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eleven months

Today our Baby is eleven months old. ELEVEN! Can you believe it? I can't. Though as Hubs and I were batting around that old cliché today (oh, where did the time go...a blink of the eye... so fast) I said to him, "actually, I feel like I've earned every one of those eleven months sometimes." There were a couple of hard days there, if you know what I mean, and when I look in the mirror, I can see them all. Right there around my eyes. Harumph.

But seriously, I'm very proud of my little/big eleven month old baby. So today I followed him around the house trying to get the perfect "eleven month old" picture, to commorate this day. But of course, it was folly to even attempt it, because that kid does not stay still for even a second, I'm telling you. So instead of the one perfect picture, I bring you a series of picture. Baby in motion, if you will.  Yaaay abacus! Both math and percussion at the same time! Shake-a, shake-a!

I love little hands so much. I love how his hands are never still. Even the one not doing the touching and poking and prodding is always off in the air doing a little dance of its own. 

And would you look at how tall this Baby is? His reach range is ridiculous. You should see how high we have to put the alphabet magnets up on the fridge in order for them not to become alphabet snacks. 

And I'm telling you, these kids cannot leave each other alone. Which is alternately heart warming and really, really annoying. At its best they are both laughing like crazy at each other's antics, and at worst they are, er, re-appropriating each other's toys. (Often during the hour before dinner I'll separate them, with one behind the baby gate upstairs and the other in the play pen in the dining room. Its the only way to get some peace during dinner prep.) 

This baby is funny and he knows it. Also, he loves to laugh. He's at the age where he's learned how to play games, which is so freakin' adorable. This is one of his favourites. It's a game we call "Where did the Baby go?" It's most commonly played after bath or during diaper changing time, when he loves to escape my ministrations and crawl as fast as he can into his brother's room across the hall and hide behind the door. Then the Little Dude and I make a big show of wondering out loud about where the Baby could have gone to. And after a suitable moment of suspense, he crawls out from behind the door to reveal himself, shrieking with laughter. He's usually buck naked when he does this, which makes it even funnier. 

He also spends a lot of time in front of this big window, looking out, watching the cars, smacking the glass with his gummy little hand. (You have no idea how dirty this window gets. The cloth I wash it with could be soaked in hot water and used to make soup once I'm done with it.)

And of course at this age there is a lot of 'monkey see, monkey do'.

Are you sensing a theme?

The window treatments in our house get worked pretty hard. So much peek-a-boo. 

After following him around the house for ages, I decided to sit him down in a chair (that was too high to crawl out of) in hopes of getting him to stay still for a portrait. 

So much for that. There is no sitting still. Ant there's just no keeping this kid down. Besides, this pretty much sums him up perfectly at this point in his life. Happy elevenses my big boy baby.

pintrest

Well, there goes what's left of my free time. Sigh. I just got a pintrest account. So, so much fun. Its like a virtual pin board, and you can go all over the internet and pin images onto your themed boards, and it automatically keeps the link to where it is on the internet, so when you want to find that knitting pattern back or where you saw that cute purse, boom, there it is. Its like bookmarking but more visual. And it has the slight thrill of shopping without the drag of spending money. Also, its like collecting but without the problem of filling your house up with stuff you don't have room for. That is to say, its really really enjoyable. But I just sat down at 8:00 and started with it, and all of a sudden its 10:15. Wha.... How did that happen. 

Anyhow, here's a link to my boards, so you can see what I've been 'collecting'. Yep, this has my personality type all over it. If you have an account (or decide to get one), come and follow me so that I can follow you too. I'd love to see what you've been finding. 

now, if you'll excuse me I've got to go back down the rabbit hole.....

birthday thrifting

I got some birthday money from far-away loved ones around the middle of the month. I love birthday money. It fills me with a childish glee at the thought of what I might spend it on. I'm probably not supposed to say that, right? It sounds a bit mercenary perhaps, but my relatives live far away, and we've all decided that buying a gift and then paying almost as much as what you spent to ship it across the country just didn't make sense. Instead we send money or magazine subscriptions. 

