Do you remember the history faire this fall?  It landed a few days before Halloween.  In a strange twist of fate (aided by Warrior’s refusal to allow me to sew Halloween costumes a week before having a baby), the kids decided to be their history characters for Halloween.  So I only had to sew a costume for Pretty Girl.  The requirements were thus:

• Darling
• So simple that Warrior wouldn’t realize I was sewing a Halloween costume.

Pretty Girl has a pair of pink and black zebra print tights that I have been waiting a full year for her to wear.  Since nothing matches them I have been planning to make a dress but never got around to it.  When I saw zebra print fleece I knew she HAD to be a zebra.

I whipped up a simple dress and knitted a hat.  I am NOT a knitter but this hat was a piece of cake.  It is a rectangle with a seam and gathered and pulled tight at one end.  I had my doubts about it looking good but it did.  It was darling.  Too bad she didn’t want to wear it.  I was really glad I drew the line (aka ran out of time) at stitching on pointy ears.

We only had one glitch ~ as we were running out the door and I was throwing tights on Pretty Girl it occurred to me that they were CHEETAH tights, not ZEBRA tights.  Dang.

So we went for the plain black and white striped tights that match a lot of outfits.  Not a huge deal since the tights didn’t even make it into the one picture we snapped, but I had to share for full disclosure.  I wouldn’t want people to think I was talented without also realizing I’m a complete idiot.

And yes, I was a gypsie.  I was SO excited that people actually figured that out on their own.

Happy Halloween!

Are you one of those silly people who thinks Christmas ended way back in December?  Or thinks that December ended way back in 2009?  Ready for our December recap?  Apparently we did more than I thought we did.

We started off December by making my quicky whole wheat loaf.  Momma wanted to learn and of course we put it off until the day she was leaving.  In between packing bags I made her stir.  Poor thing.  She didn’t even get to taste it and I would say she was practically home before it was finished but since she got caught in a snowstorm and took two days to get home, it’s actually more honest to say it was practically gone by the time she got home.  Guess she has to make it herself now.  Which was the whole point anyway.

One day I gathered all my strength, climbed into the attic and pulled out the Christmas tree.  I pushed it down the stairs where it sat for a couple days while I recovered.  This little elf (in her baby brother’s hat) admired the heap of plastic evergreen, little suspecting it would eventually be pretty.  After I said “if we don’t decorate soon there won’t be much point in bothering”, Warrior and the kids set up the tree and hung ornaments while I helped by lounging in bed all day.  This picture of the tree was after some adjustments by Pretty Girl.  The first day it was rather stunning. If I can find the picture I will (not) post it.  Come on people.  It’s almost January.  Are you STILL thinking about Christmas?

Little Man had his first evening without mom.  More shocking, mom had her first evening without Little Man.  On a bitter cold evening I took the kids to a Christmas musical shadow play.  It was an experience.  Interesting.  Nice to get out.  Fun to see my kids dressed up nicely.  Not exactly the “Christmas Carol” memories from my childhood but you have to start somewhere.  In the picture Pretty Girl is getting all the babies ready for dad to watch.  I know he took good care of Little Man.  I’m really not sure if he neglected all the other babies.

We had a FHE lesson on sharing our blessings and the gladness of the season.  The kids and I made cookies, caramel corn and cute little tealight candles which were a whole lot darker and cuter on the blog we copied, wherever that link went.  I spent one day munching caramel corn and one day smacking my hand every time I walked past. Finally I sewed up darling little bags and packaged them up.  We only barely had enough corn.  Can you imagine if I’d had to make (and eat) another batch?

Warrior worked a bajillion double shifts right in a row.

Really.  A bajillion.  I know.  I counted. So we could not deliver our goodies.  Thankfully my visiting teaching companion stopped by to grab some of them.  I think she just wanted to hold Little Man.  She’s waiting impatiently for grandchildren from the teenager sitting on her left who wouldn’t even hold Little Man for fear she would break him.  Or he would poop on her.  I think grandchildren are a pipe dream.

We made sugar cookies.  Everyone got to pick two colors.  Nobody picked the same two colors.  We had a LOT of colors.  And it took a lot of convincing to make Pretty Girl share “my pink” and “my purple”.  Again, I spent a day eating sugar cookies.  I did not have to spend the second day smacking my hand because I (and Santa) ate them all the first day.  I’m getting smarter.  And fatter.

