This has nothing to do with sewing

I'm terribly proud of my two-year-old when she says please, thank-you and you're welcome without any prompting from me or my husband. But even closer to my heart than her precocious politeness is her sense of humour. Just 27 months old and she's already mastered the spoof song. She's a regular Baby Yankovic. A sampling:

— "A spoonful of poop makes the medicine go down.."
— "Hey poop, don't be a poop. Take a sad poop and make it poo-oo-oop..."
— And, of course: "Twinkle, twinkle, little poop.."

I don't want to pigeonhole the girl at such a young age, but I think her genre is really potty-training-meets-Mad-Libs. Her set list would kill on the birthday party circuit.

She also has originals. Like "The Nipple Song," which goes like this: "I want to pinch, pinch. I want to pinch, pinch. I want to pinch, pinch...Mommy!"

Of course, poop and boobs are very funny.  But it can really wear you down when your boobs are the butt (heh heh) of every joke your toddler makes. Whenever I take my shirt off to change or whatever, she points at me and says, "heh heh...boobs," just like Beavis and Butthead, a pop-culture reference she's about 20 years too young for.

The funniest things kids say are often totally unrepeatable unless you're in the company of other parents who totally understand that kids are just absurd and super crude. Like the other night when I was having a bath with her (parentless friends: we're not actually a super nude hippie family. This is something you must do from time to time...say, when your toddler refuses to get in the bath even though she repeatedly ran her spaghetti-sauce-covered hands through her long blond hair during supper and she looks like Carrie — not Bradshaw, that one from the '70s covered in pig's blood). So we're in the tub and when she pokes my boob, lifting it up slightly,  I say, "What exactly are you doing, young lady?" Her reply: "I'm looking for food. Rice cakes and Snap Pea Crisps." Beat. Laughter (hers).

Now, no lady wants the kind of boobs capable of hiding stray Snap Pea Crisps. Remember in (the animated version of the graphic novel) Persepolis when two women are talking about how to tell if your boobs are crap or not: stick a pencil under your breasts. If it falls, they're great. If you can hide a bag of Snap Pea Crisps under them, you're outta luck, old lady.

Of course, she only has herself to blame.

I'm working on a new pattern today for something very fun. AND I'm going to have another giveaway very soon, though I don't want to kill the excitement by revealing any details just yet. Stay tuned.

Halloween Hangover

A friend of mine recently posted a comment asking why I never post pics of my husband, Ryan. Well, here he is, giving Lucy a shoulder ride on the way to a birthday party/Halloween extravaganza in our neighbourhood yesterday. There will be no pictures of me frolicking with my little Max because I have a Hitler mustache coldsore right now (that is, a coldsore directly under my nose that gives me a somewhat Hitlerish look at first glance). Having a Hitler mustache coldsore is a mixed blessing. It really makes you appreciate how you normally look. It's also a good time to think about people in the world who have real problems. That's because a Hitler mustache coldsore is what I like to call a "First World Problem." Calling it that helps me to just get over myself for the moment. Not enough to actually post a picture of myself with a Hitler mustache coldsore. But enough to actually go out to a Halloween party. (Do you admire me for my strength?)

Anyway, Halloween was great fun. Also, 173 people have downloaded my Max costume pattern over at Burdastyle.com, and the 15-month-old winner of my Max giveaway received his handmade costume in time for Halloween in St. John's, Newfoundand. Apparently his parents are going to have a hard time taking it off him. Also, I have a Texan friend who thinks Newfoundland sounds like a place fairies might live. I've never been (NL is a long way from my home and native land on the west coast of Canada), but that sounds about right.

Max Costume Pattern and Tutorial

It's been 24 hours since I posted it and already 41 people have downloaded my Max costume pattern at Burdastyle.com! It may be a small achievement, but I'm pretty stoked. It's the first pattern I have posted at this super rad open-source sewing website. I hope there are many, many Maxes running around next Sunday. The world would be a cuter place because of it.

I can't seem to attach a PDF to a Blogger post, so if you want to make your own Max, you can download the PDF at Burdastyle.com here: http://www.burdastyle.com/patterns/toddler-size-max-costume.

The instructions follow the jump:

Max Costume Giveaway Winner

You'll have to trust me that I was totally fair in using a random number generator to choose the winner of the Max costume. I meant to take a screen shot of the number, which determined the ultimate winner: Alexander from St. John's, Newfoundland. But I forgot, and then I surfed away from the screen. You all know you can trust me though, right? Especially because I don't even know Alexander, or his son, Xavier, who is apparently going to be super stoked when his new Max costume (hopefully) arrives this weekend.

I really wish there was enough time and enough white fleece to make all who entered a Max costume. But I'll be posting instructions soon for anyone who cares to make their own.

Max Costume Giveaway!!! (Comment to enter)

 

You probably don't have yellow eyes, but I bet Lucy here (pictured in the cozy Halloween costume I designed and sewed this week) could tame you by staring into them if you did (or maybe you do. Maybe you're two days old and have jaundice. I don't know who's reading this thing). Anyway, I don't want to waste your time making fun of infants overdosing on bilirubin. That was actually a reference to Max, protagonist of Where the Wild Things Are — one of the best children's picture books of all time and a current favourite in our home. Every children's book writer should look to that book as a model of just how brilliant a picture book can be. I still haven't seen the Spike Jonze film adaptation. It's on our Netflix queue, but my husband is so sentimental, I don't think he could handle it. He gets sad looking at strangers' baby photos because "they're all grown up now and isn't that just so sad????" (His words.) Especially when a song like Boyz II Men's "It's So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday" is playing. That just kills him.

Anyway, when my toddler asked to be Max for Halloween, I was stoked. She has good taste, clearly. But also I thought it would be fun to design and draft the pattern for it myself.

  

 Here she is holding up the jellybeans I used to bribe her to put on the costume today on our fall family road trip to Connecticut. (Exhibit A that I am not afraid to provide incentives, like any good boss. We all need a Christmas bonus as motivation now and then.)

 

On Monday I am going to post a pattern for anyone who cares to make their own Max costume. But luckily for you, lazy jaundiced baby, I bought too much white fleece at the WalMart in Upstate New York, which means I am making another one to give away. It's sized to fit an average two-year-old, though it could probably fit anywhere from 12-30 months, depending on how chubby/tall the kid is. All you have to do is comment on this post to enter. If you don't have a toddler of your own, enter to win it for a friend's. You have until midnight Monday (Eastern time). I will email the winner Tuesday morning, and get it in the mail that afternoon. Hopefully it will get to you by Halloween. If not, it can go in the Tickle Trunk (American friends: "Tickle Trunk" is not what you think. Totally wholesome. Look it up). Let the wild rumpus start!

P.S. If you post anonymously, I can't include you in the contest! I need to be able to contact the winner.