Anyways, I decided to spend it on thrifting. I know, that may sound odd when there is a whole mall full of brand spankin' new fashiony goodness just one town away from me. But really, if I need to explain my love of thrift shopping to you, then you just might be reading the wrong blog. I really just wanted to buy a whole lot of fabric and do a whole lot of sewing. And for me thrifting is both shopping and entertainment rolled into one. 

So here's what I got.  First of all, and adorable girl's vintage dress. 

I mean, come on. Could that be any cuter? I'm amassing quite a collection of vintage little girl's wear. And with no one to put it on I'm either going to have to start displaying it as wall art or selling it in my etsy shop. 

ok, and then it was just an amazing day for sheets. This is a very small windowpane check, perfect for backing another Star Wars quilt.

And as you see, I had an assistant/photo stylist helping out with a few essential props in the shots. 

And I was so excited about this one, because I've actually been looking for this sheet for awhile now, and trust me, it is really rare to actually find exactly what you are looking for. I used to have a sheet like this, and I love the colours and it makes such a great quilt back. I'd used up every single scrap of the one I had previously so this was on my wish list, and so fitting that I found it for my birthday!

Lovely floral. Very soft and wash-y. Will be a great back ground for some other stuff. 

This is only a pillowcase (I wish it were a full sheet) but I love it. Its so fun. Sorry about all the wrinkles, I took pictures after I washed everything, and ya'll I generally cannot be bothered to iron. Life is too short to pre-iron my fabric stash. I'm not that crazy. (Says the woman waxing poetic about old besheets. ahem)

A very 80's little pillowcase. Not sure what I'll use it for, but whatever, its cute. 

Not a very good picture, but this is a really nice pillowcase. Great quality fabric. Probably why its so wrinkly. Its going to be so nice to embroider on. 

I have a little ripped smidgen of this in my stash already, but was very happy to find a whole twin sheet of it. I love the weird star shaped flowers. 

I have this one already in pink and greens. I love getting the same pattern in a second colourway. I'm not sure why, but I just love it. 

Ditto for this one. I already have it in aquas and bluey greens. I'm loving this peachy pink version. 

And how fun is this? I love this sort of pattern that goes from dense and fades up to sparse. Very rare now, but quite popular in the 50's. And its that good, old cotton, you can totally feel it in the hand. 

And then, for bib making purposes, I got some lovely smurfs. I already have some smurf sheets, but there's been quite a run on the smurfy bibs in the etsy shop lately, so I feel like its always good to have more on hand. This one is in great shape, very vibrant and unfaded except some idiot has used it as a painting drop cloth. Tsk. But large portions of it are still useable, and I just plan on cutting it up anyhow. 

And look! Strawberry Shortcake! This is quite a coup, as I've been looking for her for awhile now. There were a number of requests at the Christmas craft shows for little Miss Shortcake bibs. So now I can get on that. 

And last but not least, I picked up this weird little throw pillow. Its so crazy and 70's and... hairy. Anyhow, for 99 cents I could not leave it behind. 

So thanks to all my BC relatives who remotely 'bought' me these birthday presents (and more that I didn't have time to photograph). How did you know? They're just what I wanted! 

what is wrong with people

Hubs and I had a rare chance to go out for a movie the other day. The stars aligned, my parents could babysit, we had free passes, and were not too tired. So we headed off to the local googoplex to see what we could see. We decided on Haywire, an action flick, which normally would not have been my first choice, but I'd heard that this was an spy movie which had a woman in the lead role, so naturally my curiosity was piqued. Also, rumor had it she was an actual woman who could really fight, and not a supermodel/stick figure with big boobs. I had high hopes.

