Swistle, age 2. Baby powder.

Edward and Elizabeth, age 2. Powdered sugar.

Oh. I guess I should have posted about Mother’s Day today, and done the psych clinic tomorrow when we were all about to take our Mother’s Day feelings and turn them into inappropriate actions.

Well, how about Mother’s Day post ALSO, since one of my presents for Mother’s Day is more computer time while Paul watches the children?

Paul always asks me what I want for Mother’s Day, which is very wise. I wanted more time by myself; I wanted to make mint brownies (Paul said he’d make them, but I like baking and it’s something I miss when I don’t do it); and I wanted drawings/cards from the kids (Henry was excused this year on account of smallness).

You might think I’m all sacrificial about not wanting a big gift, but I don’t want to have to think of a gift on Father’s Day. I want instead to train our children to buy me things later, when they’re grown and rich. I read aloud to them from People magazine articles in which rich young singers buy houses and cars and nice cosmetic surgeries for their mamas.

Paul also asked if I wanted him to make tacos for dinner (yes) and if I wanted him to download another episode of that show you guys recommended, Big Bang Theory, which I think he was hoping would have cuter, buffer, cooler guys in it—I mean because there was the strong implication that he resembled those guys.

Rob’s card says: “Dear Mom, I hope that you have an awesome Mother’s Day and that you know how much it means to me when you do the following things. (A) Buying and cooking food for me (B) Keeping our house cleen (C) Taking care of me when I’m sick and (D) Helping me get ready for school every Day. Happy Mother’s Day! Love, Rob”.

Ha ha! First of all, “the following things,” with a list. Second, the touching obliviousness of a child: Paul does the grocery shopping and almost all the cooking, and since when is our house clean? Oh, wait, he says “cleen.”

William’s card says: “My mom is special becaus she plays with me. She bakes with me. She goes to store with me.”

That does pretty much sum up my life. It’s nice of him to refer to that as “special.”

Edward brought me three pages of scribbles, and Elizabeth said hers wasn’t ready yet so she wouldn’t give it to me, but I’m told it says “Uncle Erik” on it (her own idea).

Mint brownies are in the oven.

Here is what I like about Mother’s Day: it comes before Father’s Day. I think of it, in fact, as a TEMPLATE for Father’s Day. Is the father in your household being kind and solicitous today, and taking your various wants into account? Is he making the children behave the same way—ideally far away from you? Did he keep them quiet so you could sleep in? Is he looking at you with affectionate eyes and not letting you do the dishes? Then keep that in mind when it is his turn for a day of appreciation. Is he instead clearly trying to fill the Mother’s Day Obligation slot with the minimum required item so he can move on to his usual Sunday schedule of napping and messing around on the computer? Then keep THAT in mind for June.

I was talking with some of my friends about something, and it turned into a really interesting discussion so I thought I’d bring it up here.

My contention was that there is “having a feeling” and there is also “acting on a feeling.” I think sometimes the two things get confused: someone has a feeling and then says or does something that hurts or angers other people, and then wants to get away with it by saying they “can’t help the way they feel.” I say it’s not an issue of “how they feel” but rather of “what they chose to do about it.”

This is not to be mistaken for repressing or denying a feeling. No one is saying you can’t fully appreciate all your feelings in all their glory. What we’re talking about here is the decision to TAKE ACTION: saying how you feel, or acting a certain way because of the feeling. The action should sometimes be repressed or denied, if it is a wrong way to behave. You might feel like slamming someone to the ground, but you can fully experience that feeling without (a) slamming someone to the ground or (b) telling someone you feel like slamming them to the ground—both of which are actions, not feelings.

I thought we could come up with some more situations that contain examples of when it’s “Feeling a Feeling” and when it’s “Acting on a Feeling”—and when those actions are the good kind or the bad kind.

One of my friends came up with an excellent example about a baby shower she was invited to—that was taking place two weeks after she (my friend) had had a miscarriage. Another friend came up with another excellent example about her husband, who thinks they should share ALL their feelings with each other, in the name of “being honest.” And my example had to do with venting about a friend’s parenting method.

So let’s look at all three examples, broken down into segments: The Feelings, some examples of actions that are appropriate ways to act on those feelings, and some examples of actions that are NOT appropriate ways to act on those feelings.

