The marketing/advertising department was just a little off on this one

Something funny happened yesterday.  I opened my mail and found this:

That would be one NEWBORN sized diaper.  For further size reference:

A teeny, tiny NEWBORN sized diaper sealed in a package of coupons and a Congratulations on Your Pregnancy booklet from Pampers.  :birds chirping:  I turned to Tim and asked if Pampers knew something I didn't.  Perhaps they were privy to my cycle and had peed on a stick for me?  If so, can they also carry the baby for 9.5 months and push it out for me?  Awesome!  Sign me up!  (For the record, Am. Not. Pregnant.)

But, to be fair, this little dude's butt was swaddled in Pampers for the first month of his life and he turned out pretty well.

Yep, that's the look I get when I ask him to be "funny".  Want to see what I get when I ask for a "smile"?

Can he be a bigger goober?  I think not.

***LOOK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm a featured project over at Prudent Baby!  That's MY STOOL!  Thanks so much ladies!***

Also, not a ONE of you made a comment about the phrase "That's MY STOOL!"  Come on!  I know you're funny, mind in the gutter-type of people! 

Overscheduled

I was looking at our calendar this morning after signing Noah up for yet another "class" and wondered this: when is it too much?  He's only 19 months old and already his weekly schedule is packed with playgroups, music classes (twice a week no less), an open gym at the park district, and playdates with friends when we can fit them in.  I've been contemplating a toddler soccer class that is on Saturdays so he has an activity to do with Tim.  Most of these classes are 8-12 weeks but when one ends I've got another ready to fill it's slot.

At playgroup (which I do love) we all talk about the classes, the instructors, where the next best class is (art for toddlers!  for the low, low price of $200 for 8 weeks!  um, no, just no).  When one session of classes starts, we're already discussing the next session 8 weeks from then.  It's pretty ridiculous, agreed?  If it's this bad now, what will it look like in two, five, ten years?  How does one stop the madness?  I was reading  a post/article the other day (forgive me, I have NO idea where it was from to link it) about hyper-scheduled kids and how they've lost the ability to play independently and imaginatively because they don't have the time to practice those skills.  Well, huh.  At first I thought they could really only be referring to older kids who are trying to fit soccer in with choir practice in with boy scouts in with youth groups, not to mention that silly thing called school.  Then I took a look at OUR calendar and felt a wee bit sheepish.

Come May we'll be finished with classes.  I don't think we'll be signing up for anything else.  It IS summer after all and with summer comes parks and walks and the lakefront.  Oh wait...there is a pretty great pool not too far from here...I wonder if they offer swim lessons...KIDDING.  We already did those...last spring.

Crafty: Personalized Children's Step Stool

I spend a lot of time click-click-clicking through links in blogs and I am always amazed by the sheer number of crafty types there are out there.  Now that I'm home with Noah I find that I do have slightly more time to do "projects".  One of my first projects was to be reupholstering a chair (a full on upholstered chair, not a piddly little chair seat re-cover) but I soon realized I did not have the skill level necessary to be successful.  So I set my sights lower.  A few weeks ago I came across the cutest personalized step stool tutorial on Prudent Baby and knew it would be perfect for a) my skill level and b) for a precious one year old's birthday gift.  And it turned out better than I could have hoped.

Here's a quick step by step tutorial (a more complete one can be found at Prudent Baby):

1. Gather your supplies.

• Step stool (this one came from Target)
• Scrapbook paper or any patterned paper you like
• Cutting mat
• exacto knife or sharp scissors
• paper cutter (not necessary but the best.tool.ever.)
• mod podge (I used matte but any finish will do)
• foam brush
• letters for name (if using..see below at that step for my notes)

2.  Lay out your name on the stool to make sure your letters all fit.

*Note: I printed my letters out on my computer and when I applied the first coat of mod podge, the ink ran a bit.  Next time I would cut them out of colored paper.

3. Cut out your letters using your exacto knife and cutting mat.  The letters I chose were rather skinny so I could fit B's whole name on the stool but I would recommend a thicker font, especially if you're using scissors and not an exacto knife.

4. Position your letters on the paper to find a good placement.

5. Turn your stool upside down on the paper (wrong side up) and trace the outline.

6.  When cutting out your traced image, cut just to the inside of your line.  This prevents a "lip" on the top of the stool and makes applying your mod podge easier.  I used my paper cutter because it's awesome.  Go buy one right away.  I then used my exacto knife to trim the corners to get the rounded effect.