And I'll tell you what, I was not disappointed. The lead, Gina Carano, is a Mixed Martial Arts fighter in real life, and that woman can kick some ass. And she has the muscle mass to make it believable. And sure, she was still a very atractive person, but I was so pleased to see that the movie did not give us so many of the femme fatale/female action hero movie cliches. For example, at no point did she run really far and fast wearing high heel boots. I'm telling you, I HATE that in movies. I don't care if you are Wonder Woman, it sucks to run in heels, and you would definitely not be able to outrun someone in flats. Also, there was no gratuitous scene where she a) showers for our the viewers benefit b) gets dressed, from the lingerie up for the viewers benefit c) undergoes a makeover d) pulls a gun out of her garter belt/nether regions e) seduces someone to 'gather intel' f) acts like a silly helpless woman in order to get past some guards or something. Sigh. I could go on. There are so many annoying spy woman cliches. But I'm happy to say that the character Mallory Kane, did not do any of these things. Yes, there was a scene where she had to dress up while she was undercover, and she looked really nice, but they did not make a big deal out of it, or show her getting dressed, which was a nice change. 

But make no mistake about it, this was a violent movie. And of course, even though I knew that the main character was a woman (which is why I went, after all) it was still shocking to see her first fight scene, because its weird to see a woman and a man in a real fight. I winced to see her get hit, because it looked so real. Stephen Soderbergh was the director, and he went for an interesting sort of 60/70's spy flick feel, with a lot of the fight scenes shot so your could seen both actors and their whole bodies the whole time. Which made it both less sensationalistic, and more real. There were not a lot of cuts in those scenes, or close ups, or sound effects. So it was less gory and theatrical, but also more distressing in that you didn't distance yourself from it in the way that a more cartoon-y fight would. 

Anyhow, I say all this to set up the fact that... guess who was sitting next to me at this movie. Wait for it. An eight year old. AN EIGHT YEAR OLD. And her ten year old brother. With their parents of course. There were hardly any empty seats in the theater by the time we got there, so we didn't have much choice, but I certainly hadn't anticipated sharing my movie going experience with Cindy-Lou Who. Serioulsy, what is WRONG with people? That is so not a family movie. Let alone a kids movie. It made me feel really annoyed with the parents. I didn't say anything to them because its not illegal to bring your kids to a violent movie (just stupid) and saying something wouldn't have made a difference. I'm figuring that if you are the type of parent to bring their kids to a movie that has been rated 14A, you are probably not going to be shamed into a better perspective by a stranger's opinion. 

Anyhow, it did put a bit of a damper on my movie going experience. And then the next day I saw this. 

                          Its a documentary about the representaion women in popular culture and the media. It was very, very compelling. A friend of mine posted this trailer on facebook, but I went and found that you can watch the entire documentary online here. Totally worth it. Very well done and informative. I'm not going to go on about it too much here, because you can just watch it for yourself and see how you feel. It gave me a good pinch as it were, because you do get so used to seeing the way that women are portrayed all the time, that you forget that its not, well, normal.

Anyways, I didn't come here today to preach (just complain really, a slight difference). But its just these things have been on my mind, and its good to think about important things once in awhile. Also, I just finished reading Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches from the Front Lines of the new Girlie-Girl Culture by Peggy Orenstein, (a really good read by the way, and important for parents of both daughters and sons. I know its made me rethink some of my parenting and I have boys, not princess obsessed little girls). So I'm in feeling very informed on the whole feminist angle. And you know, whatever is swirling around in my head usually ends up on this blog. I know I usually post cute kids stories or recipes and quilts, but I thought I'd change it up for a worth while cause.  But don't worry, I'll see you back here tomorrow with a thrifting post. 

crumb cake

The other day, as we were finishing lunch with a refreshing, palate cleansing bowl of applesauce, the Little Dude started to talk about recipes. As you know, he's very interested in food and baking lately. If he likes some kind of food, he enjoys ruminating on what other kinds of food that kind of food could be made into. So as he finished his applesauce, he suggested that it was such good applesauce, we should put it in a cake and it would be called "applesauce cake". It would have butter and sugar and flour and applesauce and crackers in it, he told me. 

