The winner. And the loser wins too.

I'm thrilled to announce that Amy from Heber City, Utah, is the winner of the little blogiversary contest I held last week. Congratulations, Amy--I hope you enjoy The Little Box of Baby Quilts and the quilt I'm sending as well.

I didn't have as many contest entries as I had anticipated for giving away a quilt. In fact, only two people entered. Two. How do you choose a random winner from TWO entries? I had to get a little creative.

I wrote the names of both commenters on separate pieces of paper. I folded up each paper and threw them over the deck into the backyard. 

Then I had Jack fetch one of the papers for me.

And that's how Amy won.

Jenn from Independence, Kansas, gets a copy of the "little box" just for playing. That's one nice thing about only having two entries--I can easily end up with two winners. (Hey, looky me. I found the bright side!) Thank you, both of you, for entering.

ALERT: Jackspeak

After several conversations about first and last names, Jack surprises me with a 12-inch toy lizard in the bathroom...

"Mommy look, it's Godzilla! So his last name is Zilla, and his first name is God."

Seventeen days late and four posts short

No, no, no, no no no . . . not seventeen days late THAT way.

My blogiversary was two Saturdays ago. I've now spent one year out here in bloggerspace. My goal was to post 100 times during my first year. I posted 96 entries. Hey, not bad for a mama times two!

So, in celebration of my little 'ol milestone, I give you a little 'ol contest. Well, just a random drawing, really. Leave a comment on this post--about anything you like--and you'll be entered to win not only a signed copy of my book (but actually, it's a box), The Little Box of Baby Quilts, but an actual QUILT from the "little box," too!

This is the quilt up for grabs:

"Elementary!" by Jenny Wilding Cardon. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown. Finished quilt: 42 1/2" x 58 1/2".

It's a pretty big quilt for a baby quilt--size-wise, it'll last a kid through their preschool years. So if you have a toddler or preschooler who is beginning to learn their ABCs and 123s, post! Just leave your comment by Friday, June 20, 2008 to be eligible for the giveaway.

I look back on some of my 96 posts and wince. Some posts I'm proud of (like this one and that one and this recent one, and some of my favorite Jackspeaks, here and there). But mostly, I see how much can change in a year. Namely, a little boy named Jack. And a big girl named Jenny.

On the other hand, in my debut post I used phrases like "pee my pants" and the distinctive Utah slang of "Oh my heck!" So, some things never change.

If you have a good home for the quilt above, I beg you--please post. I really do want her to land somewhere where she'll be loved. Good luck!

Now, on to year two.

ALERT: Jackspeak

With potty humor now at full-tilt in our home, Jack practices the fine art of joke-telling.

Jack: "Mom, why did the sheep cross the road?"

Me: "I dunno. Why?"

"Because he wanted to go pee-pee on the balloon."

[silence]

"Jacky, that's the weirdest joke I've ever heard."

"Awesome!"

Decorum? Deceased.

There’s life before children, and life after children. After children, you’re still the same old you—you just start playing life by different rules. Less stringent rules. Whenever and wherever you can.

When I realized I had modified yet another rule I had previously adhered to my entire life (see first bullet below), I started thinking about all the rules I have adjusted to fit my mama lifestyle. There are things I’d never done, never heard, and never experienced before I had children. Here are just a few of them—the few I could share and still keep things fairly sanitized, anyway.

• Wore a pair of underwear two days in a row because the laundry was so backed up.
  
• Decided it was okay to shuffle out to the curbside mailbox in my jammies. (We’re talkin’ Utah here, folks. The axis of modesty.)
  
• Taken my bra off and given it to a child so he could wear it, just for fun.
  
• Colored my toenails with magic markers. Five different colors per foot, even.
  
• Explained what “placenta” is to a three year old.

Yes. This is a drawing of placenta. I was told by the three year old.

• Learned the name of every superhero IN THE UNIVERSE. And each of their special powers. And each of their everyday names--you know, the names they use when they aren't being superheroes.

• 
  

  Exposed my breasts at the dinner table. (Hey, Charlie’s gotta eat, too.)

  
  
• 
  

  Stared at a sleeping baby’s face, fingers, and toes—then looked up to find that 45 minutes had gone by.

  
  
• 
  

  Left the hair dryer on for a solid ten minutes AFTER drying my hair because it stopped a baby from crying.

  
  
• 
  

  Had someone happily yell to me from the bathroom, “Yay, I pooped! Now come wipe my butt.”

  
  
• 
  

  Wiped someone else’s butt.

  
  
• 
  

  Created a Spiderman-themed sticker chart for someone in order to get them to do whatever I wanted.

  
  
• 
  

  Had someone cut up one of my quilts with scissors.

  
  
• 
  

  Been told “I love you!” so many times in the span of a day.

So, yes. My sense of decorum has died, at least partly. I still insist on a bath each morning. I still believe in a clean kitchen. And I still remember to brush my teeth almost every day. There’ll be plenty of time to relearn the rules of etiquette in the years to come.

Oops. I forgot. I guess it’s also up to me to teach those rules, isn't it? Well, I guess I can guarantee that at least one etiquette rule will never be broken by my boys. I’m the only one who will ever be flashing my boobs at the dinner table.

ALERT: Jackspeak (to melt my heart)

While getting ready for a family birthday party, baby Charlie lets us know he doesn't particularly want to go--by crying and then crying some more. I decide to stay home with the baby while Daddy and Jack head out for a night of partying.

Jack: "Mommy, please go to the party."

Me: "Well honey, I'd really like to go but I need to stay home with Charlie. He needs to stay home and I need to stay with him."

"Please go. Because you're my best."

"I am?"

"Yes. You are my best, and Daddy is my best and Charlie is my best."

"Oh, that's good. We're all your best."

"Yeah. But you are my MOST best. You are my MOST best, but not Daddy and Charlie."

"You sweet pea. You are my most best, too."

Feeling a tad guilty about the omission of Daddy and Charlie. But not that much.