Needles and a Pen » Knitting, Sewing, and Nursing School

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  • Welcome to my blog!

    Hi! I'm Traci. I'm a nursing student and CNA who loves quilting, knitting, cross stitch, and the great outdoors. In my pre-scrubs life, I owned Real Photography, and you can still see my old wedding and portrait photography site here .

    I've created a map that shows links to our camping/hiking/general family fun review posts that you can find here. It's pretty much the coolest thing on this site. Thanks, Google!

    I great big puffy heart *love* comments, so please let me know you visited! I try to always reply!

march 2007 (old blog entries)

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I’ve written about Will’s love of farts and burps before.  He thinks they’re so funny. Last week, though, he took it to a whole new level.

Nic burped, and Will laughed. And then he opened his mouth wide and tried to force himself to burp. I thought he was going to make himself throw up, or, at the very least, cough up an organ. But it was hilarious.

Last night Nic burped again and Will did the same thing…so for the next five minutes the two fake-burped and laughed at each other.

Nic said “I love having a boy baby.” 

And it’s true–this right here is the upswing to the willy-holding and nose-picking.  A free license to laugh at gas. 

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marshmallow rocks

I’m working on a layout about Will moving rocks and it reminded me of the other week when my parents were visiting:

I was working on something in the kitchen when Nic threw something at me. It hurt.

I turned around to see (a) why he was abusing his wife and (b) what in the heck he’d thrown.

A marshmallow was laying on the ground.

I started to laugh. Nic threw another one, this one landed at my feet with a “thud.”

“What was that?” my mom asked.

“A marshmallow.” we giggled…and then everyone had a good laugh.

It’s really a had-to-be-there story, but I want to remember it..because hearing that marshmallow THUD was pretty stinkin’ hilarious. 

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just for the record

It’s snowing here again!

I’m worried about my poor little seeds out there in the cold.

Will has been teething this week and I forgot how hard it is when he’s teething.  The crankies, the wake-up-at-nights (after just getting back to sleeping through the night again), the terrible dirty diapers, the fever…I seriously find it hard to believe that this is harder on him than me. :P 

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“outside” and “all done”

You can add those two to Will’s vocabulary. And “dight” is now “light” as of today!

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Have I told you about how Will likes to share his toys with the ferrets?  He throws them into the ferret’s room, and at first I thought he was throwing things at them, and his toys just happened to be nearby. But then I realized he’s sharing. He’ll play with a favorite toy for a while, then take off toward the ferret room and drop it in there for him.

This morning while they were playing upstairs, Will took one of his trucks over to Fifi and tried to get her to play with it.

He’s a very nice baby. 

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an open letter to the butthole who designed our phones

Dear sir or madam,

My mommy has asked that I write you this letter, because, she says, if she were to write it, it would be less of a letter and more of a pipe bomb. 

I am a toddler. A spirited toddler. I keep my mommy going all the time. I keep her tired, stressed, forgetful, and a little on the edge of sanity. Her whole will to live rests on one thing: my nap time. This is the one time of day she gets to herself. Completely alone. She can do chores, she can knit, she can scrapbook…and, most importantly, she can store up some energy and happiness to get her through the rest of the day.

The problem? I am a light sleeper. Now, heavy sleepers (like my mom and dad) and the parents of heavy sleepers, believe that good sleepers are better people than light sleepers. They believe that it is a skill to sleep through jackhammers and barking dogs and ringing telephones. I am here to tell you that it is not. My mommy and daddy did everything they could do to ensure that I would sleep through such noises–as a baby they never shushed people while I was napping, they always carried on with life at whatever decibel they felt like. But, alas, I am a light sleeper anyway. And if something wakes me from my nap, I am up for the rest of the day.  

What, indeed, does this have to do with you?  Well, dear friend, you have created a telephone that wakes me up. You say this is not your problem. That it is the fault of either (a) the telemarketers who take sick pleasure in calling during naptime or (b) my mother who doesn’t turn off the ringer.

You cannot blame this on my mother.  (Well, you could, but if you do, you’ll end up with that cordless phone right up your butt.) She is, as I mentioned before, a little forgetful through no fault of her own (and every fault of mine). She cannot, it seems, ever remember to turn off the ringer before putting me down for a nap.

Now listen carefully, because this is where you come in. After I go down for a nap and she remembers to turn off the ringer, it is impossible for her to do so, because if she does, the telephone will ring loudly no less than eight times. In order to completely turn off the ringer, you are forced to scroll through all of the ringing options and therefore must listen to it ring in all of its variationsEight ringalings.  Why you thought a person who wanted the ringer completely off would want to listen to it ring at all is beyond me.  But eight?!  You, esteemed inventor, are the very definition of a total and complete Buttface.