Well, why not. 

I got out my trusty old Joy of Cooking, and looked up a recipe for applesauce cake. Since it was the weekend and we had Hubs around he whisked the baby away for some playtime, making it much easier than usual to fit a little baking in after lunch, but before nap time. We measured and sifted and stired and poured and all the other actions that make baking so much fun for a three and a half year old. We were just about to mix the wet stuff with the dry stuff when L.D. said "Wait, we forgot the crackers!" I showed him the recipe in the book and said that actually, it said we didn't need to have crackers. "But its and applesauce cracker cake! We hafta put crackers it it!" hm. How bad could that be? So, in the spirit of egalitarian parenting and creative freedom I got out the mortar and pestel for him, and handed him three cornbread crackers, and let him go to town. He gleefully ground them all up and dumped them in with the flour. "This will be delicious!" he told me. 

And he was right. It was a lovely cake, moist and sweet without being too sugary. I suggested we make some frosting, but he was having none of it. How about a little icing sugar to sprinkle over the top. Nope, he just wanted "plain cake". Alright then. So we set the table and invited GranGran over to join us for some tea and the inaugural tasting of the Applesauce Cracker Cake.

And it was very good indeed. 

changes

This morning as we were chatting together after the Little Dude had woken up, he said to me, "last night I sleeped... I slept good." There it was, a little self-correction, a little shift, a conscious attempt to conjugate the verb properly (never mind that it should have been 'slept well', one step at a time people). It was such a little moment, but I stands out as emblematic of the changes happening in our lives. The slow, gradual, constant growing up. 

Today the Little Dude has officially given up his afternoon nap. Or should I say more accurately that I have given up his afternoon nap. Because, really, for the last couple of months its been more for him than for me. I needed that hour of silence and quiet far more than he did. And I've clung to it as the little break in my day when I don't need to help anyone do anything. Or pick anyone up. Or tell them not to take a toy away from their brother. Or tell them 'no' or redirect them to a more appropriate activity. Or run over and pull anything out of their mouths. Or tell them to put. that. down. right. now. Man, do I love nap time. I sit. Still. And have a cup of tea. And drink it while it is still warm. And maybe with a bit of chocolate. And I watch TV, or read, or quilt or do whatever I want. And I'm not willing for that to end. 

But after yesterday's failed nap, during which I went down to the Little Dude's bedroom twice to take books out of his hands, and lay him back in his bed and tell him calmly but firmly that it was nap time, not play time, it occurred to me that maybe I was going about this the wrong way. He never did sleep. But he did stay in his room for an hour and a half all told. Hm. 

So today, I told him he did not have to nap. He could have quiet play time in his room. He wasn't sure about it at first, but I told him that it could be like yesterday. He could stay in his room and look at books or play with his buddies (bunny, bear, turtle, giraffe etc). He just had to be quiet, and calm. And if he felt like sleeping he could, but he did not have to. 

And he went for it. I had a lovely new stack of library books all ready, may of them involving a certain train by the name of Thomas. And he had a cup of water. And all his buddies, and just enough light, but not too much. And aside from a brief interlude when I had to look in on him and tell him that he could sing, but not quite so loudly, he stayed comfortably in his room for over an hour. I had my break and he had his. 

Oh, and this is what his room looked like after quiet time. He'd been told that he could look at any book he wanted, and even take them all off the shelves if he wanted to. He really liked that idea. It had just the right whiff of lawlessness to make his time alone palatable. That kid love his books, but he prefers them off the shelves rather than on. 

Speaking of changes, look what the Baby has learned to do. 

 Yep, a spoon is no longer just for chewing and whacking the table with. Eureka! Also, don't you love the sneeze at the 24 second mark. I know it should be gross, but somehow, when its a baby that does it, it becomes cute. Or maybe its just me. Maybe you're grossed out. Ah, whatever, it made us laugh. 

who in a what?

