Thursday, April 12, 2007
A Creature of Habitat
Jane is simply delighted to be back. She had a great time, and enjoyed all the attention from adoring relatives, but she was clearly overjoyed to be back in familiar surroundings. As soon as we arrived back home, she made a beeline for the dresser and came back with a pair of socks, begging us to put them on her hands (we packed only sandals, so she was a week without her socks). Clearly the glove obsession is still going strong.
She has recently begun to baby her toy animals, lining them all up in a row (in order of height!) sitting against the hearth. Or she will line them against the wall, face down (she still sleeps on her front), and kiss them ‘Nigh-night.’ We packed no toys for the trip, and yesterday she was simply thrilled to be back with all her beloved creatures. She runs around naming everything with delight. ‘Fridge!’ ‘Trash! Yucky, yucky!’ ‘High chair! Jane high chair!’
She has recently begun to baby her toy animals, lining them all up in a row (in order of height!) sitting against the hearth. Or she will line them against the wall, face down (she still sleeps on her front), and kiss them ‘Nigh-night.’ We packed no toys for the trip, and yesterday she was simply thrilled to be back with all her beloved creatures. She runs around naming everything with delight. ‘Fridge!’ ‘Trash! Yucky, yucky!’ ‘High chair! Jane high chair!’
Yo Ho Ho And All That
Back from the Caribbean we are, and it’s just as beautiful as it was when Michael and I were there on our honeymoon. Warm sunshine, low humidity, cool tropical breezes, lush tropical fruits, and plenty of family to take a girl or two whenever we wanted to slip off for dance lessons on the beach. Pictures will be forthcoming.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
In like a lion, out like a lamb
So pleased were we with the success of our Indian dinner that we called for an encore, only this time we were determined to go entirely all-out with the inclusion of a mango lassi. I didn’t expect to find cheap lamb stew meat marked down again, but I did expect to at least find lamb. Alas, there was none apparent in the specialty meats section, so I settled upon some ground veal.
I told Michael about the change in plans.
Me: But don’t you think that ground lamb will be much the same as lamb stew meat? After all, after hours in the crockpot, the lamb was pretty shredded anyway. And this is very young lamb, hence very tender.
Michael: Veal isn’t young lamb. It’s young calf.
Me: What! I thought it would be young and tender lamb!
Michael: It’s young and tender all right, but it’s beef. Young lamb is lamb. Old lamb is sheep.
Me: So basically I paid a lot of money for very fancy, very tender, very expensive ground beef.
Michael: This is going to keep you up all night, isn’t it?
Off I scuttled, therefore, to the nearest grocery store to buy some genuine lamb. ‘Boy,’ I told Michael when all was said and done, ‘do I feel sheepish.’
I told Michael about the change in plans.
Me: But don’t you think that ground lamb will be much the same as lamb stew meat? After all, after hours in the crockpot, the lamb was pretty shredded anyway. And this is very young lamb, hence very tender.
Michael: Veal isn’t young lamb. It’s young calf.
Me: What! I thought it would be young and tender lamb!
Michael: It’s young and tender all right, but it’s beef. Young lamb is lamb. Old lamb is sheep.
Me: So basically I paid a lot of money for very fancy, very tender, very expensive ground beef.
Michael: This is going to keep you up all night, isn’t it?
Off I scuttled, therefore, to the nearest grocery store to buy some genuine lamb. ‘Boy,’ I told Michael when all was said and done, ‘do I feel sheepish.’
Miss Rose’s Linguistics Lesson
Now today we are going to talk about a trendy little phrase that’s taken the colloquial mainstream by storm in recent years to express a sort of apology for one’s mistake: ‘My bad.’ As a gesture of accepting responsibility it’s not bad, and certainly it’s more polite to assume the blame in any way than to ignore the issue altogether. But is it entirely correct, grammatically speaking?
Ah. Let’s break it down into its two disparate parts, namely, the words my and bad. My is a possessive pronoun, implying ownership of or accountability for the object it modifies. So far so good. Bad is here used as the object of the sentence, which makes you think it is the main character, or in other words the thing being possessed. It could be something – anything – as long as it was indeed a thing, or in other words a noun. But alas, bad is not a noun; it is an adjective, meaning it can only describe a noun. An adjective is only a concept insofar as it describes a noun; it is not, in its own right, a real thing. Therefore you cannot own an adjective. You might just as well say ‘My green,’ or ‘My curious.’
This phrase always leaves us floundering in helpless suspense, wondering anxiously, ‘Your bad what? Yes, yes, but what is it you have that is bad?’
Ha. Can you tell we’ve been reading Lynne Truss recently?
Ah. Let’s break it down into its two disparate parts, namely, the words my and bad. My is a possessive pronoun, implying ownership of or accountability for the object it modifies. So far so good. Bad is here used as the object of the sentence, which makes you think it is the main character, or in other words the thing being possessed. It could be something – anything – as long as it was indeed a thing, or in other words a noun. But alas, bad is not a noun; it is an adjective, meaning it can only describe a noun. An adjective is only a concept insofar as it describes a noun; it is not, in its own right, a real thing. Therefore you cannot own an adjective. You might just as well say ‘My green,’ or ‘My curious.’
This phrase always leaves us floundering in helpless suspense, wondering anxiously, ‘Your bad what? Yes, yes, but what is it you have that is bad?’
Ha. Can you tell we’ve been reading Lynne Truss recently?
Words which, we have noticed, are not so commonly used anymore
A pity:
Oblige
Shall
Should (as in, ‘I should not have thought of calling at so late an hour.’)
Fancy (as in, ‘Fancy an ice cream? Me too! Let’s go!’)