My mommy would like you to come to our house and babysit me for 72 consecutive hours so you can truly appreciate the pain and suffering you have put her through. And then she would like you to buy her a new phone, live-in maid, and bi-weekly massage.


William F. P. 

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words from Will

Words he used last week: “kids” and “dogs.”  “Dogs” is a hard one for him–he has a hard time deciding what exactly is a dog, and what is a dit.  This weekend he saw a weaner dog playing in its backyard and he pointed and shouted “dit!”  Because yes, from a distance, weaner dogs do resemble ferrets.

I also feel that I should include “this” and “that” in Will’s vocabulary, because he’s said them for a couple of months.  He points at something and says “dis!” or “dat!” which I wasn’t inclined to think of as actual words until I realized that I am always pointing things out to him and saying “look at this!” or “what is that?”  

In other news, he is being a royal pain in the butt.  I think he’s teething…but more importantly, he’s slept horribly the last two nights and has refused to take a morning nap.  I could handle the nighttime interruptions and lack of sleep if I could get a nap from him in the morning.  But instead all I get are crankies.  This would be a really nice time to live near his grandparents.  “Hey!  Wanna take Will for the night?  He’s at SUCH a cute age.”  mwahahahahaha 

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smart like a ferret

William is so smart it scares me.  The other day I was vacuuming, and when I finished, I unplugged the cord and started winding it onto the vacuum cleaner. Will walked to the other end of the cord, picked it up, walked over to the outlet, and started trying to plug it in.  We have those outlet covers that automatically spring closed every time you unplug something, so he wasn’t in immediate danger, but it was still scary.  We’ve been trying to teach him that cords and outlets = no, but he is just as drawn to them as he is to the tv power button.

On Saturday Will and I ran some errands, and toward the end of the day he’d had enough carseat time. He shouted. He kick his heels. He strained against his harness. And then he stopped. A look of calm and cunning spread over his face, and he STARTED TO FIDDLE WITH THE BUCKLES.  If he’d been strong enough, he totally would have unbuckled the top grey buckle first (just as I do) and then pressed in the red button to release himself. He knew exactly how to do it…and I watched through our baby mirrors in awe. Thank goodness he isn’t that strong!

That’s the thing about raising ferrets alongside babies–Getting Into/Out of Things is Ferret 101. 

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“all done”

Will has his first bad diaper rash, and during his diaper change I was being really gentle, but wiping was still hurting him.  I know this, because not only did he start to cry, he signed “all done.”  It was so sad!

 He did not sign “all done” after breakfast this morning…instead we had another first: he fell asleep in his high chair!  I was knitting next to him, the dishwasher and washer were going, and I think the background noise must have been just perfect, because he nodded off right in his chair…and Will doesn’t do stuff like that!  Sleep is his enemy!  I took some pictures–hopefully I’ll get them posted later this morning.

We’re having friends over for a barbeque tonight.  Will and I will be running errands today! 

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today I…

…left the house at 9:45am.  This was really big.

…met my friend Erin and her Baby Gap model baby Sarah in Old Colorado City for some shopping and lunch at a little bakery there (Tuesdays are French Corn Chowder Day, which makes them my favorite day of the week)

…drove past a cop going 17 mph over the speed limit and didn’t get pulled over. There was absolutely no reason for him not to pull me over. I saw the cop on the side of the road as I blew past him, looked down and saw how fast I was going, stopped breathing, slowed down, watched the rearview mirror…and nothing. The dude must really hate paperwork.

…visited with my friend Courtney and her three kiddos in the afternoon.

…got ice cream in Old Colorado while Will was sleeping in the stroller so that I wouldn’t have to share with him 

…finished the capris I was making for that custom order. 

…enjoyed really warm weather.

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“His only instinct is to destroy everything he touches.”

“So he is a monster.”   “Only a little one.”


Q: The above quotes are:

    (a) Quotes from Lilo and Stitch

    (b) Words heard at the Turchin household daily

    (c) All of the above.

A: (c) All of the above. 

I’m doing my best to raise a caring, thoughtful, obedient, well-behaved child that 1943 would be proud of. But God certainly didn’t give me much in the way of raw materials.

When my parents came to visit, Will treated them to a little shock and awe. They worked hard to come up with a nickname better than “Will the Destroyer.”  It came down to Willzilla or Godwilla. I say we run with Willzilla, because there is nothin’ godly about the trail of destruction Will leaves behind him.