So this is what my basement looks like today: Did such good thrifting the other day. 50% off day (natch) and I hit up the sheets BIG TIME. I'll try and show you tomorrow. In the meantime, my basement is like one big fort, as they all had to be washed and its too cold to hang them out to dry. The Little Dude is loving it.

I don't know about you, but dinner is really a struggle these days. Every day at about four I'm like, "really, I have to think up something else to cook again? Didn't you people just eat yesterday? Sheesh..." I'm telling you, its the mental work that is the hardest. If I just have a recipe to get excited about and all the ingredients in the house, I'm fine. Its just figuring out what we're going to eat that's really working my nerves. Lately I'm so tired I'd just do freezer pizza every night, if only I could justify it. But I can't. My deal with myself and freezer pizzas are that they are for emergencies only. Days when nobody slept and all the fit hit the shan. So today was a really nice day, with two good naps and therefore, I've go to think up something to cook. A quick look in the fridge revealed a package of turkey sausage. Which made me think of pigs in a blanket. But I'd need one of those awful tubes of dough triangles from the grocery store and it was raining and there was no way I was going to the grocery store. Plus also, what is in those tubes? It can't be good for you. So I thought I'd noodle around on the internet and see if I could make those kind of crescent roll dealies from scratch. 

And as luck would have it, yes you can! I used this recipe. Why did I never try this before? I'll tell you why, because it calls for yeast, and leavened baking is one of those things that scares me, like putting zippers in or using my button holer. Whenever I read a pattern that calls for a zipper, I just turn the page because I know I'm not even going to attempt it. I'd have to change the foot on my machine and that just seems like too much work.

Anyhow, same deal with yeast. It frightens me. Actually, that's dramatic, its more like I'm mildly apprehensive about yeast. But not any more! Because this was a total success. And it didn't even take that long. I left it to rise for 45 minutes and when I took it out of the bowl the texture was so different, it was magical. Both the Little Dude and I could not keep our fingers out of it. 

Then you roll it into a circle and cut it like a pizza. And then you roll it around the sausages (which I split lengthwise, so as to have more pieces to wrap dough around), brush it with a little beaten egg, and voila! Pigs in a blanket, ready for the oven. 

On a side note, I think this makes me a bad blogger. This is a weird recipe to post about. Its not a foodie type thing, nor is it particularly healthy (though they were turkey sausages) nor it is local or organic or any of those bloggable type things. And the pictures are not really good. I was too lazy to get out my big camera, and just used my greasy fingers on the point and shoot. But still, it was really satisfying to make something that I was excited about, that I hadn't done before, and that I had a hunch was going to go over well with all my eaters. 

And while I was making and baking the Little Dude had plans of his own. He talked me through his process and his plans as he set about making a "Gator Cake". I believe this would be a cake in the shape of a gator (small all terrain vehicle) not made with alligators. Indeed the ingredient list was long and varied, but contained no protein of any kind. 

He industriously pulled all sorts of what he calls "gredients" out of the cupboard and lined them up on the table to show me what it was made with.

The final list goes like this: blueberries, flour, molasses, baking soda, squash, msg free chicken soup mix, baking powder, poppy seeds, cinnamon and blackberries. Its going to be quite a cake. But we'll have to wait for it, because as he told me, "I'm gonna make a cake like this for you when I'm a mom. You can have it in any shape that you want, if you want a digger cake or a tractor cake or a loader cake or a gator cake. I'm gonna use all these 'gredients 'cause I want it to be a beyootiful cake. It will be a black blueberry cake. I'm gonna make it when I'm big."

I can't wait.

