It’s Not All Mary Poppins

Inexplicability

Poppy comes to me full, her face solemn. I have heard a squabble rising in the kitchen but have opted to remain uninvolved. I am not surprised to have a small emissary of concern at my elbow. (Had it been Jazz, it would have been an emissary of Righteous Indignation and Most Grievous Outrage. I’m rather glad it’s Poppy.)

“Jazz not touch the scarey dragon!!”
“Does she want to touch the dragon?”
“No.”
“Oh. Do you want her to touch the dragon?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t understand what you’re fighting about.”
“She says there isn’t a scarey dragon.”
“Is there a scarey dragon?”
“No.”

So the situation of grave concern here is that there’s a non-existent dragon that Poppy does not wish Jazz to touch, and which Jazz is not, in fact, touching.

Well, you can SEE THE PROBLEM, can’t you?!!!

February 21, 2013 Posted by | Jazz, Poppy, quirks and quirkiness | , , , | 2 Comments

Pretty, pretty

From Llevo el Invierno via Prudent Baby via One Pretty Thing, we have…

a whole heap of…

very, very pretty…

wings!

Most of these were made with scrap material I had already, though I did need to purchase some. Aren’t they lovely???

I cut the feathers using pinking shears to reduce fraying, since there was NO WAY I was going to hem each scallop of each row of each wing. No way at all.

Since there’s such a mix of fabrics of indeterminate provenance, they will have to be machine washed in cold water on the delicate cycle, and must NOT be put in the dryer!! But costumes don’t get laundered so much as spot-cleaned generally, anyway, right? And what’s a little hang-drying in the face of such utter cuteness?

I’ve made five sets this month. Though the original blogger glued hers, I sewed mine. I think they’ll be more durable that way. What with cutting the scalloped strips for feathers, piecing, sewing, and finishing (a bit; they could be much more finely finished, but I was DONE), I’d say each pair of wings took three hours.

A labour of love, for sure, but SO CUTE. And really? So FUN to do. I enjoyed every minute.

December 21, 2011 Posted by | Christmas, crafts | , , , , , | 3 Comments

I’m a lumberjack and I’m okay…

Here we have a small boy.

tutu1

A small boy in his FIRE CHIEF shirt, who loves to do all manner of small boy things: running, jumping, climbing, shrieking, hugging soft toys, baking cookies (and eating the batter!!), picking his nose (and eating the… oh, never mind), building towers to knock them down — the louder the crash the better!! — driving trucks, throwing balls, shovelling snow, sliding down hills, bombing around the house on the skut bike, swinging sticks perilously close to other children’s eyes, discussing poo, making loud and meaningless sounds…

And of course, all these things are so much more fun if you do them…
tutu2

…while wearing your tutu.

February 18, 2009 Posted by | individuality, Mischief, the cuteness!, Timmy | , , , | 12 Comments

Live-blogging at Mary’s: Skunks, sleeping and saving

Live-blogging can be intense, so I thought I’d be easy with myself the first time and start with two children only. What follows is a few minutes of Emily and Nigel, before the other children arrived:

“I’m not a dinosaur, I’m your mama.”
“But you are a mama dinosaur.”
“Okay!”

“I am a skunk.”
“I’ll be the baby skunk and you be the mommy skunk.”
“Okay. Hello, baby!” (FYI: Nigel is the mommy skunk.)
“Where are we going?”
“To our home. We live in a box in a hole.”
“Something is in our box!”
“Let’s crawl, let’s go, we have… we have… We walk like this, baby skunk!” And Nigel ‘crawls’ away, on hands and feet, butt in the air.
“I’m gon sleep on this couch.”
“And I’m gon sweep on this couch.”
“Ouch. This couch is hurtin’ me.”
“That couch doesn’t hurt you.”
“No.”

“It’s sunny outside today.”
“We won’t have breakfast today.”
“Let’s go home again.”
“Okay, it’s this way!”
“I’ll be the baby skunk, and you be the mommy skunk.” (Now Emily is the mommy skunk.)
“Where are we going, baby skunk?”
“We are going to our home.”
“That’s where we stink, in our home.”
“I need a mattress.”
“And food. This is food in the mattress.”
“In my tummy.”
“Is that breakfast in your tummy?”

“I’m making mattresses so I can sleep.”
“This is my mattress.”
“This is mine.”
“Goodnight, baby skunk!”
“Goodnight, mummy skunk!”

“I need a blanket. Do you need a blanket?”
“Nope.”
“We can both sleep with it, if we want to.”
“Nope. It is just time for you to stop talkin’ and go a sleep.”

“I can be the princess and you can come save me.”
“I’ll come save you.”
“I live in a castle.”
“I live in a biiiig castle.”
“Yes, and we will SLEEP in it, okay?”
“But there’s no doors and steps in it.”
“Yes, there is a door and a step, see? You go in the castle, okay?”
“I can’t do it.”
“But you can sleep in it, right?”
“Yes.”
“You can go somewhere else, and I’ll sleep in this castle. Go. Go to your castle.”
“Okay, I’ll sleep here.”
“Come save me now.”
“Okay, okay, I’m coming. There. Now I will sleep.”

“Oh, the princess is a skunk. The princess is a baby skunk.”
“And a mommy skunk?”
“No, I am sleeping over there. I always sleep over there.”
“I’m really tired.”
“And I am a skunk.”
“Me, too. A tired skunk.”
“Yes, and now I can go to sleep! That feels better, that feels better.”

“Can you turn off the light, please, mama?”
“Sure!”

“Mary, I have to go pee.”
“Okay, you go pee, then.”
“I’m goin’ pee, Emily.”
“Okay. See you soon!”

The end. My fingers are tired.

June 25, 2008 Posted by | the things they say! | , , , , | 7 Comments