Other babies look out the window. Will looks out the window while eating the wall. I give you Exhibit A:

eating drywall 

Some babies like to build towers. Will likes to knock down the towers that others build.

Some babies like to read books or have them read to them. Will likes to eat books. Or just pull them down off the shelf. I give you Exhibit B:

books down 

Some babies like to play on the floor. Will likes to tear up the floor. I give you Exhibit C, Will pulling up the vents (not an isolated incident):

look!  I made a hole! 

Some babies take naps. Will likes to trick his mommy and daddy into thinking he’s taking a nap…and then rip down the wallpaper border in his room, even though we’d moved his crib away from the wall. I give you Exhibit D, the sight Nic found when he peeked in to check on what we thought was a sweet sleeping Will this morning:


The good news is that he recognizes his destruction as bad. The first time he pulled up the vent I found out about it because he was crying. I went over to him, and low and behold, there was a hole where there had once been vent.

When he’s done something new and destructive, before he even sees our reaction, he makes his “I’m such a naughty boy” face/whine. Now we just have to get him to realize this before he destroys things.

My wall-eating, milk-splashing, wallpaper-tearing, tower-knocking, book-ripping, lotion-eating boy. To be fair, he comes by in honestly. He’s just taking after his mother. In a matter of four days this past week, I managed to drop our camera (with the most expensive lens we own attached to it) on our concrete garage floor and back into our super nice stroller. Nic was able to fix the stroller, and we escaped with just cosmetic damage to our camera body and $110 worth of damage to the lens. I guess when you add it up, $15 for new wallpaper just doesn’t compare.

If Willzilla wants to be the King of Damage in the house, he’s gonna have to work on his game. He just can’t compete with his mommy. 

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my pretties

socks that rock downpour scottish highlands

The yarn whose arrival so thrilled me yesterday.  These are skeins of Socks that Rock yarn from Blue Moon Fiberarts. The left is the Downpour colorway in heavyweight, the right is Scottish Highlands in mediumweight. I can’t wait to finish the capris I’m making for the custom order so I can work on these pretty pretty socks!

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more on will

You can move “milk” into the got-it-down category. Today, after his shots, he got strapped in the car and made the sign for milk.  It killed me that I didn’t have a sippy cup along with me!

He wasn’t so brave for his shots today.  He got two, and I think the tech wasn’t as skilled as he could have been, because Will reacted more than he has in the past. It made me so sad.

I’ve forgotten to write this down, and haven’t managed to get a photo of it yet, but when he does something naughty he makes this face.  All squenched up.  Like “I can’t help myself.”  If you tell him “no” he makes the face, too.  “I want to so badly.”  It’s a face I’ve seen in photos of ME as a toddler.

Two new skeins of yarn arrived in the mail today for me to knit socks with. I’ve been waiting for them for two weeks and Will and I did a happy dance when they arrived.  I’ll post pictures later–they’re beautiful! 

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I thought I’d do an inventory of the signs Will knows right now, at almost 13 months:

Signs he has down pat:

  • more
  • waving:  If you say hello or byebye, he waves.  If you leave or enter a room, he waves. If you go near a door, he waves.  He waves at people, dogs, and cars (probably because he always waves at Daddy as he drives away)
  • shaking his head for no
  • all done (just moved into the “down pat” category this morning) (thanks to a story my mom told about Emily, we started teaching him this weekend)

Signs he’s learning: 

  • milk
  • light
  • water
  • food
  • nursing
  • no (I think he knows what this one means when we do it [closing your fingers together] but he’s never done it himself)

Signs I want to remember to introduce this week:

  • dog
  • thank you
  • gentle
  • touch (combined with “gentle” and “no”)
  • pain
  • hot
  • cold

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lucky eleven

I posted eleven new videos tonight.  Brought to you by my mom and dad–they finally made our extensive “borrowing” (ie–ruthless thievery) official and bought a new camera, gifting the old one to us. I knew all these cute Will videos would pay off! :)

You might want to pace yourself, though…eleven videos is an awful lot of cute to watch in a short time span…

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the latest on will

He is scared of his swing. Sunday he still loved it, since Monday he’s been terrified.  No rhyme or reason.

He is obsessed with his slide. Goes to the sliding glass door and points to it constantly.

He loves to dance. Whenever he hears music he bops and smiles. The dance he does while sitting is my fave. I totally adore that kid. 