Baby Shower After Miscarriage

The Feelings: extreme sadness and disappointment over the loss of your baby; having a hard time focusing on anything else; jealousy of someone whose baby did not die; anger that your baby died; anger at people who are complaining about pregnancy symptoms; worry that this will keep happening

Rightly Acting on the Feelings: the friend it happened to had the good idea of not attending the shower but sending a gift (it isn’t normally necessary to send a gift if you don’t attend a shower, but in this case it’s a particularly excellent gesture because it communicates that the staying-away is not from resentment of the other woman’s happiness or a desire to reduce it); crying and talking with a friend you aren’t angry at (that’s a good way to filter for the ones who would be injured); crying and talking with your spouse; writing in a journal or talking to a therapist

Wrongly Acting on the Feelings: (1) attending the shower and spending the whole time slumped in a chair, non-smiling, running out of the room in tears, making everyone else feel terrible, sucking all the attention to yourself, or (2) not attending the shower, as in the “Rightly” section, but telling many, many people, including all the other shower attendees and also the guest of honor herself, allllllll your feelings on the subject, including the parts about being angry at pregnant women and resentful of their happiness

The feelings of jealousy, sorrow, anger and even the feeling of “not being able to be near someone else’s happiness” are all normal, totally normal. The problem comes when people use those feelings as weapons to break down someone else’s happiness or to draw attention belonging to others onto themselves. But of course talking about it with a spouse, or with a close friend who would not be injured (that is, NOT a pregnant friend, for example), or with a therapist, or with a journal–those are all good and appropriate ways to work through the feelings. And not attending the shower is not only perfectly understandable to anyone with half an empathy clue, but also a good way to prevent bad behavior.

Next example.

Friend With a Different Parenting Method

The Feelings: frustration when someone close to you has a radically different way of doing things; anger at a friend for saying things that seem critical or illogical; frustration at not being able to change a situation; frustration at a smug or critical attitude; frustration that your own point of view is misunderstood and/or considered inferior

Rightly Acting on the Feelings: ranting to your spouse; writing in a journal; talking with a friend who has a similar parenting method to your own; thinking things out and reminding yourself that there is no sense trying to change someone; reminding yourself that the situation can be seen differently from different angles (for example, your methods may be equally frustrating to your friend); reminding yourself that different methods work for different families; keeping the peace by keeping your mouth shut; realizing that arguing will go nowhere and will only make things unnecessarily unpleasant and you will be very sorry you said anything at all

Wrongly Acting on the Feelings: taking your anger at your friend and flinging it outwards in an attack aimed at everyone who uses a similar parenting method; venting your frustration publicly in a way that makes people who don’t agree with you feel like they have to agree with you because you’re “just venting”; saying hostile things that apply not only to the person you’re actually angry with but also to many who are listening; acting as if it’s okay to say hateful things just because you feel them when you’re worked up; implying that the other person’s method is wrong just because it disagrees with yours

Next example.

Sharing All Your Feelings With a Spouse

The Feelings: irritation; frustration; intense anger; occasionally wondering if you married the wrong person; occasionally feeling like you don’t love your spouse anymore; occasionally wondering if you would be happier if you got a divorce; in moments of extreme agitation and anger, wanting to physically hurt your spouse

Rightly Acting on the Feelings: talking about it with a friend or therapist; cooling down; going for a walk or going shopping or going to another room; going to bed and seeing how things look in the morning; trying to solve the problem by saying what you’d like changed; telling your spouse you’re so frustrated and angry about whatever it is; reminding yourself that marriages have ups and downs; blogging about it on a blog your spouse and his friends and relatives don’t read

Wrongly Acting on the Feelings: physically hurting your spouse; telling your spouse you feel like hurting them; telling your spouse you wish you’d never gotten married; telling your spouse you want a divorce (when you don’t literally want one); saying you don’t love your spouse anymore; saying you hate your spouse; saying you wish your spouse was dead; telling your spouse’s relatives or friends about the fight in the hopes of getting them on your side; blogging about it on a blog your spouse and his friends and relatives read

To sum up!

The FEELINGS are natural and normal. The ACTIONS are separate from the feelings.

The FEELINGS don’t have to take other people into consideration: you don’t need to think, “I shouldn’t feel this way” or “I should feel this other way” (though I do think it’s a good idea to keep a grip on how feelings relate to reality). The ACTIONS do have to take other people into consideration: you should think, “How is what I am about to do/say going to affect other people, and is that the effect I want, and is that the effect I should try to create?”