And then finally it was Christmas.  So we did nothing.  Don’t tell my kids.  Rather than make the kids wait until 3:30pm on the 25th

when Dad got home from his 5th double in 6 days, we decided to postpone Christmas.  But only after a lot of discussion.

“Dad, what day is Christmas?”

“Ask your mom”

“Mom, what day is Christmas?”

“Either Friday or Saturday.  I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean you’re not sure?”

“I’m just not sure.”

On Thursday morning Warrior called to say he would not be working.  Then 20 minutes after I told the kids Christmas was Friday, he found out he WAS working.

“Kids!  Guess what!  Christmas is Saturday.”

“You said it was Friday.”

“I was wrong.  It’s Saturday.  Isn’t that GREAT!?”

Thankfully the only calendar at our house is high enough for 6′4″ Warrior to see.  At one point Prince checked his pocket planner but thankfully it was from 2005.

The day after (the day after) Christmas, we went to Warrior’s nephew’s house for a family gathering to celebrate the Birth of our Savior and watch the Cowboys win (I won’t mention which monumental event was a higher focus of the evening.)

For me the highlights were wondering why it took three pictures to get a photo of all the members of our little family and trying to figure out what to do with my hands while my nieces and sister in law cuddled my baby.  I fidgeted.  I squirmed.  I looked for a floor to mop.  I felt naked without either a baby or a chore to rush through.

I THOUGHT this marathon post included our entire year but I just realized the boys also had a birthday.  Stay tuned for that.  And Halloween.  And then I promise I’ll think about starting a new decade.

If you are a mom you have to watch this video on being invisible.

Pretty Girl spent the better part of a day trying to fit her baby in the baby carrier.  She found it was  a tad big but I enjoyed watching her.  Warrior said she was imitating her favorite person.  This was about a month ago when I wasn’t sure if she loved me or not.  Flattery will get you everywhere dear child.

Where would you move if you could move anywhere?  It’s a question we discuss occasionally (daily) around here.  A couple weeks ago we had a bit of snow.  Almost 2 feet in one storm.  I love the snow.   Well, I love the snow when:

• the sun is shining and warm
• the snow is on a mountain
• I’m wearing skiis

That was kind of how it was with this storm except:

• the sun didn’t shine
• it was not the least bit warm
• the only mountain was a mountain of snow in my driveway
• though I was sadly not wearing skiis, I was wearing slippers instead of snowboots.

Warrior had to work a double that morning so the missionaries came over for a rough workout and a well deserved breakfast.  They had help from Tackler but it still took them a few hours.

I stayed inside taking pictures of my babies and dreaming of a warmer climate in my future.

People keep asking me how Pretty Girl is handling the adjustment from Princess of the Universe to Miss “Who is this usurper?”

She had a rough month or so at the beginning – feeling ousted and unsure of her place in our little family – but she has never shown anything but adoration for her baby brother.

She understands it isn’t his fault that mom has 4 kids and only 3 arms.

I know I promised an update on our exciting Christmas but apparently we did more than I thought and it was too overwhelming to blog something with 3 whole pictures.  (It was a lazy day).

I realized why it’s so intimidating to read blogs.  When you read my Christmas post you’ll think “Wow.  They did so many fun things to celebrate Christmas.”  When really we didn’t.  I felt like a scrooge all month and felt so sorry for my neglected children while reading all your blogs about all the fabulous things you all did.

We did nothing.

But we took a handful of pictures at each nothing and that adds up to a decent post.  Life in snapshot mode is so much more exciting than the real thing.  No wonder we blog.  To remind us that our lives aren’t as pathetic as we think they are.  I’m still being a scrooge aren’t I?

Well, to make up for making you wait for Christmas (like the fact that everyone else already has 30 posts in about THIS year isn’t bad enough), I am proving to you that someone snuck in here and made my baby grow.

He’s been steadily getting bigger but last week he lost another layer of that newborn look.  He laughs constantly.  I LOVE his smile.

Oh you HAVE to come see it in person.

But he’s not a newborn anymore.  He’s big.  And old.  And dang CUTE.  Or so I hear.  From his mother.  Who says it all day long.  I think she’s awfully biased.

I feel the absurd urge to make you jealous of all the revelry that occurred over here at the end of 2009.  First, Thanksgiving.

