needing to sew i'm sorry

i made my first big etsy gaffe.

247 sales since i first opened (and a few dozen orders off etsy through email and friends) and i have never made a HUGE mistake.

once, there was a factory-torn little hole in some of the fabric i use for my scarves, that i didnt catch and the customer informed me of (she wouldnt let me fix it for her and said it was no big deal but to maybe check the rest of my material in case more had the same little rip...she ws a dream customer!). and then once a lady special ordered a boppy cover and wanted to use home decor fabric (heavy/thicker) instead of the quilting cotton i always use and because of the different fabric it was too small for her pillow (though it fit mine fine), so she sent it back in and i retailored it. those were painful and i worked hard to make sure my customers ended up happy, but it wasnt too bad since they werent errors within my control.

but last week i really goofed. it made me so bitter because it was so stupid and avoidable and because of the timing.

two different customers ordered boppy covers. one was in texas and one in miami. they were both for their own babies and were due any day. aka, these were very pregnant ladies.

well i finished up the orders, printed out my shipping labels, slapped them one the packages and sent them off, glad that they would arrive in time for the florida mama's induction on wednesday.

well, i got a message on monday (2 days before her delivery) that she had received a boppy cover, but it was the wrong fabrics.

i had mixed up the shipping labels! such a stupid bonehead error that could have so easily been avoided.

i had to get in touch with the other mama, tell her that she was about to receive the wrong boppy cover, send them both paypal money to cover reshipping and ask them (9 months pregnant, both of them, remember!) to go back to the post office and ship them to each other.

i normally would have been more professional and had them ship the covers back to me (more expensive for me to pay to ship them 3 times, but more classy) but time was of the essence since these mommies had ordered the covers to be there when the babies were born.

i died a little inside since i know that a trip to the post office at 9 months pregnant in may is the equivalent of a non-gravid doing a pentathlon in a sumo suit on the equator at high noon. but i knew they would want to shave the extra 3 days off the shipping speeds.

luckily they were both willing and super speedy and got the right covers shipped to the right states in record time. the texas mommy-to-be was still waiting for labor to start when her correct cover got to her, but the florida mama had her baby on wednesday, and the boppy cover wasnt at her house until thursday (i am praying a relative went by and picked it up then took it to her in the hospital). i am SO sad that it wasnt there for the first feedings and so mad at myself for incoveniencing these pregnant ladies for such a careless error.

so i endeavor to make it right. obviously i paid for their postage to ship the boppies to each other, but i am also sending them each some goodies in the same fabrics that they picked for their covers. hopefully this will make them fully satisfied and not earn me my first ever negative feedbacks!

i wanted to make a few new things, that i dont already have in my shop, and i settled on a three-pack for each mom:

paci clip, burpie, and door silencer

i saw this idea on pinterest and thought it was brilliant and so easy to do myself

it's just two squares of fabric, some batting, and coordinating hair elastics and, blammo, you have an awesome little contraption that keeps doors from slamming and hardware from clicking when you're trying to sneak into or out of your kids room like a clumsy cat burglar (it does not, however, solve the problem of joints that pop like an arthritic octogenarian and wake up your kids. youre on your own there. and by you i mean me. damn loud-mouthed cartilage!)

there is one known fact in the universe (or maybe it's just our house...i'm pretty self-centered, so its all the same): we either have 854 pacis that are sprinkled EVERYWHERE i go; under my feet tripping me into head injuries, under my butt on the couch causing strange sensations that confuse and terrify me, under my pillow in the place reserved for my pepper spray (for when jesse is out of town).

and then just when i cant take this overflowing tsunami of comfort objects...they ALL disappear and she is crying and i am trying to wash dishes, complete a work project, make out with jesse AND drive the car all at once and i just need her to STOP CRYING FOR FIVE SECONDS before my eyelashes fall out from the stress, but all the pacis have just all defied environmental sciences and the the laws of plastics and spontaneously biodegraded, leaving nothing but carpet stains and mystery odors (that HAS to be where they all come from, right?).

so uh-doy, why have i never made her one (or sixty-five) of these before?!?!

i made one for each of my customers and 50 for me. not really, but it's on the agenda. i just made one, and it has already changed our lives.

the paci-obsessed snuggle-monkey APPROVES!!!

here's hoping my olive branch of sewedness makes my newly non-pregnant mommies happy and leaves them satified with their putapuredukes etsy experience. i might be a pleaser, and it AWFUL!

expected/unexpected

this arrived in our driveway this week:

so naturally, when we let the kids come outside and say goodbye to the babysitter after our date and they spotted it for the first time, this was to be expected (despite our attempts to verbally keep them away):

walk down this mountain with your heart held high (and visibly, thanks to old navy pjs!)

summitting

and of course, just as expectedly, this series of events went down:

"what is this stuff, mom?"

"oh, it's 'dirt' you say? and i shouldn't touch it?"

