An Ode to the Little Arm

When Jane was born, everyone told us she would figure out her own way to do things. That's something that it kind of hard to really believe when you've never seen it for yourself. I spent the weeks after Jane's birth trying to do tasks one handed - everything from driving a stick shift to getting dressed. I wanted to prove to myself that she could do it. But in doing so, I didn't take two things into account. 1) Jane really will figure out her own way. And chances are that the ways she figures out to do things won't look anything like what I would figure out for her. And, 2) Jane doesn't just have one hand. She has one hand and one little arm. Since Jane's birth, she has figured out how to use the little arm in ways I would have never imagined she would (or would want to) use it. Here are some of her favorite uses for her "residual appendage" as the doctors call it, or her "little arm", as Emily dubbed it in the delivery room and as we have called it ever since.


I was dumb to ever worry Jane wouldn't hold a sippy. She has no problem whatsoever.

Things must feel differently to the little arm than they do to Jane's hand. As a result, she rubs everything, really EVERYTHING on it to see how it feels.

The little arm is great to use for stability while the right hand gets into anything and everything.

This is what it looks like when Jane holds something with her left arm. It makes her shirts so gross that many of her clothes have passed the point of no return, but I don't mind. It is great for her to be able to hold onto something (in this case a bit of quesidilla) while she turns her attention to something else for a moment.

A bit of formal wear for the little arm.

I don't have a picture of this yet, but Jane uses her little arm to turn the pages of board books.

Jane's favorite use for her little arm: holding a blanket against her face while she sucks her thumb. This is her default position.

And last, but not least, Jane does crawl with her tummy off the floor.

I'm sure Jane will keep surprising me with new ways to use her little arm. I'm sure each new use will be even more creative than the last.

All You Need is Love

This year, we decided to do something crazy for Valentine's day and actually celebrate. I know it was made up by greeting card and chocolate companies, but sometimes it's fun to just have something to celebrate in the middle of the long, dark, cold winter.

We kicked things off with a party for our playgroup the Friday before V-day. It ended up being a great time for the 13 - 4 and under (yes, I'm pretty sure I am sane) that came. We decorated sugar cookies and then the kids played, pointedly ignoring my "toss the hearts in the mailbox" game.

Here's what Emily's finished product looked like. I had to cut her off from the pink sprinkles or she would have used the whole bottle:

Why would I invite small children over to decorate cookies? Well, here's why: We're planning on getting bamboo floors for the family/dining rooms and I wanted to seal the deal, put the final nail in the carpeted coffin and leave us with no choice but to go forward. The kids didn't destroy the carpet as thoroughly as I had hoped, but we still have plans to drive down to D-town on Monday to pick up our lovely bamboo floor. I'm totally excited. Betcha can't guess what I'll be blogging about in the near future...

So then, on Saturday, Chris gave me chocolates and roses and I made a super romantic, gourmet, after-kids'-bedtime meal for Chris and me: Crab Alfredo for dinner and Chocolate Cakes with Liquid Centers for dessert. I have linked the recipes because the egomaniac in me says that some of you may want to recreate my dinner (and dress up like me while you cook) but I won't post any pictures of the meal itself because 1)I didn't take any pictures and 2) Is it just me or is my blog becoming too obsessed with food? Instead, here's a cute picture of Emily dancing with Jane:

The List

We left the allergist's office yesterday feeling downcast. Emily was carrying a back full of hives and I was carrying a list. That infernal list.

Here's what the list says:

Egg
Peanut
Wheat
Tomato
NO TREE NUTS

(he wrote the last item in capital letters to emphasize the fact that tree nuts would be life threatening)

I knew about the egg, was well aware of the peanut and would risk death to protect Emily from tree nuts. I had no clue - none whatsoever about the wheat or the tomato.

Six weeks. That's how long the doctor told us to take Emily off of those two ubiquitous items. She's not severely allergic, but he said it may help her skin. MAY help? I'm starting to wonder if it's worth it. Emily has always been a picky eater and most of her diet consists of items containing wheat dipped in ketchup or sauced with tomatoes. She refuses to eat any variety of meat and 90% of vegetables. The only two vegetables she will eat are corn or tomatoes.

After she rejected the wheat-free mac and cheese I made her for lunch, she ate a bowl of Rice Krispies. I don't blame her. It's terrible (even though it was about a thousand times more involved to make than the stuff in the box). So was the sandwich on brown rice bread that made up last night's dinner. She couldn't even bite through the bread. How long can a human being survive on Rice Krispies?

So now two choices lay before Emily - eczema or malnourishment. Yesterday, the allergist was acting like eczema was worse. I'm beginning to disagree. I've had eczema for thirty years and would never, never, never give up wheat to be cured.

So now I get the choice of being a bad mom for starving my daughter or a being a bad mom for aggravating my daughter's eczema. It seems like that's how most choices are when it comes to motherhood.