Hasty
A relief:
Gardyloo
Oblige
Shall
Should (as in, ‘I should not have thought of calling at so late an hour.’)
Fancy (as in, ‘Fancy an ice cream? Me too! Let’s go!’)
Hasty
A relief:
Gardyloo
Hurrah, it worked!
Apparently Michael's laptop was the key. Fortunately I've been saving a few of my posts in Word against this eventual development. Unfortunately the keyboard is different and long-term access is sketchy. Fortunately we'll be getting a new home computer soon and the browser problem (for such it appears to be) will be solved.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Government efficiency strikes again
I am very much put out at the Department of State.
I realise that they have a lot on their hands, and that they didn't ask for the recent revisions to the passport law - Congress did - and that they are utterly swamped right now, but this takes the giddy biscuit, as Bertie would say.
We dragged ourselves out of the house with a two-day-old baby to get her passport photo taken and then spent about two hours at the passport agency ironing out the wrinkles on her application. At that time, we were promised the passport within six to eight weeks. We had exactly nine weeks to spare, so we chose not to waste the extra money on the expedited fee.
Twice now I've checked up on the status of the application. The first time it had been received. Now it has been forwarded to the processing agency in, of all places, NH, and the email reminded me that it takes up to ten weeks to process a passport now.
This makes me livid. We applied well before the crunch, and I know that they're busy and working overtime, but they need to process the applications in the right order, so that the people who were promised an eight-week turnaround will get it. If my (daughter's) passport is delayed because they're focusing all their efforts on the emergency passports of people who didn't plan ahead as well as I did (and they stand to rake in substantial fees from these ones, of course), well then!!!
I realise that they have a lot on their hands, and that they didn't ask for the recent revisions to the passport law - Congress did - and that they are utterly swamped right now, but this takes the giddy biscuit, as Bertie would say.
We dragged ourselves out of the house with a two-day-old baby to get her passport photo taken and then spent about two hours at the passport agency ironing out the wrinkles on her application. At that time, we were promised the passport within six to eight weeks. We had exactly nine weeks to spare, so we chose not to waste the extra money on the expedited fee.
Twice now I've checked up on the status of the application. The first time it had been received. Now it has been forwarded to the processing agency in, of all places, NH, and the email reminded me that it takes up to ten weeks to process a passport now.
This makes me livid. We applied well before the crunch, and I know that they're busy and working overtime, but they need to process the applications in the right order, so that the people who were promised an eight-week turnaround will get it. If my (daughter's) passport is delayed because they're focusing all their efforts on the emergency passports of people who didn't plan ahead as well as I did (and they stand to rake in substantial fees from these ones, of course), well then!!!
Friday, March 16, 2007
The big sister
Perhaps you can't tell, but her lips are pursed, because the finger puppets are kissing.
This girl loves shoes.
Did I mention that she is obsessed with shoes?
A bit of role-playing never hurt anyone.Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Monday, March 12, 2007
Jane-isms
Jane has recently become obsessed with playing hide-and-seek. She will put anything out of view and then query 'Where go? Where go?' with a finely accomplished look of astonishment. One time she pulled her sleeves down and then asked me, 'Where thumb? Where thumb?' And then she goes off into fits of giggles at her own cleverness.
*************************
Today when we were shopping, Jane was sitting in the front of the cart while I pushed it. Unless occupied with a cookie, she usually does not like to sit still, and sure enough, before long she was asking me 'Up! Up!' I told her not now, maybe later. After a moment she reached her arms out and said, 'Mama! Hug!' I could see where this was going, but it was so cute that I couldn't resist. And when I leaned forward, she put her arms around my neck and begged again, 'Up! Up!' Clever, that one.
*************************
The wallpaper in the bathroom is decorated with letters, and for the last few nights Michael has pointed out a few of them to Jane as he brushes her teeth. I thought nothing of this until a couple of days ago, when Jane was 'reading' her book, The Runaway Bunny. Suddenly she got very excited and started exclaiming, 'B! B!' Sure enough, she had spotted the B on the cover. She recognised the As too. We have taught her up to J, and only since then did I learn that we are supposed to start with lower case letters rather than capital letters. Oh, well. At this rate, she'll learn them both before long.
*************************
Today when we were shopping, Jane was sitting in the front of the cart while I pushed it. Unless occupied with a cookie, she usually does not like to sit still, and sure enough, before long she was asking me 'Up! Up!' I told her not now, maybe later. After a moment she reached her arms out and said, 'Mama! Hug!' I could see where this was going, but it was so cute that I couldn't resist. And when I leaned forward, she put her arms around my neck and begged again, 'Up! Up!' Clever, that one.
*************************
The wallpaper in the bathroom is decorated with letters, and for the last few nights Michael has pointed out a few of them to Jane as he brushes her teeth. I thought nothing of this until a couple of days ago, when Jane was 'reading' her book, The Runaway Bunny. Suddenly she got very excited and started exclaiming, 'B! B!' Sure enough, she had spotted the B on the cover. She recognised the As too. We have taught her up to J, and only since then did I learn that we are supposed to start with lower case letters rather than capital letters. Oh, well. At this rate, she'll learn them both before long.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Mid pleasures and palaces
I've been delighted to discover how very pleasant it is to stay at home. In the weeks since Ella's arrival I've felt happier and more content than ever, much to my relief, as I was afraid that cabin fever would strike. But it hasn't.
