Eczema wins again.
We have gone from good  to bad to worse.  There was a wonderful 4 or 5 day period of no eczema.  I was excited, thinking maybe something that we had changed, the diet, the new regimine of creams or lotions, or even different pollens in the air, something, was working.  Instead, I think we just got lucky because in a few days the very dry skin reappeared, and then back to red patches and severe itchiness.  And now she is now covered in blisters.  They appeared Saturday morning, and I thought they were tiny inflamed bug bites.  I checked the dogs, took off all of her bedding, and finally realized that if we had flea infested house or dogs, it was likely that someone else in the household would also have at least one bite, and that the fleas might not be smart enough to only bite the parts of her skin with eczema.  It still didn't register that these were blisters until Patrick took her to daycare this morning and they immediately called and said that they needed a doctor's note to say that her blisters were not contagious.  Blisters are a common part of eczema, sadly, so it seems pretty likely that this is just something else we will have to try to figure out.  We were headed to the doctor tomorrow to do blood draws for allergy testing, so now she is home with me and we go to the doctor this afternoon.  Poor girl.
On a more amusing eczema note, I have started putting her to sleep with socks on her hands to keep the cream on and to keep her from scratching herself or chewing on her hands. I thought this would be torturous, but instead she seems to think that it is pretty funny.  She carries her sock mittens over to me and once they are on starts acting as though the are puppets, saying "Ga ga gaaa" in a silly voice and wiggling her hands over and over. 

She does not wear that hat to bed, although chances are good that she would try if I let her.  I have also tried to take pictures of her hands (where the blisters are the worst), but everytime I do so she keeps playing patty cake with the camera.  It is very effective at getting me to laugh, and her to laugh, but it does make taking pictures more challenging than usual. 

Nice to see you again.
During the summer the girls are going to daycare three days a week and staying home with me two days.  This is partly to take advantage of a quieter schedule, partly because that schedule comes with a significant lack of pay, and partly because in the chaos of the past year I feel like we have not spent very much time relaxing and enjoying ourselves as a family.  This summer schedule forces me to not work or be productive a few days a week, which is somehow translating to me not feeling as guilty for the times when I am not doing work.  Because now I am clearly not supposed to do work all of the time, which makes it ok (in my head, at least, which is really the only place that matters).

So we have been playing more, wandering more, enjoying ourselves a little bit more.  This morning I took the girls to the bookstore and we wandered the bargain books and childrens section for a while.  Actually, Mariel and I wandered, Noella ran around, took everything she could get her hands on off of shelves, chose some books to carry around while yelling "BOOH!", took her shoes and socks off, picked out five stuffed lions to carry in her arms, and said "hi" to everyone in the store.  For some reason they did not kick us out and we left with some workbooks for Mariel to practice letters and a new book that came with a special ballet slipper neclace.  Yes, it was probably made in China (and she has been forbidden to put it near her mouth), will probably break or be lost in a few days, but it has made her very, very happy.  It has been a good day, with happy kids in good moods and with (relatively) good behavior.  I think it is good for all of us to see each other again like this...

The quilt a month club

I have been busy with sewing lately- averaging a quilt a month since March.  I think I am done for a little while, unless I get any requests or am hit by sudden inspiration.  It has been very fun to be back in the tactile, crafty world of sewing and actually make things.  Still, my eyes need a break!

It started in March, with the "Ballerina Princess" quilt for Mariel's birthday:

April was the "Baby Bishop" Quilt for my nephew (complete with the photo of Daniel, thanks to Babci, below):

And now May is the "Favorite Things" quilt for a friend of Mariel's whose family is moving away from St Louis far too soon.  She is a ballerina princess like Mariel, although she favors blue and purple and has a special love for horses:

B as in Boy
We all know that things change after you have children.  For example, right now as I try to spend 5 minutes on the computer I am being interupted every two minutes to decipher your Mariel's attempt to spell.  Word at the moment: MARFEFNM.  I do not know how to pronounce that. 
Another example: Sleep.  Deep, unworried unstressed uncomplicated sleep.  I think that I used to know what that felt like. 
The big change that I am dealing with right now, though, is what happens to a woman's body after children.  It's just not really the same.  Ever.  No matter what people tell you.  Some new items after baby 2:
My knees ache.
And they have mysteriously developed wrinkles, as though somehow post-pregnancy some extra skin slid down around my knees.  Haven't noticed?  That is because I don't wear shorts unless it is 100 degrees or I don't think anyone will see me. That policy developed after baby 1, with the increase in spider veins. 
My hair curls in the back (note: this means in the back ONLY, as the hair on the front of my head remains perfectly straight).
My belly button just really has never looked the same.
And now, after nursing the second girl I face something that I have truly never faced before, as I think puberty took me from A to D in about 60 seconds.  Pregnancy and nursing took me to the bizarre far reaches of G. Now, I may not recognize myself in a mirror.  I am a B.  I hope those kids really love me.

Follow up to the Daddies Patrick
Patrick (mine) thinks that this sounds like a band, but probably one that only sings Irish music.
His previous ideas of band names were things like "Unemployed in Greenland" and "Chewing on a Ball of Tinfoil" (actually, that might be the first album name).  That was back in his early years, the years of Bon Jovi and the like.  So I guess some things might change for men after children, too, even if they are not subjected to quite the same events as their partners.

Musical children and the Daddies Patrick
Somehow this turned into a very long and tiring weekend.  Lots of things on our plate combined with fretting over Noella and her skin.  Patrick even joined my state of general anxiety, heading to the drug store early this morning to buy special Eucerin Anti-Itch lotion.  I declared her a victim of seasonal allergies, and said she was not allowed to go outside. This was not easy, her being a kid and it being a gorgeous day, and eventually I actually had to go outside (she could either come with me or stay home alone, which did not seem the best option).
Patrick spent most of today trying to take down the crushed gutter from our massive storm last weekend.  (Side note: This weekend we got our family basement time at 9pm on Friday night for tornado warnings. We need a better basement arrangement!  Sometime over the course of that storm a rear neighbor's tree split and is hanging over our yard. No damage..yet.)
Anyway- Patrick's day was devoted to the gutter with the help of various neighbors and "the other Patrick"s very very tall ladder.  The other Patrick (this is what Mariel actually calls him) lives two doors down with two daughters of his own.  His eldest, Beatrice,  is just a bit younger than Mariel, and the two of them started off playing at their house, broke it off for lunch, then came to our house for several hours this afternoon, and then went out shopping with her mom, Amy, before dinner.  We declared it "musical children" day. 
It is an interesting study to see the moods the two of them go through in a day together.  At their house, Mariel was polite, quiet, thoughtful, and well behaved while Beatrice and her sister fought and refused to share with one another.  At our house Beatrice was sweet, well mannered, and so kind to Noella while Mariel descended into a frenzy of misbehavior.  I wonder if there is something territorial about it all? 
There was a time this afternoon when the girls were playing (nicely) in the living room while both Patricks climbed ladders outside the window and sliding doors.  The girls watched, laughing, trying to identify which of the ladders belonged to which of the "Daddy Patricks."