This last one has been going on for weeks and weeks, but I’m thinking it’s only going to get worse: Will has no respect for the childproof locks on the cabinets. They open up enough for him to squeeze his arm in there, and he will. He pulls out whatever he can (even opening up the plastic set of drawers I have INSIDE of the cupboard)–like toothpaste, lotion, tweezers, plastic bags, toothbrushes, hairspray, etc…so even our childproof cabinets aren’t safe.  You have to store everything at the back of them so that skinny little arms attached to smart boys can’t grasp them. 

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on the subject of revenge, by william f.p.

(an open letter to toddlers everywhere)

Sometimes mommies get what’s coming to them. As babies we’re at their mercy. What we eat, when we sleep, how long we get to crawl around naked after our baths…they decide it all. And sometimes it’s just not cool.

This morning my mommy didn’t let me play on my slide, even though I went to the window and signed “more.” I mean, this is super cute stuff. It deserves to be rewarded.

But Mommy said she was still in her bathrobe and her mascara was all over her face and her hair looked like the ferrets had slept in it, and she said that since it was 10:30 there was no way even a hobo would go outside.

To make it worse, she tried to blame it on me. ME. William F.P.  She said the reason she was still in her bathrobe at 10:30 this morning was because of the shenanigans I pulled last night. She said that she was getting ready for bed at 11pm when I woke up and cried for an hour. She said that it was Daddy who begged her to come in my room and stand by my crib until I fell asleep. She said I was a crap weasel for waking up again the minute I heard her climb under the covers. She said she almost died of The Tireds while she was standing next to my crib waiting for me to fall seriously asleep until she finally got to go to bed at 1:15am.  She said when I woke up at 5am this morning she was ready to sell Glowey and all of my trains.

This kind of attitude cannot be tolerated. Mommies are mommies. It’s their job. And if they can’t remember to do it with a smile, we must punish them.

This morning I threw all of the clean clothes Mommy had washed and folded last night into the ferret room. I stood at the gate and tossed them all in there. It was Mommy’s fault for leaving the basket in the hall anyway.

When she poked her head out of the office to see what I was up to, I saw the defeat in her eyes.

I got her.

I win. 

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hello spring

Spring poked its head around the corner to say “hello” yesterday. It was a gorgeous day and warm to boot. Will and I went for a walk in the afternoon and the kids on the street behind us had a lemonade stand set up. I was glad I had cash.

Today was equally lovely, so Will and I walked to Safeway to scope out some good dinner options. My mom and dad bought us a barbecue while they were here, and I was eager to be the one in the neighborhood making everyone else thing “darn–wish we’d barbecued tonight.” Hamburger meat was on sale, so it was fate.

Will had his first hamburger (a little tiny baby one Nic and I had fun making). He hated it. Kept spitting it out and throwing it on the floor. Ate all of the asparagus we put in front of him, but refused to eat his hamburger meat. Nic is questioning paternity. 

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You can add “cheese” to Will’s list of words.  This one said exactly like it’s supposed to be.

My boy loves cheese.

Da, ferrets, light, and cheese.  His four favorite things in the world.  I expect “shaved turkey breast deli meat,” “bananas,” and “destruction” to be next. 

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so much walking

My parents just left this afternoon to go back to Seattle, but they got to see SO MUCH walking! And so much progress! 

Will has really taken off with independent walking…this morning he pushed off from the gate at the bottom of the stairs and walking halfway into the living room before plopping down by hid drum–that’s about 20 steps! And then just a couple of minutes ago we were walking around the kitchen.  Will was holding onto my finger and then he let go!  All on his own!  And walked 15 steps to the oven where he pulled down all of my dishtowels. :)

 We’re so proud of all of his walking!

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walking soon

I’m pretty sure William will be a full-fledged walker soon.  Two nights ago as I was getting him ready for bed, he was holding onto the rocking chair ottoman, and out of nowhere he let go, took a few steps, and then flopped himself down on the futon mattress we keep on the floor in there. Yesterday he did that a lot–let go of whatever surface he was using to cruise along and took a few steps to grab onto another surface or to just fall. It’s so cute and stumbly, and he has a tendency to lean his front way far forward, like his top half is moving faster than his legs can keep up with.

I’m really looking forward to when he can walk–he crawls so fast, climbs everything, and is into everything anyway, so I can’t see how that could get worse.  I see lots of things getting better, though–never crawling on gross floors, not having to lug him around, and being able to put him down when I’m standing in line at the post office trying to fill out forms and pack up my packages with TWO hands! 

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the ultimate compliment

Last night Nic gave me a hug and said “I love you so much I could head-butt you right now.”

