Annabel is a healthy, happy toddler who will continue to be happy and healthy, no matter what size house you live in.
Barring catastrophic falls because I happen to turn my back for two seconds. Sigh.
I'm about to go read for an hour, now that she's in bed, because I want to actually do some relaxing, just-for-fun reading for a change, dammit. (My books of the week have been fiction research that's interesting but a bit of a slog, plus a memoir I felt like I
should
read because it's considered Important among the sort of lefty Christians I commune with, only I thought the author was self-indulgent and self-important, and couldn't present an idea in an orderly linear fashion if his life depended upon it, so last night I gave myself permission to put it in the back-to-library pile unfinished.) And then I'm going to take a fresh look at the living room and see if I can reconfigure things a little so that every second of my life won't be a game of keepaway.
Middle class famalies in NYC live in one bedroom apartments for YEARS after a baby is born. And they don't seem to have a rash of developmental delays. (We DO have baby bars on the windows though and those are darn handy)
I grew up in a big house and look how screwed up I am.
Maybe we ought to start giving stuff away at bridal showers. Make it a sort of free-for-all to claim duplicate stuff.
Back in my mid-20s when soooooo many of my college friends were getting married, and I was suffering from a massive, ugly broken heart, I thought it should be acceptible to have a "Well, it looks like I'm gonna be single for a while" shower. It seemed to be more unfair that I was expected to shell out for nice new things for friends that were becoming dual-income families, when I had fished so many of my own belongings out of the trash after end-of-year dorm migrations, than it was that their relationships worked out when mine did not.
I grew up in a big house and look how screwed up I am.
I got dropped on my head as a baby, while living in a medium-sized house, and look how great I turned out!
I think part of how kids learn not to hit there heads on things - is by doing it a few times. Many more than you would think nessacry .
hey Dylan , good to see you around.
Someday I will send some recipes in...
happy anniversary to Jessica and Fonebone.
and there was one more thing , but I forgot.
Barring catastrophic falls because I happen to turn my back for two seconds. Sigh.
My kid, living in a moderately baby-proofed house with her own baby-proofed room, fell and cut her head on the coffee table.
TWICE.
Catastrophic falls happen, and you feel like a rotten parent, but they happen to everybody.
I think I was over my more major ouchies (6 stitches in knee, 2 x 6 in chin) before they took the stitches out. It's the parents for whom it lingers (well, most parents. not mine).
As a child of about 4 or 5 I fell off the top of an upright piano. Also, at preschool age my older brother, my sister and I all wandered out onto the highway in front of our farm. In each case someone stopped and brought us back to our mom.
I tried to amputate my own fingers with a blender when I was 6.
