Apologies. And have you seen my camera anywhere?

I'm up to my eyeballs in student papers right now, and I can't find my camera, so posting is extra difficult for me. But I promise I'm thinking about a new post or two even as I mark comma splices and verb tense shifts over and over and over and over.

In unrelated news, we're getting to the end of emptying Myra's house, and so we've reached the few toys from my childhood that she had tucked away. V is playing with the beloved Sesame Street Clubhouse that occupied Jess and I for hours upon hours. And she's loving our View-Master, too, which warms my old-school heart.

So that's what we're up to. How's your Sunday?

Adventures in Gift Making

The 6 year old girl child asked only for Rapunzel-based gifts this year. She received many other things, but she really, really wanted a dress like Rapunzel's. "It doesn't even have to be exact, Mama, so long as it's purple." For you non-Tangled viewers, here's Disney's Rapunzel, in costume:

Such a dress can be purchased, of course, but without special ordering, most stop at size 6x. My 6 year old girl child is in the 90+percentile for both height and weight in her age category, so she has long since outgrown such a thing. Besides, store bought Disney dresses are always made from cheap, crappy satin that runs/deteriorates faster than the child learns to fasten the velcro. So I went to the fabric store and bought 2 yards of lavender knit. "Use a pattern, Jenny!" my mother implored. But why would I listen to her?

 Lace from my immense fabric stash, sewn on the hem of the dress. (I actually attached the lace, then flipped it and topstitched it to make the hem. Because sometimes in sewing, lazy=professional looking).

My sewing machine would like to recieve full credit for this project.

 For the bodice, I chose a dark purple velour from my stash. I would've made the whole dress out of this if I'd had enough. Rapunzel's sleeves have contrasting ribbon sewn on, so I sewed on contrasting ribbon.

 Above, hemming the sleeve (with a gap to insert elastic, which will help the sleeve be appropriately poufy).

 Rapunzel's corset caused me a bit of a headache. 6 year olds don't really need sweetheart necklines, and I'm not crazy about a lacing that can get caught on stuff while she plays/swings/runs around like a crazy princess. My research led to lots of good places (that one there has photos of how the store-bought dresses wear out, along with a thorough how-to) and one of them (I can't find it, but this shows the same concept) showed the ribbons as just stitched down. I went with that. No grommets (which are fun, of course), no fuss. Well, some fuss. I made the top based on a Simplicity top I've made her a half dozen times. Then I sewed on the skirt, made from a rectangle sewn into a loop, pinning a lot.

 I should take one of it on a hanger, but here she is, all dressed up (with a scarf for Rapunzel's hair) in a dress 3 sizes too big. I'll take it in a few inches at the waist, shortening the skirt and the top, as soon as she lets me take it to the basement for a few minutes.

She's wearing it to Grandma's tonight. It was worth staying up past my bedtime for my dear little Rapunzel. Now I need to make a Flynn Rider and Mother Goethel costume for Shaun and me. Yee-haw.

Game time!

Little warms this mama's heart more than coming in from running errands to see this:

Shaun and V, playing the beautiful Little House on the Prairie board game, which Shaun bought for me years ago.

I don't know who won, nor do I care. It's just the goofiest, bestest thing to come home to.

Busy and Angry and Tired, oh my!

Busy: It's the last four weeks of the semester, ladies and gentlemen. Yes, that's right. It means I'm up to my neck in grading, the laundry's piling up, and the car needs washed. And yet....I want to blog. I want to frolic and share and love all of you, and piss on this giant stack of student papers. (Well, not literally. Once, when we had a black miniature poodle named Zuul with some anger issues, he peed on some student papers. Those were fun to hand back). It's funny how that works, isn't it? How just when we feel totally tapped out we seee something shiny and suddenly have all the energy we could want.

Angry:  Oh, lord, I'm angry at snow. I've never been mad at snow before, that I can recall, though probably I have. But it just.will.not.leave. It's filthy and grey and going to flood our river all to hell but it's taking its own sweet time.We still have 6' high piles all around. And just when the driveway is almost clear, we get another 7 inches. Even Shaun's getting in on this anger party: a couple of weeks ago he came home just furious at the weather. So we talk about moving, and watch a movie or two, and then spring finally shows up and we forget about moving until next winter. Gak. Stupid sneaky snow.

Tired: I'm tired of being busy and angry, I guess. I'm looking forward to my sabbatical but it still seems entirely abstract and far away. I want to set out a bird feeder, and cook something new, but mostly I just want to take a nap. And blog.