This is the ultimate declaration of love…at least it is in the Turchin household lately.

Will is a hitter. We’ve been working with him, and it’s getting better. Or, at least, it seemed that way until it appeared to be replaced by head-butting.

If you’re snuggling with Will, or playing with him, or just having a really good time, you might get a quick hug followed by a head-butt right in the face.

And it would be funny, but it really really hurts. We say “no” sternly and it should go away in the next couple of days. But it’s sad, because you can tell by the look on his face that he only wanted to tell us “I love you so much I’m gonna head-butt you right now.”

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12 month well baby

Will had his 12 month well baby visit yesterday. He weighs less than we expected–just 24 pounds, which puts him in the 50th percentile. He was 32.5” long, which put him off the charts again. This has been the story all along–middle for weight, top for height, so he’s our little string bean. I’ll look up his head measurement and add it in later, but he was 50-75th percentile for head, which is where his head has been all along, too. :)

He took his shot like a pro (a pro who bashes himself around daily). I found out that in Colorado, 1/3 of children aren’t vaccinated, and that whooping cough, measels, and mumps cases are so common they don’t even make the news, so I decided to speed up his delayed vaccination schedule, so we’ll be making lots of trips to Peterson for the next few months until he’s caught up to his peers (well, 2/3 of his peers).

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password problems

All the galleries should be working again.  There aren’t any photos in the March gallery, but I had a typo in the password there.

Old Blog Posts: February 2007

so it turns out

That a baby’s stomach is the exact size of a chocolate chip cookie.

I learned last night why mothers have said “you can’t have a cookie–it will spoil your dinner” for centuries. I have never believed that saying. I come from a philosophy that believes that cookies take up zero room in your stomach. There is always room for cookies, and there is always room for dinner.

Apparently this is not true when you’re one.

I gave Will a cookie last night when Nic got home from work, since we were all having my delicious homemade cookies and some milk. But 20 minutes later when we went to feed him dinner, it just wasn’t happening.

He was full to the brim with cookie.

Lesson #312 of mothering boobers: no cookies before dinner, even if they are homemade and delicious.

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there’s no stopping him now.

As we walked down the stairs this morning Will said “dight!” as he pointed up at the lights. And then when I handed him some juice and said “juice” he said “du.”

When I took a glass away from him that he found on the coffee table, he put his hand to his mouth–trying to do the sign for “water” (which we use for anything in a cup) so I got him a cup of his own, and it was just what he’d been asking for.

There’s no doubt about it–he gets that we have a language, and he’s eager to play.

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he won’t say mama, but he will say…


It just figures, doesn’t it? Mama went by the wayside and pretty much everything has been “da!” for the last two months…but now the ferrets are in a league of their own. He’s calling them ferrets.  It comes out “di-dits” or “da-dits” or “ra-rits.”  But the “its” is new and let Nic know what Will was trying to say as he chased them around the bedroom. You can hold out a ferret and say “What’s this, Will?” and the answer comes back clear: “dadits!”

He’s doing so much communicating. These last two weeks have been just a language explosion. I’ve been really sick today, so when I sat down to feed him lunch, working on sign language was the last thing on my mind. But when I said “do you want more?” he brought his hands together–the sign for more.  Not only does he know how to sign when he wants more, he’s able to associate the sign (and the need) with my saying the word. It blows me away.

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We’ve wanted Will to use sign language to communicate with us, but until now, he hasn’t been very receptive, so we tailed off our attempts.  His recent burst of communication (waving, shaking his head “no,” etc.) made me redouble my efforts.  He was doing a modified “lights” sign last night (being his favorite things in the world, I figured that would be an easy one to start with), and today,while mooching off Nic’s ice cream, he signed “more!” :D

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clapping for Will

Yesterday as he was eating breakfast, Will waved his arms around in a weird way. I mimicked him, and he looked at me like I was retarded. So I thought hard about what he was trying to say. And then I remembered. While Joan was here, she played pat-a-cake with him. So I held out my hands, let him grab onto them, and clapped out to pat-a-cake. He beamed. It was just what he wanted.

For the next 24 hours he wanted to do it a lot. So we talked about how much fun we had when everyone was here, and we talked about all the things we remembered from the trip, and we played pat-a-cake (but clapped for the whole thing–he doesn’t like the rolling or the marking with a b, or the toss up at the end–he only likes the clapping part). As we drove around town today on our errands, I could see him in the back, waving his arms towards one another–thinking about the clapping games…

And tonight, at dinner, he finally did it. He managed to clap all by himself.

