Pinwheel party prep

My baby girl turns one on Sunday and I am twirling, whirling, wheeling.  One year? I can't believe it.
I decided on a pinwheel theme with pennant banners, AKA bunting decorations, too. Pinterest became my new best friend throughout that decision process and on into the specifics.

Examples of the invites minus the party specifics.

I made pinwheel invites/announcements that actually spin!  My favorite part.  We want Annika to be swirled in wishes and hopes and dreams and not necessarily mounds of gift. So we asked people to send or bring their wishes; we want to create a pennant banner decoration for her room and eventually turn it into a quilt.  How to make this happen is still plaguing me!

Emma's and Annika's shirts

I followed The Copycat Crafter to make a bday shirt for Annika.  Her instructions link to The Pinwheel Bib on another blog for the instructions on how to make a fabric pinwheel. BUt it also has another idea! A whole bib with a pinwheel. So great I had to do it- all. :)

Finished bib

So I decorated a onesie for Annika, a shirt for Emma (per her request), and made a birthday bib.  The bib has a purple PUL back fabric with a layer of thin cotton batting in the middle since the top fabric was so thin. I used a pattern that came with the PUL book but made it a bit smaller to fit the birthday girl.

A pennant banner name for the cake topper had to be done so I did it using scraps from the stained glass bunting made by following the artful parent site instructions.  Emma helped grate some crayons and made most of the sprinkled creations.  (I did the ironing  and sewing part.). Can't wait to see them in action!

I tried to tear off the wax paper rectangles into roughly the same size sheets. So after folding and ironing they were then about the same size. To make sure I ended up with similar sized triangles I marked one side of each completed sheet at 3 inches and 9 inches (the wax paper is 12 inches wide) along one edge.

Then along the opposite side I made a mark at 6 inches (the center).  With a pencil and a ruler (for a straight-edge) I connected the left corner to the 3 inch mark and from there to the center. Then from the center to the 9 inch mark and then up to the right corner. I cut on the lines and voila!  Due to some variation in the length of wax paper sheets torn off the roll, some triangles were a tad shorter or longer than the average. That just added interest!

SO now I had a huge stack of triangles to create the bunting plus some extra pieces. I sewed two chains of 12 each, one of 13 and one of 17 pennants.  I added the words "happy birthday!" to the 12 pennant chains, centering the letters as best I could. I used the leftover scraps to make a mini-pennant banner for the cake that had Annika spelled out.


I have cut out a lot of squares and made diagonal cuts in order to make pinwheels.  A lot.  We might play "find the matching pinwheels" game.  And color or draw a pinwheel contest.  Sidewalk chalk and triangle stencils are the preference if the weather is nice.  Pinwheel corn hole anyone?
At the last minute my hubby make a corn hole game with some extra plywood we had lying around. I bought some fabric to make bean bags and made some quick pinwheel bags. First I cut rectangles out of the pink and purple (4 each) accounting for a half inch seam on all sides (to end up with a finished square about 4x4 inches). Sorry, no details on measurements. Oops. Anyway, I folded the rectangles right sides together and stitched along two sides and part of the third, leaving an opening for filling the bag with small white beans.

Here you can kind of see the seams and open edge.

I weighed out 5 ounces of beans per bag using our kitchen scale.

Then I sewed the opening closed by top stitching. Since they are only for a game I didn't worry about making the seam pretty with hand stitching it closed to hide the stitches. This way was very fast!

Couton

Couton rhymes with coupon and crouton. It came about completely by mistake this past Sunday when I was clipping a coupon from the slick section.  What is a couton?  Well, it is similar to a coupon in that it reduces the overall cost of something. In this case the cost is calories to ones body.  It is like a crouton in that it is crunchy and you sprinkle it on food such as salad.  Some people are known to eat them just for their crunchy yet oily, tasty flavors. 1 bag of coutons hold the salad.

Or take this example of a typical order a your favorite national chain restaurant:  I'd like the Cobb salad but with no peppers, onions, cucumbers, avocado or tomatoes.  keep all of the luncheon meats, hard boiled eggs, add extra cheese and wirh full-fat ranch dressing on the side.  Oh and please add coutons.

