Anna-girl

I just finished knitting a new sweater for Anna and took some pictures of her modeling it for my Ravelry page.  And she was too cute, so I couldn't pick just a few pictures...so the rest of them are here:

Here she comes to save the day...

I just finished sewing a dress for Anna and I talked her into modeling it outside so I could take some pictures.  She chose her own accessories, however, and I can't quit laughing at the photos:

A princess AND a superhero!  Awesome beauty and awesome powers!

The dress is the only part of that ensemble that I made, but I sewed it from knit fabric, which made me feel like a bit of a superhero myself!  I really wanted a picture of the dress by itself so I could add it to the Kids Clothes Week flickr pool, so I talked Anna into taking off the cape for a second.

Take off the cape? Mmkay.  Stand still and smile?  Nah.  Dance moves?  Why, sure!

Okay fine, one smile for the camera.

Do you see how well those stripes line up?  Only because I paid NOT ONE second of attention to that while cutting out the fabric or seaming the sides.  I really didn't think the dress would turn out, so I ignored the whole stripe-matching detail.  And of course, since I ignored it, they matched up almost perfectly.

The neck pleats are all lop-sided, but she doesn't stand still enough for anyone to notice.

Alright, off to save the world!

She was all bravery, until she ran into a bee near the front door...

...then she was all about running for her life...

...and decided superhero princesses have more fun inside.  Eating snacks. :-)

Potty Predicaments

I have to add one more story from Hawaii, and I think it's proof that Anna inherited some genes from Nana.

As background, I spent most of my childhood thinking that a public toilet seat could possibly kill me, based on the fact that my mom was careful to cover those toilet seats with a comprehensive layer of toilet paper before letting us come near them.  I'm not quite as germophobic, although I still use the toilet paper trick.  Anna never seemed bothered by public toilet seats in the past--in fact, she decided to toilet train herself on our trip to DC and New York last spring, and was eager to use every single public toilet between Manhattan and Daytona Beach.

Well, things have changed.

About two hours into our flight from Dallas to Honolulu, she announced she needed to go.  I took her to the airplane bathroom and managed to wedge both of us inside and close the door.  Anna took a long look at the toilet, then looked at me and solemnly said, "Mama, I can't use dat potty."

We went back and forth for a bit, me explaining that it was the only available potty for the next 6 hours, Anna vehemently refusing to sit on it.  Finally, I just picked her up and plopped her on the toilet seat.  She did her business, but with a big scowl on her face, saying "Dis is not a good idea.  Dis is a bad, bad idea."

The next day, after we finished breakfast at Anthony's Coffee House in Paia, we all decided to use their facilities since we weren't sure where we'd encounter restrooms along the Hana Highway.  Will and John went first; I knew there might be a problem when they got back and John was shaking his head.  He handed me the key to the toilet, attached to a big spoon (never a good sign), and Anna and I walked outside along an alley to the bathroom, located outside on the back of the restaurant.

We opened the door.  Anna just looked at me and said, "No."

I tried to entice her by putting some toilet paper down.

"No.  Dat's a dirty potty!!  Dat's a very dirty potty, Mama!"

So I gave her the airplane treatment and just put her on it.  She complained the entire time and let me know that she was very, very unhappy with where she'd had to park her tush while on this vacation.

I told her Nana would understand. :-)

Who's afraid of the big bad vacuum?

My mom likes to tell a story about my fear of vacuums as a young child.  Apparently I was so frightened of  our upright vacuum that Mama could simply place it outside my bedroom door (not turned on) and I would be too scared to come out of my room.  Sounds like a good way to get some peace and quiet for half an hour, right?

Well, I think a genetic component may exist to that specific phobia--because this is what Anna has started to look like when I turn on the vacuum:

So pitiful!

I thought we would just have to live with dirty carpets, because it's not like I can vacuum while she's napping anymore (that used to work).  I tried holding her and vacuuming at the same time, and she still cried and tried to climb me like a tree--so clearly that wasn't a good solution.  Finally, I decided to try placing her on the couch, and...

"Oh, yeah, Mr. Eureka...just try to get me now!"

Now, I'm just wondering if I can put that thing outside her bedroom door and maybe get myself an hour of quiet sewing or computer time?

Dinnertime with Anna

Welcome to America!

Hi there! This is Anna posting--I decided that Nana, Papa, Aunt Missy, and Aunt Laurie might be a little sad to be back from their trip, so I wanted to cheer them up a little bit.

I don't know much about post-vacation letdown...

But does it feel a little like being left in a crib by your mama, with only a mobile and pacifier for comfort, after you have emphatically told her that you do NOT care for a nap?

Does it feel sad like that? Because I'm well acquainted with that kind of heartbreak.

Mama says that everybody loves baby fat rolls, so I thought a few pictures of me in my skivvies might cheer y'all up. So here we go:

Just remember, the camera and the cloth diaper add about 5 pounds.

Or maybe 10 pounds.

Okay, I hope that makes y'all happy! And I'm glad you're back stateside...now how 'bout coming to see me?!

Love,

Anna