ALERT: Jackspeak

Dinner is finished. We're full. Jack has been asked to finish two more bites of his salad and all of his milk before leaving the table.

Jack: "But after I'm done with salad will you put my milk in a sippy cup so I can drink it in the living room?"

Me: "Sure, sweetie. That's fine."

"I love you, mom."

"I love you too, bean."

"You are the best of all the mommies. I will love you always and even after you die."

"Well, thank you, but I hope you won't have to worry about that for awhile."

"And I will write a note about it. And I will glue it on your stone."

"My stone?"

"Yes. The stone that lays over you when you die."

"Oh, yes. My gravestone, okay. What will the note say?"

"You are the best of all the mommies and I love you so, so much."

"Well I would just love that on my stone. Thank you."

"You get the paper and I'll get the glue."

"First things first. Two more bites."

Baby Quilt "Friday!": Hugs and Kisses

Baby Quilt "Friday!" continues this week with "Hugs and Kisses," quilt #16 from The Little Box of Baby Quilts. It's the quilt that gave me and "she"--Mrs. Traditional Quilting, that is--a chance to meet. By the time the quilt was done, "she" was rolling her eyes at me, shaking her head in disappointment. Oops.

From The Little Box of Baby Quilts, copyright 2007 Jenny Wilding Cardon/That Patchwork Place. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown.

Color-wise, this was a fun quilt to put together. Start with a multicolored fabric, and then pull eight fabrics to match--one "X" and one "O" per fabric. Construction-wise, I could have made things easier for the end user. See those half-square triangles that make up the outer edges of the "X" and "O" blocks? Well, here's the thing. They're all half-square triangles. ALL of them. I didn't use the fancy tricks that traditional quilters now use to make those units easier. You experienced quilters know what I'm talking about--those parts of quilt blocks that give the illusion of two units, when you really only made one? Yeah, those. Phooey.

I was smart enough to make the half-square triangles two at a time, thank heavens. I was familiar with that trick. Just not the even-better tricks. I'll tell you what, though. I am gosh-dang-it good at matching points now. Gosh-DANG-it good.

I recently tried this quilt out with my boys. Little Charlie loves the colors. He keeps touching the multicolored fabric with his pointer finger like he could pick out some of the colors and give them a taste. Jack, while walking from the living room to the kitchen, often takes a moment to jump on either the "X" or the "O" blocks. Just a quick jaunt before he goes on doing whatever it is he is doing.

A few days ago I cursed the quilting heavens above because Jack spilled hot chocolate all over this quilt. Wait. He didn't spill it. He splashed it. Splattered it. Drenched it. The one quilt I was a bit afraid of getting dirty, mostly because of the white and the red fabrics in it.

So came the true test of a keeper quilt. I washed it.

Cozier. Cuddlier. And completely clean! This one's a keeper.

Mrs. Traditional Quilting, I implore you--share your secrets of the past with me in the future. I'm ready to listen. I'm ready to learn. (But no rough stuff, please. Rulers on the cutting mat are okay with me. Just not on my knuckles.)

You can see more quilts from the "little box" here, watch a video about it here, and read more about each quilt here.

Next "Friday" comes quilt #17 out of 20. My favorite quilt out of the whole bunch, called "Long-Tailed Lions." Mostly it's my favorite because I drafted the pattern eight times and sewed it three times before I got it right. You gotta be extra proud of those kind of quilts. You're not gonna work for me, quilt? You ain't gonna do what I wantcha to do? You think you've kicked my butt? Ha, you are WRONG, quilt. I'm gonna kick YOUR butt.

And so I did.

Looking forward to sharing next "Friday!"

Inauguration art

During our own little inaugural celebration today, a crayon portrait of the new first family was created:

I offered to tape the portrait in our front window. Jack insisted that instead, we send it to President Obama. And so we will.

Hope, personified. Here in our home. Happy inauguration day. Happy day.

No strip. But a whole lotta tease.

The pincer grasp can take considerable time for babies to master. It's a daily process of practice makes perfect, really. Charlie's been using bits of cereal for his rehearsals. He's getting pretty good at it.

But sometimes he drops the gooey bits in the unlikeliest of places.

Since the womb, I had a feeling you were gonna be a good dancer, baby.

I just didn't expect you'd want to become a professional one.

ALERT: Jackspeak

Jack, Charlie, and I sit down at the kitchen table for lunch. As I aim a spoonful of mashed bananas toward Charlie's mouth, his energetic hands bat it away. Bananas fling onto the floor, the chair, and Charlie's hand.

Me: "Oh good heavens, Charlie."

Jack: "What does good heavens mean?"

"Well, it's just an expression to use when you're surprised, and maybe a little bit annoyed. Like oh my heck, or holy moly."

"Or holy crap?"

In a matter of miliseconds, I review the five W's to carefully weigh my answer:

WHO did he hear that expression from?
WHAT is the proper definition of "crap"?
WHEN is it a good time to accept that your son is going to say "holy crap!" on a regular basis? (The parenting books don't say.)
WHERE is a sponge so I can clean up this sticky mess?

And finally . . .

WHY are you making such a big deal out of this? Holy crap, Jenny.

