white apples . a blog

my baby in the hood

We are having a very welcome warm spell here in North Carolina, so Baby Owen is rolling around (and I do mean rolling around and around and around) in just his cloth diaper today. But this was not the case last month when the weather was frigid and my snuggle bear was outgrowing his winter clothes at an astonishing pace. Did you know that it is near impossible to buy a warm baby jacket at the end of January? This is because stores have already restocked their shelves with their "Spring lines". Store employees scoff at the very idea of buying winter clothes in... the middle of winter (much like when I tried to buy a toddler swimsuit in August). They wave me in the general direction of the clearance corner and walk off, shaking their heads.

As infuriating and logic-defying as this was, it gave me the perfect excuse to sew up a Baby-in-the-Hood jacket from Anna Maria Horner's fantastic book, Handmade Beginnings.

Much like the others in the book, this pattern came together pretty easily. My button placket was slightly wonky, but I was in a hurry to finish and get my baby boy into a jacket that didn't squeeze his midsection like a sausage casing.

Unfortunately for Owen, the vast majority of my fabric stash is fairly girly. After digging into bins and rearranging shelves, I came up with these two (which are a bit similar to the fabrics that AMH used in her book). The elephant fabric is a cotton canvas from Daiwabo Japan and the cozy flannel lining is from Anna Maria Horner's Folksy Flannels collection. This combo made for the perfect Owen-weight jacket. He tended to overheat in the poofier fleece winter jackets (plus they constricted his movements... and he is constantly moving). I love the hood and cuff accents and the wooden buttons on this jacket. I can't wait to make him another one (or two) next year.

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

*** *** ***

inspired by Amanda Soule. join in on her blog.

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

*** *** ***

inspired by Amanda Soule. join in on her blog.

making some art

In the mornings, Juniper tends to get a bit antsy because we are stuck inside while the baby sleeps. In the interest of keeping her occupied and away from the television, we've been experimenting with paints - a little finger painting, a little wet-on-wet watercolor (my favorite). "Make some art?" she asks most mornings.

To protect her mama-made jammies (we spend all morning in our jammies around here), I made her this little art smock from Kokka's matroyshka doll oilcloth, using this tutorial by Make It and Love It. Juni loves to put it on before we start any project. Next time, I will make it a tad longer for my ever- growing little artist.

miles of smiles

I had assumed that baby smiles were hard won. Juniper had a great smile but she certainly made us work for it. Peekaboo had no effect. She wasn't ticklish. And she wasn't amused by my attempts at funny faces. To get a Juni-smile, I would dance her around the house, bouncing wildly up and down. I would perform the most animated version of Itsy-Bitsy Spider possible, complete with silly, exaggerated hand gestures. You Are My Sunshine was also good for a smile now and then. 

So I am still amazed at how easily and how often this little boy smiles. I only have to look in his direction and he will burst out with a smile that swallows up the whole room. He spends most of his day smiling. In fact, not just smiling, but laughing, giggling, throwing his head back with hearty guffaws. If you happen to hit one of his many, many tickle spots, he will start laughing hysterically. And all of this happy is accompanied by a series of excited coos and chortles and unintelligible baby exclamations. He chats constantly - with me, with his sister and his daddy, with his toys and his play mats, with his fingers and his toes.

For the most part, Juni was a silent, zen baby, completely content unless she was hungry. In fact, hunger was the only reason she ever cried. Baby Owen is my sensitive one. He cries when he's tired or uncomfortable, when he hears a loud noise or the sound of me scolding a wayward toddler, when his diaper is too tight or he has a hair near his mouth (panic! PANIC!!). But usually all you have to do is smile at him and his cries will change to silly baby giggles. He can't help himself. He is our big (BIG!) happy goofball.

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

*** *** ***

inspired by Amanda Soule. join in on her blog.

two peas

I had assumed that the novelty of having a baby around would have worn off by now for Juniper. I've kept my eyes open for signs of jealousy or resentment or just plain indifference. But no, she loves her baby brother, her "little, little baby brovahh." She showers him with hugs and kisses all day long. She gives him toys and snuggles and sweet pats on his head. She always wants to sit with him. She narrates his every movement, sometimes a little too loudly, "Baby Owen NAPPING!!"

Owen doesn't wake up until around ten or eleven, so Juni and I have the whole morning to ourselves. We make smoothies for breakfast or bake cookies or paint pictures or dance in giddy circles around the dog. But as soon as she hears Baby Owen stirring on the monitor, she races up the stairs. "Baby Owen awake!" she yells, "Needs hugs!" We pile onto my bed to snuggle with the baby. She just about smothers him with love and excitement and joy. And Owen positively lights up when he sees her. They giggle and laugh and roll around.

I'm sure in the not-too-distant future there will bickering and elbowing and the unavoidable tears of two siblings tumbling through childhood together; but today, I treasure these moments and I know that they will always have each other. For when they need hugs.

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

*** *** ***

inspired by Amanda Soule. join in on her blog.