Sew brave

Guess who got out her new sewing machine? That's right, this girl. All it took was five months of staring at the box and my mom making a series of increasingly serious-sounding threats about taking the machine back. Yes, the boxed machine was that intimidating. 

I took the machine along to my parents' house today, removed the beautiful Audrey from her box, threaded the needle and took a pass at trying out the various stitches, stopping/starting and even doing back stitches. I concluded the self-guided tour by sewing what Mary Clare referred to as a mouse pillow. I know it is silly, but I was quite proud of that little square of green. I don't know what will come next (actually attended the included lessons at Jackman's, perhaps?), but I am glad I finally took the leap.

Baby Lock steps, people. Baby Lock steps.

High praise, indeed

As she shoveled in her second serving of stuffed shells, Mary Clare paused, looked at me and said, "This dinner is not yucky. Thank you, mommy. Dinner is not yucky."

Our turn

It was only a matter of time.

While Sherri's kiddos managed to come home with every obscure virus in the book, Charlie and Mary Clare somehow avoided most of the common daycare ailments. Our streak of good fortune came to an end this morning when school called to tell us they suspected Charlie has hand, foot and mouth disease.

A quick visit to the doctor—the second in as many days, I might add—confirmed that Charlie does, in fact, have HFMD. Which goes nicely with the ear infection he was diagnosed with yesterday. And the teeth that he's cutting ever so slowly on his top gum. Thankfully, he is taking this latest setback in stride, and is currently raiding the office waste basket in search of the ultimate 10-month-old prize, paper.

Now if you'll excuse me, I must stop typing and resume baby cuddling. At least until he launches himself off my lap again. Paper is just that awesome.

Charlie, ten months

Our little drool monster is 10 months old today, and is now the proud owner of not one, but three teeth. Possibly four. It's hard to say if there are one or two through on the top, but either way, he is grinding those teeth for all he's worth. It's really quite horrible.

Charlie has spent the past month on the go. He continues to crawl—quite quickly, I might add—and has now settled into a pattern where he will do a traditional crawl if he's on carpet, but kick his left leg out if he is on tile or hardwood. True story, when my sister commented that he was crawling normally, my mom said, "Oh, but not on hardwood. Watch this." She then proceeded to take Charlie's toy and throw it onto the hardwood so he'd have to do his funky crawl to get it. That's right. Nana Thole treated Charlie like a retriever, and all for his aunt's benefit. I'd say more, but it's not like I stopped her. Sorry, Charlie. We'll do anything for a laugh.


He is starting to cruise from one piece of furniture to the next, but he's still a little timid in that department. Same goes for walking behind his push toys. He loves it, but you have set him up and get him started. And then hope that he doesn't get distracted. Poor Mary Clare has been stranded in the little Radio Flyer push wagon more times than she would care to remember.

And how is Charlie using all this new-fangled mobility? To get into everything, of course. If he's not pulling a plug out from behind our bed he's knocking down picture frames, pulling on table runners or trying to get into the refrigerator. Wild. He's wild, I tell you. The glint in his eye doesn't lie.

We're working on getting more table food in front of Charlie, and let me tell you, he doesn't like it. Unless it's a puff or a Cheerio, he will pick around it and then patiently wait for you to replenish his tray with more carbs. Those blueberries and peas and other little bits of food can sit there all day, for all he cares. Luckily his mom is tenacious in the food department. I can just tell I'm going to have battles with this boy.
 
I still have a boatload of Easter and other April pictures to upload, but I'm proud (finally!) to say that I am back in the photo taking game. Check out the March set and April set (to date) if you are so inclined.

Under the wire, again

 

That's right. We snapped this photo the day before Charlie turned 10 months old. Because that's how we roll.

But technically, yes, technically, he's still nine months old in this photo. This silly, silly photo that was harder than heck to get. Oh, Charlie bird. You definitely like to make us work for it.

Weekend before the next weekend

 

The poor old blog hit another dry spell this week. The blogging goes in waves, it seems.
 
But before we roll into the next weekend, I thought I better get these iPhone photos up from last weekend. Chip had some manly yard work duties to attend to this past Saturday (weed killing! lawn cutting!) followed by 18 holes of golf with his buddy Tyler, so the three kids and I hightailed it out to Highland for a day in the country.

Nana and Papa Thole were busy planting in the garden, and Mary Clare was only too happy to help. Of course, she preferred plowing with Papa to planting with Nana, but walking beyond a plow that your Papa is powering is way more fun than actually squatting down and planting potatoes and onions to Nana's satisfaction. That Nana Thole is a taskmaster.

 

Charlie surveyed the action from the comfort of his stroller, and I just stood by and soaked up the sun. No, really. I didn't do a gosh darned thing to help, except look up some seed packets in the Henry Fields' catalog. Just ask my mom. She'll tell you what a lazy lump I am when I'm out there.

We followed up the gardening work with a lovely lunch on the deck (in March!) lots of tricycle rides and some serious swing time. And while Nana Thole sewed tucks into all of Mary Clare's 3T shorts and pants, I shopped online and found even more things for my mom to sew and monogram for the kids. What can I say? I come by my taskmaster ways honestly.

Oh, and I know I'm going to hear from my sister about Mary Clare's gardening attire, so I'll just head her off at the pass. Yes, Mary Clare is wearing a skirt and brand new tennis shoes. In the garden. To be more precise, it's a complete pink Adidas tennis skirt and shirt combo, topped off by a pink Mizzou hoodie. What can I say, the kids don't have old clothes. And it's all because of the Hehmeyers (tennis ensemble) and the Mitchells (Mizzou hoodies). They're the reason our kiddos have such sporty gardening attire. Swear.