After Jane was born, I was so fearful of falling into postpartum depression that I made a point of getting out pretty much every day. She was small and portable, so it was no additional inconvenience to haul her along with me everywhere, and I strung my errands along most inefficiently to make sure I had an excuse to go somewhere. That was all well and good, but I knew that with the arrival of a second one my strategy wouldn't work so well. Taking into consideration a wiggly (and much heavier) toddler with a much more complicated car seat as well as the portable (but still requiring both hands) infant car seat, it seemed that it would almost be more trouble than it was worth to get out and about. That, combined with the fact that Michael takes the car for the carpool 1-2 times a week and I am certainly not about to strap the cars seats into the truck, means that we end up staying home several times a week. And I am thrilled to find that I just love these kinds of days.
It's very satisfying to settle the day's chores early on (and I've scaled back my expectations to a reasonable level, meaning that if I keep up on the dishes, laundry, and basic cleanliness we can let the rest go until the weekend) and spend a happy morning playing with Jane and Ella, the latter having just started smiling and the former already learning to read. I'm experimenting with meal plans to make kitchen time simpler and more Jane-interactive, so that's fun and exciting. And I am finally, finally catching up on sorting all our digital pics and ordering them online. Right now I am keeping current with the Ella pics and am caught up to Christmas '03 on the general folders. This a huge project that I should have tackled long before, but I am finding that breaking it down into manageable tasks makes all the difference. The great thing is that I'm placing these orders with various online promotions, offering anywhere from 10 to 50 free prints, which means that it's already broken down into bite-sized chores for me. Whenever I have five minutes I'll pick up where I left off, click through the pictures in the folder, and save the ones I want to print to a temporary folder in the desktop. Then whenever I get another freebie offer, I select the next 10-25-whatever prints from the folder and voila! Pictures arriving in the mail every few days, with very little effort on my part.
I was effusing to Michael the other day about how wonderful our lives are right now and how happy I feel ('Of course that's just the happy hormones from nursing but still!!'), and wondering whether that was a bad sign. Of course contentment is a good thing, but is it healthy for me to be feeling happier as my sphere shrinks? Culinary adventures are all very well, but I don't want the high point of my day to consist of a crock pot success. I should hope that feelings of accomplishment would stem from overcoming genuine challenges, not just from deflating my goals to an easily achievable level. Fortunately I am still able to converse with him rationally and sympathetically about issues at work, so I know I am not totally losing my connection with the outside world. Still one wonders.
After Jane was born, I was so fearful of falling into postpartum depression that I made a point of getting out pretty much every day. She was small and portable, so it was no additional inconvenience to haul her along with me everywhere, and I strung my errands along most inefficiently to make sure I had an excuse to go somewhere. That was all well and good, but I knew that with the arrival of a second one my strategy wouldn't work so well. Taking into consideration a wiggly (and much heavier) toddler with a much more complicated car seat as well as the portable (but still requiring both hands) infant car seat, it seemed that it would almost be more trouble than it was worth to get out and about. That, combined with the fact that Michael takes the car for the carpool 1-2 times a week and I am certainly not about to strap the cars seats into the truck, means that we end up staying home several times a week. And I am thrilled to find that I just love these kinds of days.
It's very satisfying to settle the day's chores early on (and I've scaled back my expectations to a reasonable level, meaning that if I keep up on the dishes, laundry, and basic cleanliness we can let the rest go until the weekend) and spend a happy morning playing with Jane and Ella, the latter having just started smiling and the former already learning to read. I'm experimenting with meal plans to make kitchen time simpler and more Jane-interactive, so that's fun and exciting. And I am finally, finally catching up on sorting all our digital pics and ordering them online. Right now I am keeping current with the Ella pics and am caught up to Christmas '03 on the general folders. This a huge project that I should have tackled long before, but I am finding that breaking it down into manageable tasks makes all the difference. The great thing is that I'm placing these orders with various online promotions, offering anywhere from 10 to 50 free prints, which means that it's already broken down into bite-sized chores for me. Whenever I have five minutes I'll pick up where I left off, click through the pictures in the folder, and save the ones I want to print to a temporary folder in the desktop. Then whenever I get another freebie offer, I select the next 10-25-whatever prints from the folder and voila! Pictures arriving in the mail every few days, with very little effort on my part.
I was effusing to Michael the other day about how wonderful our lives are right now and how happy I feel ('Of course that's just the happy hormones from nursing but still!!'), and wondering whether that was a bad sign. Of course contentment is a good thing, but is it healthy for me to be feeling happier as my sphere shrinks? Culinary adventures are all very well, but I don't want the high point of my day to consist of a crock pot success. I should hope that feelings of accomplishment would stem from overcoming genuine challenges, not just from deflating my goals to an easily achievable level. Fortunately I am still able to converse with him rationally and sympathetically about issues at work, so I know I am not totally losing my connection with the outside world. Still one wonders.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Monday, March 05, 2007
Yes, we have no bananas
The local Kroger store (about which I have raved before) often marks down ripe bananas. Since these bananas are very cheap, and since they are usually marked down at exactly the stage of ripeness that I like (just starting to turn brown and spotted, meaning the flesh will be perfect and sweet), I usually buy these up in droves whenever I see them. They stay at the perfect stage of ripeness for at least two or three days, by which time we will have eaten them up, either straight, in smoothies, or sliced over chocolate ice cream. The occasional banana that escapes us pops into the freezer for hibernation until next time we make banana bread.
This weekend I bought a bundle of bananas and I discovered, upon reaching home, that one of the bananas was bruised and blackening. Knowing that its useful lifespan would be short, I started to peel it to make a smoothie, only to discover that the half that had been bruised was black and slimy. I showed this to Michael in disgust before throwing it in the trash and grabbing another banana with which to make a smoothie. When Michael saw me drinking the smoothie, he made some comment on my inability to let things go to waste.
Me: No, I threw away that banana. Even I wouldn't eat that!
