on again off again

So I haven't been blogging. Perhaps you noticed? It started with baking and frosting 250 mini cupcakes, turned into a week-long Montessori conference (in Honeyville!), and culminated with being seduced by the sewing machine. I have some pretty sweet fruits from my labors, but I sort of have a really tumultuous, hot then cold relationship with the sewing machine. I sew myself into a frenzied passion for about a week and then don't even glance in the sewing machine's direction for months. I think I'll be back to blogging regularly now until the sewing love affair resumes in oh, probably June. 

If you live in Utah and have small children please tell me you know about Babinski's Baby. I love almost every single thing in that store, but most of it is WAY out of my price range. My mom and I were there a couple of weeks ago and I spotted some darling little vests by Sandbox Rebel. I loved the casual, almost punkish look of the vests. But they were $35.00 for one little tiny vest. Anyway, I showed my mom and then I was like, "I could totally make one of these." Which at the time was all talk because I'm not a talented or experienced seamstress at all, but I knew I could figure it out. So the vest became my mission. I found a pattern that I sort of liked (in case you were wondering, finding patterns for boys' vests is a nightmare), altered it a little so the shape was more what I wanted, found the material (not exactly what I was going for, but it worked), and spent an afternoon ignoring my child, poor little thing. But he got a vest out of it! And it turned out better than I was expecting, so I went to Saver's and got some mens' suit coats for 99 cents that I can cut up and make some more out of. I'm pretty happy about it. Here is the vest:

(it has three different kinds of material-- the front is one thing, the back is another, and the lining is another)

Here is Baby G sporting his new apparel:

Since I was in the relationship with the sewing machine, I decided to go ahead and make an apron for Baby G. I have been wanting one for a while because he loves to help me cook and I knew he'd love one, but I hadn't found any cute ones for boys. I found some cowboy material and went to work. 

He especially loves the pocket. He likes to put mints in it and get one out to eat whenever he wants.

There were a few other items on the sewing agenda, but this is what you get for today. I have a few more blog posts brewing, so hopefully it won't be too long.

elmie

Baby G has a rather endearing habit of adding -ie (or -y, depending on how he spells it) to the end of many of his words. If something is cold, it's "coldie" or "freezy." His hammer is "hammy," his uncles Adam and Ben are "Andy" and "Bendie." Juice is "juicy," medicine is "medicie," and balls are "ballsy." And that's just naming a few. 

Naturally when we introduced him to Elmo, Baby G quickly took to calling him "Elmie." Makes perfect sense. When he first learned of Nemo, Baby G also called him "Elmie." I tried and tried to get him to say "Nemo," but it has always been "Elmie." I realized that "Elmo" and "Nemo" sound very much alike, so that explained why Baby G thought of them as the same name. So even though "Nemo" doesn't really sound like "Elmie," it is an understandable and forgivable nickname. 

But then there is Baby G's cousin, Logan. Ever since we started having Baby G try to say Logan's name, he was "Elmie." At first we thought he wasn't understanding what we were asking, but then it became obvious that "Elmie" meant "Logan" when Baby G started pointing at pictures of Logan and confidently labeling him "Elmie!" So it has stuck. We have absolutely no clue how "Logan" became "Elmie," but nonetheless, it has. We even try to break up the syllables to get Baby G to say, "Lo- Gan," but he outsmarts us by replying, "Lo-Gan, ELMIE!" So that's that, I guess. Elmie it is. He speaks in sentences and amazes us all the time by the funny little things that come out of his mouth, but for some reason he just can't seem to get past the idea that Elmo, Nemo, and Logan are all "Elmie."

 

Elmie and Baby G are getting along really well lately (Elmie is 4 months older and he used to like to beat Baby G up), and it is so much fun to know that they will grow up together and be best buddies. 

But old habits die hard, and occasionally some of the rough behavior from days gone by return, and Elmie decides to try and squeeze Baby G's hand off instead of just holding it gently. I love both of their expressions in this picture-- Elmie is in attack mode and Baby G is wide-eyed and surprised by the sudden violence, but not too concerned.