Uncovering a Multitude of Sins

I hate this couch. I selected it when I was young and easily influenced. I hate to admit that we actually purchased it. I would like to tell people that I got this set (yes! it's a set - the loveseat graces my living room) from my grandma when she moved into a nursing home. Not the case. My grandma is not in a nursing home and her sense of decor puts mine to shame. I have to take responsibility for the choice of this hulking, ugly mass of blue chenille.

This week, I tried to hide it with a slipcover. I know I promised my blogfans a detailed story of my slipcovering adventures. As it turns out the story is rather short. Slipcover arrived. I did my best. But, like the beating of the telltale heart, the couch refused to be hid.

Most slipcovers are made for sofas. I need one for an upholstered continent. I wish I would have taken a picture of my handy work, but I didn't. A mental image will have to do: Picture an obese woman wearing a tube top. Picture this tube top being visible only where it covers the most essential part of her upper torso. The rest of the tube top is swallowed up in rolls of fat - front fat, back fat, side fat, every variety of fat the human body can offer. Picture the thin slit of tube top visible from the rear, overlapped by flaps of back breasts. It's not the fault of the tube top. It's giving all it can. And so it was with the slipcover.

In the end I decided to spruce up the blue monster with a couple new throw pillows. I think they make quite a difference. In any event, it looks like I am stuck with this mountain of foam and fabric until I go back to work. So be looking forward to pictures of the most stunning sofa this world has ever seen in t-minus 2 years. And in the meantime, mine is one house where you don't need to feel guilty about farting in the couch cushions. Nothing can harm this beast.

Ottoman is a Funny Word

Five years ago when we moved into this house, it was just Chris and me and a (seemingly) huge, empty house. After we transferred everything from our tiny rental, we were left with empty drawers, an unused bathroom, one bedroom that was entirely vacant except for a twin bed that had seen better days and a living room that lacked furnishing. While my living room is still effectively unfurnished, having children has quickly filled up the rest of the house with hairbows, Barbies, diapers, wipes and stuffed animal after infernal stuffed animal.

At the end of the day, I would try to put everything away, but there was no "away". Stacks of toys adorned the family room and the girls' rooms. The huge amounts of toys that were welcomed into our house at Christmas were giving me nightmares. The house was closing in on us. So for the last few days, we have been organizing like it's 1999.

I started with the bow drawer (this is actually an ongoing effort I started a few months ago but have added to in recent days):

I'm very proud of the re-purposed baby food containers.

That felt so good that we decided it was time for Emily to store her toys in her room. So we got some storage drawers for her closet.

Let me tell you - the ability to actually be able to put all the toys in the family room away almost made me weep with joy. And oddly Emily seems much less willing to destroy her own room than the family room.

Then Chris got in on the effort by putting his x-box crap... er... uh... accessories, I mean, into this fabulous storage ottoman.

If you think this is a boring blog, you've never lived in a house with small children. And some days, I envy you.

Next week, I plan on slipcovering my couch to add to the streamlined feel of my reclaimed family room. And, don't worry, I will be blogging about that effort as well.

What We've Been Up To

I haven't blogged in awhile, so I thought I would catch my reading public up on the most important happenings of late.

Jane is cruising and using her little arm to hold things against her body. I'll get a picture of this sometime and post it. It's super cute.

Emily is still the most determined human being I have ever met. She summed it up when I asked her to stop doing something bad and she told me, "I don't have a choice".

Chris is working like crazy and we are thankful that he has work at a time when so many are being laid off.

And me? The most important thing that's happened to me lately is that I got this slammin' hoodie for $5. I was so excited about it I could hardly sleep that night.

(Of course, the part about the hoodie is all in jest - although I did really get it for $5. Thanks for a great week, Chris. I love you.)

The Magic of Christmas

Before you have children, people tell you life is more fun with kids. Four thousand poopy diapers into the process, you begin to wonder if you were sold a bill of goods. And then Christmas comes along. There are few things more fun in life than a preschooler on Christmas day who has been asking every day since the first snow, "Is it Christmas yet?". Well, today the answer was finally yes.

On Christmas Eve, we read the Christmas Story. It went fairly well. I am amazed at how attentive my small children were through the accounts of Christ's birth in both the new and old worlds.


After that, we started a new tradition. We decided to give the girls new pajamas on Christmas Eve, thus serving the two fold purpose of 1) Giving them something to open that they can use immediately instead of handing them a toy and then saying "Go to bed. You can play with it tomorrow". And, 2)Giving them something to wear that won't look ratty and gross in the Christmas morning pictures. That's the background behind this lively video:



I don't believe there has ever been a human being so excited about a pair of clearance pajamas ever in the history of the world. Jane cleverly used the distraction to steal Emily's sippy, thus resulting in an off-camera fight.

Christmas morning was almost more excitement than Emily could stand. As soon as she saw her castle she exclaimed, "Oh! I wished for a castle!". Perhaps she watches too many princess movies.

Jane just went with the flow - enjoying her own gifts and carefully choosing her moments to help herself to Emily's gifts. And then helping those gifts into her mouth.

It was a wonderful Christmas. Someday I will look back and miss Christmas with small children. And then I will rejoice in the knowledge that my poopy diaper days are over.