Babies Don't Keep

Will loves to stand up, but unfortunately our doorways can't accommodate a jumper, so we were thrilled to find an exersaucer in good condition on the curb. Finally, something he may like!

Will is a very attached little guy. He can tolerate the car--while it's moving--but in any other situation, he always wants to be nursed by Mommy or held by Daddy (and no one else). We can sometimes interest him in playing on the floor for a few minutes, but it is very limited. He can barely stand the stroller, either. Allowing him food has been wonderful, because for the first time, one of us doesn't need to hold him while we eat.

With our need to hold Will all of the time, there are some adjustments we've had to make. David wears him while we both get some things done, and he generally makes all of our meals. (I can't wear Will around the house, because he doesn't like being that close without nursing.) Almost all of our housework is done between midnight and three in the morning. (Thank goodness for babies who generally don't wake before eight.)

We thought an exersaucer would be just the thing to keep him happy while we get something--anything--done. However, you can see he was more interested in being underneath it than in it . . . and only for a couple minutes.

So, while on most days, when the only thing we've accomplished is keeping our boy happy, we comfort ourselves with "Babies Don’t Keep" by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton.

Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo

The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren’t his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

Avonlea Jane was also a constant cuddlebug as a baby, though she would happily let anyone hold her. Now, she's fiercely independent and looking all grown up as she's ready for her first dance class.

Outside the studio, she's so excited.

I can watch her dance class through a window, and there were times when she was listening perfectly and times when it looked like she was completely ignoring her teacher. On the way into the library afterward, I asked her why that was. She told me, "I wasn't listening! I told her and told her my name was Anna-wee Jane, but she kept calling me Emily." Then, for the rest of the evening, we had to keep reassuring her we weren't changing her name to Emily when she said, "But my teacher says it is."

To cheer up our little "Not Emily!" we let her get to cooking in the kitchen. I couldn't find her kid-sized apron, so a big one would have to do.


We made fried green tomatoes, and after she was done coating the tomatoes, I let her go wild with the rest of the flour and cornmeal.

Let's see what happens if we add water.

She liked her apron "dress" so much, she wanted to wear another one while eating dinner.