My dad was planning to come out for Little Man’s blessing and cook us up a mighty fine turkey.  But he got stuck in the salt mines instead.  I did Thanksgiving one year and it was spectacular.  I always fear that I won’t be able to repeat perfection so I’m afraid to try.  Plus we didn’t have any friends to invite.  Plus Warrior had to work.  Plus I just had a baby.  Equals one incredibly pathetic Thanksgiving.  I opted for foregoing the whole holiday because without a houseful of friends and family, what is the point?

At the last minute I decided to only be halfway pathetic.  What we got was pathetic but at least pathetically comical.

Our feast included the following:

• Turkey (actually Michigan Chicken)
• Stuffing (actually leftover rice)
• Rocks (actually Rhodes rolls.  Why can I make rolls from scratch but when I try the cheater method they fall flat?  However, baked in a cube of butter they were the tastiest rocks you’ve ever tried)
• Sweet potatoes (actually sweet potatoes – this was the one dish that was actually made correctly)
• Pie (actually a store bought disgusting tin of artificial whatevers.  I really can’t stand storebought sweets and this pie was among the worst).

Our delectable faire was only matched by our revelers:

• Grandpa (stuck out west)
• Warrior (asleep.  He ran a 5k road race in the morning then came home and went to bed so he could get up and work a double that night.)
• Pretty Girl (asleep.  She was part of the cheering section at the race and came home tired and slept through our raucous party)
• Grandma, Me, two 5 year olds.

I am sure you blogged about your thankful day two months ago but if you can top mine for celebratory madness, I want to hear about it.

In the meantime, come back tomorrow because Christmas was even more thrilling.

In my attempt to clear out my fridge BEFORE all the food went bad yesterday I accidentally discovered a pasta dish I like.  I think spaghetti is gross.  It didn’t used to bother me but sometime in the past year or so it came so I could barely tolerate it.  Most days I didn’t even tolerate it.  When Warrior requested it I ignored the rule that says “You’ll eat what I serve or you’ll go hungry” and I filled up on spinach instead.  (Or cookies.  I can’t remember which).

Saute sliced red and yellow peppers and sliced red onion in olive oil until they smell so good you find yourself burning your fingers by picking pieces out of the pan.  Toss with penne pasta.  Throw on a little garlic salt.  Yum!

And SOOO incredibly easy.   Just don’t make the mistake I made.  I told Warrior about it and he took the last two servings to work.  I guess if he’s going to work a double I can share.  But all it left me to nibble on last night was spinach.  (Or cookies.  I can’t remember which).

My brother just had a baby girl.  She is teeny and beautiful and I’m jealous.

Here are a couple photos of my teeny beautiful baby back when he was teeny at a month old.  Now that he is two months old he has shot up past teeny and moved all the way to tiny.

He has outgrown his newborn size outfits and is threatening to skip past 0-3 month.  He has little fat rolls and chubby cheeks.  Oh where does the time go!?

Warrior mocks me.  When I was pregnant with the twins I cried one day because I was going to blink and they would be heading off to college.  He asked “Do you think they can be born before you worry about them leaving?” 

But I was right.  They are already 6.  And my baby is 2.  And my infant is 2 months.  I need to figure out how to stop blinking.  Or pray for 3 dozen more.

Oh, and I suppose you think instead of whining about how big my baby is I should post a picture to prove it.  I’m going to try to do it tomorrow so check back and see if I was able to put down the bonbons long enough to do it.

My niece is absurdly in love with Hippos so my sister in law found a darling hippo print in this etsy shop for her bathroom.

Since my sister in law is the one who first taught me to make hairbows I decided to make her daughter a hippo hair bow holder to match the picture.  I used my own birdie holder as a starting point but I like the hippo much better and think I need to make Pretty Girl a new holder.

Of course, no hair bow holder is complete without a few bows.  The blue pair is my absolute favorite so I duplicated it for our own collection.  

Which reminds me – I finally opened my shop.  I mean, everyone else is on that bandwagon.  Of course, there’s nothing in it but you’re free to go look at the empty shelves and tell me how pretty they are.  And then tell me what you want in there cause I have no idea what to sell and I’m horrible at figuring out how much to charge but if I don’t brag that I own a shop now too I’ll never remember the link.  Ok, honestly I opened it 6 months ago but forgot the link until now.

So happy shopping.  Really.  Humor me.  Go here.

Pretty Girl discovered baby dolls this summer while visiting Momma’s (my mom) house this summer (that’s what grandmothers are for right?)  So the next week when we visited Grammy (Warrior’s mom), she bought her a doll (that’s what grandmothers are for right?)

