That’s 3 out of 5 of us who aren’t sick. Well, I’m still a bit sick, but I’m highly functional, so I count as healthy. K is sick again, and Mr. December just succumbed to the virus yesterday. I will say, in his favour, that he never gets a “man cold”. He just lies silently in bed and groans when I poke him to make sure he’s alive.
We’re soldiering along in the wake of the part-time nanny’s sudden leaving. A friend’s sister was looking for some temporary work (thank God for these artsy musician types!) and she’s fabulous with the kids. We’re now searching for a permanent nanny. We probably could have found one in about five hours, except for the fact that Mr. December is holding out for an Israeli nanny who will force us all to practice our Hebrew all day long.
K has been ridiculously defiant lately. It doesn’t matter what I ask her to do, her default position is “no way.” Going to bed, using the toilet, eating… if I want her to do it, she won’t. There was an incident with the bath the other night during which she perched herself on the two built-in corner shelves above the tub and wouldn’t come down, but I’m committed to not posting embarrassing stories about my kids on the blog, just in case they want to run for office one day. For the curious among you, just imagine bathing a cat, except the cat is an exceptionally strong, agile four-year-old girl. I still have bruises.
It’s just in the past few days that I’ve returned to some of my creative stuff. I sewed a new table runner yesterday because I was tired of our Shabbat table being plain boring white every week. I’m making placemats because I think I need them, and because they’ll teach my kids to set the table properly. And I have some hand-me-down fabric that I might just use to try some machine smocking, since it’s not a colour I’d use for anyone except a baby.
Oh, and a raccoon has chewed through the wooden frame of our garage door AND excavated some of the asphalt next to it, just so it can live in our bakfiets. I’m thinking I’d like to buy a shotgun. Look for my upcoming tutorial on sewing your own ‘coonskin cap.
Kidding. I’m kidding. I look terrible in fur. I’ll just make a nice little rug for the bakfiets. Poetic justice, right?