Look Ma, No Hands!
When I was in high school, my good friends nicknamed me Stubs. My hands are so small, I was nervous my daughter’s would be bigger at birth. Thanks to my chubby paws, it is difficult to do most tasks that require dexterity. Buttons are my worst enemy. Not to mention how tricky household chores can be when I have to hold several things at once. It’s almost like both of my circus-sized hands equal one normal hand. Thus, I usually need both hands to do anything. Especially to pour soda from a liter bottle.
With the addition of a baby, things have changed. I still need both hands to do things, I’m just forced to do everything with one or zero hands. Instead of fumbling around with the task (like I used to), now I fumble around with a baby as I try to figure out how to button the God-forsaken 22 1/2 buttons on her clothes and clean up the house. It’s almost like God said, “Hey, you know all those things I made it difficult for you to do? Yeah, well now I want you to do all of them at once. Oh, and hold that squirming baby while you’re at it, too. P.S. If you drop her, she’ll die.”
If you never knew, newborn babies are either upset, asleep, or playful. Since it is beyond the human will to see a happy baby and NOT play with it, I do all of my daily chores when Marie is sleeping or fussing. And, since my baby rarely sleeps during the day, that leaves me one option. Because of that, I’ve learned some activities only require the use of one hand: warming bottles, preparing food (unless it’s pouring that dreaded liter bottle), and writing blogs.
Other activities, such as cleaning up around the house, are meant for the feet. Why else would clutter lie on the ground in such close proximity to our toes? We share 98% of our genetics with primates, after all, and I’m pretty sure the ‘pick-stuff-up-with-your-toes’ gene is included in that percentage.
Essentially, I am being trained to be a circus freak. Ringmasters would be impressed at my ability to clutch clothes between my toes and toss them in the hamper from across the room. The painful way my back arches as I try to use my hands without dropping my daughter may also garner their attention. I’m fairly certain I’d be able to swing from the trapeze with my legs or climb a Roman ladder using only one arm. In fact, I may even be able to do those things while holding a baby. That’s what each day at home feels like, at least.