(Michael gives me a significant look.)
Me: Okay, even I wouldn't feed that to Jane!
Michael: Ah, that's more like it.
This weekend I bought a bundle of bananas and I discovered, upon reaching home, that one of the bananas was bruised and blackening. Knowing that its useful lifespan would be short, I started to peel it to make a smoothie, only to discover that the half that had been bruised was black and slimy. I showed this to Michael in disgust before throwing it in the trash and grabbing another banana with which to make a smoothie. When Michael saw me drinking the smoothie, he made some comment on my inability to let things go to waste.
Me: No, I threw away that banana. Even I wouldn't eat that!
(Michael gives me a significant look.)
Me: Okay, even I wouldn't feed that to Jane!
Michael: Ah, that's more like it.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
A continual dropping
Yesterday was possibly the most miserable day of mothering yet, with the obvious exception of the day of the stomach flu. (Speaking of which, did you know that what is commonly called the flu - the stomach flu - is not actually influenza? After our last bout I vowed to take the flu shot every year henceforward, until I learned that the annual flu shots are not applicable to it. As one friend put it, 'Influenza can make you dead. The stomach flu just makes you wish you were dead.')
Poor little Jane has been fighting a cold for several days, and while sniffly and hoarse for some time, she remained cheerful in spite of it all. But yesterday the floodgates opened; I litereally spent my whole morning wiping her nose. I had no idea one little body could produce that much discharge. Twice I tried the nasal aspirator on her, thinking that if I could suck out as much as possible it might give me a few moments' respite, but no such luck; she was dripping again immediately. We went through so many tissues and her little nose got sore from the constant wiping, of course, making her even fussier than the misery from the congestion had left her, and of course the more the crying, the more the dripping. It was physically exhausting to be reaching for the tissues every minute, but it was far more emotionally draining to deal with the tears and try to cheer her up, sing to her, and distract her from the discomfort.
Fortunately she cleared up a bit by the afternoon, so I took her to a friend's house for an hour while I kept an appointment downtown, participating in a market research study for big bucks. It was very exciting, but I can't say any more about it because I signed a paper agreeing not to discuss the details until the models of the prototypes I tested are already on the market.
Today Jane is much better, and thoroughly back to her normal happy self, complete with hat and glove obsession.
Poor little Jane has been fighting a cold for several days, and while sniffly and hoarse for some time, she remained cheerful in spite of it all. But yesterday the floodgates opened; I litereally spent my whole morning wiping her nose. I had no idea one little body could produce that much discharge. Twice I tried the nasal aspirator on her, thinking that if I could suck out as much as possible it might give me a few moments' respite, but no such luck; she was dripping again immediately. We went through so many tissues and her little nose got sore from the constant wiping, of course, making her even fussier than the misery from the congestion had left her, and of course the more the crying, the more the dripping. It was physically exhausting to be reaching for the tissues every minute, but it was far more emotionally draining to deal with the tears and try to cheer her up, sing to her, and distract her from the discomfort.
Fortunately she cleared up a bit by the afternoon, so I took her to a friend's house for an hour while I kept an appointment downtown, participating in a market research study for big bucks. It was very exciting, but I can't say any more about it because I signed a paper agreeing not to discuss the details until the models of the prototypes I tested are already on the market.
Today Jane is much better, and thoroughly back to her normal happy self, complete with hat and glove obsession.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Why...
...do the cultured voices on the classical music stations always refer to the composer as Dvor-CHAK? His name is very clearly spelled Dvor-AK. Do Czech words just automatically insert random ch sounds?
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Overheard during a movie
Me: How many movies can you think of where the title of the movie is the main character's name? I can think of three: Erin Brokovich, Billy Eliott, and Forrest Gump.
Michael: Spartacus.
Me: That doesn't count! He had only one name!
Michael: All right then, Ben-Hur. Or Henry V.
Michael: Spartacus.
Me: That doesn't count! He had only one name!
Michael: All right then, Ben-Hur. Or Henry V.
Wow
It just occurred to me that when Ella reaches her golden birthday (29 on the 29th) she will be older than I am now.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Happy Birthday Oregon!
The state song of Oregon - also known as the Beaver State - is Oregon, My Oregon. The official state drink is milk.
Virginia's state song is Carry Me Back To Old Virginia. The state nickname is Old Dominion State and the state dance is the Virginia Reel.
Georgia is known as the Peach State and the state song is Georgia On My Mind.
And that's about all I've learned about the places I've lived.
******************************************
Don't buy me flowers
The effect will fall flat;
Flowers will die in a couple of hours~
What lame allegory is that?
Virginia's state song is Carry Me Back To Old Virginia. The state nickname is Old Dominion State and the state dance is the Virginia Reel.
Georgia is known as the Peach State and the state song is Georgia On My Mind.
And that's about all I've learned about the places I've lived.
******************************************
Don't buy me flowers
The effect will fall flat;
Flowers will die in a couple of hours~
What lame allegory is that?
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Pregnancy brain and beyond
At least I've stopped feeling so scatter-brained and forgetful, but the post-partum hormones are in full swing, and now I remember all those teary nights and days after Jane came. It wasn't the sleepless nights (because there weren't so many of those) but just the facts of the matter: after having a baby, apparently I need to cry at least once a day or so.
The other day we came home from an event at church, where I had nursed Ella, then set her in her carseat (which is still light enough to carry her around in) and gone off to collect Jane. When we got home, I lifted the blanket to discover that I hadn't remembered to fasten her in before snapping the carseat into the base. Thoughts of what might have happened had we gotten into a wreck, and the realisation of how much I love this little person despite hardly even knowing her, produced an immediate display of waterworks. Likewise pretty much every movie we've watched in the past two weeks (which is a lot, since I had just signed up for a Blockbuster free trial before Ella came), even if it wasn't supposed to be a sad one.