7.  Place your paper on the top of your stool, check fit and placement and trim as necessary.

8.  Enter Mod Podge and the foam brush.  Look at her posing all sassy-like for you.

9.  Apply a layer of mod podge to the top of the stool, about the same thickness as you will be applying on top of the paper after positioning it.  Follow the directions for application on the container.

10.  Position your paper on the top of the stool and smooth out any air bubbles starting from the middle and pushing outwards.

11.  Allow the recommended drying time and DO NOT hurry it.  If you go too fast, you get air bubbles.  TRUST ME.

12.  When dry, apply a second layer of mod podge on top of the paper and position your letters.  Once the letter goes down it's pretty tricky to move it so make sure you're extra careful to put it exactly where you want it.  Smooth out any bubbles and allow that layer to dry.

13.  When dry, apply another layer of mod podge over the letters and paper.  This is where I experienced the ink bleeding a little from the letters and I just cleaned it up the best I could with a damp paper towel.  Allow to dry.

14.  Continue applying as many layers of mod podge as you feel is needed to effectively seal the paper.  

15.  Allow to dry.  

16.  Admire handiwork and allow toddler to "test" it out while looking extremely suspicious.

All in all, I think it turned out pretty well and the birthday girl will get many tooth-brushing, hand-washing years out of it.  

They really are that pretty in real life

I made some wonderful new friends from the internet this weekend.  For me, this whole blogging thing started as an outlet for the jumble of words in my brain and this weekend it became so much more.  I've now made personal connections with other bloggers...we started as strangers and ended as friends.  It's a pretty spectacular world.

All photos by Cass Comerford, kick-ass photographer.  And I forgot my camera, of course I did.

Yes, we ate a lot.  We laughed a lot.  We had more fun than should be legal.  Please meet my new friends, I think you'll like them too.

In no particular order:
Diary of a Modern Matriarch
Cass. Just Curious.
Harmzie
Annabelle Speaks
Chez Rougie
McMama's Musings
Back To Me
Pseudostoops
& lilsaej who does NOT have a blog but is still fabulous.

I think I'll be attending BlogHer this year.  Just so I can spend more time with these wonderful ladies.  And because Cass told me to.

This anniversary is not one to be celebrated

an⋅ni⋅ver⋅sa⋅ry

 [an-uh-vur-suh-ree]  Show IPA noun,plural -ries, adjective

–noun

1.	the yearly recurrence of the date of a past event: the tenth anniversary of their marriage.

2.	the celebration or commemoration of such a date.

One year.  It's been one whole year since I fell down the stairs carrying Noah and broke his leg.  Even now, just typing those words, makes me feel anxious.  Really, really anxious.  It's difficult for me to remember that day.  The screaming, the panic, the florescent lights in the waiting room, the heavy vests in the x-ray room, the tiny yellow gown for a tiny patient, the kind child welfare worker.  It's all too much.  I sat down to write this and I truly thought I would be able to talk about it calmly and peacefully because my baby is ok.  He's fine.  He's better than fine, he's doing great.  Someday, February 5, 2009 will be just a blip in our memories, a day we bring up at family gatherings during a "remember when?" round and then laugh (I never will).

That accident changed me.  It made me nervous.  It made me anxious.  I believe deep down that I am a good mother and a good person and accidents happen to good people every day.  But I am not the same person I was before and I hate that.  I hate that I don't feel competent in taking care of my child.  I hate that I check, triple check, that Noah is in the backseat even after buckling him in because I am terrified of forgetting him somewhere (which, for the record, I have never done).  I hate that every time he falls down and cries hysterically I think he's broken a bone or gotten a concussion or something far worse.  I hate that I panic the minute he walks out of view of the camera in the childcare room at the gym and I immediately think someone's taken him.  All of this because of that accident.  

I know it could have been so much worse and I wonder if that's why I feel so anxious now.  Like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to say.   I am so grateful that Noah healed just fine with no lingering developmental issues.  He's happy, he's healthy, he's extremely loved.  But I just can't shake that nagging anxiety that something will happen to him under my care.  This anxiety is preventing me from really moving forward with expanding our family because I worry that I am not capable of taking care of another small person.  I hope that time does heal this in me.  I need it to.

I am so sorry, Noah.  I am so sorry I hurt you.

Straight out of Elle Decor

It should be law that toddlers come with their own cleaning lady.  And by cleaning lady I don't mean ME.  He's a walking tornado, leaving tiny Little People, magnetic letters, plastic trucks and mini Hoovers in his wake.  At least it's a colorful decor, no?