"you mean i shouldnt touch it with these hands here?"

"i'm 1 year old, youre over there with a camera, and i am thinking it would be awesome to touch the dirt."

"I CANT STOP THIS MOM! IT'S BEYOND MY POWER TO PREVENT THE HANDS BEING IN THE DIRT!"

"i touched the dirt and i feel pretty amazing about it."

less expected in the closing chapters of the exciting tale of "the dirt pile" was this:

judah doesnt like having his shirt dirty and doesnt enjoy pants EVER.

and then precisely 3 seconds after that...

aaaaaaan what we have here, is a naked child in a dirt pile.

i was thinking, "as much as i dont like not having friends close by, i am glad we dont know anyone around here during moments like this." right as i was mentally punctuating that thought, my friend mandy jogs by. seriously. i just became friends with her like a month ago and she is the only person whose opinion we care about within a 10 mile radius. hilarious.

one day a little dirt on his unders will be more tolerable than this to him.

let's assume layla wants the dirt, not the nudity

cave man; circa 2012.

and a little unexpected action from layla too:

dirt snack. she loved it. honestly. she will take fruit out of her mouth and replace it with a rock or acorn. early onset PICA, anyone?

andalé

when we were putting judah down for his nap today, he all of a sudden said his ear was hurting.

my immediate thought was that he has reached the age of faking things. sad but inevitable. i, myself, was a huge fan of the zack morris hold-the-thermometer-up-to-a-lightbulb-to-get-it-hot-enought-to-pass-for-a-fever-and-then-show-it-to-mom trick to get out of school.

he also has had maybe 1.5 ear infections in his life, so i was further dubious.

but the boy is usually a great sleeper and doesnt fight naps, so when he kept saying, "mai ear just kinda rully hurt, mommy," i decided to believe him.

due to my fakery, my parents didnt believe me in 3rd grade when i jumped out of a very high swing after school on hallowwen and caught myself on all fours, injuring my wrist. i insisted it was broken, but they sent me out trick or treating nonetheless, during which i avoided my usual candy-hoarding because carrying my basket was so painful.

the next day at school we played flag football, and in my quest for PE dominance i was driving for the endzone when my classmate tried to grab my flag but grabbed my shorts instead, taking me down...on my hurt wrist.

finally they took me to the ER and i it was broken. boy i got some good guilt presents out of that one.

and since i dont want to have to buy judah 18 "sorry i didnt believe you and you were in horrible pain" monster trucks, i took him to urgent care just now.

i gleefully told this story to a little girl who was also waiting with a possibly-broken arm from a soccer game and told her she was lucky her parents didnt force her out on to the mean streets with an injured paw. i refrained from telling her that they make it stop hurting by giving you a shot.

so judah was bee-bopping around in the waiting room and i was getting feisty at him that maybe it was just a nap-avoidance sham that was going to cost me $50. but alas, the doctor came in and certified one ear "definitely infected."

i was actually happy. now, i HATE my kid being in pain, but i LOVE a sure diagnosis (how i loathe the, "it's just viral, tylenol and lots of liquids and your $30 copay plus those hellish 1.5 hrs waiting for the doctor of your life that you'll never get back, please" line) and putting off the faking stage a little longer.

as we left, he asked to run down the wheelchair ramp instead of the stairs and of course due to the fluid buildup on his inner ear and his sleepy state, his balance was all off and he bit the dust, scraping his hands and knees up real nice.

we went to publix to get his antibiotic and he was in rarest of forms in the car on the way there. sleepiness+ear infection+newly inflicted scrape/fall trauma+monsters inc skipping on the DVD= meltdownicus maximus.

when we got to publix he was so weepy in the cart that i despaired of our wait time. i took him out and let him lay on me on the bench while we waited. he was extra cuddly and asked me to sing him a song.

now, if musical talent was rated from a 1 being rebecca black to a 10 being that fuzzy brittish chick who won simon cowell over, then i score some glyph that looks like a dead guppy or something.

but when my sick little boy who resisted loving me for so long is wrapped around me in pain and asks for a song, you'd better believe i WAS natalie maines as i sang him our song over and over for the whole Rx line to hear.

when it was time to pay i asked the pharmacist to tell me if he was asleep, since i couldnt see his face from where he was on me. she said he was and so sweetly swiped my card for me, signed for me and did all my checkout-ery work so i wouldnt have to jostle him too much (publix, where shopping IS a pleasure).

this is maybe the 3rd time since his 1st birthday that he has fallen asleep out in public. it almost never happens and i love it oh so much.

and again, i HATE that he is in pain, but my sweet boy, the one whose existence made me a mama, being wrapped around me and at home enough to just let go and be fully at rest on me is seriously a PERFECT mothers day gift.

the hokey pokey? bump that. this is what it's all about.

and because i am wondering if my obscure references ever make sense to anyone, $10 shop credit in my etsy store to the first person who can tell me why i titled this post what i did.