"Yes, exactly like holy crap. It's just an expression."

A winter wonderland. But not for snowmen.

Did you know that Utah has the greatest snow on earth? It's true. Our license plates say so. Skiers and snowboarders come from around the world to visit us. Olympians train here. Oh, yes--we even hosted an Olympics here. Why? Because our snow isn't what you think of when you think of snow. Snow is cold. Wet. Heavy. Icy. Slushy. But not our snow. Not Utah snow. (Well, okay. It is cold.)

We have what you might call "desert" snow. Pick it up in your hand and it doesn't clump. You can scatter it like crystal-candy sprinkles on a cupcake. It's DRY. It's like powder. It's like really super frozen . . . sand. Yes. In fact, it's like having a sandy beach right in our front yard. Except the temperature is suited more toward polar bears. And you must wear at least four layers of clothing over your bathing suit. Plus snow boots with at least two pairs of socks. And you must be sure to walk slowly and surefootedly, lest you slip on a patch of un-snow-blowed sidewalk and break something. Something important. And there is no beach volleyball. Ever. Aside from that, it is exactly like a sandy beach. Right in our front yard!

Anyhoo, in celebration of Grandma Sophie's annual holiday visit, we decided to venture outside in our bathing suits--along with a mountain of assorted wooly and downy cover-ups--to build a snowman. How charming. How idyllic. What a great excuse to enjoy some traditional wintertime fun! Out we trudged.

Jack the four-year old quickly picked up a handful of snow and attempted to mold it into a snowball. Ah, a snowball fight. That's the spirit--wonderful idea! He squeezed the snow in his gloved palm and then released his fingers. A spatter of powdery specks fell to the ground.

Snow, yes. But no ball. No snowball.

Jack looked at his grandma. With both hands, Grandma scooped up a mound of snow and squeezed. Half of it quickly blew away in the gentle mid-morning wind. The other half she let silently fall to the ground.

"We can't make a snowman out of this," she said. "It doesn't stick together!"

Indeed. Lots and lots of snow. But no way to build a man out of it. Or was there?

Out of the necessities of a Utah winter, I give you our best shot at a snowman. Introducing . . .

FLAT SNOWMAN.

Run over by a Mack truck? Pummeled by a pro-wrestler? Flattened by a steam roller? The story behind Flat Snowman's flatness remains a mystery. It couldn't be that tragic of a story, though. I mean, he looks happy enough. And he's still sporting a completely three-dimensional nose.

Took about two minutes to build Flat Snowman. Then we headed back in to remove the mountain of woolies and downies. (Took about four times as long for that task.) Checked in on Flat Snowman this morning. Obviously, we've had more snow fall since that day:

Thank you, Flat Snowman, for making this winter more magical. Just the teeniest-tiniest of a smidge more magical, really. But still. Thank you.

Baby Quilt "Friday!": Checkerboard Game Quilt

Hey, it's "Friday!" Time for another story about a quilt from The Little Box of Baby Quilts. Last "Friday" I posted about the quilt "Sad Days, Hippie Days." I reread my post a few days later and noticed that I shared almost nothing about the quilt. I just shared a whole bunch of stuff about my husband. Funny how quilts, once they are made, become less about how you made them and more about the people who inspired them. I think that's what makes quilts so unique. The stitched-in stories. 

But for our purposes this week, I'll get back to telling a "story" about how this quilt came about, called "Checkerboard Game Quilt."

From The Little Box of Baby Quilts, copyright 2007 Jenny Wilding Cardon/That Patchwork Place. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown.

Truth be told, the idea for this quilt was stolen by me from my sister-in-law. Kind of. She had received a knitted blanket featuring a checkerboard pattern as a Christmas gift. I wanted to make a baby quilt that also had a function for older children. The idea fit right into my quest.

The quilt design itself is nothing new; a simple checkerboard pattern in contrasting colors. (Although machine quilter Cheryl Brown did a wonderful job of quilting the word "CHECKERS" on each blue border. So cool.) It's the checkerboard game pieces that are kind of different and fun. Rice and buttons and a bit of raw-edge sewing. Surprisingly durable. And, with the four-year-old at the helm, surprisingly versatile. We used them for a hula-hoop toss game at Jack's birthday party. And we regularly employ them in counting, stacking, and patterning games, and as general mess makers that are easy to clean up. And as indoor flying saucers. 

Oh, yes, I almost forgot--we are learning to use them as checkers, too.

You can see more quilts from the "little box" here, watch a video about it here, and read more about each quilt here.

Next "Friday" comes the most traditional quilt in the bunch of 20 from the "little box." It's called "Hugs and Kisses." Once I finished it, I realized how much easier I could have made it. Pooh. Me and tradition aren't the best of friends. We're more like awkward coworkers who wander into the same corner at the same time at the annual Christmas party. We've seen each other around, but beyond that there ain't much to say. 

I think I really need to find her cubicle. You know, for next time. Head on over, say hi, introduce myself. Start a friendly conversation. Charm her. Try to get her to remember me. So next time I won't end up feeling like a quilting idiot.

Yes yes yes. It's settled. I must properly meet her. I'll put it on my to-do list.