Abby’s going in for her 9 month appointment this morning… I’m guessing she weighs 24 pounds…. Let you know.
Remember I said the crib was not gonna last through another baby? Yup, it died today. After putting Abs down for her nap, I went downstairs, leaving the boys playing with Legos quietly in their bedroom. 4.2 minutes later, giant crash, and I go flying upstairs.
Abby’s crib is in two pieces, the headboard is off the body, the matress is hanging by two of the hooks, and Abby is rolling around in the mess, thinking this is great fun. The boys are nowhere to be seen. Crickets.
I check Abby, she is fine; her rollie pollie little self seems to think this was a great adventure. “Boys?” in my sternest voice… they seem to have become invisible. It’s a common problem in our house lately- Jeffrey thinks if he moves slow enough, I can’t see him, and is genuinely surprised when I catch him being naughty.
Both boys come out from under their beds, knowing they’re in Trouble. Beanie pipes up right away, “I did it mama! I was jumpin’ in Abby’s bed and I broke it!” Jeffrey has the life-experience to know that all is not happy or well in Mama’s world, and looks sheepish.
We sit down and have a little chat about responsibility -to which Jeff’s primary concern is will he be grounded for a week- and why leaving Abby in a broken crib to hide was a worse mistake than breaking the crib. I hope I got through to them. No grounding necessary.
Here’s the really crummy part: now we have to do something about the crib- it’s not like a 9-month old is really ready to move to a big-girl bed, and since both my DH and my OB say “No more babies!”, we can’t justify buying another one… what to do, what to do? Looks like I’ll be paying a visit to Craigslist. *sigh*
Ok, here are a couple of my quilt designs. What I do is work with a fabric manufacturer, take fabric that will be coming out, and create a quilt using my own drawings, from scratch, using the new line of fabric. It’s fun because I get my fabric for free, it’s all new stuff that isn’t in stores yet, and I own the copyright on all my patterns. Then, I write a pattern for the quilt, and they are for sale in retain quilt stores in different parts of the country. It’s fun, and I can do it from home with kids being maniacs all around me. I have 24 designs currently available, and four more currently in the hopper.
The flag says: “And this land shall be a Land of Liberty”. The bunny one is a poem, embroidered on organic flax linen about babies going to sleep. The red heart quilt says “Love is Spoken Here” and in each heart a word about my kids, and the bottom right quilt, the four animals are looking at a little beaded caterpillar crawling on the flower…. whose going to eat him first?!
My poor waif of a girl is getting a quilt. Both my boys have quilts- several, actually, but poor Abby, the neglected third child, has none. I’m breaking down and making her one, finally. Maybe it’ll be done by the time the crib breaks and we have to transfer her pudgy bottom to a big-girl bed… later this summer?
At the current rate of decline, the crib won’t likely even make it that long. Beanie has discovered a way to climb in, and uses the crib for his own personal winter-sporting arena, including but not limited to, trampoline acrobatics and back flipping. The headboard had to be hammered in with one of DH’s work boots the other day, seeing as how the dovetails had shaken loose. Norm would not have been proud.
Here’s a version of the quilt I’m working on:
It’s by one of my favorite quilt artists, Barri Sue Gaudet. Regular quilts terrify me. All that freakin’ matching! Ugh. Can’t do it. But this one I can do- I love that every single piece of fabric is different. I just can’t be bothered with matching everything. Matching things weirds me out, anyway. I’ve seen women in the stores I work with crying because they need just that much more fabric, and it RUINS their whole quilt if it’s not perfect. It’s not something I can relate to. At all.
In my fabric designs, I love to throw in something unexpected. There was a design I was working on for fall, all the colors were very autumn-y, and it just wasn’t working… until I tossed some bright purple in with the orange- and ta-da- it was fabulous.
I’ve already tweaked Barri Sue’s design here, turning into a single Irish Chain, and messing up the colors some, but I think it’ll be lovely. Besides, my poor girl needs a blankie… guilt can be a powerful motivator!
Holy cow, I’m totally going out to buy the new Christina Aguilera CD! I never thought words like that would exit my mouth, but I just saw a clip from her performing on Leno last night- and Oh My Goodness!
(First off, she has clothes on, and looked down right darling in a 40’s inspired outfit)
It’s a big-band, Glen Miller Orchestra inspired album, and the first single is totally rockin! And her vocals are STRONG and excellent. Wow. Give the girl her due, now that she’s grown up a bit and is married, maybe there’s hope, eh?
A few years back, there was a band called Suicidal Tendencies, and they had this song about things being Lovely- you can probably guess from their name that “lovely” was subjective, and not necessarily a floral centerpiece.
That song is playing on a loop in my brain today, as I try and redefine my expectations of what “lovely” means…
Lovely is the new treadmill we purchased yesterday, mocking me from the family room to come and walk many miles upon it… Because I have more than made up the weight I barfed out while preggers with Abby.
Lovely is the spilled grape juice on the couch as we are late for school and I don’t have time to clean it properly, ensuring a permanent blurple blotch on the couch… Because it is Lovely that we have both a couch, and the money to buy grape juice.
Lovely are the shouts of pain and wails of fury as my boys fling tinker toys at one another after a rousing indulgence of chocolate cupcakes… Because it is Lovely that they have strong little bodies and even stronger wills.
Lovely are the wads of toilet paper I get to fish from the downstairs potty after Beanie decided to wipe his own hinie… Because it is Lovely that he isn’t using diapers anymore.
Lovely are the Frankenstein-ish scars I carry from birthing three babies in 4 1/2 years… because it truly is a miracle that babies are ever born at all, let alone so often and so perfectly.