And by the time we were done with out plans for a black blueberry gator cake, the dinner was ready.And look at that! I even managed a broccoli and romaine salad with raisens and almonds. L.D. was not interested in it at all, but Hubs liked it so whatever. What L.D. did like was the pigs in a blanket. "What are dose?!" he said, standing on his chair to get a better look, "I want to eat dem!" Alrighty then. 

Needless to say, his favourite part was the biscuit. Quelle surprise. But he ate the sausage too, as well as a good handful of carrots. Hubs was so down with this meal, it quite warmed my heart to see them both tuck into it so happily. Hubs told me he remembered his mom making hot dogs wrapped in crescent rolls for a birthday party once and that they were, and I quote, "the bomb". I'm telling you, the way to a man's heart is through childhood nostalgia. 

It occurs to me that the above picture really does not "sell" this meal (its really reminding me of Martin Parr's photographs of British food. Which are bad in a good way. As opposed to my picture, which is just sort of bad. But you know what I mean) so your just going to have to take my word for it. It was good. 

skating

So now that he's got a nice warm hat, we figured it was time to go out into the cold, cold winter and do some fun stuff. After some weirdly warm weather (+4 anyone?) it has snapped back to proper cold winter time, with some good solid -10 to -18. 

So on Sunday we headed off to GranGran and Grandpapa's nicely frozen pond. The idea was that we'd do a little skating. Of course, by 'we' I mean 'The Little Dude and Grandpapa". I haven't owned skates since the early 90's. The Little Dude seemed interested in the idea... until we got there, and then he was characteristically apprehensive about the whole deal. "I don't wanna go skating anymore", he informed me as we piled out of the car in all our snow-suited preparedness. I know by now, that the best way to deal with apprehension is to apply no pressure at all. So I said "no problem, let's just got for a walk on the ice." 

We'd brought the little red sled along, and bundled the Baby into that, and Grandpapa got ahold of the reins and took him for little ride. He swooped him around in gentle arcs from one side of the pond to the other. And this is how the baby felt about that: Completely unimpressed. I thought he'd be a little bit excited, but upon reflection, its not unusual in a baby's life to get trussed up in some sort of contraption and transported from one place to another. So as far as he's concerned sled, car seat, who cares? What's the difference?

By this time our cheeks were all rosy, so we headed down to the end of the pond where my Dad had set up this handy little situation: The Cozy Shack! Its a little tarp-covered hut with a radiant propane heater in it. Plus also, thanks to my Dad's clever foresight, it also comes with a box of cookies. This did much for our three year olds spirits, and it was not long before the sugar and the warmth started to make skating look like a much better idea.

Its funny, to say that we are not exactly a sports-y family would be the understatement of the century, and yet I still feel like this was a sort of Canadian rite-of-passage kind of moment. Ah, the first time your Dad helps you put on skates and a helmet. Yep, he's officially Canadian now. 

And with shuffling and scraping they were off.

And can you see? There's a smile on his face! I was so relieved that it was a good experience for him. Those 'firsts' can really make or break it for you sometimes. And there's quite a discomfort hump to get over with skating especially. Its cold, its awkward, there is the constant threat of falling down. Yeah, I just reminded myself of why I don't skate. 

And much as a parent likes their child to share their interests, there are a few ways that I would like my kids to be different from me. I hope they never develop at taste for chocolate or fast food. I hope they aren't procrastinators. And I hope they are less sedentary than I am. And so it was with a warm heart (and very cold hands and feet) that I heard his clear little voice pipe up "I'm skating, I'm skating!"

And with the Grandpapa they have, this sure won't be the last time. 

(Special thanks to my sister who got us the good little two blade skates for L.D. that made this all possible. You rock, Auntie!)

down time

And unexpected bonus of my four days commuting into Toronto was... the commute!
Who knew how much I was going to enjoy getting on a train in the dark and riding for an hour or so. I'd be sitting there, all excited to be heading out into the early morning once again, and look around me to deduce that a) I was the only one who appeared to be excited, and b) I had a WHOLE HOUR to knit. Or read. Or write. Or just sit still and look out the window.  It is only when you have two small children under the age of four that you can finally realize how awesome that is. I also noted that c) I was the only one knitting. Which did kind of surprise me. And that just goes to show what sort of a fibre arts/crafting bubble I live in. It really, actually made me wonder that no one else had any other kind of handwork going on. No crochet, no needlepoint, nuthin'. Go figure.

