Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Morning Musings

Me: Hey, put this diaper in the bathroom trash for me. (yes he was in a 'sposie...)

BuggaBoo: The diaper has pee in it?

Me: It sure does, you peed in it!

BuggaBoo: There was pee in my body?

Me: Yep, but not anymore, because you peed it into the diaper.

BuggaBoo: And there is poop in my body.

Me: Probably.

BuggaBoo: And there are feelings in my body!

Me: Well, yes, but not in the same way as poop or pee...

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Milk For Thought

I don't have much time to post about my train-wreck of a life right now, so here's an interesting link about how bottle-feeding your newborn can make your body believe your baby died.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Word to the Wise

I've been making water kefir for about a month now. My grains have multiplied from two tablespoons to over forty in that time. I've tried to give them away but only two people have picked some up. I've been having the extra camp out in my fridge until I can figure out what to do with them.

In the meantime the ones I'm actively using to ferment are still multiplying. I make six cups a day and that's plenty for our family, especially since The Hubby doesn't usually drink it (he has a sensitive palate). So, what to do with the extra two tablespoons that grow every day?

I started eating them a few days ago. No biggie, right? I mean, I've been drinking nearly half a gallon of the stuff plus take a few capsules of probiotics every day. When I started drinking kefir I had a mild yeast die-off response of a horrible achy back and slightly loose bowel movements, but nothing since.I should be used to probiotics by now. I should be fine.

Friends, let me suggest to you if you decide to eat your extra kefir grains that you start s-l-o-w-l-y. If you don't you may have a, ah, slightly explosive situation. To put it more plainly I've been having some serious intestinal cramps and the accompanying diarrhea.

So in conclusion: Killing yeast is good, but do it wisely. And make more friends who want your extra kefir grains.

Speaking Up

I live in a pretty quiet neighborhood. We have some gang activity, usually just tagging and some light scuffles. Overall, however, I feel very safe where I live and have no qualms walking around by myself.

Yesterday was not so quiet. My neighbors were having a horrible fight. Their family consists of a mother, father, and beautiful two-year-old girl. The parents are about my age.

The mother was yelling over and over, "Why are you doing this to us?! Why are you DOING this to us?!" I instinctively froze and started eavesdropping, and so many memories and emotions started flooding through my body.

See, when I was younger my father was rather abusive, emotional more than physical. I remember the fear and anger and the wanting someone, ANYONE, to come rescue us. It's not like we were being timid about it. A few dear friends did come to our aid and would help diffuse the situation.

But usually not.

Usually my father would get into a dark mood and proceed to batter us down through words and actions. When we did make a stand it often ended with one of us physically hurt.

I'm going to pause in my story to make sure to everyone reading this that my dad is NOT like this anymore. He has learned to control his temper and let his funny, sweet, amazing side out. I really enjoy being around him now and feel comfortable when my children are alone with him. He has grown so much.

So I stood in our apartment parking lot, listening for a thump or slap or scream. And it seemed the universe was conspiring against me. Whenever I started to understand what was happening a noise would happen. Emergency sirens, dogs barking, BuggaBoo running up to me and asking to play. The most annoying was my other neighbor who was running his table saw in the front yard.

I eventually went over to him and asked him to stop for a while because I was afraid this woman or child was going to be hurt. His reply to me was, "Oh, yeah, I heard them fighting." And I feel this is the crux of the problem, how society handles things like this.

See, I feel that embarrassment will keep people from helping more than anything. Yes, there is fear of physical hurt. But I would argue that most people just don't want to get involved because it's embarrassing. What would you say? "Hi, I heard you guys fighting rather vigorously and I was afraid that someone may get hurt or die. Yeah, I know you think it's none of my business, but...*shrug shoulders*" I don't see many people doing this. I know because it hardly ever happened with my family.

I think this whole culture of ignoring others' abuse it deeply ingrained. Think about it. If every abuser knew that a loud, scary confrontation would mean active neighbor interest, don't you think they would think twice about being loud? I guess that would mean that the abuse could be driven to be done in secret, but hang with me for a second. Abusers know they can be loud because nobody will stop to help. They are saved from persecution because of others' embarrassment.

Don't worry, I'm human, I felt these same emotions. I was agonizing about it to The Hubby, trying to figure out what to do. "What if they're just having a loud fight?" I would say. "What if someone gets hurt?" he would respond.

Finally we walked over together and knocked on the door to help.

No one answered.

Luckily I saw my neighbor walking home with her daughter later that evening. I walked right up to her and asked if everything was alright. She said it was going to be, and that sometimes her husband/boyfriend (not sure which) was just mean sometimes. She said her daughter would be okay.

