Crafting

Even though I've had very little to say lately I have been trying to keep up with the crafting. I haven't been very successful, but I have done the following:

I had the overly ambitious goal of making 5 coordinating stockings for our new family of five. I got the pattern from this Scandinavian Needlecraft book:

I haven't done much embroidery at all in my life, but loved the look of the wool stockings in red and white. The three girls will have red stockings with the reindeer pattern, Chris and I will have the white stocking with the snowflake. I say will because I only got two done by Christmas. They were intended for Bela and Mae, but halfway through the snowflake embroidery Mae changed her mind and wanted Reindeer. So I put my name on the snowflake and altered the plans. Luckily Santa was not too confused.

I also whipped up another version of the baby camilla sweater I made last year for Leslie's baby. I think I was off on my gauge on that one, so I went down two sizes and it came out much better. Gil is still swimming in it, but she wears it almost every day. Yarn is Quince & Co. Love them.

I have another sweater on the needles for Gil, a wool and cotton blend. Thinking by the time I finish it will be too small, but that just means I have a future baby present ready and waiting.

I still need to get a shot of Gray sweater #3, from the series. You've seen #1 and #2, I'll unveil #3 when I have a camera, some sunlight, and a free hand. That's a tall order around here these days.

While we were in Sanibel Chris' mom treated us all to a visit to the Shell Museum. We have been to Sanibel 4 or 5 times now, and have always decided not to go because we were too cheap to pay to get in. But I was glad to see it this year--beautiful shells from all over the world, and a great little learning center for the kids. They also had a display on Sailor's Valentines. Have you heard of these? This was the first time I had ever heard of them or seen one, and I was smitten. You can see some images here, but Bela was asked to create one special valentine for her class this year. The teacher plans to distribute one valentine to each child, instead of having the kids (parents) make one for each student. I love the idea, and so, inspired by the beautiful displays at the museum, I collected many small shells just before leaving Florida and found this cute, sturdy little box, and am hoping I can convince Bela to glue all these little guys into a pretty heart design inside.

Ours will be a very, VERY simplified version of the real thing.

As Gil settles into a routine (she's sleeping at night like a champ. She must really love me) I'm slowly getting some pep back in my step. Hoping to dive into all sorts of craft endeavors in the weeks to come!

PS - if you think I'm the only one crafting around here, you're dead wrong. Chris' crafts have established a permanent residence on our dining room table. Model airplanes are all the rage with him right now, and he spends hours filing and painting and gluing. But lately, he and Bela have also been doing some diorama magic as well. He spent weeks working on a mountain and then handed it over to Mae so her dolls could play on it.

This Moment

A moment from our week we'd like to share. Have a great weekend, everyone!

Update

Sunset on Sanibel

The girls and I have been sick now for a month. A WHOLE MONTH. I'm not exaggerating. We are coughing up important bits and pieces--it feels like a scene out of a  Brontë' novel, and I half expect to pull my little hankie away from my pale lips and find that dots of blood have stained the linen. This was always a sign that consumption had nearly completed its dirty work and finished off the heroine.  

Ok, so maybe I don't have pulmonary tuberculosis, but this morning? Fever. Again. And snot. So much snot. A veritable factory, I am. The girls are on the up and up, especially Mae, who truly deserves a break. She has suffered the most and the longest, and had to visit a walk-in clinic during our vacation. The culprit? Most likely bronchitis, with secondary bacterial infection of some sort. The little blondies are both on antibiotics, and I am waiting for an opportunity to visit a doctor myself.

Chris and Bela fish

Mae walks the waters

But we tried not to let this ruin our recent trip to Sanibel Island, Fl. It was beautiful - gulf front condo with heated pool, and shells and critters galore. The little ladies spent their days catching hermit crabs, blue crabs, and lizards; making sand castles, gathering shells, playing with dead sea stars. Our screened in porch smelled like beach death by day 7.

Bela, in true Bela form, made about 10 new friends, at least enough to throw a real birthday party in our condo on her special day (she's 7!). Curiously this time they were almost all boys, and Bela earned the title of girlfriend #44 from her favorite - a little cutie from, wait, where were they from? I can't remember, but we almost never saw her as she was busy playing tennis, beach combing, blowing bubbles, spraying silly string, and trying to catch baby birds with a fake nest with her new friends.