The FEELINGS are what they are. If you feel bitter and angry and hostile and resentful, you can try to talk yourself through it, and you can acknowledge where it’s not rational, but that’s about it. This is when the concept of “owning the feelings” comes into play: we can (and I think should) try to realize it when a feeling is irrational or unfair or not based in reality, and we acknowledge that and try to move on, and/or we wait for time to pass and dull the feelings. The ACTIONS can definitely be changed or modified to fit the situation: we should not use our feelings as an excuse to hurt other people, nor should we confuse “can’t help the feelings” with “can’t help the actions.” We should not excuse our actions by saying that the actions are our feelings. They are separate, and we are responsible for our actions.

We are not responsible for our feelings. Feelings HAPPEN. We ARE responsible for what we DO with the feelings, and for how we EXPRESS our feelings, and to whom we express them, and in what context. We are responsible for how much we milk it. We are responsible for how much damage we do to others in the pursuit of making ourselves feel better.

Yay, psych clinic!

The last few days I’ve been so tired and weak-limbed, I actually Googled “weak limbs” to see what disease I might have. I imagined how I’d break the news to all of you that I would soon be in a wheelchair: I’d be gentle and clear, resigned and stoic, and you would all admire my poise in the face of tragedy. I would become The Face of Whatever It Was I Had. It turns out that the main reason for weak limbs is “tiredness,” and the second reason is “stress,” and probably I will not need a wheelchair (or A Face) for either of those.

Today I was so tired, though, I lay down for awhile during naptime, and I would have gone to sleep except I had a wakeful companion who wanted me to read her dinosaur books and discuss our respective barrettes. And I thought to myself, “I must be really unusually tired, because I NEVER lie down during the day. Well, except when I’m pr–…………….” *long, calculating pause*

This is the kind of time I am so happy to have my cheap pregnancy tests. Sometimes even just having the tests in the house and knowing I could take one immediately is enough to remind me that the statistical chances of a positive are very low. But if I DO feel anxious to have an answer, I don’t feel as stupid if the answer is “no” when I’ve only spent 80 cents—whereas I DO feel stupid, TREMENDOUSLY stupid, when I’ve spent 7 dollars. (Of COURSE the answer was no.)

I think one reason I’ve been so tired and frustrated this week is that Elizabeth has stopped taking naps. Some of you have wondered how I find so much time to blog, and one of my main time sources is that all three housechildren take a 2-hour-minimum nap at the same time each day. That’s at least ten hours per workweek right there. But now Elizabeth has outgrown naps. And although she is a pleasant, perky, cheerful little grown-up of a companion, she is persistent about her interest in interacting with me Every! Single! Second!

Can I get even ONE SENTENCE of blogging done, even after setting her up in a comfy chair with her stuffed elephant and her pool noodle and her tiny chickie and her stack of dinosaur books and Mommy’s Favorite Blanket and her green dinosaur socks and her pink fluffy hat? NO. Because she wants to discuss what she is reading, and she wants to ask questions, and she wants to confirm that that is an apatosaurus, and she wants to talk about how I got all those things for her, and she wants to talk about how we need to be quiet because the little boys are napping and about how she is a big girl now who does not take naps. So she and I have been doing things together, and it IS nice to have some one-on-one time with her, but this is having a cumulative effect as if I were working 13-hour shifts every single day with no lunch breaks—OH WAIT.

And then my third-grader lectured me for flushing an ant down the toilet (the toilet was flushing anyway, and I efficiently tossed the ant in), saying that the food chain depended on ALL species, and what if ants were endangered, and how did I KNOW they weren’t endangered, and what if they were endangered NOW because of ME killing them? It was around 5:30 p.m. that he started this conversation, and that’s when my mental fortitude is low and I am just barely able to concentrate on breaking off chunks of banana for Henry, and I am not prepared to discuss the significance of alternate food sources for species higher-up on the chain. Rob then mentioned panda bears and polar bears and how THEY were nearly extinct from people killing them, so I promised that if either a panda bear or a polar bear came into our house, I would refrain from flushing it down the toilet.

This reminds me of when I was babysitting a 5-year-old girl who told me that coffee was poison. Cute. Go to bed early, then, and maybe I won’t need to poison myself in the morning.