Of course she loved the doll (named Baby) and insisted on having it with her at all times.  Wonderful.  Except you know me, I wanted her to have a cloth doll.  So I asked my mom if she had a pattern for a doll I could make for Christmas.  She scanned and emailed me three patterns to choose from and offered to make it (that’s what mothers are for right?).

At her 2nd birthday, Pretty Girl received another plastic doll (named BeeBee and once Little Man also calls him by Little Man’s name).  She loves him more than Baby but of course the older kids always get neglected when a new baby is born.

When my mom was here in November we worked together on the doll.  She did the thinking, cutting, and detail work.  I did the machine sewing because she only likes to sew on her antique of a Singer machine she got in college.  I don’t know that I really get the credit but since she hasn’t blogged it yet (check back here for when she does), I’m taking a little credit.

Notice the belly button (have you ever seen anything so cute?) and the heart (what do you mean our hearts aren’t heart shaped?) and the diaper (which if you remember was supposed to be for Little Man but was just a little small).

She also has a dress, bloomers and sunbonnet. What’s not to love?  My mom did a fantastic job on the face and Pretty Girl named her Pretty Dolly.  She said I am Pretty Dolly.  What a compliment.  Except I don’t think she meant I was pretty.  I think the connection she’s making is that she wants nothing to do with the doll except when forced upon her (by me).  I tried to hide the other two but Warrior said that was mean.  (So?)  I now have desperate plans to make Pretty Girl and Pretty Dolly a whole wardrobe of matching outfits.  Something has to sway her to MY pick of dolls.

Do you remember the following conversation from this post?

Me (while browsing blogs): “Yeah!  I found my niece’s Christmas present.”

My mom: “Oh, good.  I thought we were going to have to make it!”

The amazing project I found was a felt Mr. Potato Head idea from here.  Brilliant.  Darling.  So fun! I included lips and a hat to switch out for Mrs. Potato Head.

I am not worried that my niece won’t enjoy it.  I was more concerned that my self appointed “testers” would wear it out before I got it sent.  Now I need to make one for my own kids but the felt was from my stash and I can’t find potato colored felt ANYWHERE.  It’s all either chocolate or camel.  Maybe I should try Idaho.  Surely THEY sell potato colored felt.

In the LDS faith children are baptized when they reach the age of accountability, age 8.  We do however, have a special ordinance for infants in which they receive a name and a blessing.

For this special occasion I made a sweet little outfit for my little guy.  I thought it would be a piece of cake.  With most sewing patterns I ignore the instructions and just whip them together but this was the most complicated little thing I have ever sewn.

I joked that it could come last in my priority list because if all else failed, I could throw it together on Saturday night.

But don’t worry, I was smarter than that.

I cut it out in September.

I even sewed it half together in October.

…So why was I awake at 12:30 on Saturday night having the following conversation with my husband?

Him: Are you coming to bed?

Me (apologetically): As soon as I finish this.

Him (incredulously): You’re not FINISHED yet?

Me (duh-ly): ____  (I mean seriously, have I EVER been done ahead of time?  Why would he even THINK I might be?  Sheesh.)

Him (resignedly): How much more do you have to do?

Me (cheerfully): I just have to sew on the buttons and make the button holes.

Him (wonderingly): Goodnight.

Me (quietly to my mom): Should I have admitted there are 15 buttons on this thing?

Even that would not have been so bad except…I lost my button holer. So we started hunting.  My mom asked “What size box is it in?”  (Her button holer, which is almost older than her, takes up half a dozen boxes.  Mine is a teeny tiny thing that belongs in the front drawer of my sewing machine.  However, since Pretty Girl thinks SHE belongs in the front drawer of my sewing machine I long ago moved all my doodads elsewhere.  But WHERE was that handy spot?

2 hrs later not only did I find that spot but I was able to cross off one of my 2010 goals – I organized my sewing room because that’s how I hunt – I clean until it turns up.  So then it was only 2am and I had to make a “couple” buttonholes.  No sweat.

It was a beautiful outfit.  A spiritual uplifting blessing.  A fabulous day.  And for all anyone saw of his outfit, he might as well have been wearing a white pillowcase.

Pictures:

1 – My little family with our adopted nearby grandparents.

2 – My little family with my mom (unfortunately my dad had to work and couldn’t get here.  I said we’d hold off on the blessing until the Sunday before Little Man outgrew his outfit and he suggested we stop feeding him so he wouldn’t grow so we did it without him).

