I believe I have a Stalker.

I think the dog is stalking me. I have a stalker dog. Even though everyone feeds him, he seems to always come into the kitchen and give me that "hey, are you gonna feed me?" look. And then he proceeds to sit everywhere I want to walk until I finally give in and fill the bowl. Maybe it's because I actually wash out the bowl and always give him fresh water. . .

And to answer the endless question "How do you do life with FIVE kids????" -- here's how it is when they're sick: I'm running a hospital. Dr. Mom indeed.

JB has had the flu, the real thing, and thank goodness for that EMT training I took years ago and had to buy a blood pressure cuff and stethoscope. I now can listen myself to hear whether or not she has "ralls," that crackling sound in her lungs that tells me she needs to be checked for pneumonia. So far, so good -- no ralls.

Bunny has some kind of rash all over her arms and shoulders. From everything I can find on the web, it's either Swimmer's Itch or bites from some sort of chiggery-animal that crawled out of the boxes into her brand new State Swim Meet T-shirt. She's miserable with itching, having put on Benadryl itch gel, deoderant, and whatever the anti-fungal athlete's foot spray was that Hunk 'O Man got her last night. I also gave her oral Benadryl -- we'll get over to the real Dr. on this one tomorrow if it hasn't stopped. At least it's stopped spreading. An Aveeno bath helped last night somewhat. She's still talking at lightspeed, so it can't be that bad. And she was also pretty ticked off when I talked about it and had her show some of the other moms while getting haircuts. That's always a good sign.

Bug is hacking and coughing, as am I. Hunk 'O Man and Rose and Baby are all fine. Hey, 3 out of 7 ain't bad, right? Eahhhh -- matter of time. Not to be a pessimist, but it is that time of year. And you don't need insurance at my hospital. The food is good, the care is comfy and nice, and I never make you wear those silly gowns. It's always your own clean pj's.

I got quite a bit of sewing done on Friday night, before all the itching and throwing up began. I got the greatest magazine at Sam's Club the other day -- "Quick Stuff to Sew." It's put out by Taunton, who publishes one of my favourite magazines, "Threads." Taunton seems to put out a pretty quality-laden magazine, and I love both the articles and the adverts. Both take me to fun places that I love discovering.

Anyway, so they had this cute little bag project, and I thought I'd try it. It's on pg. 29, the "Pleated Pouch." It turned out somewhat nominally cute -- I'm thinking I'm going to add a handle and tag it a real purse. I used some tapestry fabric I'd gotten for purses, and some trim I had. I'm not sure I like the shape or size entirely, but here it is:



Then, after several random girls walked in and out of the sewing room declaring, "That's so cute! Can I have one? When are you going to make me (insert item here)?" I got irritated. I think I was tired of being sick, kids getting sick, etc. Also, there have been innumerable tiffs over things like having to clean up the kitchen and whether or not events have to be attended, etc. Anyway, I thought 'that's it! I'm going to make something just for me!' And I got out Simplicity 3673, and I both drafted the pattern and fit a muslin bodice.


I haven't sewn for myself in some time. The last time I remember, my measurements were about 2" smaller all around. What a shock! At least I'm proportional, I thought. At any rate, I did get the muslin to fit, and proceeded to cut out the babywale cord that I found on Ebay to make this. . .


Then I remembered I'd forgotten to wash it -- so I did a load of laundry. Funny how something fun leads to work. Not that I really mind doing laundry; it has always been a source of quiet and organization and order in my crazy, noisy world. I admit I hate the whites load -- all those socks and pairs of panties to sort -- but once it's all done, I always feel a great sense of accomplishment.


And the finished little purse for JB, made from Dollar Tree placemats:


Since I couldn't cut out my jumper, I decided to start on the purse I've been promising to make for Rose. This one is based on a cute little corduroy bag I picked up at Aeropostale last summer. I then found some April Cornell placemats at Carolina Pottery, and some matching napkins, and I cut them apart and made my own little version of the Aeropostale bag. I made three total, and still have one. It's the black and pumpkin one, on the left.





So Rose had picked out some fabric I had, and asked for a purse. Since I've used up all the placemats and napkins I bought before, this meant I had to basically quilt a placemat, and then use it to make the bag. So I got out the fabric, and then some gingham to use as a backing fabric, and some quilt batt handed down from my mom, and got to work.






It was a lot of sewing, but went quickly. I had it done in about 45 minutes total. This gives me great hope that I will get faster at the process as I do more of these.


That's all I did -- it got late and then JB came home throwing up, so it was time to quit and change professions from craft mom to Dr. Mom.


Yesterday was finally haircut day, much to Rose's delight. Our good friend Kendall was in town from Raleigh, so she cut everyone's hair. The biggest change was JB,










who went from very long to a very short Victoria Beckham-sort-of-do: She looks GORGEOUS!


She, Rose, and Baby all cut off their tresses in ponytails to send off to Locks of Love. This wonderful organization uses the hair you send them to make wigs for cancer patients. It takes 10" of hair, cut off in a ponytail, and both the website and your hairdresser can give you details.

This means especially a lot to Baby, whose best friend Amber has Hodgkins disease and has lost all her hair to chemo. Amber is just 12. But good news last week -- she's in remission! Thank you God!

And now it is time to take the Bunny to the real doctor and see about these bumpy itchy creeping crud stuff thingys she has all over herself. I think it will be a largely wasted trip, and he'll probably just say what I've thought all along -- itch cream and wait for it to go away. But you never know.

And maybe we can fit in a swim and a visit to Ms. Myrtle today as well. Myrtle is one of the delights of my life. She is 83, quick as a whip, and funnier than all get out. She's married to Wylie, her 5th husband, who is 92. They are quite a pair. And time is short with them; they're right at the "jumping off place," like Ms. Threadgood said in "Fried Green Tomatoes." Best to make good use of that time with them now, and glean all that I can from the wonder of their lives.

Stalker dog is sleeping. I'd better try and sneak away while I can.