I told her that my dad was abusive growing up and I always wanted someone to stop by, so I wanted her to come to me if she needed to. She said she appreciated that. I offered to take her daughter whenever, and she looked relieved about it. She acknowledged that everyone heard the fight, and I said that was true, but nothing to be embarrassed about. She said, "But it is embarrassing," and I said, "That is true, but I don't judge you."

She seemed honestly happy, if a bit chagrined, at my approach. I'm glad I did it. I never thought that my abusive past might help someone else through their situation. I always thought that my past was meant to make me grow. It has, I have grown a lot, but perhaps this is bigger than me.

Please, if you hear a fight and you have any idea that it might get physical, stop by. Be honest. Yes, it's scary. Yes, be prepared in case you might get hurt. Call the police if you can't do it yourself. But do something, because to do nothing could result in someone being hurt or worse. Believe me, I've been there.

Friday, August 6, 2010

The Big Latch On

So here in Portland we had something called the Big Latch On. I participated today with BuggaBoo and Doozer so I wanted to share the really small picture. Enjoy!


Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Snack Tray Attack

Okay, I feel really lame for bringing this up since I haven't put together a snack tray in ages, but I love them and I want you love them, too.

I read about snack trays in "The Baby Book" by Dr. William Sears and his wife, Martha Sears, RN. I wanted to try them out since BuggaBoo likes to graze. I'm sure being a distracted toddler is one reason for snacking all day, but I strongly feel another is because BuggaBoo has a weak epiglottis. When he was a baby he spit up all the time. I am not joking. Our pediatrician was surprised that he even gained weight. I always fed him on demand, I know that's why he thrived.

My mother-in-law said all her babies had the same thing, and both my nephews from that side of the family had it as children. My one nephew who is ten still has episodes of vomiting, especially if he eats too quickly or has a carbonated drink. So I think grazing may be BuggaBoo's way of not overloading his stomach.

The basic principle of a snack tray is to offer a variety of finger foods in a balanced manner. Dipping sauces are encouraged since toddlers can't resist them. First of all I sat down and composed a list of toddler-friendly nutritious finger foods that were quick and cheap. When I started I used a muffin tin.



What you see here, left to right, is whole wheat spiral pasta, bagel with peanut butter, pear chunks, tortillas filled with hummus, homemade seitan, and steamed carrot sticks. Well, this was way too much food for my little guy. He also didn't get the concept at first, he kept coming to me and telling me he was hungry. I would direct him back to the tray telling him he could eat whatever he wanted whenever he felt like it.

The next day he caught on and was so very excited about the whole thing. I decided to scale down production to an ice cube tray so there wasn't too much food.



This one was pretzel sticks, dried apricots, tortilla spread with peanut butter and wheat germ before rolling up, steamed broccoli, cucumber chunks, olives, peaches, and steamed carrot sticks. The dip was homemade hummus. As you can see by the glimpse of BuggaBoo's face he was pleased with his snacks. The ice cube tray proved to be the right amount of food to feed him until dinner.

After that BuggaBoo put in orders for what snacks he wanted and hovered over the assembly. As soon as I set his tray down he pounced on it, and even offered me some of his food. Snack trays became a hit in our household.



Here we have bread with peanut butter, olives, celery sticks, leftover Field Roast, honey tangerines, dried apricots, sauteed tofu, garbanzo beans, and something so obviously delicious it didn't make it to the photo shoot.

On benefit to having a free-access snack tray is BuggaBoo has a better mood most the day. He still has a hard time articulating when he's hungry and I'm so bad about preparing food on a set schedule. I eat whenever I'm hungry and it's not always when he's hungry, but I forget that he'll get hungry before me. I know, bad mommy. By the time he's hungry his mood has deteriorated to a point of nuclear war and trying to make something for him during the meltdown is difficult. So a snack tray circumvents all that! Also, I love to share with him, there's something about eating food that is bite-sized.



Olives (BuggaBoo adores them), pear chunks, canned peaches, pretzel sticks, cooked pasta, zucchini sticks, and sauteed tofu. Dipping unknown, something creamy.

So in conclusion I want to start making these again. They're fun, easy to put together, and the rewards are, well, rewarding. And I sometimes find little treasures like these:


This is, of course, and animal cracker drowning in peanut butter-apple sauce dip. He was delicious.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Dust, Go To Sleep...







Doozer's first bath


Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.



BuggaBoo and Mommy, a few weeks before Doozer was born


Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.




Mommy and Doozer, a few weeks old


Oh, I've grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo



BuggaBoo, 2.5 years old


The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
But I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren't his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.



Mommy and Doozer, heading to a postpartum checkup

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.


BuggaBoo, having fun with Mommy's lipstick


- Ruth Hulbert Hamilton



Mommy, Daddy, BuggaBoo, and Doozer