Here is the thought process behind that order: okay, Hmm, what do i want to eat?  i should probably watch what I eat so maybe I will order a salad.  Cobb salad sounds nice. Oh but I can't eat peppers because they give me indigestion. I hope to kiss my significant other later so scratch the onions. It is not cucumber season; ugh, they probably came from somewhere south of the border.  Guess that's true for the tomatoes and avocados. There is nothing like a CA avocado...Okay you can't have everything. Focus. Think about the salad.  What else?  I feel like meat! Okay, all the meats sound good and the egg but maybe more cheese for color. And mmmm...ranch but not the watered down crap. Okay, that all sounds good. Hmm, maybe it is a little too fatteneing, better add some coutons to counteract all the protein and fat!  Alright. 

Out loud: okay, I know what I want!

Oh, couton. If only you could enter our lives and sprinkle our salads with delightfully sinless crunch!

Shelley's not the one for me

Although I was initially completely gung-ho about Discardia, the momentum has slowed considerably. That is in part due to the supremely crappy weather we have been having. I have no motivation for anything! Spring cleaning, ha!
These pictures are part of a "collection" that I took back in February- the proof is in the date stamp.  I pulled a bunch of books off the shelves and sent a large number to the thrift. The rest, like this Shelley book are in a paper bag labeled "re-evaluate in 6 months (August 2013)."  They are the books that are inscribed or have some special significance. I am not sure why this book jumped out at me today. Perhaps it is because I am waxing nostalgic at my childhood. Indeed, lately I have been seriously contemplating, questioning and examining my childhood in order to figure out what I am all about now as a mother and 36 year old woman.  Sounds cheesy doesn't it? Well, write to me if you have an alcoholic mother and we can talk. I do not need to justify myself to you or anyone else. Yes, I do know that I am being defensive and offering thoughts as if they were asked for. You may not have asked but I am going to tell you anyway. Who are you anyway? I am the only one that reads this blog so I am really only conversing with myself. That's fine. Probably better that way.
Anyway, my mother and father must have done something right if a high school teacher saw potential in me, even if my peers did not. I always felt misunderstood, like all teenagers. But I also felt like I needed to be different. Or rather I felt I was different in an agreeable way. I was proud of the way that I was able to be my own person. Even if it meant that I forever secluded myself from a vast majority of my classmates who thrived on fitting in and belonging.  I was made of stronger stuff than I might have let on about when under pressure. I still am a strong person. My husband tells me so.
I never read the Shelley book. I never cared for his style. I kept the book solely for the inscription. And you have to admit that it is pretty good. Not just a Happy Birthday or Merry Christmas. This was personal.  It did always nag at me, though, that despite the insight Mrs. Aavang seemed to have into my inner soul, the book was not even close to being one I would cherish and re-read till the pages were worn and the ink smeared.  Maybe she was trying to push me farther into my own person. Maybe she thought that my responses to the poetical analyses were an indication of my fondness for Shelley. Maybe I should have read the book.

Governor Squawker

As I type this Annika is still screaming upstairs in her bed. It is hard to tell if she is getting any less frantic. My head hurts from the noise. The sound of the typing keys is almost too much. This will have to be short. At times like these the only thing that eases the pain and angst is a hot shower. And since I didn't take one this morning I could really use the cleansing waters.
This baby girl amazes everyone when we are out in public. She charms the pants off everyone. I am not exaggerating. Complete strangers have told us that she is the most beautiful baby they have ever seen. She is the most calm baby ever. She has the most beautiful eyes. Oh those eyes! Oh that hair! Is she always this calm they ask. Ha! As if.
She still does not sleep through the night. and she tends to do all of her crying between the hours of 6 pm and 6 am.  The night before last she was awake around 11 pm or something so I nursed her.  She went back to sleep with only a few noises. But she woke up less than 2 hours later fit to be tied. So we let her cry. We let her scream. We let her keep us awake. We groaned and cursed and pounded the pillows until 1.5 hours had passed. Steve stormed into get her intending to feed her a bottle of formula. I followed him and nursed her even though it had not been 4 hours since her last feeding.  She woke up then around 6 am.  And I can count the number of times that this child has woken up happy on one hand! She just instantly screams.  When I am standing too close to her while she screams it makes my ears hurt. I do believe that her screams are making me deaf to that decible.  She could wake the dead! So Steve started calling Annika Governor Squawker. More like Governess Screamer. It is just unreal.
Annika is just this tiny little petite baby who weighs only about 15 pounds. That's 14th percentile or something. No big shakes in size. But if we could measure her vocal output she would be off the charts! I think we have to come to terms with the fact that she is just not over the colicky business. She is just a fussy baby. Or maybe we should just be putting her to sleep in public places. I should cart the pack and play around and just set up baby bedtime wherever we happen to be. Target shoe aisle? Woodman's produce section?  I know that would fail.  For Easter weekend we were in Santa Barbara with Steve's family. She showed her true colors at night there- Uncle Mark can tell you "Yeah, she really gets all worked up doesn't she?"  And I think one day she started to let loose when she was hungry and tired and she had to wait. But I know that all those pregnant sisters are hoping for a calm baby like Annika, except one that will sleep through the night. We intimated a couple of times that there were a couple months of hell and they were surprised. Guess if you don't ask the right questions you won't get the full story! We were "off radar" for a reason people! Seriously.
I don't wish Squawker tendencies on anyone. I do wish though for some perspective. For someone in the family to be able to nod their heads and truly understand how we feel. With 3 more nephews/nieces on the way there is bound to be a fussy one in there, isn't there? Governor Squawker can't be the only one can she? Really?

