Red McPatches

In our household we have three cats, one dog, 2.5 children - under 3 - and a second-hand couch I have no intention of replacing until the potential for extreme damage grows significantly less.

Before we had children, the beastly cats kept their scratching to the carpet we needed to replace anyway, and they've always stayed well away from my precious wingback chairs, so I paid their habits little attention. However, post-Monster-#1 the cats found another source for their clawed fury: the couch. The couch itself held up surprisingly well, and it took the cats several years to inflict real damage. Meanwhile, I learned the value of my hand-me-down couch, as I realized that, despite the light color, it hides toddler and pet dirt and grime shockingly well.

(See here the least of the damaged corners, and the second-worst of the damage.)

When Monster #2 started scooting in his walker the real problem (besides my occasional but fleeting embarrassment) surfaced: he found the (now giant) holes the cats made, and started eating the stuffing out of the couch. Oy. Obviously something now needed to be done, if only to keep the couch from killing my son. And that something wouldn't be a new couch to be destroyed.

So, I decided to patch things up. I've had some minor success with re-upholstery in the past, but I wasn't feeling up to covering the whole couch, so I resolved to hit the worst of the damage and leave it at that. The results, while not great, are at least satisfactory, and will keep the Little One from choking on fluff.

The job was relatively simple; I used red corduroy I had stashed with my sewing supplies, a curved upholstery needle, red thread, and a few light duty staples. Each corner took me 45 minutes to 1 hour to complete, and I recovered our (already read) throw pillows to match the same shade and tie it all together.


Of course, I'm certain the patches will quickly go the way of the couch, but it's a band aid that I'm capable of maintaining for awhile. It would be even better if I was capable of clipping cat #2's nails, but he hates anything that tries to touch him, so I have yet to catch the beast. Oh well. I do what I can, and for now I have a newly-patched couch and two cats with short nails.


And here are the culprits:


Mozart (An 18-pound cat in a small shoe box. Nice.)


Clutch, the one who won't let anyone hold him


Joplin, aka "The Miss"

Santa Love

I love Santa, but lately the jolly fat man has been catching a bum wrap.

Yesterday afternoon a (purposefully childless) friend posted a link to a mommy blog on Facebook, proclaiming that she thought the author "got it exactly right," and encouraged all her new-mommy friends to take a look. Now, I wouldn't consider myself a "new" mommy, but I value this friend's opinions and insights so I hopped over.

The post was composed by the mother of an 8-month-old little girl, lamenting the constant need to dodge Santa-pushers despite her daughter's young age. Parents avoiding Santa is nothing new; many parental units will decide to forgo the mythical elements of holidays for various reasons (everything from religious concerns to a belief in science and logic over all magic and myth), and I fully support the right to make that decision for one's own children.

Don't want all the holiday credit to go to a man in a red suit? Rock on - it's your holiday. Me? I like the magic and stories that figures like Santa inspire, so we hang our stockings with care and wait for the elf to slide down the chimney.


But that is all a bit of an aside. I reacted very emotionally to the original post (in part because pregnancy hormones make me very emotional), and the reason is this: the poster was lamenting the consumerism of the season and trying to stress the importance of the "birth of our savior." My frustration didn't come from the desire to emphasize one's religious beliefs as part of a family celebration - like Santa, I say go for whatever makes you happy - but a kind of hypocrisy that comes from such exclamations. A picking-and-choosing approach to holidays that marks some traditions as evil and others as perfectly acceptable, with little reasoning (that I see, at least).

"Santa as consumer Satan" image makes little to no sense to me. Want to fight consumerism? Do so all year round. Don't buy that sporty new mom-mobile SUV you've had your eye on. Limit yourself to store brands, and don't fall for new trends in electronics, clothing, etc. Donate to charities instead of giving gifts at holidays and birthdays. Why is Santa the only one getting a bum wrap? Blame corporations. Blame advertising. Blame your own American desire for new gadgets.

Want to support the magic of the season, but don't want to teach your child to be a little consumer? Maybe limit Santa to a couple treats in a stocking, or a single gift.

Let's keep Santa from being a scapegoat for our own insecurities.