Well. In happy, productive news, I got the two Swistle Care Packages mailed off to the prize-winners. Ha ha: I’ll bet they think I was KIDDING about emptying the contents of my junk drawer in there! But I used flat-rate boxes and I had plenty of space, and I saw the opportunity to jettison a whole BUNCH of crap. Bye-bye, crap! Have fun in your new homes! Bye-eeeeeeeee!

And tonight I’m making fudge for the Teacher Appreciation Day buffet tomorrow, and I’m going to watch Gilmore Girls while eating half of the double-batch I’m making, so I don’t see how this bad spell can persist.

We’re watching a TV commercial in which people are eating fast food in the car, and the TV asks us: “When did THIS become a sit-down dinner?” Paul answers the TV: “The assumption in your question is unwarranted. UNWARRANTED!”

Paul is teaching the kids The Binary ABCs: “Zero, one. Now I know my zero ones! Next time won’t you sing with me?”

Paul puts Elizabeth into her pajamas, then says to me, “Exoskeleton installation complete.”

He’s teaching the children to “robot dance”: “Shake what your manufacturer specified!” “Shake it until you require service!”

Today at “Work It, Mom” I’m answering the following questions:

• Are you and Linda S. the same person?
• Where are the cute Target earrings??
• Are these your kids’ real names now, or still the pseudonyms you use on your Swistle blog?
• You are so pretty! I thought you’d be fatter!
• Is your mother-in-law going to find you online now?
• How did you come up with the name “Swistle”?
• Is it okay if I still call you Swistle?

This week is Teacher Appreciation Week. William’s school is having a Teacher Appreciation Breakfast. Some parents are sending muffins, some are sending juice or fruit or bagels or quiche; some are sending plates, napkins, or plastic flatware. It is a huge effort requiring many people’s involvement and a ton of organization, emails, and phone calls. And what does it give the teachers? They don’t have to make their own toast/cereal. For one morning.

It seems to me there are better and more efficient ways to show appreciation to teachers.

For starters, we could pay them as if their jobs involved SHAPING CHILDREN’S ENTIRE FUTURES.

We could follow up by agreeing to NEVER SAY AGAIN, “Oh, you’re a teacher? Must be nice to get out at 3:00 and have your summers off!”

We could vote, when given the opportunity to do so, for more educational funding. It is a good value—unlike some of the other things our taxes are paying for.

We could offer to help out. If we can’t go in during the day, or if we’d rather have a thousand never-healing paper cuts than serve on the PTA, we can offer what we CAN do: sending stuff in for bake sales or parties, purchasing an item for the classroom, donating scrap paper from the office, arranging a class field trip tour of our super-amazing workplace chocolate factory, whatevs.

We could acknowledge that most parents consider their own children to be above average, and that statistically-speaking we can’t all be right.

We could occasionally send in something when it’s NOT Teacher Appreciation Week. A little baggie of wrapped dark chocolates, maybe. A small bag of gourmet popcorn. Or, sure, an apple.

We could send our kids to school with a good night’s sleep and a good breakfast—at least to the best of our ability (some of the little buggers fight us every step of the way).

We could write an occasional note telling teachers how much we appreciate the work they do. Mention a specific thing you noticed, or mention something general. Mention something flattering your kid said about the teacher. Mention how much you liked this month’s newsletter. It can feel awkward to write a note to someone you’ve met only twice all year, but that’s okay: the teacher is not expecting Shakespeare from you, nor is the teacher going to grade your penmanship.

I am grateful for teachers every time I put my older two kids on the bus and wave good-bye with an insultingly-large grin on my face. I am grateful for teachers whenever I babysit someone else’s kids for a few hours (and all I’m doing is keeping those kids ALIVE, not trying to TEACH them anything). I am grateful for teachers during every school vacation. I am grateful for teachers every time my kids come home with some new information and I think, “Oh yeah! I forgot to tell them about that!”

I don’t think we can say enough nice things about people who, year after year, take a fresh group of TWO DOZEN children belonging to OTHER PEOPLE, children who will NOT EVEN BE CARING FOR THEM IN THEIR OLD AGE, and try to improve the quality of their lives. Thanks, teachers! Super-big MWAH.

I am sorry to say that my planned Pity Prize Contest (for people who were ineligible for the name or photo contests because of already knowing my name or what I looked like) is not going to work. I know! So sad! But I tried it a number of different ways and couldn’t get it to work right. So it’s off. What a terrible tease! And as a group, you Pity-Prize-eligible people were so pitiful already!

