Irresponsible Mothering Is an Art

The other morning I was blow drying my hair, and Clara was playing quietly around the corner. The quiet should have, perhaps, been my clue that she was up to no good, because pretty soon she came around the corner wielding a crochet hook in each hand, which she had somehow gotten out of a closed box (her resourcefulness is terrifying). Clearly, the fact that Clara had some uninterrupted playtime with two eye gougers is a mark of irresponsible mothering, but really it wouldn't seem nearly as bad had I not found her chewing on a dirty diaper two minutes before this picture was taken, or if I had not found her trying to lift the toilet lid two minutes after. The moral of the story: I should not dry my hair.

Flu Shots

We have to take Clara to the allergist for her flu shot, on account of her egg allergy. (Who knew they grew the influenza vaccine inside of eggs? I seriously learn something new every day.) Because they have to test her on several different levels to see if she'll react to the vaccine (scratch test on her back, subdermal injection, then perhaps several small doses of the actual vaccine) the whole ordeal may take up to four hours. Poor baby!

On a happier allergy-related front, I did whip up a successful batch of wheat-dairy-egg-free pancakes for Clara, and she loved them. All is not lost!

Wish us luck on Thursday! (Or wish Jeremy luck! I'll be teaching that morning, so he gets to wrastle Clara at the allergist. What an excellent father.)

Giving Thanks

Clara really did us proud with her Thanksgiving eating. I think the secret sleep chemicals in the turkey are starting to take their toll at this point. Wow. (Click on the picture to get the zoomed-in view of just how ucky she really is.)


Our great friends Stephanie and Steve and their two boys came up from Philadelphia to spend Thanksgiving with us. We loved being able to spend time with them and are grateful for their friendship, after all these years. We ate plentifully on Thanksgiving, then we took them on a lovely winter tour of Syracuse before ending up at the MOST (Museum of Science and Technology) for the afternoon on Friday. We all had a blast, but I think Thomas and Hewitt were in heaven. Clara seemed to enjoy herself as well (she looks really wild in all of the pictures we took this weekend; it must be the hair).

Wheat-free baking, Take II

Wheat-free baking is the pits. We've tried two recipes with very, very marginal success (if one defines success in baking as "technically edible"). Here is Clara sampling some really dry oat flour biscuits. She obviously doesn't look that sad about it, as eventually she just thought we were playing a game of "touch-the-nasty-biscuit-to-your-tongue-and-smile-about-it." But she didn't really eat any of it. Classic.

The quest continues...

You Should've Seen the Other Girl

Clara got her first black eye today at church. No, she was not boxing with other babies. I was holding her on my lap, just sitting there, when she suddenly decided to make a lunge for the hymn books. I couldn't catch her, and she fell head-first onto the hymnal holder. I had her out of the chapel before she'd even released her first wail, but I was shocked to see a bleeding eye! I panicked, since I am a rookie mom, and went back in to get one of our doctor friends, who decided she didn't need a stitch and that she would not be going blind anytime soon. Ugh. Anyway, poor Clara had a rough Sunday between the black eye, her cold, and a wicked diaper rash. She's much happier today, though her eye is a bit more swollen and bruised than it was yesterday. And I actually don't think this picture does it justice, since you can't see all of the bruising on the top of her eye. In any event, I just console myself by realizing that we survived Clara's first injury!

Dish Duty

I like to believe that one of the reasons my home is not as clean and tidy as it should be is because I have a 21 pound tornado living with me who likes to follow me around creating havoc. Here is evidence of said havoc (a wide-angle shot would've shown even more havoc). We can no longer do the dishes together.

Just Because

When you're helping you're happy

Clara loves taking objects out of containers, although she is far less enthused about putting them back. Some might say that she's never actually put anything away. Some would be right. Here Clara is "helping" me sort through some of her old clothes while looking for any larger clothes we may not have removed from storage. She thought it was a great activity. I just realize everytime I take a picture of her playing on the floor that our apartment looks pretty mangy from floor level. Oh well.