I’ve never seen a baby so proud of himself.

Or more excited to practice his new skill over and over again.

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lots of changes

For the past couple of months, I haven’t felt that Will was doing anything particularly noteworthy. Nothing to write down in my month log, really. But in the last week it feels like so many changes have come about all at once. He’s communicating with us in a very real way now.

Yesterday when I told him “no” for doing something naughty, he looked at me and frowned and shook his head–totally immitating the way I always look at him and shake my head when he’s naughty.  It was like he was saying “yeah–that’s a bad baby.”

This morning after Nic left for work, Will sat in the laundry room (where the door to the garage is) and waved at the door.  Bye bye daddy.

This afternoon, Will didn’t want to eat his string cheese snack.  But he DID want to feed it to me. So the tables were turned and Baby was handfeeding Mommy. He laughed and laughed–he thought it was the funniest thing ever. And when we were done, I handed him a washcloth so he could wipe MY face with it–and it was like Comedy Central around here.

Right before his nap, Will was playing with his books on the bookshelf. He started to put his foot up on the bottom shelf, and then stopped and just shook his head. That’s right–that’s not allowed.

It’s so cool to watch him understand things. He’s beginning to get the hang of things around here!

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birthday boy

Will is one today. I thought it was time for a couple of Will updates instead of a mushy one year post (which might still be coming at some later point today, but Will had a really bad night, so I’m running on empty).

Will took six steps last night. Heather and Erik were working with him on walking, and sure enough, the boy took six steps all by himself before falling. We wish we’d played that game earlier!  As it was, Will was moments away from a tired it’s-my-bedtime-meltdown, and they left this morning at 5am, so there was no time to repeat the trick.

This morning Will waved goodbye to Nic totally unprompted. Nic was standing in the bedroom door saying goodbye, and Will waved.  And a few moments ago, when Will was playing in the living room, and I was doing dishes in the kitchen, I turned to look at him and he smiled and waved at me. Cutest smartest baby.

Joan stayed home with Will Sunday night so that Erik, Heather, Nic and I could go out. We went to an amazing piano bar linked to the famous Broadmoor hotel–The Golden Bee.  While we were having our awesome time, Heather admitted that at first she and Erik thought we were crazy for telling Will “no” about things. “He’s just a baby!  Telling him no isn’t going to work!”  And then they saw him shake his head “no” at us when he was done eating. And again when I went to hand him off to Heather, when he preferred to be held by me.

And, of course, the most dramatic example of his understanding of “no”–testing the rules. He climbed up on our bottom bookshelf, and Heather and Erik told him “no.” He got down, then looked at them and put one foot on the shelf. Heather and Erik said “no.” So he put his foot down, then looked at them and put it up in the air, hoovering over the shelf.

It’s something Nic and I have seen over and over for the last month or two. We call it the “is this okay?” game. If he bites and you tell him “no,” he’ll stop, then bite you softly. Like “what about this? Is this okay?” And again he hears “no.” So he’ll put him mouth on you and then lift his jaw so that one row of teeth digs into your skin. Like “I’m not biting, so can I do this?” Again–”no.” So he’ll try again, this time just resting his teeth on your skin.

It’s his thing. Finding out the maximum amount of naughty he can get away with. Pushing the boundaries, testing the limitis, and it’s how we know he’s a toddler.

He loves the “how big is William?” game. You don’t even have to put your arms up–you can just ask “how big is William?” and those little arms go up over his head.

He loves to hang out in the laundry room–especially the gap between the washing machine and the wall. He’ll walk in there, then drop down to his knees to crawl out and get stuck–he’s a lot wider crawling then he is walking!

In other family news, we had a great Valentine’s Day. We got a babysitter to sit with Will after we put him to bed so we could go out for Japanese and eat ourselves sick. Nic brought me a beautiful bunch of roses when he arrived home, and I had snuck a handmade card onto his door handle the night before.

Nic’s mom and her friend, and his sister and her fiance were here for Will’s birthday weekend. We are so happy they came–and they did it under pretty exhausting conditions–a red eye flight into Denver on Friday night, and an 8am flight out of Denver this morning!

On Saturday we had Will’s birthday party, on Sunday we went to lunch in Old Colorado City (and stopped at the gorgeous [thought snooty] yarn store to pick up yarn so Heather could make her first pair of socks [she picked gorgeous green tweed chunky weight yarn that is knitting up so fast she’s doing laps around my piddly socks]), and yesterday we got to go see the cliff dwellings that I’ve wanted to visit since moving here. Pictures and videos to come on the other site later today.