Chris always manages to escape the plague

We brought both grandmas with us this time, my mom and Chris', and are really grateful for the time alone with them and the time they got to spend with the kids. Hope they feel the same way still :)

So here we are, back in Chicago, 5 inches of snow on the ground and a pounding headache. The girls have a nice tan, Chris a touch of sun. Me? I went from gray (thanks, Mom) to pukey. I think that was an improvement...?

Convalescing in the sun

Happy winter!

This moment

Have a great weekend!

This moment

Add caption

Gone fishing

This hardworking baby needed a VACATION! We were only too happy to oblige. We are in Sanibel for the week, right on the gulf. Chris is hoping to catch some fish, Bela and Mae are hoping to catch some lizards. The grandmas are hoping to catch some sun, and I'm hoping to catch some sleep. We'll talk later.

Survival

Gil - a rare wakeful moment

If you're little and you're cute, there are some important things you need to learn if you want to survive in this household. Be kind, but not too nice. Don't make yourself too interesting. Don't show any interest in the other members of the household.

Gilli is a master at this. She came into this world with certain survival skills, and they have only been reinforced these last 5 weeks. Her main line of defense is sleep - 20 out of the 24 hours in each and every day. And those 4 hours of wakeful activity? She spends them with her face in my breasts, or on the changing table, or tied to me in a wrap, or strapped to Chris in the sling. Or crying.

Gil asleep in gray sweater #2

Gil asleep

Although the girls think she is cute, they have for the most part lost interest in her.  Bela's constant requests to "hold her standing up" have dwindled. Every time she got Gil in her arms she would take off across the house, with me scampering after. Mae no longer tries to bathe her, dress her,  or shove her finger in Gil's mouth.

Mae has learned to keep a certain distance

Little John (may he rest in peace, outside under that rock) was also very adept at survival. But he died, you say. Yes, yes this is true. But he lived 2 1/2 years under the same roof as Bela and Mae before he met his tragic (but totally anticipated and foreseen) end.How? He was a biter, and a fast runner, and skilled at the art of escape.

Enter Ethan and Mason. I haven't said much about our two new hamsters, but only because I didn't really get a chance to before tragedy struck again. During Little John's final months on this planet, Chris and I happened to make a lot of trips to Ikea in Bolingbrook, Il. Adjacent to the parking lot is an aquarium store with a full line of pets for sale. We could always get our girls to agree on a trip to Ikea if we promised a visit with the "friendly hamsters", this crazy nice kind that was being bred and sold in said aquarium store. They let you hold them, they don't bite, they don't run away, they don't squeak, and when they do happen to slip out of your fingers (or fall from your pocket, where they are happy to ride) they don't so much run away as saunter.

Mae and Mason, just moments before his demise

There was no way they were going to last in our house.

At any given moment during their short tenure on Thomas St. you would turn around and find Mae with Mason on her shoulder, Bela with Ethan in her pocket. The girls built cardboard mansions for them, hamster daycares were constructed out of hollow stepstools. There seemed to be no end to the rodent fun until two weeks ago: Bela had snatched up the coveted Mason (Mae's hamster was somehow even nicer than Bela's) and was headed down our hallway to her bedroom. Mason, as usual, was riding on her shoulder, when he took a sudden and unexpected tumble to the hallway floor. Bela, unaware of his fall, was horrified to discover him under her foot on her next step toward the bedroom.

I was nursing Gil in the bedroom when I heard Bela scream. She ran into the room with a squirming Mason in her hands, tears in her eyes.

Something is wrong with him!

At that moment he started convulsing, a grotesque drop of blood oozed from his nose and his little rodent body went limp. She knew instantly. No one needed to tell Bela that her (sister's) beloved hamster had just died in her palm.

After a lot of tears and some serious talks about death and protecting the wee ones in our lives, after prepping his body for a funeral (throwing him in the lid of a cardboard box) the girls promptly lost interest in him once again, before the services could even take place. In fact, I think Chris may have just tossed little Mason in the backyard garden, without a word, without the girls.

no love loss here

These days, Ethan spends a lot of time alone in his cage. Though I have no hope that he will change his nice ways, I'm pretty sure the girls will forever be more gentle with his kind. Needless to say, however, Bela is no longer allowed to "hold Gilli standing up."

PS - After reading the initial publication of this post, Chris insisted that I let the record state that he sent Mason off with a proper burial. After many attempts to get the girls to write poems and draw pictures, he alone dug a hole in the yard, put Mason in his little box, covered him with dirt. At night. In the rain. With help from no one.

This moment

A beautiful day, beautiful moment.