Speaking With an Accent

Here is a quick summary of how I ended up with one child for four days:

Frontier Days sucks.

So we stayed for the requisite parade on the first Saturday:


And the Thunderbirds on Wednesday:

But after the static air show (during which Emily attempted to hijack a helicopter):

We escaped the crowds of Frontier Days and went to Rock Springs. We had a lovely time and it was great to visit all the old stomping grounds. But when we returned to Cheyenne, Emily stayed in Rock Springs for four glorious days.

What did I do with my four days of having one baby and no preschooler? I painted! Most of the painting was very boring. My house was born with flat paint on the walls. Not good for kids. So Chris and I painted over a good portion of the downstairs with satin paint in the exact same shade. It looks nice and clean, but still very beige and boring.

Here's what's not boring: I painted my first accent wall:

I am still getting used to it, but I think I like it. I need something to break it up, though. Maybe a "Bless this Mess" plaque. Chris suggested painting a yellow steamboat on either side. Thus pointing out (after I had already finished painting) that I had selected Wyoming Brown for my accent wall. I still like it.

A Helping Hand

Today we went to pick up Jane's very first prosthesis. We call it her "helper hand". Here's a picture of her wearing it:


Her first prosthesis is passive, which means that it is there to give her a sense of having a hand, rather than to necessarily function as a working hand. It is flexible enough that we can bend the thumb a bit to place toys into the hand, but it is rigid enough that she can put weight on it and abuse it.

We decided to start young at the suggestion of Jane's doctor who told us that if we start now, she is more likely to adopt a hand into her self image and will have a head start when she is older and ready to try the cool myoelectric hands. It will also help her to use her body in a more bilateral way. She is not a full time wearer now - our current goal is an hour and a half a day. This should give her time to get used to the arm while still giving her plenty of time to use her little arm as is.

She will use the passive hand until about 18 months. At that point she will get a mechanical hand that opens and closes and is operated by shoulder movement. Then, at some point, it will be on to the myoelectric hands.

So far, Jane seems to not hate the hand and has discovered that it is useful for bashing the sound buttons in her exersaucer.

And for those of you that are wondering about the bright colors on the arm: I am the guilty party. I wanted bright colors 1) because flesh colored plastic looks creepy on a baby and 2) because I was hoping the bright colors would catch her eye and make her want to play with it more. If you think it looks weird then, well, I'm rubber and you're glue.

So there you have it. One step down a long road that will hopefully lead to a well adjusted and happy girl. With or without a prosthesis.

A Bit of Genealogy...

When you live in Wyoming, you frequently get the question, "How did you end up here?", as if something must have gone awry in your life that caused you to be here. The short answer is that I love it here and I choose to be here. But that's just why I stay here, not how I "ended up" here. Here is part of the story of how I ended up here:

My mother's family has been in Wyoming since her great-great-grandfather came to Evanston in 1879. His name was Henry Code. Henry was born in England and came to the states as a young man to join his sister in Salt Lake City. Although not a member of the church, he bought passage with a wagon train of Mormon Pioneers. He later joined the church, married,moved to Evanston, and had a large family. Henry was a gun and locksmith and repaired sewing machines. Henry built the first model steam engine in the Salt Lake Valley. Henry had no hands. He lost both of them in a childhood accident caused by careless use of gunpowder.

I have lately been given a copy of his obituary. Here is the text (from the January 21, 1911 edition of Evanston's local paper):

After an illness of two weeks, Henry Code, the pioneer gun and locksmith of North Evanston succumbed to pneumonia and jaundice early yesterday morning.

The deceased was born Aug. 21, 1836 at Lincolnshire, England, and came to America when 22 years of age. He removed in Utah with the pioneers in 1862, and came to Evanston in 1879, having resided here continuously since that time. He was married to Myranda Whipple at Salt Lake in 1873, and to this union several children were born. His wife passed away several years ago and his daughter, Mrs. Fred Lowbaker died last week. He is survived by a brother in California and a sister in Salt Lake. Also by two sons, David Burton and Charles Code and two Daughters, Mrs. Wm. Titmus and Mrs. Wm. Barnes of this city. Another daughter, Mrs. R.D. Freeman, resides in Idaho.

Mr. Code was an exceptionally clever man, and though a cripple, with both arms cut off at the elbows, followed the vocation of gun and locksmith in Evanston, raised a large family and does not owe anyone a cent.

This is certainly a creditable record. Mr. Code at all times held the respect of this community as an honorable, upright citizen.

Although I take exception to the word "cripple", I was extremely pleased to finally be able to read the obituary, along with a history of Henry Code, written by his friend. Henry is one of my heroes and one of the people I most look forward to meeting in the hereafter. Henry didn't know that someday he would have a great-great-great-great-granddaughter who was missing a hand and looked to him as an example, but he couldn't have conducted himself any better if he would have known.

Henry made his own prostheses and I am sure he will be marveling from the spirit world at all the implements available to Jane. I am also sure that along with her family on Earth cheering her on, the loudest cheer of all will be coming from Jane's great-great-great-great-grandfather, who knows Jane's struggles and her potential better than any of us.

Yet another addition to the fleet

So the ol' Subaru Legacy wasn't cutting it anymore. It isn't that I don't love it. It's just that it seemed to be closing in on me whenever we went anywhere but the park or the grocery store. 2 kids plus 2 giant carseats plus luggage plus a choice selection of stuffed animals plus the travel DVD player plus the accompanying DVD collection make for a pretty uncomfortable ride in a midsize sedan. I know lots of people do it and I commend them. I can't. However, because of the Governor's wage freeze, a new car was nowhere in sight.

But thanks to my parents and their new car purchase, we became the proud owners of their Ford Expedition.

(this is technically not it, but it looks just like this and I don't want to go out in the rain and take a picture.)

This is my first biggie size car. I must say that it is very nice to be able to put my giant stroller in the back and still have room for groceries and/or luggage. When I drive it down the highway, I feel like one of those guys that sits in a box on the back of an elephant and looks down on all the common folk. I am also proud that I now own a car that Al Gore might call excessive and wasteful. Anything that fits into that category is a good move in my opinion.

Now my only problem is that I will have a very hard time talking Chris into anything smaller once the Governor decides that it's cool to give people promotions again. Maybe he'll be convinced when I inflict the first door ding on someone else's car in the parking lot... or the second... or the third. Did I mention it's a bit of a tight fit in parking spaces? Well, it is. In the meantime, I will just enjoy riding my elephant box down the highway. And consider yourself forewarned not to park next to me.