–A science that deals with designing and arranging things so that people can use them easily and safely.
–The parts or qualities of something’s design that makes it easy to use.
Source: http://www.merriam-webster.com
It was after I’d had my third child at the ripe old age of 31 that a pediatrician told me only the young were meant to be parents. I laughed because I felt old already. In nine years I’d tallied up three children and two husbands. Who wouldn’t feel old after that?
I am reminded of that incident now that I can truly relate to what he was saying. Once you hit middle age, it’s no time to start having kids, or running after them on a full-time basis. Nature even made sure of that. I guess you could call it nature’s ergonomics.
This isn’t the first time I take over the care of a grandchild, nor is it the first time after RA made its presence known. But I can hardly remember my first granddaughter as an infant and toddler, and she’s not even five yet. All I can recall is the comforting warmth of her little body as I rocked her before her naps. Emotional ergonomics.
I think the main difference now, in caring for my second toddler grandchild, is that I’m not in my own home, where I have adapted things to compensate for my unpredictable aches and pains. Physical ergonomics.
After one full week of being in charge of her care during the better part of the day, my hands are complaining. Loudly. The challenge in this new environment is that I will have to adapt to it, not the other way around. Personal ergonomics.
I’m opting out of using the dishwasher, and instead washing the dishes by hand. The hot water is super soothing to my aching hands. Though some things will have to remain unwashed, at least by me, as my decreased grip does not allow me to open them. Also, the cooking pots and ceramic dishes are quite heavy and tax my hands, but I bear some responsibility for that as some were gifts from me!
Necessity is the mother of invention they say. Having a toddler insist on feeding herself guarantees mess on the floor. My broom at home is very light; the broom here is quite heavy. The answer? Carmen’s toy broom to the rescue and her toy hoe as my dust pan! She follows me around saying, “Hoe, hoe, hoe,” until I rinse out the hoe and give it back to her.
Her high chair is beautiful. An Amish work of art given to her by her grandfather. The only problem for me is that it is made of solid wood, therefore the tray is quite heavy and hurts my fingers when I lift it. There’s no answer to that, but I do miss the plastic tray that my other granddaughter had.
I have to say the worst part about being in this small town is having unreliable internet service. Music plays a big part of my day. It’s a stress reliever, an analgesic, and a muse sometimes. One day I wanted to run my Pandora Reggae station; it wouldn’t come in at all, though I tried countless times to start the streaming. Right when my frustration reached its peak there was a knock on the door. Two friendly gentlemen stood there. They handed me a pamphlet and said, “We just stopped by to give you this.”
Spiritual ergonomics?
Beating Rheumatoid Arthritis 