Anyhow, with four morning rides and four evening rides, I was just about able to finish up a nice little project. And by 'just about', I mean this is what happened: 
I believe the technical knitting term for this is "a pisser". For those of you who don't know what you're looking at, this is an almost finished project, except with 18 stitches left to cast off I've run out of yarn. argh. Anyhow, I had to wait until I got home, and then dig around in my stash to find another close enough colour-wise bit of yarn so that I could finish it off. 

And here it is. Ah, my enthusiastic little knitwear model! Actually, contrary to what his face is saying, he genuinely likes his new hat. Its the same one I made for him when he was but a wee little boy, which he has outgrown and passed on to his little brother (though not without some reluctance:  "That's MY hat!") When it was half way done I tried it on his head for size and he said, "Is dat for ME?" and when I said, sure it could be for him if he wanted it, he quite sweetly declared, "I want a lovely purple hat like dat one! Will you make it for me?" But of course, my love, but of course. 

hats!

Just the other day I was thinking "how is it we don't have a dress up box?" I'm an ex-theatre major for Pete's Sake! These kids should have been born in a dress up box. But somehow, I've just never gotten around to pulling one together. Sure we have some random pieces of clothes around the house, and myriad bits of fabric and blankets that get pulled into service as gowns delivered by fairy godmothers and capes and magic carpets. Which is awesome, because it really gets the old imagination going. But still, I think we need an actual Tickle Trunk. And if you don't know what I mean by Tickle Trunk, you obviously did not grow up in Canada, and now I'll have to send you to this Mr. Dressup video so that you can get schooled. The box where he kept his costumes was called the Tickle Trunk. And he had EVERYTHING in there. Seriously. Don't make me have to explain the Friendly Giant to you too, or maybe we can't be friends any more (unless you are American, and you have a reasonable excuse for not knowing about Mr. D and the F.G. But don't feel bad, because you had Mr. Rogers, who also is awesome. But did he have a tickle trunk? No, he did not)

Anyhow, on my birthday trip to the V.V. Hubs was the smart guy who found this nice assortment of accessories with which to start our very own Tickle Trunk.  To be fair, we already owned the John Deere cap (natch), but the others round out the collection nicely. 

This one has quickly been adopted as the favourite. And its my favourite too. Its nice to see that we have similar taste. 

Of course, the whole point of these is to aid the imagination, so we are really flexible about the professions that the hat represents. Hubs feels like this is the 'Old Timey Journalist' hat. It just needs a little card in the band that says "PRESS". I suggested that it would also do well for "Out of Work Jazz Musician" but thats a little bleak. We also suggested that he could wear it and be a business man. But of course, he out did us both and in this picture is enacting his role as a "Recycling Guy Tiger". Obviously. The socks on his hands are tiger paws. That, plus the recycling box = clearly.

Another game that is very fun to play with hats is "Caps for Sale".

It helps if you've read this book.

I've probably blogged about it before, but I can't remember for sure. Anyhow, its a well worn family favourite (I just adore the illustrations. The colours! Here's a good link to another blog and some beautiful dresses inspired the palette of this book). about a peddler whose caps get stolen by some naughty monkeys. 

It makes him very angry. But (spoiler alert) he does get the caps back in the end. The Little Dude LOVES playing this game because there is both stamping and hat throwing involved. And I get to be a monkey who says "Tsz, tsz, tsz". Awesome. 

We tried to get the Baby in on this action, but he's much more interested in taking hats off than putting them on. Very hard to get a picture of this kid in a hat.

But still, it was fun trying.