On the upside, I am wearing jeans again, which is a huge boost to morale, never mind the fact that they aren't technically my pre-pregnancy jeans and were too big before. They fit perfectly now, which tricks me into feeling really good.
I still haven't printed photos from Jane's birth and onward (yes, that means we have thousands of digital pics stuck on our computer) aside from the random one I took to Walmart and printed to frame and give away as a gift. However, I responded to an offer for 40 free prints, and today received back the first ones of Ella. At the rate we are taking pictures of this child, I can probably keep up with printing all the photos of her for free, since my experience is that Snapfish and all the other competitors offer 25 free prints quite frequently (less shipping, of course). I am trying to be glad that I am printing photos at all, and not feel guilty that we still haven't printed off/started an album for Jane.
I am now one and a half weeks into parenting two children solo (meaning since Michael went back to work during the day) and it seems safe to announce that it's far easier than I thought. Jane is adjusting nicely, after a few days of clinginess, and aside from wanting to climb into my lap whenever it is otherwise occupied, seems to be happily independent.
When Jane naps, I put Ella down and try to sleep myself. Everything else that used to be my free time stuff is now worked around Jane. If Ella is awake, we play with her. If she is asleep, we set her within sight in the bouncy seat and do housework. I am pleasantly surprised to see how nicely the house runs; so far we aren't swamped with mountains of laundry or dishes and the floor looks pretty clean.
I think I must have held Jane pretty much all the time when she was a baby. I remember taking naps, but I also remember just sitting on the couch and looking at her as she slept, and of course I held her whenever she was awake too. I know this because we have a new saying around here, which must only come from setting the baby down now and then: 'Don't sit on the baby!' If one of us leaves the room to change Jane or something, and the other one has to go off and do something, we find that leaving a baby on the couch swaddled in blankets requires an alert, because our couches are already littered with blankets, boppies, and spit rags. Ella blends right in.
The other day we came home from an event at church, where I had nursed Ella, then set her in her carseat (which is still light enough to carry her around in) and gone off to collect Jane. When we got home, I lifted the blanket to discover that I hadn't remembered to fasten her in before snapping the carseat into the base. Thoughts of what might have happened had we gotten into a wreck, and the realisation of how much I love this little person despite hardly even knowing her, produced an immediate display of waterworks. Likewise pretty much every movie we've watched in the past two weeks (which is a lot, since I had just signed up for a Blockbuster free trial before Ella came), even if it wasn't supposed to be a sad one.
On the upside, I am wearing jeans again, which is a huge boost to morale, never mind the fact that they aren't technically my pre-pregnancy jeans and were too big before. They fit perfectly now, which tricks me into feeling really good.
I still haven't printed photos from Jane's birth and onward (yes, that means we have thousands of digital pics stuck on our computer) aside from the random one I took to Walmart and printed to frame and give away as a gift. However, I responded to an offer for 40 free prints, and today received back the first ones of Ella. At the rate we are taking pictures of this child, I can probably keep up with printing all the photos of her for free, since my experience is that Snapfish and all the other competitors offer 25 free prints quite frequently (less shipping, of course). I am trying to be glad that I am printing photos at all, and not feel guilty that we still haven't printed off/started an album for Jane.
I am now one and a half weeks into parenting two children solo (meaning since Michael went back to work during the day) and it seems safe to announce that it's far easier than I thought. Jane is adjusting nicely, after a few days of clinginess, and aside from wanting to climb into my lap whenever it is otherwise occupied, seems to be happily independent.
When Jane naps, I put Ella down and try to sleep myself. Everything else that used to be my free time stuff is now worked around Jane. If Ella is awake, we play with her. If she is asleep, we set her within sight in the bouncy seat and do housework. I am pleasantly surprised to see how nicely the house runs; so far we aren't swamped with mountains of laundry or dishes and the floor looks pretty clean.
I think I must have held Jane pretty much all the time when she was a baby. I remember taking naps, but I also remember just sitting on the couch and looking at her as she slept, and of course I held her whenever she was awake too. I know this because we have a new saying around here, which must only come from setting the baby down now and then: 'Don't sit on the baby!' If one of us leaves the room to change Jane or something, and the other one has to go off and do something, we find that leaving a baby on the couch swaddled in blankets requires an alert, because our couches are already littered with blankets, boppies, and spit rags. Ella blends right in.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Overheard at the changing table
Michael: Hey!
(I wander in to find him throwing away a fresh diaper.)
Michael: That's the third time she's done that to me! Right after I take the old diaper off, too.
Me: She never does that to me. (giggle) Maybe she's embarrassed.
Michael: Yes, I'm sure that's it. You'd better change her from now on.
(I wander in to find him throwing away a fresh diaper.)
Michael: That's the third time she's done that to me! Right after I take the old diaper off, too.
Me: She never does that to me. (giggle) Maybe she's embarrassed.
Michael: Yes, I'm sure that's it. You'd better change her from now on.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Two are better than one
I love having two little girls. It is just what I wanted. Jane couldn't be cuter, and Ella couldn't be a more docile, sweet-tempered, bright-eyed little baby.
