect an easy project that could be completed over the course of an afternoon (new throw pillows, kitchen curtains...), instead, decide to sew a dress for your daughter.  (The plans said "Very Easy"...so it really can't be that difficult).

Emerge from fabric & pattern section half an hour later, with ridiculously well-behaved children in tow ("Oh, yes, thank you, they're always like this"). Pay for two yards of fabric, two Butterick sewing patterns, fusible interfacing and $15 worth of bonding/elastic/hook-eye closure/bias tape "stuff" that you know nothing about, but that you seem to remember as "important"...maybe...maybe not...who cares, just buy it.

Reward angel-boy with a trip across the mall to the sporting-goods store (or, "The Golf Shop" as it is referred to in our home).  Let him putt on the mini-green for 10 minutes, or until angel-baby wakes up and decides to pitch a fit.  Escort rumply, fussy, once perfectly-behaved children out of store.

Make it to car in just-in-time moment, only to realize that keys are lost.

Back into mall.  Tempting fate.  Search frantically through fabric store with crying baby and close-to-fit preschooler.  Allure of fabric store is lost after purchase has been made, and these other shoppers really seem to know what they're doing.  Feeling regret for such an ambitious project, but no time to revisit.  Keys are missing.  Run across to sporting goods store, smartly avoiding golfing section ("But I neeeed a 5 hyyyyybrid, mommeeeee"), realize five minutes into this crazy-lady search that keys were in front of stroller all along. Sigh of relief. Slap forehead with hand.

Lunch at Issei with Lizzie (best part of the trip!) and then home to piece through the goodies in the Jo-Ann bag.

After wrestling preschooler down for nap-time (unheard of), revisit contents of the shopping excursion with excitement and some uncertainty.  Sense of false confidence--check!  Am convinced that if Butterick says "Very Easy", it should be a walk in the park.  Get started making that "very easy" reversible dress with empire waist, button closure and gathered skirt for Kitty!!

About 2 minutes into instructions, realize that people who sew have their own super-special secret language.  Understitching? Grainline? Easestitch? Out-facing? Ok, that last one is sort of self-explanatory, but in the context of the overall plans it is just as confusing as the rest.  W.T.Elf Butterick Pattern B5629? Very Easy? Very easy for who, exactly? Martha Stewart?!

I managed to cut out pieces for the "bodice" (who uses that word?!) and have decided to just wing it for the rest.  Above is a photo of a cleaned-up version of what my dining room table looked like an hour into the project.

I'm going to preserve my crafting self-esteem and finish two projects that were already on my to-do list.  Sewing a ring-bearer pillow for the upcoming nuptials (SOOO SOOOON!!!  We are giddy with excitement--can you tell?) and a wedding bow-tie for my dapper nephew, Liam.  I'll post photos of those projects once completed and my confidence (or, over-confidence) in my sewing abilities will be restored.  Someday I'll finish that dress, I just hope Alice is still wearing size 12 months when it's complete.

Now, to enjoy the last day of staycation with a trip to visit my sister and Liam in Chambersburg.  A much nicer way to spend the day.

Pro-nunn-ciate.

We're learning new things every day in this house.  Kitty is rolling over, nearly sitting on her own, and doing other things that sound a lot like dog commands.  She was an absolute treasure during her 6-month checkup yesterday, cooing and laughing as Dr. Holly took measurements and checked all of the usuals (eyes, ears, nose, belly, etc.)  She weighed it at a solid 21 lb. 11 oz. and is literally off the charts in both weight and height.  Big ol' baby.

Hen's daily discoveries are (obviously) of a more sophisticated nature.  Each week his vocabulary expands, and while he does understand the meaning of the word or phrase, he doesn't always nail the pronunciation.  We have to help out a bit, but this is the thing--I don't want to help him. I think the mispronounced words are the sweetest.  (Oh, pardon me cowboy, is my bad parenting peeking through?  Let me just cover that up quickly...this is a family-friendly blog).

For posterity's sake, I'd like to capture a few of those mispronunciations.  They're like prehistoric beasts--with us one era, and extinct the next. 

