Little kids, big appetites
It is a strange day when your child can suddenly out-eat you — a grown adult. I always knew it was coming, but I never thought it would happen at the age of six.
Our son was a year and half when his little sister was born, so for years they’ve always been similar sizes and eaten similar portions. Their plates have looked virtually identical, right down to the way foods are chopped or halved. When we ate in restaurants, they either shared a meal or we ended up bringing a ton of food home for the next day (#winning).
Lately, though, there’s been a big change in their appetites. They’re no longer little carbon copies of each other, and the gap between four-and-a-half and six feels wider.
Our eldest is a good (if slightly picky) eater and a genuine fan of sitting down to a hearty meal. He’ll tuck into a bowl of pasta or a plate of chicken, rice and veggies with gusto, and then have seconds — maybe thirds — along with a couple glasses of milk.
He’s surpassed me this summer, eating more at just about every meal. Everyone keeps saying it must be a growth spurt, but … I don’t think he’s growing? His size six jeans are still falling off him, even with those annoying waist-cinchers as tight as they can go.
Our youngest, though, is not a fan of mealtime these days. If she had her way, she’d happily graze on little snacks all the livelong day. Every 30 minutes, ideally. We have daily battles over the fact that, no, she’s not having a snack at 4:30 p.m. Or five minutes after dinner is over.
While she is certainly a more adventurous eater, her delicate appetite is looking positively toddler-like compared to the teenager-sized one across the table at her brother’s place.
I don’t know whether it’s out of habit or nostalgia, but I still find myself serving them identical little portions. Three pancakes each, and he’ll ask for seconds while she only manages one. A banana muffin each, and suddenly he’s polished off the container full of them. A slice of pizza each, and she stops halfway through and he plows through FIVE MORE SLICES.
(Meanwhile I’ve stopped at three slices and am marvelling over how he’s doing it. Where it is all going?! Most importantly, why isn’t he getting any bigger?!)
It’s hard for your brain to catch up sometimes, after years of cutting chicken and steak into little bites. Slicing grapes and baby carrots down the middle so they’re not choking hazards. Peeling the skin off apples and arranging the thin slivers around the edge of the plate.
How does that morph into making them huge sandwiches between meals? Making pre-practice meals to fuel them up and then post-practice meals because they’re starving again? Running out of milk in a day because someone drank most of a carton without realizing it?
Whenever I see my teenaged nephews, I ask them what they’ve eaten so far that day because it’s kind of fascinating. Breakfast was pretty light, one explained to me the other day — toast, cereal and yogurt. Lunch wound up being a foot-long sub, two loaded tacos and a big ol’ serving of nachos. Woah.
You hear parents moan about the work and expense of feeding these hungry tweens and teens, and they’re not joking. I just sat down and made a full-week grocery list that included everything we needed for school lunches and snacks, and I can’t imagine how much pricier it’s going to get in a few years.
While I’m calculating — and plotting out a massive backyard garden to sustain us through the Hungry Hungry Teen Years — I should also be baking muffins because we’re out already. Again.
DIY built-in desk for the kitchen
Last month I shared the HUGE transformation of painting our hutches white, but this the final part of that story: a built-in desk squeezed into the tiny nook left on that wall.
It was wasted space, really. We had one main hutch, a second hand-me-down hutch (both pretty much loaded with the kids’ art supplies rather than dishes), and a 24” gap. A space like that isn’t good for much, except maybe a fiddle-leaf fig. (I’m working on keeping practice plants alive at the moment.)
I’ve always stored my Chromebook in the top drawer of the main hutch, and then just set it up on the dining room table whenever I needed it. But then the power cord stretched across the room, and tripping hazards are never good in a house with little kids and clumsy adults.
I decided the little 24” gap was perfect for sneaking in a small built-in desk.
This was before I got my very own power tools for my birthday, so my handy husband whipped up a simple desktop out of 2x4s. Since space was at a premium, he used brackets to secure it to the wall so it only needed two slim legs at the front.
“Do you recognize these?” he said, pointing to the dark wood legs like they were supposed to be familiar. “They’re from the crib.”
The crib that we converted into a bench TWO YEARS AGO, if you’ll recall, and apparently these pieces were taken off in the process. Yes, he really does save every scrap of wood in case it can come in handy someday!
I painted the desk the same colour I’d just done the hutches (Fusion Mineral Paint in “Casement” white), and we already had a chair that fit nearly under it — although I’m looking around for a new one. Then I drilled a small plastic basket (from the Dollar Store) underneath the desk to hold the computer cords so they wouldn’t droop everywhere.
I needed fairly narrow artwork for above the desk, so I rummaged in my DIY closet (it’s under the basement stairs — very glamorous) and found an old pink-painted frame. After a few coats of “Casement,” it looked great above the desk framing a white, yellow and pale blue paper cut-out.
The final step was setting up the World’s Smallest Desk. I snagged a lamp from our basement with a fairly slim base so it didn’t take up valuable real estate, and spray-painted a black plastic pencil cup to give it an aged gold look. The desk is so small that our mousepad looked like a black hole, so I ended up cutting it down and recovering it with a pretty grey-patterned fabric.