Elmie turned two a couple of weeks ago and we went for a swim to celebrate. Elmie is adventurous and brave so he had to teach the more timid Baby G the ways of water splashing, but they both had so much fun there together once Baby G warmed up.

I love this picture. Love it. Love the water splashing, love how hard we're laughing, love that it is me and my boy.

The expression on Baby G's face is pretty awesome.

I have a feeling this is only the beginning of hundreds of pictures like this one of these two little boys playing together.

Brave birthday boy Elmie jumping to his daddy.

Another party guest, sweet little Maggie. I just loved her little closed mouth smile and sparkley eyes in this picture.

Birthday boy and his mommy.

Grandma taught Baby G how to "swim." He was proudly doing the breaststroke all around the pool and the next day in the tub he started practicing again and said, "Swimming wif Gamma."

Thanks for the fun, Elmie. Please don't be mad when you are 16 and we still call you "Elmie," okay? It is here to stay, I'm afraid.

two peas

Sometimes I am genuinely scared to have another child. Baby G has been such a breeze thus far--I have been spoiled, and I know that my odds of getting another go-with-the-flow, make-my-life-so-easy kind of kid are slim. Perhaps one of the reasons that we get along so well is that he is so much like me. His personality mirrors mine (and his daddy's really-- we are all very much alike), and I think that makes it easy on me because chances are if I want to do something, Baby G probably would enjoy it, too (except for blogging. Baby G does NOT like me to spend time on the computer). Anyway, we really are two peas in a pod. 

 

He has my eyes, and even though he is starting to look more and more like his daddy, I love that I can see some of me in him.

He loves watching basketball (or any sport with balls). I love that we can continue to do things we like and Baby G can just come along (though we did need to have snacks in tow. And lest you think I am a perfect mother you should know that by the 4th quarter the strawberries and chocolate milk had deteriorated into Red Vines and gummy worms).

He entertains himself so I can get things done around the house or get ready for the day. I often find him in his room on the rocking chair reading a book. (Don't get the wrong idea completely, though. I also often find him in the living room throwing balls at my decorations, but hey, at least I can get ready, right?)

He eats whatever I eat. He loves the mahi-mahi with brown rice from Rumbi, an I LOVE that I don't have to order something yucky just so Baby G can share it with me.

He also eats veggie pizza like a pro. 

But he sometimes picks off the spinach.

One more little thing: he sends himself to his room if he does something naughty. I have reserved time-outs for situations where I have already given him a warning not to do something and he still does it (that is how I was able to keep my Christmas tree ornaments on the tree this past year). Time-out consists of me taking him to his room, sitting him on the floor, shutting the door and leaving for about 15 seconds. Any longer than that and he will forget why he is there and it will lose any effectiveness. When I go back in his room I talk to him about what happened and he says sorry and gives me a hug and we go on our merry way. This has been VERY effective and I have actually only had to do it 3 or 4 times. Anyway, the other day we were playing in my bedroom and he found a glass cup that had about an inch of water left in it from the night before. He picked it up and started drinking it and then casually threw the glass to the floor, spilling the remaining water on the carpet. I quickly went over to him and told him that it wasn't okay to throw cups when he was done with them. He said, "Okay, Mama," and that was going to be the end of it (because it's not like he has disobeyed or anything, I hadn't told him not to throw the cup). Instead he looked at me with earnest eyes and said, "Room?" I said, "You don't need to go in your room, just don't throw the cup again." But he insisted, "Room." So I said, "If you think you need to go to your room you can, but it's okay if you stay here with me if you want." He quickly turned and ran to his room and shut the door. I was giggling to myself and had to go in and see if he really was in self-imposed time-out or if he just went in to play. Sure enough, he was sitting in the middle of the room with his little arms folded just waiting for me to come tell him it was okay. I love this little boy and I hope that his conscience stays this active his whole life.