Elephant

Don't mind the messy face. We had just finished breakfast, and I hadn't wiped Tralee's face clean (okay, maybe it was a while after breakfast and I STILL hadn't wiped her face clean. . .I'm not a model mother). In any case, Tralee found a nerf bullet, stuck it to her nose, and exclaimed, "I'm an elephant!"

The rest of the morning was spent listening to Tralee trumpet. If I asked her to do something, "Tralee, can you please pick up your crayons?" The reply I got was, "No, I not Tralee. I an eh-eh-phant" followed by a trumpeting sound. I'd try again by saying, "Okay. Elephant, can you please pick up the crayons?" The reply was still, "No."

So it seems both children and elephants dislike cleaning up after themselves.

Weird.

Sewing

While Jim was gone last week, I attempted to sew to keep myself entertained. I'm not a sewer. My mom is not a sewer. There was a sewing machine stored in our basement growing up, but it was never used (that I can remember), and eventually donated to a charity.

My Grandma Stoehr is sewer. When I was a little girl, my gifts from her were home-made cabbage patch dolls (which I still have), a home-made clown (which I also still have and I ADORED growing up), and other quilts, dolls, and animals. I sewed something with her once. She found a simple doll pattern, and helped me make it. She guided me through the process, and as we created a doll together, I listened to stories about when she used to work in a factory sewing things. She told me about when a needle went through someone's finger (it might have been hers, but I can't remember) and how her family didn't have very much money, so she ate lard and sugar sandwiches. In the end, I had a new home-made doll to take home and play with, and fond memories of my grandma. I didn't sew again until high school.

Me and the clown from Grandma Stoehr. I loved this thing so much she actually had to make three or four different outfits for it over the years because they became so worn. The original outfit is still my favorite though.

My junior year of high school I took a sewing class as an elective. I think it was only a six-week class. We were to pick a pattern, purchase the materials, and work on it during the hour long class sessions. It took me the full six weeks to make my two-hour dress pattern. I really didn't know what I was doing. I remember watching other classmates finish their first pattern, and even complete a few more during the six weeks. I watched as they showed up wearing their dresses to school. When I finished mine it was so ugly and unflattering (not to mention uneven) that it hung it my closet for a few months before it ended up with the fate as my mom's sewing machine.

A few years ago I got the sewing bug again. I was reading crafty blogs, and came across a pattern for a rag quilt. The directions said it was easy to accomplish, and very forgiving, so I took a stab at it. My MIL gifted me a little sewing machine and showed me how to use it. I literally couldn't thread a needle. Long story short, the quilt turned out okay. I made several mistakes (number one being that I didn't pre-wash the fabric, so that when I DID wash the quilt it fell apart and needed to be re-sewn), but luckily rag quilts are forgiving.

I didn't touch the sewing machine again (unless it was to move it out of the way) until last week. Jim was gone, and I needed something to get my mind off of my husband's absence. I've been a little addicted to Project Runway lately, and thought I should attempt clothes again. I figured I've watched enough wannabe designers assemble garments, that I could figure it out too (with a little help from u-tube and blog tutorials).

I purchased vintage sheets and fabric from thrift stores for my material. It was WAY cheaper than buying new fabric. Plus, I knew if I messed up I wouldn't be sad having wasted inexpensive vintage sheets. I started with some very simple skirts for Tralee and myself. It took me three tries before I didn't mess something major up. I also attempted a pillow-case dress for Stinks, but it's too big around her shoulders. I tried a sweater-vest for Hunter (made out of some of Jim's clothes we were going to donate to a thrift store), but the waist was too small and the shoulders were too big. The last thing I completed before Jim came home was a dress for Tralee. I drew out a pattern on newspaper, and went to town. There are about 100 mistakes, but luckily none of them are too noticeable unless you go looking for them. Overall, I pretty much love the outcome.

I was going to shorten the dress, but I actually like it at this length. It looks kind of 40's-50's-ish to me. Plus, Tralee can grow into it.

So, that's my sewing journey. The most important thing I learned about sewing is, the more you do it, the more you learn. . . and the more addictive it is. I keep thinking of more and more things I want to try and make. I've even pretended I'm actually good at this sewing thing, and drew out a few designs I want to try and make. How very Project Runway of me. I'm hoping I'll eventually get enough experience that not everything I make is laden with mistakes. Until then, I'll frequent thrift stores for my funky material and vintage patterns. I'll save places like Mood (drool) for the real designers.

Ice Cream, Anyone?

We really like Skinny Cow brand ice cream cones around here. Tralee especially enjoys one after dinner for her treat. Recently Tralee's been eating the top part of the cone (mainly just the ice-cream) and handing off the bottom part to Hunter. The pictures below are of Hunter's first REAL taste of his very own ice-cream cone. . . or the hand-me-down ice cream cone Tralee was no longer interested in. He didn't care, he was just excited to have something new to feed himself.

Yummy!

Don't you just want a lick? (said with sarcasm)

Hunter took a little break from the cone to eat some more strawberries. I was pleased.

One thing is for sure about Hunter. He'll eat (or at least try) just about anything you place before him.

Ice cream is no exception.

Tonight. . .