In other news about the other site, Heather let me know that I had a capitalization problem with the passwords–the video password was capitalized, but the others weren’t. I’ve changed it so that they’re all lowercase now.

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guest author: Will.

“How to Get Three Baths in One Day,” by William F. P. T.

Okay, kids. If you’re anything like me, you love taking baths. But you probably only get one bath a day, right before bed. If you’d like to change that, here’s what you do.

Step one: Poop in your diaper while you’re playing quietly by yourself. Make sure it’s squishy and stinky. Your mommy will say “Oh, I smell poops,” and go to get the supplies. This is when you make your move–sit down and rub your butt just the right way so that it squirts out the side of the diaper. Sit cross legged so that you can get your feet in it. Then put your hands in it. Make sure you get it all over the carpet. This will be important later.

When your mom comes back, she will probably take a deep breath and say “oh holy mother of God.” Give her a big smile so that she knows this isn’t about her, this is just about getting more baths. Try to be patient while she does the prelimary wipe-down. You’ll get your bath, you just have to wait a minute.

Next, your mommy will run you up the stairs, holding your body as far away as hers as she can. This is your clue that bathtime is next.

Step two: Enjoy your bath.

Step three: This is where the poop all over the carpet comes in. After your mommy dries you off and puts a diaper and a new shirt on you, she’ll leave you upstairs to play so that she can clean up your poop. You should crawl over to your pet ferrets and talk to them over the baby gate. When they say “Hey!  Let us out, big tall naked king ferret!  We’ll let you chase us around!” you should listen to them. They know a thing or two, and you should pull down the gate for them. But do it quietly so that your mommy can’t hear. But if she’s anything like my mommy, she will probably be so wrapped up in her precious carpet poops that she wouldn’t hear a train crashing into the living room.

Step four: Now is the big moment. Leave the ferret chasing for later–this part is crucial to getting that second bath. Crawl into the ferret room where you are never allowed to go. Now, whether or not you actually play in the litter box is up to you. The important thing is to make your mom think there is a chance–however small–that you might have somehow touched poop or pee.  Me? I don’t think I did, but I can’t remember.

Step five: Get very very quiet. This is important, because if you are quiet for long enough, your mommy will shout up to you “Baby, you’re too quiet–what are you up to?” and come bounding up the stairs. This is where it is important for her to catch you in the ferret room. I was carefully posed over the cage, eating ferret food. It was delicious.

Step six: Enjoy your second bath of the day. Smile a lot, otherwise your mommy might start to think you don’t love her.

Step seven: Wait until your daddy gets home so you can have your bedtime bath. I can certainly think of ways to get more baths, but it’s important to play your hand carefully. Every mommy has her limit, and with mine, more than three baths might make her run away.  Me and Daddy need her for snuggles. (and dinner, too.)

PS–even with all of the baths and carpet cleaning, Mommy managed to put up three new videos of me.

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I finished my first full-sized sock yesterday. Actually, I finished it twice. The first time I botched the grafting pretty badly and decided to rip it out and try again. This was NOT easy. But worth it.

To motivate myself to make the sock’s mate, instead of just going on to a new project, I wore my sock all day. Just one. The other foot was very cold, and helped to impress upon me that one sock does not a finished project make. It makes for one dejected foot. Hopefully, in another two weeks, I’ll have two socks, and two happy feet.

It’s a little “Joseph’s Technicolor Sock” like, but I wanted to use fun yarn, and when I gave Will a choice between several (including a very tasteful plain navy), this was his pick. It’s loud and obnoxious. Not unlike Will.;)

(PS–I think I fixed the comments section. Feel free to test it out by telling me how brilliant my sock knitting skills are.)

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dumb as a stump

I just discovered today that this blog has “comment moderation” meaning I have to approve a comment before it shows up.  And all this time I had been wondering why no one had left a comment!

Sometimes I can be pretty dumb.

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some people

Some people use hair products to style their hair. Not William Francis. Will prefers to use squished banana to style his hair into peaks and curls.

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why is it?

Why is it that the 10% off coupon arrives the day after you drop $600 on new lighting fixtures at Lowes?  sigh.

We’re working on getting rid of the U.G.L.Y. brass stuff the house came with.  First stop–lighting fixtures.  Next–replacing doorknobs and hinges.  After that we’ll paint a wall in the living room, finally take down the creepy Angel Bathroom, tackle the kitchen cabinets, and put Pergo all through the downstairs.  Hopefully we’ll get it all done just in time to move and not enjoy the fruits of our labor. ;)

I put up a bunch of pictures of Will being a little daddy’s helper–climbing around at the base of the ladder while Nic worked. Will, a huge connoisseur of light fixtures and ceilings, was totally excited to see all the new lighting when he woke up the morning. He kept crawling from room to room, looking up at the chandeliers and giggling.

