Two posts in a day!

I'm going to post a Vacation Diary soon, but for now I would like to address the following comment to the designers and/or manufacturers of infant clothing: F%@# you.

Honestly, Abby is now at a stage in her development that I believe the pediatricians technically refer to as "squirmy." This means that getting her dressed is no simple feat at the best of times. Try to put her legs into a pair of shorts, and she furiously pedals an imaginary bicycle. Maybe a tricycle. Try to manuever her arms into a T-shirt, and she attempts to cram both her fists in her mouth.

So why is it, then, that some companies develop apparel that really ought to come with instructions on how to best get it on your child? A baby's dress, for example, should be pretty straightforward. Pull over head, yes? No. Some have complex strapping procedures that you don't figure out until said dress is halfway over the baby's shoulders. Then you yank it off, screw around with the straps, and end up trying to plunk her through the dress feet first. But she's too chubby to go that route. It's like Pooh in Rabbit's hole, for crying out loud. So then you go with the pink undershirt and skip the shorts since she's only going to poop-lode all over them anyway.

And don't get me started on sleepers. I'm thinking of lobbying government to pass a law that requires a universal system of sleeper fasteners. Zippers, preferably. But if you have to use clasps, couldn't the clothing companies agree on how many clasps to use, and where they go? I don't know how many times I've put Abby in a sleeper, buttoned it up, and found myself looking at a lonely clasp with no one to hold on to. Now, I start at one foot and consider it a personal victory if I arrive at the other foot without have misbuttoned somewhere along the way.

There. I feel better.

Back in bidness

OK, so when I wrote that I would be updating the blog "soon," I really meant "in about a month." Funny how that works.

The past couple of months have been intensely busy around these parts, including three mini-vacations. I took five weeks of parental leave during that stretch, and it's interesting to see the changes in the kids over the period.

Owen is finally — finally — showing signs that this baby sister of his isn't such a bad idea after all. His attitude toward Abby, stretching back to birth, can be broken into the following stages:
Stage 1: Jealousy This was a brief stage, characterized by Owen annoyed whenever Sue touched Abby. Which was often, obviously. Owen expressed his annoyance by meowing. Meowing angrily. Cauterwaling, maybe?
Stage 2: Tolerance Owen soon came to accept that Sue (and to a lesser extent, I) had to care for Abby. He dealt with it. But he still had absolutely no interest in touching her. Stage 2 could also be named Ambivalence.
Stage 3: Vague Interest A couple of months ago, Owen began making minor efforts to acknowledge the baby. He might give her a toy, or meow at her if she cried.
Stage 4: Mild Interactivity These days, the boy makes the odd attempt to converse with Abby. We've heard him try to console her when she's upset. He gets genuinely worried if we are packing the car and have not yet put Abby in her car seat, as though there's a good chance we will forget her. He tries to rock her when she's in her wee swing (actually, it's more of a violent push than a "rock," but still..)
So there you go. Owen still refuses to hug or kiss Abby, and he declines all attempts to photograph the pair of them together, but then again he tries to avoid photographs of any sort. Possibly it's a religious thing.