Plip-plop: Flip-flop
Walt: Wallet
"I'm gonna beep you!": "I'm gonna beat you!"
The light Bathroom: The Bathroom light (as in, "Please leave on the light bathroom for bedtime")
My rubs: My ribs

There used to be so many more of these, but, alas, my little boy gets bigger and his use of the English language reflects that.  He's currently yelling, "Ladies and Gentlement, lintroducing...!"  Not sure where this is going, but I like how showy it is.  Maybe I should oblige with a tap dancing number?  Morning at the Boegels.

Eagle. Birdie. Hen.

I've heard the calls and am responding with a post...yes, a post...finally.

There is so much that I have to write about--it builds up and I end up with a logjam of ideas.  A "blogjam" if you will. Heh. Heh heh. Amused with myself.

First (and for this post) there is the matter of the increasing interest in the game of golf. Henry plays every day, almost all day.  He has indoor clubs (the plastic kind--a gift from Uncle J and Aunt Meggie on his 2nd birthday) and real outdoor clubs (including a putter that Mike claims is nicer than his...sneaky husband trying to get new clubs...don't think I don't know what you're doing).  He has outdoor balls (the real kind), indoor balls (the plastic practice kind), outdoor tees (again, the real deal) and indoor tees (whatever random small toy he finds that will act as a stand-in tee).

The daily golf game is a given in our house now.  It's just a part of our day to day.  Recently, however, this love of the game of golf even found its way into night-time routine.  Every night he'll ask to take a "pet" to bed.  This is a privilege afforded to those who remembered to bring their listening ears to daycare.  For the past two nights, Henry has asked to bring a pet to bed, and of the many different stuffed animals and dolls that he could choose from, he picks his outside driver and then his seven iron.  He says, "They're not soft pets, Mommy, they are hard pets, but I love them and I want to hold on to them when I am asleep."
 

Choosing to tee off from the "sand" (aka baseball diamond at the local park).  Also--as per usual, dressed himself.

It comes as no surprise then that Hen claims "I will be a golfer-man when I am bigger".  He asks to watch golf on the television, he asks for more clubs, he requests golf-related reading material--in fact, the other night he asked if I'd read him the latest issue of Golf Magazine as his bedtime story (that got interesting).

He's golf-obsessed.  We're supporting it, trying not to over-do it, allowing him to discover it on his own with some gentle guidance from his dad.  He seems to feel fairly confident already in his own coaching/mentoring skills and has said, "Mommy, when your birthday is up, you will get your girl clubs and then I will show you how to putt it in the hole. Is your birthday up yet? Is it tomorrow? When will we play together?" I am positively tickled by this, and also curious if Hen is at the age when I could get valuable information out of him--like what I'm getting for my birthday. 

At the same time, Mike and I know well enough not to move too fast too soon, because if we've learned anything about preschoolers, it's that they'll move on to a new "favorite" thing, a new curiosity, a new problem to tackle as quickly as we change the water filter--and that is perfectly fine and normal.  For now though, we're enjoying this. Hen is such a neat little kid with interests that he develops largely on his own. We are content to sit back, count strokes with him, cheer him on and to wonder what he'll discover next.

May 28: Pooey the Builder

So many new jobs have come in this week--thanks a lot 'nado--and Pooey the Builder is busy at work.  Here we see her toiling away in her office.  She is seriously going to have to can that useless Wendy. Honestly Wendy, c'mon, it's "Pooey the Builder", not "Pooey the Office Manager".  And don't think that we don't know about all of these personal calls you've been making on the company phone.  Wendy, this is a place of business, not a sorority house. 

Off to get ready for the night out--bachelorette party!!!  Updates from tonight (possibly...) in a future post.

May 25-26: First Massey's of the summer & Stormpocalypse

This has been the most bizarre month weather-wise.  Rainy and low 50's to sunny and mid 80's, torrential downpour followed by perfect blue-skied day and, now, tornadoes.  Feeling awfully "rapture-y" to me.

Wednesday was great--sunny, a little hot during the day, cooling off in the evening.  Blue, bright, wonderful.  Mike had the great fortune of online class, which meant his daily driving time was reduced from 2.5 hours to a piddly 1.5 hours.  ;)  A few minutes before class "began", he casually mentioned that if I was interested in driving over to Massey's, he could be interested in that.  Ohh...OK Mike, gotcha... you could be interested, *wink wink*.