Anyway, what a depressing, whiny post! Here, I will offer you something to cheer you up. V had two birthday parties to attend on Saturday, and we made the gifts for both. Here's the second party, at our local bowling alley (bowling parties are fun! I'd never been to one before!). We made our friend Oscar Costumes on a Stick, and he let his guests show them off with him.

I think they were a success! And isn't this a much happier ending? I thought so.

Boxful of V

I know that by making this wish, I'm ensuring widespread large-appliance failure throughout my home, but I would really like to have a big old box for V to play in. Something where we could cut out windows and a door and perhaps put in a wee table and chairs?

 Because this box is just not working out like we'd hoped.

You crafty thing, you.

For our last weekend of winter vacation, V and I got all ambitious and worked on Valentine's Day presents. Last year, I forgot about Valentine's Day until I dropped her off at school, and then ran to Target to buy crappy pixie stix for 24 unsuspecting classmates. This year, I'm gonna be prepared. Dammit.

I read this post on Frugal Family Fun blog (which is a spectacular blog that you really should be reading instead of this one). Hm, I said. Interesting. But I don't have a heart muffin tin, and I'm not about to pay $5.99 for a new one that I'll only use to melt down crayons.

So we went to the newest Dakota Boys and Girls Ranch, and lo and behold, there was a heart-shaped baking tin of some sort. It says "Wilton 1992" on it, so I don't know where you can get your own. Try your local thrift store. Ours was 99 cents.

Now that we had our tin, we peeled all the worn-down, deadbeat crayons we could find. Then we broke them into little-ish pieces. Then we sorted them by color. Then Barbie farted on them.

 V liked putting them into the tins. She liked picking color combos, and found this exercise totally engrossing. I preheated the oven to 275 degrees, and ten minutes later, wala!

 Hot wax! Aren't they pretty? If you look at the link to Martha's on Frugal Family's blog, she suggests setting the oven to 150 for 20 minutes or so, but I'm not patient enough, so I went with the hotter shorter time. Just be careful taking these things out of the oven. A spill would be...waxy, I'm afraid.

 After they cooled for about 10 minutes on the counter, we popped them in the fridge and then V took a bath. When she was done, these babies easily popped out of the baking sheet (with a few well-placed whacks). The crayon marks above are from us trying to figure out what color the little broken bits were (those dark blues and purples all look alike...) before baking.

Here, for scale, are V's blurry, excited hands, lining up some of the 48 new chunky heart crayons we've made. I figure 2 for each kid, with some sort of card that indicates these are not for eating, but for coloring.

What do you think? Is this better than last minute pixie stix? I sure hope so. Now I just need to remember to get them ready in the next month, and not wait until the morning of the 14th, as is my lazy, lazy way.

Rainy Day

Today was thick with humidity until it finally rained around 4: that kind of rain that we're just glad finally came, because we knew it was coming all day.

So what to do with an almost 4-year-old who only wants to watch Spongebob and tell made up stories called "Our family, the Addams Family, the Star Wars Family, and KISS all go to Las Vegas" (you think I'm exaggerating, don't you?)

When I couldn't take either of those things anymore, I broke out this set of Melissa and Doug Dough Play toys we got at Saver's a few weeks ago for $2.99, still in the box. (I know the photos leave a lot to be desired. It's a rainy day, people. What did you expect?)

Then, because I solicited information from you guys a few posts ago and got suggestions and even a bona-fide recipe via e-mail (thanks, Donna!), I decided to make our own dough. I had to empty salt shakers I'd forgotten we had, and didn't think to take pictures during the cooking phase, but here's our finished project. It's from a recipe pretty similar to the first one here. It's really smooth and kind of sproingy, and especially fun when it's still warm. Look at the anticipation in her face:And there's not a talking sponge or Millenium Falcon in sight.We rolled, and pulled, and squished, and laughed. It made the whole day so much brighter.

C'mon over on your next rainy day, and we can all play together.

Mama, will you play castle with me?

V asks several times a day if I'll play castle with her. She got this great Melissa & Doug castle (see my Amazon sponsored ad at left. Please don't judge me) for Christmas from Grandma Myra, and it's quickly become an obsession. When Mama gets involved, though, terrible things sometimes happen. Here, a happy Jester meets a scorpion. And you really want to stay away from the Angry Frog. He's already eaten the king, even as Spider Man looks on, curious but unable (or unwilling?) to intervene.