Happy Birthday, CB!

Our sweet Clara turns one today, and Jeremy and I have certainly done our fair share of nostalgic waxing over the last few days. Just over a year ago, I was in the hospital hooked up to all manner of monitors and feeling the warm rush of magnesium pushing through my veins, all in an effort to keep my little pea in the pod for just a little while longer. But Clara was ready to get on with things, even then, which probably explains why she decided to kung-fu fight her way out of me by breaking my water with her tiny, powerful fists. Or feet. At least that's how I think my water broke.

I remember so distinctly that when my doctor came to check on me on the morning of November 4, 2006 and then announced that the baby would come today, I was overwhelmed with feelings of anxiety and excitement. As the nurses prepped me for surgery, I remember shaking and crying and not knowing what exactly was going to happen. Within the hour, though, I heard the miraculous sound of Clara crying, and at least for that moment I allowed myself to believe that all would be well. As we slogged through two and a half weeks in the NICU waiting for her to stop forgetting to breathe from time to time, I felt more exhausted than I ever had in my life, but yet there she was, all nuzzled in her isolette with a perfectly proportioned body, light, fuzzy blonde hair, and dark eyes that even then seemed to absorb everything around her.

We brought Clara home from the hospital the day before Thanksgiving, and I sat in the back to watch her breathe. I was so nervous that the doctors and nurses were wrong and that something would happen to her. After all, she was still so small, and Jeremy and I certainly had no clue what we were doing. But as we drove home on that brisk, sunny day, I felt very happy to be together as a family.

I'm sure no one really wants to hear me ramble on and on about how wonderful my daughter is, but I will just say that I am so grateful for her, so in love with her, that I have a hard time finding words that can encompass the breadth and depth of my emotion. Even at times when I feel exhausted from chasing around the busiest little girl I have ever seen, I always feel a stir of excitement when I hear her wake up in the morning. She is truly a miracle. Jeremy and I waited a very long time to bring a child home from the hospital, and now that we have Clara I often reflect about our first miracle, Sam, and how much I wish he and Clara could be together. But I know that Sam is aware of us, that he loves us, and that he and Clara and our subsequent children will have a unique relationship, even though he has left this life. I'm grateful for both of my sweet children.

So Happy Birthday, Clara! Thanks for being such an ideal baby, and for bringing light and joy to the hearts of the people you meet. We are so proud to be your parents.

Food Allergies--Bah!

Here is a photo of seven of the eight most common food allergies. You can breath a sigh of relief that Clara has only been diagnosed with four of them (yes, I know--what a relief--ugh).

We took her to the allergist yesterday, and a scratch test confirmed allergies to eggs, milk, wheat, and peanuts. She had the most severe reactions to eggs and milk, and her reactions to wheat and peanut were mild enough that the doctor is not sure she's allergic. But for now, we are to treat all four as serious allergies and will vigilantly avoid them. We have to carry an epi-pen with us, although that's more of a precaution than anything, as it's possible she could ingest her allergens without that severe of a reaction. Nevertheless, we're feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the diagnoses.

Since the wheat poke produced such a small hive, they want to do what they call an "oral challenge" of wheat, where I'll take Clara and bowl of Cream of Wheat to the doctor's office and she'll eat the Cream of Wheat while they watch her for signs of reaction. We're to avoid all traces of peanuts until she is at least three, and then not until she's been tested again. And for all of the allergies she'll have a yearly scratch test to see if she outgrows any of them.

The good news is that 80 percent of children with wheat, milk, and egg allergies outgrow them between the ages of three and five. Only 20 percent outgrow a peanut allergy, so if she does in fact have one she'll probably hang onto that for life. All said, though, I know it could be worse, and I'm very grateful she's not allergic to soy as well (although everytime her cheeks look rosy at all I think, "Oh my gosh! Maybe she's allergic to soy! Or rice! Or whatever!").

At any rate, I'm giving myself a few days to feel overwhelmed about it, then I'm planning to start being proactive next week. Mark your calendars.