3 – The priesthood holders in the blessing circle (our Bishop is holding Little Man)

4 – Me and my angel – the best shot of the outfit.  You can’t see the gorgeous row of buttons down the back but I promise when I have another boy I’ll post a picture of the back so keep checking my blog so you don’t miss it.

Almost two months ago I left my family and took a little trip to a nearby resort (read here).  I got high on drugs, slept most of the time and enjoyed room service and breakfast (and lunch and dinner) in bed every day.  Since I was having SO much fun (read here), Warrior decided to retaliate in two horrific ways.  The fallout has been so devastating, it has taken me two months to blog it and even now I wince.

#1: He stole my baby

There are two famous sayings about love.  In a battle between Distance makes the heart grow fonder and Out of sight; out of mind, I can attest that the former holds more water.  Do you know what happens when a 24 month old is subjected to her father for both mothering and fathering for 4 straight days?  She falls madly in love with her father and her mother turns into squashed peas.

I am now good for one thing.  Pretty girl prefers dad for all else.  And he relishes his position as favorite.  I get two years per kid.  And then I lose them.  Is it any wonder I want a few dozen?

As tragic as this has been (and believe me, it’s been heart wrenching), his greater crime is ….

#2: He stole my family’s dignity

Our lives our dedicated to sports (yeah yeah and of course the gospel but that’s a given).  I am a lifelong Dodgers Fan and Warrior is a lifelong Mets fan.  The brainwashing has been heavier on the Mets side but we were all able to get along and enjoy each others fanaticism.

However, since the twins were 9 months old and attended their first MLB game, we have had a tradition.  Whichever team we see play becomes our new “favorite”.  For about 4 years we endured having the Pittsburg Pirates as our Numero Uno.  This worked because they were #1.  (You sports fans didn’t know that did you?  Well, it’s true.  They held the record.  Ok, so it was the record for most losses, but we didn’t let that stop us).

We were saved a couple years ago when we managed to sneak in a Mets game.  We joked that we should refrain from attending any more games but the bigger agreement was that we could never watch the Yankees since we all despised them.  (You know where this is going don’t you?)

This fall Warrior was offered tickets (and comraderie) to a Yankees game in the famed Yankee stadium.  (The NEW stadium which was bigger.  Oooh la la.  Whoop de doo.)  I forbade.  Warrior ignored me.  So what choice did I have?  I agreed on ONE condition (to which he agreed) – since we were not attending as a FAMILY, the family rule did not apply.

Guess what?  The big fat FINK came home a die hard Stinkees fan.  And THEN (as if that wasn’t crime enough), while I was locked up in prison (er, I mean enjoying my resort vacation), he converted my cherubs.  Since I couldn’t have visitors he brought me pictures.  Of my kids in Yankee shirts.  Is that not just WRONG?  What’s a woman to do when she has such a rotten husband?  Cry, I tell ya.  All I can do is cry.  At least I still have Little Man.  He still loves me.  For 22.25 more months.

We celebrated the twins 4th birthday this year.  They were 5 last year and I handled that ok but 6 just sounded really old so I sent them back to 4.  They handled it very maturely.  They ignored me.  And corrected me.  Very good naturedly.  I was impressed.  Maybe they really are 6.  I don’t feel old enough for them to be 6 though.

We had a quiet celebration.  Just the family.  Mom, Dad, Sister, Brother, and the Grandparents who are neither my parents nor Warrior’s parents but hold the important distinction of “Grandparents who LIVE nearby”.  They provided the football icecream cake.

The outfits were provided by their Aunt and Uncle who spoil them rotten.  I finally washed them tonight.  Two weeks later.  They wore them every single day.  These are kids who go through 3 outfits a day.  At night they put on their pajamas, then put these outfits back on top until bedtime.

The hat and shoes were from Warrior. I KNOW you didn’t think I had anything to do with Yankee hats or black tennis shoes.  So what did I do?  Nothing I guess.  I did all the hard stuff 6 years ago.  Happy 4th Birthday boys!

Day 1: Throw chicken and a jar of salsa into the crockpot.  Eat dinner.  Leave leftovers in crockpot.

Day 2: Use a fork to roughly shred whatever chicken is left.

Add the following:

Corn

Black beans

Frozen “Parsley”

Some sort of grain like rice or noodles

Some more water if it isn’t quite soupy enough for you.  Heat in crock and eat.