Things are evening out nicely after a full but wonderful first week. Michael was able to take last week off work, and it was so nice to have him here as we adjusted to life with a new baby again. It wasn't quite as blissful, idyllic, and restful a time as I had hoped due to troublesome things like pediatrician's visits that ran two hours late (because of our early discharge we had to take Ella in the next day for her PKU) and passport agencies that required paperwork we did not have, but all was well in the end. We had a pleasant weekend with my parents visiting, and I was SO glad that they could pay Jane the attention she merits. We even went to a Super Bowl party last night, and it was grand to get out and about and show my precious baby off. I love Super Bowl parties, because they require so little of me; I don't care enough about the game to pay attention to it, freeing me to socialise with others similarly inclined, and there's always plenty of good food to go around.
A few remarks follow, because I likely won't have time to work them into individual posts.
On the topic of sleep, I quote Tommy Hambledon's request to the hotel clerk after half a night of unexpected visitors and interruptions: 'I am going to my room now, and on no account disturb me. If that part of the hotel in which my room is located should catch fire, then you may wake me, but not otherwise.'
On the topic of names: Do not fear. We have absolutely no intention of naming a daughter of ours Lydia, ever.
On the topic of bouncing back: Being up and about is a good thing! If you see a new mother out and about, you should compliment her (if she looks nice) and praise her beautiful child, not scold her for choosing not to remain in confinement for six weeks. Note to well-meaning ladies of a certain age: The days when you stay in the hospital for two weeks are long gone. (Hospitals don't pamper young mothers they way they used to, anyway. Other than as a means to get free food, it's not so fabulous being in the hospital, what with nurses coming in to check your blood pressure every two hours and whatnot.) It is not dangerous to take a young baby out into society, as long as you are careful about who touches/breathes on her. It may have been more risky when all babies were fed formula, but if a baby is nursed, she will have her mother's immune system to defend her. (Try hacking into MY immune system when my baby's health is at stake!)
On the topic of weightlessness: I LOVE being able to sleep on my back, front, and roll over without flopping an immense belly around! I LOVE the sensation of moon gravity! I LOVE being able to squeeze past people in tight spaces again! But WHERE did this immense appetite come from? Ella doesn't weigh substantially more than she did a week and a half ago, after all!
Things are evening out nicely after a full but wonderful first week. Michael was able to take last week off work, and it was so nice to have him here as we adjusted to life with a new baby again. It wasn't quite as blissful, idyllic, and restful a time as I had hoped due to troublesome things like pediatrician's visits that ran two hours late (because of our early discharge we had to take Ella in the next day for her PKU) and passport agencies that required paperwork we did not have, but all was well in the end. We had a pleasant weekend with my parents visiting, and I was SO glad that they could pay Jane the attention she merits. We even went to a Super Bowl party last night, and it was grand to get out and about and show my precious baby off. I love Super Bowl parties, because they require so little of me; I don't care enough about the game to pay attention to it, freeing me to socialise with others similarly inclined, and there's always plenty of good food to go around.
A few remarks follow, because I likely won't have time to work them into individual posts.
On the topic of sleep, I quote Tommy Hambledon's request to the hotel clerk after half a night of unexpected visitors and interruptions: 'I am going to my room now, and on no account disturb me. If that part of the hotel in which my room is located should catch fire, then you may wake me, but not otherwise.'
On the topic of names: Do not fear. We have absolutely no intention of naming a daughter of ours Lydia, ever.
On the topic of bouncing back: Being up and about is a good thing! If you see a new mother out and about, you should compliment her (if she looks nice) and praise her beautiful child, not scold her for choosing not to remain in confinement for six weeks. Note to well-meaning ladies of a certain age: The days when you stay in the hospital for two weeks are long gone. (Hospitals don't pamper young mothers they way they used to, anyway. Other than as a means to get free food, it's not so fabulous being in the hospital, what with nurses coming in to check your blood pressure every two hours and whatnot.) It is not dangerous to take a young baby out into society, as long as you are careful about who touches/breathes on her. It may have been more risky when all babies were fed formula, but if a baby is nursed, she will have her mother's immune system to defend her. (Try hacking into MY immune system when my baby's health is at stake!)
On the topic of weightlessness: I LOVE being able to sleep on my back, front, and roll over without flopping an immense belly around! I LOVE the sensation of moon gravity! I LOVE being able to squeeze past people in tight spaces again! But WHERE did this immense appetite come from? Ella doesn't weigh substantially more than she did a week and a half ago, after all!
Friday, February 02, 2007
Carpe Noctem
I think I've found my new window of opportunity for blogging. Unfortunately it means I have to type with one hand and without contacts. So my posts will be shorter than ever.
Oh, well. I don't really want to blog anyway. I want to gaze at my baby.
Oh, well. I don't really want to blog anyway. I want to gaze at my baby.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Monday's Child
Introducing Elizabeth Rose Focht
Born January 29th, 2007, at 12:42 AM
7 lbs. 4 oz. 19.5 inches long
Very fair of face indeed
Friday, January 26, 2007
Quality v. quantity
Leaving aside the issue of blog posts (according to my new resolve to post more haphazardly if it means actually posting what's on my mind instead of letting the little gems slip into oblivion because I never got around to fleshing them out thoroughly enough), I would have thought I fell decidedly into the quality camp, preferring the few worthwhile whatevers to the masses of cheap shoddy whatevers. But I fell to mulling over this a few days ago, and decided that there are some categories where it actually makes sense - for me - to go for the cheap short-term quick fix. I came up with a few examples of each:
Quality - Jewelry. This is one where, for me, it makes sense to invest in the quality and have only a few very nice pieces. I started building my jewelry wardrobe over ten years ago, and I still wear the gold hoops I got when I was sixteen. A few classic pieces (gold hoops, garnet studs, sapphire studs, opal studs, black pearls, and white pearls) pretty much cover every look I need, and the lack of choices makes accessorizing so much easier. Not allowing my jewelry box to become cluttered with costume jewelry saves space, saves time, and perhaps helps me avoid problems with allergic reactions to cheap knock-off metals. Plus I don't ever have to buy new jewelry, unless I decide someday that I like diamonds, after all. (I'm thinking this might happen after I turn forty.)