BUT! I have something else we can all do if, like me, you are still kind of hepped up on contests. Our Shannon is doing a fundraising raffle for Preeclampsia Awareness Month, which is THIS month so the timing is just excellent! You can go over to her post to get the details on how to enter the raffle, but look at the PRIZE:

There are better/larger/more photos on Shannon’s blog. It’s a HANDMADE QUILT. I LOVE those colors and fabrics! I have already entered to win, so you are going to have competition if you want it too.

Don’t be shy when the Preeclampsia site seems to imply that the minimum donation is $25: click “other” and enter whatever you want. I myself donated significantly less than $25. I imagine you could donate $3, and that would still put the Preeclampsia cause ahead of where it was without you, plus it gets you three chances at the quilt.

And I will add another prize to the raffle. After Shannon draws for the quilt winner, she’ll send the names to me and I’ll draw another winner for your choice of:

A) my favorite baby name book, or
B) one gruesome or mommish mystery book, or
C) cookies or fudge or brownies

Do you know, you could do NO WRONG with your guesses on the Photo Contest.

If you guessed me, I was astounded by your near-psychic abilities. If you guessed someone else, I thought, “Well, how could anyone know? It’s a shot in the dark!” If you were uncertain and you waffled a little, I felt a warm kinship with you: I always want a back-up guess, too, or at least I want to make it clear I KNEW I didn’t know for sure. If you were confident, I admired your confidence—even if you were WRONG.

I do wonder now if A and I (I mean, the A photo and I-the-Swistle, not I-the-photo-designation) are related somehow. Several of you thought I should inquire if she were in fact the true genetic mother of my children, and I’ll get right on that after I finish with the contest stuff. Also, I’m going to ask her about her glasses, because I notice everyone’s glasses were cooler than mine.

Okay! The winners! There were 208 entries total:

A: 54 votes, roughly 26%
B: 0 votes
C: 12 votes, roughly 6%
D: 5 votes, roughly 2%
E: 8 votes, roughly 4%
F: 6 votes, roughly 3%
G: 11 votes, roughly 5%
H: 61 votes, roughly 29%
I: 2 votes, roughly 1%
J: 40 votes, roughly 19%
K: 5 votes, roughly 2%
L: 3 votes, roughly 1%
M: 1 vote, roughly 0%

Fun fact: B, who got FEWER VOTES THAN DREW BARRYMORE, is the only person in the line-up who’s a blood relative of mine!

I lined up those 61 correct H guesses and used a random number generator to select the winner. The random number generator chose Banana. Yay, Banana! You win a Swistle Package containing a treat of your choice (fudge is probably most durable in the mail, but I can also do brownies or cookies), plus your choice of a book: either a baby names book or a gruesome/mommish mystery book, and perhaps some assorted junk I find around the house other thing. Email me at swistle at gmail dot com with mailing info and choices.

Honorable mention:

BRash, who made the big photo clump that was such a huge improvement over the lonnnnnnng column of photos I did. Thanks, Bethany—it was WAY better that way.

Marilyn C. Cole, who called my skin “luminous.” (I love you, Marilyn.)

Susan, who was so certain of her (correct) guess, she had to come back and do a second comment to tell me how sure she was. Good call on the lipstick, Susan!

Jonniker who KNEW IT IN HER VERY SOUL (and was right!).

Emblita, who cleverly noticed that several of the others looked “corporate.” Well-spotted, Emblita! Several of the others WERE IN FACT corporate!

Linda who said I “seriously look 16 years old.” Why, thank you, Linda! I believe it might be my LUMINOUS SKIN.

Drowning in Laundry who remembered I had a double cowlick (!) and saw it in the photo (!!) and told me to go eat some brownies (OKAY!!!). It took me SO LONG to get a picture that made it look like I should go eat some brownies. Artful posing. Many, many self-portraits, experimenting with which angles made me look cuter and which ones highlighted my lowlights.

Banana, who also noticed the double cowlick. Seriously, you people are SO OBSERVANT.

Cari, who said it was “the porcelain skin of a goddess” that gave me away. Keep talking, Cari!

Fine for Now, who did THIS:

OMG, this is so hard! Okay, based on the pictures of your children I think that you could be (in no particular order) A, C, E, F, H, J & K.

