A strange week

Melina went through a strange week recently where she had a major meltdown tantrum once a day for about five days in a row. These were full on, possessed-by-devils tantrums with all the stops pulled out - flailing, head banging, screaming, hitting. The only thing missing was the rotating head. Everyone I talked to assured me that this was great, that she was "working on something" and about to make some huge intellectual or physical breakthrough, like maybe learning to work differential equations or tightrope between skyscrapers. And then suddenly it stopped. In general, she has just been the sweetest little friendly thing ever since. I haven't figured out what it was that she was working on, but I half suspect I'll find an unfinished novel under her crib mattress the next time I look.

Nursemaid's elbow

Melina took her first trip to the Emergency Room on the day after Thanksgiving. We were on a walk with Jeff and my parents, and she was horsing around with Jeff, holding on to his arm and collapsing on the ground. She did this one too many times and twisted her forearm out of whack. It was a pretty unpleasant experience for us all. She couldn't, or wouldn't, move her forearm. After driving home to Portland from Monmouth (during which she napped, luckily), I called her doctor, who diagnosed the problem as "nursemaid's elbow." It's a common injury for the 2-5 set, sometimes caused by a parent (or nursemaid) yanking on a recalcitrant child's arm. The doctor described a maneuver for me to do (holding the arm at the elbow and rotating the hand), but all this did was cause more pain, so we ended up taking Melina to the E.R. around 7:00 p.m. Luckily, the hospital here has a really nice separate E.R. for children, so there were no scary bleeding people to traumatize her. Also, the doctor who treated her ended up being an old neighbor of ours with kids of his own who suffer from nursemaid's elbow. After five arm X-rays, Doctor Scott did a maneuver on Melina's arm - correctly this time - and it popped right back into place. Fifteen seconds later she said "Oh! I feel better now!" - And she's been fine ever since. I've studied up on it and how to fix it in case it happens again.

Excuses, excuses

Well, my parents, who I am convinced are just about the only people who read this blog other than occasionally Becky and Melinda, are getting on my case for not posting enough. The reasons are: a) busy at work, and feeling guilty about posting there; b) busy knitting in the evenings at home (obsessively trying to finish a red sweater for Melina); c) not wanting to complain any more about the terrible twos; d) general malaise. I'll try to do better!

Molting

The chickens are definitely molting now. There are big piles of wind-blown chicken feathers in the corner of the run. From what I can tell, the two Wyandottes, Martha and Abigail, are losing the most feathers. I can't tell if Dolley is molting or not. Actually, none of them look any different than normal, which is surprising considering how many feathers are piling up. I'm collecting the nicest ones to take to Melina's preschool, where they will use them for arts and crafts. What useful pets these are!

Oh, and one other thing. I've noticed that Dolley, the barred rock, has taken to sleeping on the roost instead of piling in the corner with the other two hens. I've heard that Wyandottes don't usually roost like most chickens; I guess it's true. I feel kind of sorry for Dolley, sitting there in the cold air away from her warm brethren. But I guess it's her choice. And she probably sleeps better there anyway.