Quantity - Sunglasses. This is one where I'll gladly buy cheap sunglasses from Wal-mart or even the Dollar Store, even if it means replacing them every year or whenever they break. I am far too hard on my sunglasses to invest in a really expensive pair; one might argue that a better quality pair would last longer and thus be a better investment, but no pair can resist getting scratched when tossed into the wrong pocket in my purse or avoid serious damage when accidentally sat upon. Plus, do I really want to be wearing the same pair of sunglasses for the next ten years? Having cheap sunglasses that will routinely break gives me a chance to update my look every summer.
Quantity - Hair accessories. This is probably rather a moot point, since the days of mother-of-pearl hairclasps and real pearl combs are long gone and pretty much everything is plastic, wood, or metal these days. But I'm sure there are still sliding scales of quality, and I'm happy to shop at the bottom rung of the ladder, with the cheap plastic barrettes and hair claws whose springs wear out and snap off within a year or so. Once again, do I really want to be putting the same things in my hair for the next ten years?
There were more, but I can't think of them right off, and rather than mull and ponder and strain to recollect I shall simply post, walk downstairs, brew myself a cup of tea, and try to take a nap. Happy Friday!
Quality - Jewelry. This is one where, for me, it makes sense to invest in the quality and have only a few very nice pieces. I started building my jewelry wardrobe over ten years ago, and I still wear the gold hoops I got when I was sixteen. A few classic pieces (gold hoops, garnet studs, sapphire studs, opal studs, black pearls, and white pearls) pretty much cover every look I need, and the lack of choices makes accessorizing so much easier. Not allowing my jewelry box to become cluttered with costume jewelry saves space, saves time, and perhaps helps me avoid problems with allergic reactions to cheap knock-off metals. Plus I don't ever have to buy new jewelry, unless I decide someday that I like diamonds, after all. (I'm thinking this might happen after I turn forty.)
Quantity - Sunglasses. This is one where I'll gladly buy cheap sunglasses from Wal-mart or even the Dollar Store, even if it means replacing them every year or whenever they break. I am far too hard on my sunglasses to invest in a really expensive pair; one might argue that a better quality pair would last longer and thus be a better investment, but no pair can resist getting scratched when tossed into the wrong pocket in my purse or avoid serious damage when accidentally sat upon. Plus, do I really want to be wearing the same pair of sunglasses for the next ten years? Having cheap sunglasses that will routinely break gives me a chance to update my look every summer.
Quantity - Hair accessories. This is probably rather a moot point, since the days of mother-of-pearl hairclasps and real pearl combs are long gone and pretty much everything is plastic, wood, or metal these days. But I'm sure there are still sliding scales of quality, and I'm happy to shop at the bottom rung of the ladder, with the cheap plastic barrettes and hair claws whose springs wear out and snap off within a year or so. Once again, do I really want to be putting the same things in my hair for the next ten years?
There were more, but I can't think of them right off, and rather than mull and ponder and strain to recollect I shall simply post, walk downstairs, brew myself a cup of tea, and try to take a nap. Happy Friday!
Windows of opportunity
Because:
1) Blogspot has been so unpredictable lately;
2) Very soon I will run out of spare time;
and, most of all,
3) When I mull over a post idea too long then it must be all the more eloquent to justify the time spent pondering it, at which point it will be too long for me to ever sit down and do it justice, so I generally end up not posting on the topic at all -
Therefore:
I will seize the day, not knock myself out to make deep philosophical posts as polished as possible, and post quickly and randomly if I have an idea in conjunction with a minute to spare. That is how I will balance blogging with my new season of life, quotha.
1) Blogspot has been so unpredictable lately;
2) Very soon I will run out of spare time;
and, most of all,
3) When I mull over a post idea too long then it must be all the more eloquent to justify the time spent pondering it, at which point it will be too long for me to ever sit down and do it justice, so I generally end up not posting on the topic at all -
Therefore:
I will seize the day, not knock myself out to make deep philosophical posts as polished as possible, and post quickly and randomly if I have an idea in conjunction with a minute to spare. That is how I will balance blogging with my new season of life, quotha.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Belated birthdays and blasted blogspots
I wanted to say something to the effect that New Blogger has fallen decidedly out of my favour since posting my farewell speech twice and keeping me out of logging in ever since I switched. But that would be to imply that I ever had a good opinion of it to begin with, which was its own task to win and prove. Now I am so desperate to get this post published before Blogger's temperamental window of bonhomie disappears that I cannot invest the proper time to invent scathing metaphors for how deeply into the void of my negative opinion it has sunk.
I was distressed not to be able to post a tribute to my beloved yesterday, who celebrated yet another revolution around the sun. Happy birthday, Michael!
And I was very concerned that the apparent silence would be inferred as a tacit acknowledgement of Baby's arrival. Not so. We are all here; do thyself-a no harm. But we will keep you posted. (Assuming further sunny spells on Blogger's part.) Meanwhile I'm trying to write them huffy emails explaining my dilemma and begging them to let me go back to the Old Blogger, which is difficult to do as they have an answer for everything else and assume that their answers cover all categories, thus sparing them from receiving any emails from real consumers. What can I say? It's not like I pay them for it, anyway.
I was distressed not to be able to post a tribute to my beloved yesterday, who celebrated yet another revolution around the sun. Happy birthday, Michael!