After rescuing the jester, V promptly fed the princess to Angry Frog (as Calm Cow looks on). Oh, the humanity.

Oh, the humanity

Warning: the following contains graphic photographs, not suitable for most people.

What: Crime scene report
When: 14 November 2008, 2:08pm
Location: Living room: just inside the doorway

A little further in Further still Over that way And here’s some more The victim (The guy with the orange feet has an alibi). Evidence in the victim’s…bodily fluids… The primary suspect I know. Those of you who read this are not surprised. What kind of idiot mother lets her kid have a bottle of syrup as a best friend? I’ll tell you: a sticky one. With sticky socks, a sticky chair, a sticky floor, and a sticky daughter.

Case closed. Please send wet wipes. And valium.

Oh, and someone should maybe warn Little Debbie to stay out of our house.

Backpack, backpack

As promised, proof of the Backpack I Made Without A Pattern, modeled here by the lovely V, and V's assistant, Baby Head.
Note the straps: they're not adjustable, but I measured them to fit her, and barring a Robert Wadlow-esque growth spurt, they should last until kindergarten.

Here's the back: there's nothing in the backpack here, so it hangs kinda funny, but the bottom is square. V picked out the fabric, a vintage canvas-like cotton, by saying "The puppies. Woof woof." She originally said she wanted solid orange, but I didn't have any in an appropriate weight. She picked the green for the V, too, which I traced from a large scrapbooking letter and used lightweight heat n bond to stick in place, before zig-zagging around the edge. The photo makes the greens look more clashy than they are in real life.

Back to V's assitant (you didn't think I would just let her slip by us, did you?). Her full name is Plastic Baby Doll Head, but V generally shortens it to Baby Head, or just Baby. Baby Head came with us to the grocery store today, and had a drink of water in the water fountain, and tried a doughnut hole from the bakery. Baby Head has a very high voice and a dry sense of humor, as you might imagine.

I know that this is odd behavior. I swear I did not encourage her to seek out this strange plaything (as opposed to George Washington, which I kinda forced her to love). One day she was looking through some of my craft supplies, and said "Oh, can I play with her?" I was not about to say no. It's so very Wednesday Addams, isn't it? Or the opposite of Wednesday Addams, since she had a headless doll, and V has a bodyless head.

Parenthood rocks.

Skol, Mr. President.

Mr. President: "Excuse me, sir. May I please borrow your hatchet? My father has this pesky cherry tree that I feel compelled to chop down."

Ragnar (in Norweigan): "What? Hatchet? This is no hatchet, man! This is a battle axe! For maiming and so forth! Not for cherry trees!"

Mr. President: "I cannot tell a lie. I thought it was a hatchet.

Mr. President: "So can I borrow it or what?"

Yes, our mystery president is none other than the original George W. His hangtag indicates he is one of a series of presidents, including (but not limited to) Nixon, Clinton, GW Bush, Kennedy, Jefferson, and Grant. I want to work at the company that looks around the brainstorming table and says, okay, guys, we need a new stuffed toy. Bunnies? Puppies? Ah, Presidents.

The Viking is Ragnar, per his hangtag. It doesn't say "Minnesota" on his tag, but the purple plastic battle axe makes it clear that he is pro-football material. FYI: Historic Ragnar; Today's Ragnar. Unlike Washington, Ragnar is not entirely child-friendly, because when your child decides it's time to throw a toy across the room, you don't want to be on the receiving end of the battle axe. I just love his little fur-lined boots, so he's staying.

Didja all see Megan's comment regarding Velma and Washington's dialogue? Hi-larious. Megan already quit her day job, so I'm gonna have to quit mine and we'll write hilarious children's books. About presidents and vikings and 1970s characters. You'd buy one, wouldn't you?

Doll introductions

I've had some luck (or, as Tenessa and Shaun would call it, compulsive episodes) at the thrift stores lately.
Here, a beautiful case for a hair dryer. The dryer was actually inside, brand new with instructions ("portable, so you can go about your chores while your hair dries!" ca. 1968), but since I own a nice hand-held model, I left it at Savers and just took the case. It is so shiny and unmarred that I am tempted to just put it on a shelf. I have too much crap, though, to just put this kind of thing on a shelf. It will be filled by tonight, likely with zippers and/or binding tapes. Or I could let V use it for overnight trips. Just kidding. It's mine, mine, MINE!