Jim comes home! I can hardly contain my excitement!!

It's been 10 long husband-less days.

Oh where oh where did my husband go?

Jim is in Oregon. Bringing home some bacon.

I really miss him. I miss him because I love him, but also because:

1. He does Hunter's poo change every morning and lets me stay in bed. Since he's been gone I've had to do the morning poo change. Yeah, not as fun as staying snug under the covers.

2. When I'm dealing with both kids at their nightly bath time, it's really nice to have Jim come take one, while I deal with the other. Yesterday I took Hunter out, and Tralee wanted to stay in the tub. It was only as soon as I was settling Hunter down for bed that Tralee announced she was ready to get out of the tub. This is usually when I would shout for Jim to come help Tralee, but I couldn't. . . cuz he's in Oregon.

3. I had to take out the garbage for pick up. Not a super big deal, but as I was pulling the garbage and recycling containers to the curb, it was just another reminder that I have a husband-less home for the time being.

4. Hunter is sick again. He's been waking up at 2:00 in the morning. It would be nice to have Jim here for some moral support, and to switch off getting up with the baby.

5. I can't sleep well when Jim's gone. I can't settle in for the night. I end up staying up too late. Then when I finally drift off. . . Hunter wakes up.

6. There's no one to cook for. I mean REALLY cook for. The kids don't appreciate the kind of food Jim does, so I don't want to go through a whole bunch of effort creating a meal only I'll enjoy and then have way to many leftovers. So. . . it's been sandwiches, carrot sticks, broccoli and dip, apple slices, spaghetti, grilled cheese, and any other easy thing I can chop and slap together for dinner.

7. Jim makes me laugh on a daily basis. I miss laughing with him over his stupid jokes.

8. There's a feeling of security when there's a man in the house. I heard a weird sound last night. This sound got my imagination going. Before I knew it, I was sure someone was about to sabotage me in my room. I scared myself silly. I also thought to myself that a baseball bat would be a handy thing to keep under my bed for when Jim's out of town.

9. I don't really get breaks away from the kids. Don't get me wrong, I love being with my kids. . . but everyone needs some time alone. On some nights when Jim gets home from work, I take the opportunity to go run errands sans kidletts. It's nice to step away from the house for an hour or so and feel like Leslie instead of Mommy. When Jim's gone, I don't get this time alone until the kids settle down for bed. By then I usually just want to crash too.

10. I miss watching Jim play with our kids. They adore their daddy, and his absence effects them too. I'll admit, Jim's the "fun parent" in this household. I try to compete with the title, and although I'm a contender, Jim takes home the gold for being the fun one. My babies miss the fun one.

So there you go. Ten reasons I miss Jim. One reason for each day he's gone, although I could come up with more. I really don't know how single moms do it. Kudos to them for staying sane.

Fools Day

Yesterday was April Fools' Day, and I didn't really do anything. I'm not good at pranking people. I get too nervous and end up laughing, thus completely giving away my trick. However, a few years ago I did this fake blog post. It was pretty funny to hear what people thought as they read it. Yeah, like I'd ever allow a snake in the house!

Although I didn't pull a prank on anyone, Jim did. Jim LOVES pushing people's buttons. He gets a thrill out of ticking people off, and nothing brings him more pleasure than when he fools someone. April Fools Day was probably invented by someone like Jim for people like Jim. I'm just lucky that his trickery was not aimed at me yesterday.

Yesterday Jim had to head out-of-town to do some business for his Uncle. The business involves selling jewelry. Jim loaded up his truck with jewelry at his Uncle's house, and then stopped to fill up with gas. While waiting for his tank to fill up, he called his Uncle, made sure he answered, and before saying anything directly into the phone, Jim acted like he was having a conversation with someone else and said, "No. . . my Uncle will come help me clean this up." Then he got on the phone and frantically told a made-up story about how he was side-swiped by an on-coming car. His truck was wrecked and thousands of dollars of jewelry was now spread out all over the road. After Jim hung up, he immediately texted, "April Fools!" to his uncle. Well. . . Jim's Uncle didn't get the text, because he was already out the door, on his way to help what he thought was a horrible accident. Long story short, Jim saw his Uncle heading in his direction, he flagged him down, shouted "April Fools," and probably chuckled about his trick the rest of the day. I was scared just listening to the story as Jim called to tell me about it, even though I knew it was all a hoax.

Some husbands are good at electronics, others are handy with cars, my husband has a way to get your heart racing with his tom-foolery.

Look-a-likes?

A lot of times people comment about how much Tralee looks like me, and how much Hunter looks like Jim. I actually think Hunter looks more like me, and Tralee looks more like Jim. Actually, both of our kids resemble my side of the family quite a bit, but Jim is in there too.

When I was in the young women's presidency in our old ward there were two sisters who adored my kids. They snatched Hunter up as soon as I walked into the room. I love people who love my kids. But that's besides the point. These sisters told me Tralee looked 60% me and 40% Jim. They thought Hunter was 80% me and 20% Jim. However, Jim constantly tells me the kids are clones of me.

Take a look for yourself. I made two collages. There are pictures of Jim, me, and the kids around the same age.

No matter who they look like, my munchkins are super stinken' cute.