Having a “kitchen desk” is really practical, I’ve discovered, so now I understand why they’re built into so many new homes. I’ve found myself sitting down to send emails or finish up assignments while also keeping an eye on something in the oven or on the stove.
The kids have enjoyed it even more, though, because it’s given them more opportunities to play Starfall (a great educational site for preschoolers and kindergarteners). I love seeing them cozied up together on the single chair, counting out loud and clicking on different letters … until it inevitably turns to fighting over turns, of course.
Let’s hear it for the hardest-working 24” in the house!
Here we go, Grade 1
Primary blew by at the speed of light, and suddenly there was a little boy — a BIG little boy with a brand-new haircut — standing eagerly at the bus stop ready for Grade 1.
I’m so eager for D to get home so I can find out what Grade 1 was like.
I hope his teacher loves him the way I want her to (i.e. explicitly, reverently, madly). I hope he was polite and quiet and made a good impression. I hope the questionably-behaved kids are in another class so they don’t leadeth him into temptation. I hope he didn’t feel like he’s forgotten everything over the summer (he … he possibly has?). I hope he gets off the bus grinning and full of stories.
I can’t believe we’re just a year away from having both kids in elementary school — one in Grade 2, one in Primary.
Instead of the 6.5 hours I’ll start having as of next week, when C starts preschool again, I’ll have … wait for it … 27.5 hours every single week in which to work, all alone, in a quiet house.
I know, I know. It’s still a YEAR away, and I don’t want to wish away this time — my last year with a little one at home — but …
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… it’s still going to be pretty rad.
Why puppies are like newborns
I was holding the warm blanket-wrapped bundle in my arms when my husband came home from work. He dared to ask how the second evening with our third baby had gone, and the floodgates opened.
“I haven’t had a minute to myself! I’m with her every second! Am I going to have time to sew or paint or do ANYTHING alone ever again?!”
The puppy started licking my neck excitedly and I couldn’t help but kiss her fuzzy head. I remember having exactly the same desperation for alone time twice before.
Wise dog owners told me that having a puppy in the house was like having a newborn, but I thought they were only referring to the lack of sleep. Oh no. It’s much more than that.
Except it’s possibly MORE painful now, because I’ve been spoiled in recent years — having two independent, capable children whom I can trust to do their own thing. We’ve been out of the “baby stage” for a solid two years now, and I’d forgotten how tiring it can be.
Just like in those newborn days, the life I once knew has evaporated completely.
I have zero alone time or time with my husband. I literally have not watched an adult TV show because I go to bed at the same time as the kids, knowing I’ll be up a few times in the night. Except instead of breastfeeding and maybe eating a midnight snack, I’m standing in the front yard in my PJs — waving to the startled deer across the street.
There’s also the hot debate over sleeping, just like the crib vs. co-sleep drama on all of those parenting forums.
My husband was firm that we make Annabelle sleep in her crate overnight, while others convinced me she’d sleep better in our bed. Even though I was totally against co-sleeping with our human children — every stir woke me up — I guiltily welcomed our puppy into bed from the very first night. (Thank God for husbands who work night shifts, huh?) She’s been a dream to snuggle with, even when she wraps her fuzzy body around my neck like a travel pillow.
Taking Annabelle outside to “potty” what feels like every 30 minutes reminds of the days when I was sitting down to breastfeed round-the-clock.
I can’t get anything done! Although at least while I was breastfeeding, I could watch TV or eat a snack. Nowadays I’m standing in our yard, poo-bag in hand, coaxing a 4 lb. fuzzball to do her business. I am, however, getting a lot more fresh air. When she’s bigger than a hamster, I’ll also be getting more exercise since we’ll be going on actual walks.
Going places is more difficult.
Going places used to be a breeze, especially since both kids can buckle themselves and the eldest can open and close the sliding door of the van. But the kid and I had to run errands less than 24 hours after getting Annabelle, and the experts said not to leave her at home in her crate for the first few days. What were we supposed to do?
I ended up wedging her not-meant-to-be-mobile crate into the passenger seat — oh, the memories of dragging around those heavy bucket car seats — and she quietly curled up on her blanket while we drove through town. Dogs aren’t allowed in most stores, unlike babies (who are happily accepted everywhere except nice restaurants). I couldn’t leave the dog in the hot car and I certainly couldn’t leave the dog AND the children waiting outside of the store. It felt like that river-crossing puzzle about the chicken, the fox and the bag of grain!
In the end, I picked super-small stores and waited right outside the door with Annabelle, sending my children in with a $20 bill to get whatever we needed. They were overjoyed with the responsibility of going in alone and keep begging to do it again. (I also bought a doggie carrier that looks like a gym bag which will apparently allow me to bring Annabelle into certain stores.)
Without a doubt, though, the biggest challenge has been the fact that I have to watch her every movement — inside, outside, everywhere.