Missing Sweater

When I took the pictures of this sweater I did not think that I was setting us for actually really needing the pictures. But that's how life works it seems.
This sweater has special significance for me.  My best friend, Emily, loaned it to me a few years ago. I had left Emma home with Steve and headed to Chicago to spend some time with my friend. I don't remember what we did, but I clearly remember wanting a warmer shirt or sweater. Emily had a lot of clothes, but she is smaller than I am so the choices were somewhat limited.  As soon as she showed me the striped sweater I chose it. I loved it instantly and I know that it was also one of Emily's favorites.
Back in our high school days people used to think that Emily and I were sisters. We both had long, dark hair. We both wore red plaid shirts as coats. We spent a lot of time together.  One thing we loved to do was shop at resale shops and garage sales. We often found things that we both wanted- shirts or sweaters were often equally desired by both of us. We took turns keeping the contested items. We may have even shared a sweater or two.
So here we were many years later and reliving the good old days through fashion. I think Emily let me wear the sweater home to wash it.  What I didn't know was that Emily had emailed Steve and told him to wrap the sweater up for my birthday. So he hid it and on my birthday he gave it to me from Emily. It was the best present! When I talked to Emily she told me it was mine until I decided to return it to her.

I wore the sweater a lot, always thinking of my friend. I loved that sweater and got excited every winter when I would "find" it among my other winter clothes. It was my favorite sweater ever.
Emily came up for Annika's baptism and I wore the sweater on that Saturday. I knew when I put it on that day that it would be one of the last times I wore it. I felt like it needed to go back to Emily. Of course she commented on it and said something like maybe if a certain guy saw me in it, it would make him fall in love with me. Out of context that sounds odd but there you have it. So I didn't say what I was thinking but I knew that I would be giving it back to her soon- before winter was over.
Then before Christmas after washing the sweater one last time I wrapped it and put it in an envelope along with a nice long note to Emily. I told her how much I loved the sweater and how great it was of her to share it with me. I told her that I weaved some magic into it for her. She would know if the spells worked if after wearing the sweater a few times, a certain guy falls in love with her, she finishes and publishes a book that makes her famous and if she comes into some money. I put it in the mail using the drop box and automated teller on December 24th. That was the last I ever felt it. Emily never received it.
While talking with Emily after new years she said something about her guy saying he loved her. But she didn't mention the sweater or my note. So I asked her if she got a package from me even though I knew the answer. We're convinced that someone stole the package (it has happened at her place before apparently) and hope that the person feels really bad. I am deeply distressed that I lost the sweater that we both loved so much. And of all the packages and boxes we sent for the holidays, that was the one that I should have insured. That was the one that if I had thought about it before hand I would have said would be the worst one to lose.
So this is my tribute to a thing. Something that meant a lot to my best friend and I, but that is just a thing. At least I still have my friend! She asked me a couple of times to share what I had written in the note and was amazed that her guy said he loved her and that I wrote about that in my note. I guess the sweater magic was stronger that we knew!

