Stellar Parenting

I had one of those stellar parenting moments yesterday. We were having an awful Monday, but at some point I managed to spend a few minutes alone in the front yard, cutting lilac blooms, while Cash used his stamps at the kitchen table. A moment of peace.

It was short-lived because our trashy neighbors (you know the ones) decided to spend that 5 minutes yelling at their 3 year-old across the street. They sat on the front steps (as they do most of every day) watching their son cry a few houses down because his new training-wheeled bike was stuck in the mud and he needed help.

They kept yelling, "You can do it! Figure it out!"

But not in that nice, encouraging way. More in that, "I don't want to get off my butt to help you, so you're on your own, kid" sort of way.

For a moment I tried to be understanding. Maybe their day was going as poorly as mine was. Toddlers can drive you insane. But pretty quickly my sympathy turned to, "get off your butt and help your kid!"

And then I came inside and brought my high horse with me. And there was Cash. Stamping. And he immediately whined and asked me to help him get one of my stamps out of the box. He couldn't do it. He was stuck.

And I said, "Just use the other stamps." Because I was too busy with my lilacs to help him.

He asked me a few more times in that screechy, whiny voice. And as I walked upstairs to put my sweet-smelling lilac blooms in the bathroom I snapped something like, "You can do it! Figure it out!"

I immediately saw the irony and burst out laughing.


P.S. And I sewed that sheet for Story's crib.

MATS

Halloween 2009

This summer we were talking about Halloween, and Cash blurted out, "I wanna be Mats!" (Translation: Max). Okay, I can do that. Sew a wolf suit. Done.

It took me about a month to realize that the film would be coming out just before Halloween (a film that I am avoiding until I get over my snobbery and give into my curiosity)--that we'd be over-stimulated with movie trailers, book store displays, and excited blog posts on the subject.

But by then Cash was too excited. For the past month we'd be paying for groceries or checking out library books, and he'd look at the employee and blurt out, "Mats suit!"

I found a vintage simplicity pattern at the thrift store to use as the basic shape--changed the zipper closure to velcro, added buttons, make-shift claws, unevenly long ears that made everyone think he was a bunny, etc. He had a little bag. The tail is my personal favorite.

But for the week leading up to Halloween he kept telling us he didn't want to wear the costume or trick-or-treat or get candy.

Well, great. Say goodbye to your last homemade costume, pal.

But when he saw that first group of trick-or-treaters come to the door, he immediately said, "Where's my tostume?" He was suited up and out the door in under 5 minutes. And gone for and hour and a half. No smiling or laughing or running. Just straight-faced, methodical trick-or-treating. Like it was his job.

He let loose once he got home.

"Mom, you make these?"

Last week Wes was out of town, so, whilst thrifting with a very cooperative Cash, I decided to treat him to a root beer float at the drive in diner. Cash was very excited (of course, he'd hardly share the float), and as we sat there in the warm, summer air the radio began to play "This Magic Moment."

Ahhh. . . those sweet glimpses of what good, happy days spent with your kids ought to look like (instead of the usual bribing and arguing that goes on in most conversations with a 2 1/2 year-old). "Cash, listen, if you get in the car seat on your own I won't kill you. That's the deal."*

Cash and I had another magic moment as we sewed his first batch of summer pajama shorts a few weeks ago. He couldn't do much to help, but he did make sure the t-shirts we cut these from were fully spread out on the floor. He held the scissors for me, threw things away And, when he was especially cooperative, he got to push the reverse button on the sewing machine. Oh, the excitement of being a toddler.

At first I thought it was an insane idea to try to sew these with Cash's help, but I'm glad I offered because he was so proud of the finished products. And still, every night, he points to his shorts before bed and asks (in his high pitched question-voice), "Mom, you make these?"

"Yes, Cash, we made those."



*Oh, hang up the phone before you dial Child Protective Services. I'm just joking.

you're getting warmer

Cash's nursery is almost finished, now that I got the Johnny Cash print framed and actually had a weekend off to work on it. I got this print in Nashville last winter at the famous Hatch Show Print. I had JoAnn Fabrics frame it because of their 50% off deal going on, but I wouldn't use them again. The frame hugs the lettering on the left-hand side, even though the framer assured me it wouldn't. Problem is, I waited so long for this to come in, I hate to take it back to have them fix it (isn't that twisted?). A few photos:

crane and twig mobile, inspired by this photo.

notice baby in basket.

the prints. the smaller one is this print.

above the changing table: vintage paint-by-numbers and a few collections
i'm rather fond of the red diaper pail.

and the "in progress" corner. the lincoln rocker was my grandparents and is very dear to me. unfortunately, the color and style are not dear to me, so i'm still unsure of how to handle this.