We are barefoot over here, my friends. No socks, no slippers. And in full defiance of our lease, 15 of my 16 windows are wide open. The 16th would be, but the chain is broken and I haven't anything with which to prop the window up. It is glorious.
The cats spent the first few hours of open windows meowing loudly and jumping on the counters, because apparently fresh air causes my cats to lose their minds. Thankfully both of Abigail's Wednesday therapists are cat people.
Speaking of therapy, I opted out of both sessions today so that I could do some mega spring cleaning in the kitchen. First there was the pregnancy, then the miscarriage, then we all got sick, so it has been a long time since I've really felt normal. Not much was getting done, but last night, we were feeling pretty good and the 80 degree temperatures had us dying to go outside. I convinced Matt to do the couch to 5K program that I did last year if I did it with him. (Brag note: I actually kept up my running since last year and can run for 30 minutes straight still). Anyway, we started last night and the exercise was amazing! I felt soooo good and so strong that I kept the momentum going this morning and did a 30 minute Jillian Michael's DVD before diving into the kitchen spring cleaning. It took about 3 hours, involved cupboard re-arranging, cupboard scrubbing, stove cleaning, move-everything-off-the-counters-and-scrub-ing. I threw out an entire bag of trash (too old baking sheets, empty jars I was saving in case I needed more containers) and went through an entire roll of paper towels, but my kitchen is sparkling clean.
Always one to keep a good clean going, I also did the dining and living rooms. You see, my friends, cities are DIR-TAY! Wicked, ultra, mega dirty. The amount of dirt that blows in the open windows is appalling. So after a few months of having not cleaned my windows or sills, they were pretty nasty. As in, better-scrub-that-twice-because-the-first-time-all-you-did-was-swoosh-dirt-around dirty. I went through another roll of paper towels on the remaining 6 windows and sills. Cleaning those bad boys can be quite annoying as the decades-old paint job is doing some pretty heavy chipping. I'm pretty sure these are the original 1920s windows, and the painters have only ever added new coat atop old coat. One swipe of the paper towels sends little paint chip flakes sprinkling to the ground like confetti on New Year's. By the time I was done, my living room floor was a dead ringer for a lead paint discloser pamphlet picture. As much as I love Chicago, we'd need to make a lot of repairs to this place if we were going to be staying for any length of time.
I have been making great strides in the Abigail-needs-to-be-self-feeding department. Her problems to a large extent are prolonged by me because I hate messy feeding. I would much rather just spoon feed Abigail myself instead of cleaning up a giant mess. But when I was pregnant, I realized that we really needed to get her up and running so that I would be able to feed her and the baby or myself at the same time. Obviously that's not the deadline anymore, but I would still love my almost-two-year-old eating by herself. So I have vowed that on at least two evenings a week, when she'll be taking a bath anyway, she can have full-on messy feeding time.
I also realized that bibs help give her more independence and me more cleanliness during off-days.
It's a struggle for me, but Abigail's therapists think her aversion to new sensations may be contributing to her insane pickiness, but getting her hands messy will help her accomodate new textures. We also met with a nutritionist recently who gave me a bunch of tips to expand her 12-food diet. I also did a comprehensive analysis of her diet (which I reviewed with the nutritionist) and realized that she's not getting enough calories or fiber. But my obsession with protein means that she's getting about 3x the amount of protein daily that toddlers require.
All this work over nutrition is at the nudging of her cardiologist and MI pediatrician who are concerned about her insanely slow weight gain. She's falling off the curve of a Ds weight chart and they're getting worried. Her FL pediatrician and I were/are not very concerned because she's continuing to develop and hit her milestones, so we know there is no malnutrition. On the other hand, knowing that her calories are fiber are coming up short makes me more concerned.
But anyway, yes, glorious spring weather. And shockingly pink capris on cute little legs. Abigail's, of course, my legs are sleek and sexy and my calves are rock-hard. Of course.