Discarding felines

Discardia is a book we all should read, especially if we want to organize and simplify our lives. This book has inspired me to be more rigorous in my pursuit of reducing clutter in my house! One idea presented in the book is to consider an item you no longer use or want but hesitate getting rid of it because of sentimental or nostalgic reasons.  So photograph it, write about it and then get rid of it. (My personal caveat: get rid of it responsibly- trash it only if there is no way to recycle, reuse or thrift it.) This is my first post for my new discardian self. 

My husband's grandmother gifted us the kitty in the flowers wall hanging back when we had cats or still admitted that we liked cats. (The whole story of how we came to not have cats anymore is a long humorous and heart wrenching tale for another day.) Now that I think about it, this may have been a birthday present to me.  When I see it I think of how sweet Bugga was to think of me. I feel like it represents that I may have a more important place in the family than I thought.  Still...this wall hanging has not seen the light of day or hung flush to a wall in over 10 years. It's time to say goodbye.

My mom made me the large cat wall hanging back when I was still in college (I think.) It did hang on our basement wall when we first moved into this house, but it no longer fits my style or who I am.  Once upon a time I had dreamed of being a wildlife vet specializing in large cats. I loved large cats. I still find them impressive and awe inspiring, but the dream has long since passed. And I really don't want to decorate my house with them. That reminds me that I have some posters that need to go as well. Goodbye big cats!

ultrametabolism

 I think I am addicted to olive oil.  That's what I said the other night at dinner to which my husband laughed and said that was the weirdest thing he had ever heard.  Is it weird to like olive oil so much? I started really consuming it after reading Ultrametabolism.  Now I am not looking to be on a diet, although I do want to shed all of the remaining baby pounds. I just wanted to read the book since it was talked of rather highly by my sister in law. So I read it while nursing my baby in the middle of the night. And I liked what Dr. Hyman had to say about food and eating.  I agree that we should eat "real" food and not waste calories or money on food with low to no nutritional value.  The only thing that would really make his plan better would be to focus more on locally grown foods. For instance, coconut and coconut milk is a staple in his recipes, but you are hard pressed to find those produced in Wisconsin.

Another reason I have made 4 or more recipes out of Ultrametabolism is that I liked what he had to say about metabolism and the human body- I finally understand how the body works and why when I eat a lot of sugar I want to eat more sugar and then I feel badly. Does understanding lead to something here?

Anyway, I have given up dairy due to my baby's eczema issues and GI troubles. Without dairy in my diet I actually feel better- more full while eating less for example.  I have accidentally and completely intentionally consumed dairy over the last month and swear I saw spots pop up on Annika's adorable face. I can't say that dairy definitely caused the first round of horrible eczema but it cleared up as soon as I stopped eating lots of cheese, yogurt, milk, ice cream, and butter. I love dairy so this is really a sacrifice of sorts! Without butter I needed some sort of bread smear, and Dr. Hyman encourages the use of olive oil for its healthy benefits. So while my daughter was spreading butter on her daddy's homemade Italian loaf, I was dipping my slices in a bowl of olive oil- and licking my fingers clean. It's really the best when my hubby makes garlic bread now. He pours the olive oil on and shakes copious amounts of garlic salt and powder. So good.

Now I am wondering what Dr. Hyman would say if he knew we grasped onto the olive oil gravy train while also eating white bread. To me homemade Italian loaf isn't white bread, but it is made from processed wheat. There is no whole grain in those chunky loaves. We should be eating whole grains and breads that you can't squeeze with your fingers at least according to the doctor. I just don't know if I could really give it up. But then I think of this really fantastic dense rye that my hubby made and I think it could work. Olive oil would taste just as yummy drizzled on a slice of that bread is it does on the Italian loaf.

I made The Best Brownie recipe from Ultrametabolism just this afternoon. They are good. Not too sweet (no sugar in these bad boys!) and have a nice dark chocolate taste to them. The only troubling aspect is the texture; the ground pecans make for a rough feel. Still, they are a very reasonable and much healthier replacement for "real" brownies. When I think about gorging myself on sweets these days I actually have more of a steely resistance. I had some birthday cake for my daughter's birthday and on the following days until it was finally gone from our fridge and I felt just awful. I think my body was happier without the high sugar doses and dairy content. Hmm.

But really, how much can one nursing mama give up?  Dairy (butter, yogurt, cheese, ice cream)-check, check, check, check. Lots of sugar-check. Chocolate with less than 70% cacao- check.  If I ever have to give up olive oil I will be in big trouble. I can't get enough!