First, 30 minutes after that last blog post, V quietly went into the bathroom and then several minutes later called for my help. I thought maybe she'd dropped her circus book, but noooo....Ladies and Gentlemen, V has now successful used the toilet for both of its intended purposes. As promised, she got her cupcake as well as a ridiculous Happy Poop Dance her father and I made up for her. And no, I will not do the happy poop dance for you, even if you poop like a big girl.
Also, um, please don't tease her about this when she's 11. She'll have enough problems as it is.
The second blogworthy thing is a historic event in my sewing career. (I mean, 7th grade home ec was historic in that I missed the day we got instructions for our sewing project so bought a perfectly lovely jumper pattern and plaid fabric, not realizing that I would then need to MATCH PLAIDS...oh, the humanity). I have been using a sewing machine with some regularity for 17 years, almost half my life. I've lost track of the number of quilts I've made, and have shared here on this blog some of my adventures in softie, backpack, and diaper making, to name a few. This is not to say I'm an expert, by any means, but just to illustrate I am no stranger to my sewing machine.
Tonight, I was finishing my version of Amanda Soule's Gratitute Wrap (find the pattern on the lefthand side, under "For You!"), moving along at a good clip, and in putting the binding on the last corner, I moved my finger in to tuck in some fabric and ....ow....sewed through my finger tip.
Now calm down, all you non-sewers and sewers alike: it just went through the fleshy part on the tip of my left index finger (though I'm finding it quite painful to type right now...must stop using t, f, g, r, and v). I've heard horror stories of people hitting bone and/or the needle breaking off inside and being lost forever. Neither of those things happened, though the needle did break. Because I had an entrance and an exit wound, it was easy to remove the needle, as it was protruding. The thread, on the other hand, was rather disconcerting, because it was still attached to the spool, and had I not realized I needed to cut it, I would still be downstairs pulling thread through my finger.
I know. Gross. Sorry.
The good news is, the binding I was sewing on and the thread I was using were both red, so no one will be the wiser! Well, except now I can't give it to anyone who reads this blog. Stupid bloody gratitude wrap.
I have no pictures of the poop, the wound, or the wrap, though one of those three may well show up here tomorrow. If that doesn't make you want to check back in, I don't know what will.