If she looks like she’s squatting to pee, I need to see that and swoop her outside. If she gnaws on the kitchen stools or the dining room chairs or the coffee table — seriously, is she part beaver? — I need to distract her with a chew toy. It’s exactly like supervising a baby that’s into everything!
With babies, though, you can stick them in a bouncy chair, Jumperoo or Circle of Neglect (i.e. Exersaucer) and bring them around the house with you. Not so much with puppies — at least not yet. I’ve read that you’re supposed to introduce new areas of your house slowly so they don’t get overwhelmed. Our main level is the only puppy-proof, carpet-free area so that’s where I’m spending 95 per cent of my life these days.
(My favourite place in the house, my office/studio, is a death-trap because the floor is littered with bobbins, scraps of fabric, bits of paper and probably a dozen pins. I’m either going to need to morph into a tidy creator or never, ever bring her in there.)
Just like with babies, puppy naptime is sacred.
When she finally crawls into her crate and closes her sleepy eyes, I’m elated that I have half an hour in which I don’t have to watch her every minute. I get a bit nuts about it, too, especially when my four-year-old and six-year-old DARE to wake the sleeping baby.
“Shhhh! Please! Just let her sleep!” I’ll plead from the kitchen, when I’m washing dishes, loading the dishwasher and making dinner as quickly as I can. Those thirty minutes are pure gold.
Annabelle is barely eight weeks old and I know things will get easier, just like it does with babies. She’ll learn to stop chewing the trim, we’ll be able to crate her when we go out, and our lives will settle into a new normal.
Despite the potty breaks and the accidents and the constant supervision and correcting, she is already a beloved member of our family and the perfect “third baby.”
DIY faux floating shelves
I’ll never know if my husband bought me my own mitre saw and drill set for my birthday out of love, or because he no longer wanted to be responsible for executing all of my crazy Pinterest ideas.
Either way, I finally have my own power tools!
BONUS: I still have all of my fingers to type this.
My very first project, on my actual birthday, was building faux floating shelves for our basement bathroom. I wanted them to be somewhere around 24” long to fit neatly above the toilet. I decided buying a single 6’1 x 6 board made sense, since I could get three shelves out of it.
(Why oh WHY does a 1 x 6 board actually measure 3/4” by 5 1/2”? I don’t understand it, but I’m going to have to start thinking of “1 x 6” as a nickname rather than actual measurements.)
I used my new saw to cut three shelf pieces — each one 22” long. Then I grabbed a long skinny 1×2 and chopped off six little pieces — one to match up with each end of the shelves. No measuring tape required, by the way. I just held the 1 x 2 up against the end of a shelf and drew a pencil line, and then used my first piece as a template to cut the other five.
The last cuts were boards for the front to create the sneaky look of having thick, chunky floating shelves. I stood up the short end pieces against the shelves, held a long piece of 1×2 in front of the whole thing, marked it off, and knew exactly where to cut to make a little “apron” for each shelf.
I borrowed my handy husband’s brad nailer to attach the pieces together and, wow, that thing is awesome. It’s like a gluegun for wood! In no time at all, I had all three shelves assembled. If I flipped them over, they looked like a wooden tray missing one long side.
After a visit to the backyard to stain them (Minwax’s “Dark Walnut”), I brought them back inside to measure where the brackets would go. So these aren’t technically floating shelves because of the brackets, but I knew I could hide them with accessories.
I marked that each bracket would be 5” in from the edges and then had to laugh at the tools I was using: a 4B sketching pencil and a sewing measuring tape! Three of my hobbies converged right there on my first-ever woodworking project.
I predrilled the holes so the wood wouldn’t split and then screwed two brackets into each of the three shelves. I didn’t even remove the price stickers, it seems, since I was too excited to get them on the wall.
Installation would have been easier with two sets of hands, but I’d done everything myself so far and stubbornly refused to bring in my husband in those final minutes. Holding a pencil between my teeth and my drill between my knees, I climbed the step stool, pressed the first shelf against the wall — with a level balanced on top — and scribbled shakily inside the bracket holes where I needed to drill.
Once all three shelves were snug in the wall — complete with wall anchors! Look at me! — I stood back to admire my work. The first thing I noticed was that I probably should have added a bottom board to the underside of the shelves — at least the highest one — since you could see the “tray” design and it ruined the illusion of one thick shelf. Oh well. I think I’ll try that next time!
Giddy with a sense of accomplishment and feeling like the next Amy Wynn Pastor (#TradingSpacesForever), I styled my new shelves with bits and pieces I’d been squirreling away for the basement bathroom. Chalk-painted mason jars with sanded detail, a tin can and silver canister I’d “faux-tarnished” with stain and a tin bucket to hold guest toiletries. I admit the jar of epsom salts is silly because there’s no tub in that room, but I like the way it looks!
You can’t see the brackets at all now that the shelves are full, and they really do look like chunky floating shelves. I’ll always think of them as my “birthday shelves” since I made them and installed them on the very same day I received my new mitre saw and drill set.
And you’d better believe I haven’t stopped building since!
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Heather's Handmade Life 