Note for those who are not familiar with frozen parsley:

“Yuck, is that spinach in the soup?”  “No, it’s parsley.”  “Oh yum!  I love parsley!”  Some day I suppose I should fess up but for now they love spinach – - just don’t tell them.

My boys spent last week wrapping presents. Random things from around the house.

• Warrior* is getting an ornament. It’s a cute little pink strawberry shortcake kitty that I was given when I was 5. I’m sure he’ll love it.
• Prince is getting a beanie baby puppy. Nice. Except that it’s his favorite animal and I can’t imagine him getting through the next week without it!
• Warrior is also getting a camera. Our camera. Imagine ME getting through this next week without it!

What are YOU getting for Christmas?

*Who is Warrior you ask?  He’s the man of the house.  Our King.  My hottie.  The tough guy around here planning to run 3 Warrior Dashes this year.

Pretty Girl had a busy day on Saturday.  When her brother discovered her and called for me, I found she had

A) Pooped in her unie pannies and had a heap of wipes to clean up the mess.

B) Cut her hair

C) Was applying lipstick

All in a day’s work for a two year old eh?

A) My first thought was thankfulness because though her unie pannies were still around her ankles she had not used the wipes to clean.  Last time it happened there was a bigger mess with poopy wipes than there was before she helped.  I begged her to tell me next time.

B) My thankfulness flew out the window and my heart sank when I saw a small pile of whispy blonde hairs on the carpet.  I searched her head and was ever so thankful that she just increased her bangs.   I have lately been thinking she needs to graduate from baby hair (all coming from the crown) to girl hair (bangs but the rest going back) but she made that a little harder.  Other than that, not much damage done thankfully.  I was worried she might have cut off her long baby curls which probably won’t grow back once they are gone.  I vowed to keep sissors AWAY from her from now on.  She asks before cutting material.  Think I could get her to pay as much homage to her own body?

C) She didn’t do too bad a job.  Maybe next time I’ll let her try mascara.

Tackler came downstairs one day wearing pants but no shirt.  He found an audience in his father, flexed his biceps and exclaimed “Look at these guns baby!”  Thanks dad.  I wonder where he got that line.

I now have a husband who loves to tell that story and 3 children who love to flex their ample muscles and point out their “guns”.

Yes 3.

That is a picture of my dainty daughter and her guns.  Her dolly also has guns baby.

Well, first of all, I had a baby.  That counts for something right?

My mom was here for 3 weeks.  I think we did a lot.  It didn’t seem like it at the time but when I consider how little I’ve done since then, my perspective changes.  Of course, we got a slow start because the first week I slept, recovered, read two books and fed a baby.  A lot.  I also changed a couple diapers.  I mean a couple hundred.

The doctor had two important questions for me.

Q: How often does he eat?  A: You mean it’s not supposed to be continuous?

Q: How often does he poop?  A: Whenever I put a clean diaper on him.

Thankfully the hospital sent me home with a couple packages of diapers.  More thankfully the hospital sent me home with a TON of diapers two years ago with Pretty Girl.  I cloth diapered her so I had some extras.  By week 3 we were out of our mountain and I started cloth diapering him as well. However, none of the diapers I had from his sister fit Little Man, so I got to work.

My first attempt was from a dolly pattern: (picture taken on Momma’s camera so check back later to see it).  That diaper was TOO small.

I altered the pattern a little and came up with this darling yellow diaper which he has now almost outgrown.  Too bad because he was absolutely thrilled with it as you can see.

I made two more and perfected my pattern then after my mom left I whipped up another 3.

My mom crocheted some popcorn (See  HERE) and made a baby (wait for the picture), we worked on stockings for Prince and Tackler which neither kid wants, and made Christmas and birthday presents for my niece which I can’t WAIT to show off.  There are hints for both in the bottom picture if my sister in law reads this.

How did I do all this sewing with a newborn who refuses to be set down?  I learned to hold a baby with no hands.  Trickier, I learned to sew with no hands. I even learned how to bounce a baby with my left leg while pressing the sewing machine pedal with my right foot.  When that becomes an Olympic sport I should be a shoo-in.

Mom and I crossed things off our list at a rate of one a week.  Which would have been okay except we added things at a rate of one a day.  I was searching the internet one night for brilliancy and exclaimed “Yeah!  I found my niece’s Christmas present.”  My mom said “Oh, good.  I thought we were going to have to make it!”  Maybe we would have accomplished more if we didn’t find each other quite so hilarious.  More fun pictures of my projects and my adorable baby to come.