Same chin as kids: A, C, E, F, H
Same eye shape as kids: A, C, E, F, J, K
Same coloring as kids: E, F, H, K
Similar teeth as kids: A, E, K
Similar nose as kids: A, C, E, F, H

Based on this, similarities appear in picture:

A = 4x’s
C = 3x’s
E = 5x’s
F = 4x’s
H = 3x’s
J = 1x
K = 4x’s

Through gut feeling alone I think you are probably E, H, or K and based on your descriptions alone I would go with C, H, or J.

Most people are voting for A, and H, with J the third most.

I am going to go with E, because of the skin color, chin, nose, eyes and teeth.

:o)

Can you believe the EXHAUSTIVE RESEARCH? I really WANTED you to be right, Fine for Now! I even wondered briefly if you WERE right: you had proved it so scientifically, perhaps I was E!

…Huh. It looks like mostly I gave honorable mentions for kissing up. This is only going to encourage you to kiss up the next time we have a contest. OH WHAT A PITY.

Well! Time for Name Contest results! (Has everyone figured out that the words “Contests over!” in this post are a LINK that leads to the answers? Good!)

You should see my SPREADSHEET. One hundred and eight-six rows! EIGHT columns: commenter, date/time of comment (so I could easily find each one later), five columns for guesses, and a column for notes I wanted to make to myself. This would be awesome if I knew what to do with a spreadsheet other than entering the data into it. I tried to make some sort of chart that would show the clumping of name guesses, but it kept telling me I didn’t have enough data, and I kept saying, “I have NINE HUNDRED AND THIRTY names! How much data do you NEED?”

Anyway. Of all those 186 sets of guesses, only ONE PERSON guessed (1) my name (2) in its correct spelling (3) in the first-guess position. El-e-e, my girl, GOOD GUESS! El-e-e wins the grand prize, which is this bag by Amy Quarry, whose gallery and online shop make grown women weep and wish to move to Canada.

This bag is not available in Amy’s online shop. If it had been, I would have gotten there first and bought it right out from under you before you even knew it existed. Now I have to make a new plan, involving befriending El-e-e and then stealing her purse. Congratulations, El-e-e, and thank you again, Amy, for that super prize.

There was one person who guessed the correct spelling in the second-choice slot, and there were two people who guessed the close-but-not-quite spelling “Kristin” in the first-choice slot. Those three people tie for first prize; yay, Kelsey, Barb, and Semi-Desperate Housewife!

Because Kelsey also had my middle name (Nicole) among her guesses, she wins the personalized name doily donated by ktjrdn from her Etsy shop Crocheted by Katie. Here’s a sample so you can drool, but Kelsey will get to choose what name she wants:

Thank you, Katie! What a great prize!

Barb wins win a Swistle Package of a treat of your choice (fudge is probably most durable in the mail, but I can also do brownies or cookies), plus your choice of a baby names book or a gruesome/mommish mystery book, and perhaps some assorted junk I find around the house other thing.

Semi-Desperate Housewife wins a teensy Swistle Care Package (treat or book) and the elephant onesie Elizabeth donated from her Etsy shop Elephant Ears. Oh it is so cute! Take a peek:

Thank you, Elizabeth! It’s darling!

There were 14 people who guessed either “Kristen” or “Kristin” in the third-, fourth-, or fifth-guess positions:

1. Andrea
   
2. Melissa
3. ElizasMom
4. -R-
5. Five Froggies
6. Erin of the April 29th, 12:35 p.m. comment
7. Linda
8. Betty M
9. Pseudostoops
10. Jeff
11. Emily of the April 30th, 2:04 p.m. comment
12. Maggie
13. Shoeaddict
14. Lettie

Fourteen! Linda and Emily also guessed my middle name, so they win the two remaining prizes. I wrote names/prizes on scraps of paper and paired them randomly.

Emily wins a single card of her choice from Courtney‘s Etsy shop A is for Beautiful. Oooo, I like this one:

Thank you again, Courtney!

Linda wins the hair button from Mrs. M‘s Etsy shop La La Lollipop. This is the pink gingham fabric Mrs. M used for Elizabeth’s:

Thanks, Mrs. M!

All winners, will you please email me at swistle at gmail dot com, and I’ll get you connected with the awesome people who donated prizes. Thank you so much, Katie and Courtney and Amy and Elizabeth and Mrs. M!

Coming soon: photo contest winners!