Look What I Made!

I learned to crochet when I was 8 or 9 years old.  Nothing fancy - a hat for my doll, and a series of scarves that I'm sure my sisters dreaded getting for Christmas.  Over time I unfortunately forgot how to make hats, and stuck to scarves, blankets, and anything that was a rectangle/square shape.

Which brings us to today, and the giant pile of yarn that my husband has quite rightfully been bugging me to either use or get rid of.  I had been puttering around on Pinterest and some of the other blogs on blogspot, generally in awe of everyone else's crafting abilities.  (Have you seen some of that stuff?!?)  Anyway, I finally decided either I could spend the rest of my life crocheting scarves and wishing I could make something more interesting, or I could muddle through and experiment a bit.  I mean, it's yarn I'm working with here, not gold.  It's not like I can't rip the whole thing apart and start over again.

After some more puttering on Pinterest, I decided to make wrist warmers.  I figured I might as well start with Lowly - she's the smallest, and if I was going to have to redo the thing eight times, I'd rather do it on a small scale.  Besides, they looked relatively easy, and I was tired of going on a hunt for the mitten she had flung off somewhere in the car so she could wiggle her fingers.  This way her hands would be relatively warm, and I would look less like the mildly unorganized mother that I am.

The great thing about crocheting for a baby is that they can't tell you your work looks hideous.  The not so great thing is that they won't stay still long enough for you to measure anything, so I had to sort of eyeball the sizing.  Still, I think they're rather cute...

WeeBee apparently agrees, because he wants me to make a pair for him next.  So more pictures to follow!

Selective Command of the English Language

Why does it never fail that WeeBee, who uses words like "buoy" and "common sense" in the correct context, will suddenly pretend he has no idea what "WeeBee, please pass me the box of wipes!" means when I'm elbow deep in his sister's exploded poopy diaper?

I suppose I should get used to this.

Happy Valentine's Day

Forgot to get a gift for that special someone?  Never fear, the Bronx Zoo has got your back.

Nothing Says Love Like Hissing Roaches

Personally, I'm waiting for the MTA to start offering to name giant killer rats after your loved ones, but that's just me, my twisted sense of humor, and inherent distrust of rats brought on by reading Harry Potter at an impressionable age.  But let's save my list of phobias and suspicions for another day.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Where Have All the Green Beans Gone?

Baby Lowly is not a huge fan of mushy baby food, so I normally cook up some steamed vegetables and let her gnaw away on them.  Yesterday was green bean day.

As Lowly was finishing up her green beans, WeeBee started whining about wanting crackers.  Now, one of WeeBee's many little quirks is that he will not eat crackers that are just handed to him out of the package.  They must be placed in a bowl, or on a plate, otherwise there is much wailing and grinding of teeth and probably some flailing around on the floor.  I have absolutely no idea where he came up with the idea, but as he always throws his dishes in the sink when he's done, I live with it.

Wanting to save some time (and space in my dishwasher,) I reused Lowly's green bean bowl, which still had four or five beans at the bottom, half hoping he might finish the beans himself.  At the time, WeeBee didn't seem to care.  He had his three or four crackers, and life was good.

I went back to clearing off the counter, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed WeeBee chuck the bowl into the sink a few minutes later.  We then had the following conversation.

"WeeBee, did you finish the green beans?"
"No."
I looked in the sink.  Empty bowl, no green beans.
"Well, what happened to them?"
"I put them in Lowly's shirt."

You've heard of feeding your vegetables to the dog?  Well, when your sister is wearing a jumper that's a little big on her, and your dad assumes you're just standing at his elbow eating crackers and talking to your sister, and your mom has her back turned, you can take your vegetables and leave them in the folds of your sister's sweater/jumper/onesie.

At least he's honest.

Thought For the Day

If you wake up with a kink in your neck, under no circumstances should you decide it's a good idea to give your kids a bath that morning.  Well, unless your kids are covered in poop, which mine were not.  Because when you have to put your toddler in a headlock to get the bubbles out of his hair, you will want to curl up in a little ball and die.

Except, you won't be able to, because that would involve moving your head.

So don't say I didn't warn you.