For some reason, I cannot resist dolls of real people or of characters that are not normally thought of in doll form. The two newest additions to V's collection:

"Jinkies! I'm so pleased to meet you, Mr. President!" (Can you tell which president it is?)

Since my official school vacation (aka summer) begins on Thursday, I am tempted to start a series of photos with captions (aka stories) with some of V's more memorable toys. I'm inspired by Dare Wright, but with less class. Obviously. Send story suggestions/ideas of what this president might say back to Velma. I need help here, people.

Obviously.

Now for the darker side

So yesterday's post was all happy shiny parenting/crafty places. Today, a couple from the other direction.

These dolls inspired my own voodoo-esque rag dolls. I gotta take pictures of those. Until then, enjoy these. http://www.flickr.com/photos/mamayaga/sets/72157594564134429/with/2021961111/

Do you think the neighbors would notice if I did this in our yard? http://www.flickr.com/photos/mymsie/sets/1144128/with/2035397558/

I know it's not right. I don't care.

For when she is famous for musical something or other

"I Peter Criss, Mama!"

"I play pyano!"

No words here: just a sweet face with poor lighting.

Right now, she's wearing some red flowered tights, her sneakers, and nothing else, performing a play/tapdance routine for her imaginary audience. I would film and post this, but I'm pretty sure the talent agents would never stop hounding us, and we really have a lot of important stuff we need to do instead.

Holiday Recap

Yesterday, Shaun and I took down the tree (partly because V has continued to ask for Santa to come every night since Christmas Eve). I'm impressed with us, because last year the tree didn't come down until at least March. Maybe April. But I know you're sitting there wondering what the Ganyo tree looked like this year, so here you go. V asked me over and over to take a picture of it, so I did. The barstool is V's addition: she likes to drag it around with her from room to room.

Ah, so much to catch up on. I always have big plans during holiday break: I'll blog everyday; I'll sew 45 new stuffed things, I'll make V and myself both new wardrobes. Hm. Stupid family and housecleaning and...grocery shopping and bathing getting in the way of my plans. Dammit.

Now, on with our story! Here is V, just meeting Mr. Squawkers (which she has named on her own; thanks for your naming suggestions, but it's pretty cute when the two year old says "Good morning Mr. Squawkers.") That's Uncle Steve and Pseudo-Aunt Johanna with her: Mr. Squawkers was courtesy of Uncle Steve.

She looks kinda scared in this photo, and actually she still is (remember, she used to be afraid of bubbles. And pumpkins). She talks to and about Mr. Squawkers often; she just doesn't get too close to him. He really is remarkably lifelike. Except no pooping. Thank god.

I made everyone in Shaun's family a beautiful homemade gift, which they all opened at once. I only got David's picture, though, because after the opening and subsequent wearing (and that was my favorite part: they all simply put them on, with no questions), V started screaming at the top of her lungs, so they were quickly removed. But oh, I laughed and laughed. Imagine Steve and Johanna and Shaun and Great Aunt Joy and David and Mary and me, all in one of these:


(actually, David's was the only one of that fabric, because it was a bear to work with. The others were out of either brown corduroy or grey fleece. The fleece was easiest to work with, but had a tendency to distort. The corduroy was my favorite). These were inspired by Mr. Moustachio, from Shawnimals. I omitted the eyes on most of them, because, well, I didn't want to be ridiculous. Also, I wanted them to wearable. I debated a long time on that white elastic: was it too garish? Too obvious? But then I remembered I was making stuffed mustaches, and obvious and garish need not be my main concerns.

Here's a blurry picture of Uncle Bill (of Fat Daddys fame) modeling his, the only one with eyes. I nearly passed out at this hilarity.

Christmas morning, Santa had delivered a bright shiny drum set. It was pretty sweet to hear her gasp as she came down the stairs: "DRUMS!" She's taken right to them, and it's not nearly as irritatingly noisy as I feared. Now when we play Rock Band on the X-box, Shaun sings, I play bass, and V plays her drum set. It makes my heart feel all tingly in a Von Trapp family way.
There are more photos, of course (though for some reason I didn't take any for Christmas Eve in Hendrum). It was all so so so lovely and busy and full of cookies. I hope yours were the same.

This weekend, V and I are off to Grandma and Grandpa's, and Shaun will enjoy a Weekend of George. (I am both utterly pleased and a little queasy at the fact that there's a Wikipedia entry for that). We will all return refreshed, I hope. Next week, I get to go back to work! Wanna come with?