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oh man.

After watching me lock the dishwasher and walk away, Will went over, flipped the switch, opened the door, and crawled onto it.

This kid is in cahoots with childproofing companies.

If he put half as much effort into walking as he does climbing and opening, he’d be running by now.

In other news, I posted three new videos on smugmug. :)

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blowing bubbles

While Will was in the bath tonight, I said “blow bubbles, baby!” and blew some air bubbles. Immediately, he farted, and a dozen bubbles escaped from his butt.

That wasn’t what I’d meant, but I appreciated the effort anyway.

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the train birthday

Will’s birthday party is train themed, because we’re giving him his first train set!  Everyone’s been asking which one we’re getting, and I finally ordered it today, so here’s the scoop (good thing Will can’t read):

We got him the Brio mountain adventure set (let’s be honest–we got that one because it was the one Nic liked the best, and for the next 6 months Nic’s probably going to be the one playing with it the most), the milk wagon (cause I love milk), the fuel wagon (it’s never too early to teach him that fuel=money), and the car transporter (cause I thought it was cute).  If you already got him any of those pieces, it’s all good–that’s the beauty of train stuff–the more cars/engines/mountains/track, the merrier!

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strange boy

Will loves V-8. Can’t get enough of it. Which is pretty cool.

What is not so cool is his other favorite drink–coffee. I came downstairs Saturday to find Will climbing all over Nic. “Save me!” Nic whined, as he held his coffee cup over his head.

It turns out that in an effort to get Will to leave his coffee alone, Nic let Will have ever-so-tiny-a-sip. Nic figured that once Will tasted it, he’d realize it was gross and go find other games. But Will didn’t that it was gross. He thought it was the elixir of the gods. Poor kid. He’ll have to wait another 16 years before he’s allowed to have it again.

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it’s over

In addition to the arm chair, the dining room chairs, and Nic’s office chair, Will has found a way to climb up onto my desk.

My life as I knew it is officially over.

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mr. independent

Will likes to do things on his own, thank you very much. Meals are always a little tricky, because Will wants to hold the spoon and feed himself. We always give him an extra spoon to hold to keep things a little bit better under control…but on Friday when I gave Will a spoonful of his oatmeal, he spit it out of his mouth into his hand, put it on his spoon, and then fed it to himself. Thanks, Mother, but I’ve got this.

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will’s shouts

(ranked in order by how much they increase my heart rate) 4. The glee shout. 3. The I’m unhapy shout. 2. The “I’ve got a hold of a ferret by her side fat” shout (very similar to the glee shout). 1. The “I’m up high somewhere and can’t get down” shout. In other news, my friends and I opened up a little online store today. We are very excited–the pink hat and pants are mine.

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so here we are

This is my new blog. Same momma, same tolerant daddy, same cute baby, same silly “Will touched his elbow for the first time today” details. Just a new address and a slightly different focus.

The other blog walked a weird line between being an attachment-parenting/natural-living advice manual, a Scrapbook Blog (and all the craziness that entails), a keep-the-family-updated place, and a provide-an-audience-for-my-writings venue. This is just a keep-the-family-and-friends-updated journal. So you won’t have to hear any more about cloth diapers (unless we should have some catastrophic and tragically entertaining diaper malfunction) or rambles about my new Safeway friends.  I want to channel that time/energy into freelance writing (so cross your fingers and you could read about my new Safeway friends in actual magazines…which will probably be the end of my Safeway friendships).

Photo-a-day is also getting phased out–I’m going to be uploading photos to now (to a password protected account). The good news is that you’ll be able to buy 4×6 (or 36×120 if you really really love it) prints of the photos you want to have and the previews will be bigger than the old site. The bad news is that I’m not calling it Photo-a-Day anymore.  Starting with Will’s 1st birthday, I’ll be calling it Photo-When-I-Get-Around-to-It.  If you saw the nasty cut and black eye that Will is currently sporting, you would agree with me that this is the wisest course of action.  All eyes on Danger Boy, all the time.

Speaking of which, it’s time for me to go back to being a mommy. Which today involves trying to tame The Laundry Monsters that are invading our downstairs. It is a sad state of affairs when every member of the household must run downstairs completely naked at the start of each day to find some clean underwear.