I am never one to turn down the opportunity to get ice cream (see previous post involving chocolate ice cream face).  Hen and I hopped into the car and drove the short distance to our favorite local ice cream place.  Arctic Mount w/pb cups, hot fudge & peanut butter sauce for mom, same w/Reese's Pieces for dad, kid's cone with sprinkles for Hen.

Now I'm not sure if you can see this in the photo, but I was really interested in the Massey's sprinkle color-scheme: chartreuse, robin's egg blue, lavender, fuschia, beige and white.  Beige sprinkles???  Who has beige sprinkles?  What is this, some hip pop-up ice cream joint?  Hen took far less interest in the color of the sprinkles and quickly got to work devouring his cone.  He held onto it so tightly that his shirt got scrunched up under his arms and his belly button got a little air time.

We drove home and continued to eat our treats on the porch in the newly painted Adirondack chairs (yay! Mother's Day!)  Hen finished his kid's cone, wiped his face with the back of his arm, stood up, and removed his shorts.  He invited me to do the same, but I politely declined.  I hadn't finished my ice cream yet, it would be in poor taste to remove my shorts before finishing my dish.  After a little underwear dance party on the porch, he finally agreed to bath and bedtime.

Too young for ice cream, but NEVER too young for dress-up.  She started talking about flux capacitors and all that junk.  Nerdy baby.

Chatting on the front porch--taking a break from the cone.

Underwaaaaaare!!!!!!  "Mama, take of your shorts!!"

The following evening was less picturesque.  Tornado warning and very menacing, dark skies had us in the basement, wearing headlamps and eating cake.  Kitty seemed a little uncomfortable with the situation, but Hen embraced the dark & stormy and was fully on board for a basement adventure.  He didn't want to come back upstairs, but I am fairly certain that this had less to do with his newfound love of the spare-sock filled, musty, dark underworld of the basement and far more to do with his disinterest in bath/bed. 

Once he hit the pillow, however, totally different story.  Out like a light.  Alice was the same.  I was also completely exhausted and fell asleep, until awoken by our VERY loud neighbors.  What is it about a terrifying weather-related experience??  People were overly friendly and far too interested in socializing.  Go back to your quiet existence inside of your own homes, peeps.  I am trying to sleep!  I feel it important to mention that one of these "post-tornado block party" folks was my husband.  He's much friendlier to the people who occupy the other homes on our street.((See "list for summer" post and the bit addressing my poor neighbor-friend-making skills.  I really am a jerk)).

Those happy-go-luckies (including the two older ladies that live next door to us and WAITED OUT THE STORM ON THEIR PORCH--baller) were shivering in their boots at around midnight/1am when things got super apocalypse-y.  I have never heard lightning that loud.  It was really awful.  I wish that the kids had been able to sleep through, alas, they woke up and were stressed and afraid.  Worst feeling.  I wish I could have made that all better. 

This morning--no work due to power outage (as you can tell from this post, the power has been restored), messy streets, sirens all over the place (that's actually normal for Carlisle though) and...clear and sunny skies.  Raaaaptuuuuure...!!!!

May 24: Kitty is Hen's #1 Fan

It's been a while since we had a kitty-clip.  Not that there is much variation between them--Alice bobbles, growls, drools, does something cute, I praise her, end of video. As similar as they may be, I do know that I'll be grateful that I took these videos two years from now when she is a living terror and I need to be reminded of a time when I called her "best-baby".

Speaking of living terrors (joking)...Hen is now demanding that we follow him into the backyard, where he will demonstrate how he hits the golf ball with his seven iron and then with his putter.  "You hit it hard when you are far away, and then you hit it softly with your putter when you are close to the hole".  Thanks for the lesson,  Hen.  Pickle Mickson (or, Phil Mickleson, as he is known to anyone outside of this home) would be proud.

Favorite moment in this video--when Hen (off camera) steps into the room and Alice immediately looks towards him and smiles.  This kid really loves her big brother.