Call It What You Want...

Today Mark got to stay with a whole herd of babysitters -- a family from church offered, and Tim and I had tickets to see The Grapes of Wrath at the IRT. So Mark got to spend the day with the mom and dad and two young teenage daughters. And I'm not so sure he wanted to leave. When we got there, he was snuggled up in his blanket with the older girl, and he wasn't all that eager to come to Mommy (who missed him, of course). He was as good as could be, of course, though he did give them the full "diaper change" experience... heh heh heh. But I think he has two new girlfriends...

The last time he stayed with babysitters it was "Uncle" Shawn and "Aunt" Linda, and, once again, he was as sweet as could be. He fell asleep without fussing and ate his meal happily, also without fussing or inattentiveness. Of course, Shawn took a nap when he did, meaning he got to be cuddled for an hour and a half...which is just the way he likes it.

So far, he hasn't fussed for a babysitter at all. This, of course, includes Grandma Sarah, who was his FIRST sitter... And it continues. Last night friends Brian & Becky came over, and while Brian & Tim installed our new water softener, Becky and I gave Mark his dinner (sweet potatoes and oatmeal), with no mess at all, no fussing, nothing, and then his bath and to bed...still no fussing, no protesting. I even read him a long story (Little Runner of the Longhouse, for those who remember Vinson kid literature) and then put him to bed and he didn't cry at all and went straight to sleep. HE IS A PERFORMER. Does he do this when it's just him and mommy and/or daddy? Of course not.

It brings to mind a certain mother who asked her precious little daughter, "Why is it your teachers say you are so wonderful and charming, but you are completely the opposite at home?" I -- I mean, the little girl -- replied something to the effect of, "Because you already have to love me..."

I was going to write about all the awesome stuff I got on the shopping trip (silk, beads, braid...) until on a walk I saw perhaps the funniest pants observation ever...

Two young people were walking their dog. They appeared to be in a hurry.

The girl had the leash in one hand -- and the back of her pants in the other. She had to hold her pants up with the other. They were too tight, low-rise, tending to fall toward the glutes. So as she jogged across the street, she gripped the center back of her pants with one hand.

While she was trying to hold the pants up that didn't quite have enough, er, coverage, the boy with her was also holding up his pants as he, too, jogged across the street. His problem was the opposite. He didn't have the attention to details the girl had, so he gave his over-large pants a tug and then scampered on, the bulk of his pants falling further and further toward his knees. He, however, didn't seem concerned that the waistband of his pants -- yes, the belt loops -- began to show beneath the hem of his saggy t-shirt.

They were a perfect pair.

Today threatens to be exciting, though I have nothing to report -- yet.

Last week I received the fabric I ordered for my new 1886 gown. It's ivory and white striped silk. Gorgeous. Today Brilliant Clothing Guru Ericka and I get to go shopping to find trimmings and accessories for the dress that is to be made. Tassels, fringes, whatever, we'll be looking for them. Add to this the expertise of Ericka, who can look at fabric and start seeing amazing things, and then pass them on to me, helping me create something fantastic. My original 1886 dress, a dark blue plaid with green and red, is a case in point. What started out as a pile of fabric is incredible enough that one day while I was working, an older lady said to her friend "Look at her tiny waist." Tiny waist? Not hardly. But that's the corset-bustle-drape effect!

I'll let you know what we find.

This happened several weeks ago but it struck me again today as it was rainy and cold in downtown Noblesville.

I saw two sets of young men, about the same age, who could not have been less alike.

First, walking down the street, each using one hand to hold up pants that were, as fashion seems to still dictate for this sort, many many sizes too big, were two fellows, probably in their late teens or early 20s. One wore a hat, and the other sported a scraggly hairdo. Neither had a jacket, despite the chill in the air. They were clearly walking together, but one was a pace or two behind the other, so as not to look as if they were "together."

A block down the street I passed two fellows who could easily have been Mormon missionaries. They wore black trousers, clean (albeit soggy, I am sure, in that weather) shoes, white shirts, ties, and black overcoats. They walked side-by-side, each carrying a tidy black umbrella to shelter him from the rain. Each had neatly trimmed hair, and was every mother's epitome of "clean cut."

Those first guys were probably just as nice as the second. Maybe nicer. But I had to laugh at the contrast.

Today was Mark's and my first Kindermusik class. His Auntie Kim gave him the gift of the class. She and her son Chase have gone since he was about this age, and Chase loves his music class. When Kim told Chase last week that Mark was going to get to go to music class, I think Chase thought he would go to his class, because he said, "Please" in a very happy way. Then we had to break his little heart telling him that Mark would go to his own class, with other little people (not BIG kids like Chase).

So we went to music class. (Of course we were early.) We got to play with scarves and sing songs and dance and move and play with egg shakers and have quiet time. By the time we had quiet time, Mark was ready for it; he was worn out. He started whining a little after that, and was asleep before we were out of the building at the end of class. He made two new friends. (I know, a four-month-old doesn't really have friends.) Kelsey rolled over and grabbed his face -- I think that means she likes him. And Donnie has a wonderful smile and liked to come over to say hello. All of the little people are as cute as can be, and seem to enjoy themselves very much. He also slept two hours after class, which was another nice bonus.

On top of all that fun, we got a little bag of special things to bring home. It includes a CD, a book with bird pictures and sounds, pictures of birds, and a Baby Music journal, too. This way we get to share some of the fun with Daddy, too. And it was fun...

Mark is sitting on my lap, helping me write this morning.

He's not helping so much as he's not hindering. He's listening to the Bob the Builder soundtrack, about which he doesn't really care, but it's more interesting than sitting in the mostly quiet and listening to the blowing sound from the furnace, which doesn't seem to get this room warm enough for Daddy's liking but is mostly fine for Mom. He's also playing with his mostly favorite toys -- his hands -- and is for certain getting ready for a nap. We're hoping for a good one like we had yesterday morning. It was an hour and a half in his bed, and I got some actual work done during that time.

I have an amazing friend from college with whom my contact in the past few years has been sporadic at best, something I regret terribly. Well, she and her husband are expecting, which is pretty miraculous in itself because she didn't think she'd ever be able to get pregnant. She's a kazillion miles away and struggling with a new job, unseasonably snowy winter weather in NC, and pregnancy, and I wish we were closer, like we were back in college. So my blissful free time yesterday morning while Mark napped was spent making baby Sasha a present. It wasn't elaborate, but considering how much free time I have to sew, it was something. I hope that baby knows just how special she is when she comes.

Now Mark is helping by being up in his bed, but he's still whining, and there's laundry to do, if he perchance stays asleep. I didn't understand why my friends with newborns couldn't get much done... now I do.