And I was very concerned that the apparent silence would be inferred as a tacit acknowledgement of Baby's arrival. Not so. We are all here; do thyself-a no harm. But we will keep you posted. (Assuming further sunny spells on Blogger's part.) Meanwhile I'm trying to write them huffy emails explaining my dilemma and begging them to let me go back to the Old Blogger, which is difficult to do as they have an answer for everything else and assume that their answers cover all categories, thus sparing them from receiving any emails from real consumers. What can I say? It's not like I pay them for it, anyway.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
A tearful farewell...just in case...
I have come to a fateful decision. I am going to switch over to the new Blogger.
For weeks they've been hounding me to do it, every time I sign in suggesting how much easier my life would be if only I'd capitulate and take advantage of all the new features (who needs new features, anyway? It took me long enough to figure out how to post pictures on the old system!) and half the time switching the locations of the old and new account sign-ins so that I'd almost sign up before I knew what I was doing. Despite the reassurances that nothing is lost, that all the posts and comments carry over, that the new Blogger is SO much better and easier, I resisted. We don't change, we badgers.
But now I must get the new account if I'm to maintain my access to Bookfest, which has already gone modern. So I go with heavy heart to make the switch. If all goes well then you may not notice any change at all, and all this angst will have been for naught. But I cannot repress a sigh and a feeling of doom at the thought. So, just in case, farewell to all. If it crashes I probably won't have the heart to start it all up again, not to mention finding a new name and address and all, at least not for weeks and weeks, by which time Baby's arrival will be old news. Tootle-pip and all that.
For weeks they've been hounding me to do it, every time I sign in suggesting how much easier my life would be if only I'd capitulate and take advantage of all the new features (who needs new features, anyway? It took me long enough to figure out how to post pictures on the old system!) and half the time switching the locations of the old and new account sign-ins so that I'd almost sign up before I knew what I was doing. Despite the reassurances that nothing is lost, that all the posts and comments carry over, that the new Blogger is SO much better and easier, I resisted. We don't change, we badgers.
But now I must get the new account if I'm to maintain my access to Bookfest, which has already gone modern. So I go with heavy heart to make the switch. If all goes well then you may not notice any change at all, and all this angst will have been for naught. But I cannot repress a sigh and a feeling of doom at the thought. So, just in case, farewell to all. If it crashes I probably won't have the heart to start it all up again, not to mention finding a new name and address and all, at least not for weeks and weeks, by which time Baby's arrival will be old news. Tootle-pip and all that.
A tearful farewell...just in case...
I have come to a fateful decision. I am going to switch over to the new Blogger.
For weeks they've been hounding me to do it, every time I sign in suggesting how much easier my life would be if only I'd capitulate and take advantage of all the new features (who needs new features, anyway? It took me long enough to figure out how to post pictures on the old system!) and half the time switching the locations of the old and new account sign-ins so that I'd almost sign up before I knew what I was doing. Despite the reassurances that nothing is lost, that all the posts and comments carry over, that the new Blogger is SO much better and easier, I resisted. We don't change, we badgers.
But now I must get the new account if I'm to maintain my access to Bookfest, which has already gone modern. So I go with heavy heart to make the switch. If all goes well then you may not notice any change at all, and all this angst will have been for naught. But I cannot repress a sigh and a feeling of doom at the thought. So, just in case, farewell to all. If it crashes I probably won't have the heart to start it all up again, not to mention finding a new name and address and all, at least not for weeks and weeks, by which time Baby's arrival will be old news. Tootle-pip and all that.
For weeks they've been hounding me to do it, every time I sign in suggesting how much easier my life would be if only I'd capitulate and take advantage of all the new features (who needs new features, anyway? It took me long enough to figure out how to post pictures on the old system!) and half the time switching the locations of the old and new account sign-ins so that I'd almost sign up before I knew what I was doing. Despite the reassurances that nothing is lost, that all the posts and comments carry over, that the new Blogger is SO much better and easier, I resisted. We don't change, we badgers.
But now I must get the new account if I'm to maintain my access to Bookfest, which has already gone modern. So I go with heavy heart to make the switch. If all goes well then you may not notice any change at all, and all this angst will have been for naught. But I cannot repress a sigh and a feeling of doom at the thought. So, just in case, farewell to all. If it crashes I probably won't have the heart to start it all up again, not to mention finding a new name and address and all, at least not for weeks and weeks, by which time Baby's arrival will be old news. Tootle-pip and all that.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Scavenger hunts are not only fun, they are PRACTICAL!
Who would pack a hospital bag and forget to include a hairbrush? Well, until ten minutes ago, that was me. After spending a good hour wracking my brains trying to recall anything, anything at all, that I'd read about hairbrushes in the past few weeks, it dawned on me that I hadn't packed one for the hospital! Thank you, Darren and Sara, for the timely reminder. Now Baby can come anytime!
Fancy car
Have you ever wanted to own a really, really fancy car? I mean, I'm talking about the fanciest car in the world here, like a Ferrari or a Rolls-Royce! A very expensive kind, that turns heads everywhere it goes, runs up incredibly expensive insurance premiums, is so sporty that it gets terrible gas mileage, and is in constant danger of being vandalised?
Neither have I. But I am getting pretty desperate over at the scavenger hunt.
Neither have I. But I am getting pretty desperate over at the scavenger hunt.
Scavenger hunt!
You can read the complete rules here. (And, now that I've submitted my entry, you can play too!)
* A Shoe
From Baby Cheapskate:
I think we've outgrown Robeez (okay, Robeez knock offs, I'm cheap). I can accept that my wee one now needs real shoes (sniff!). What I can't accept is how much toddler shoes cost! I admit, I'm a shoe person; I notice shoes. I'm always commenting on the other kids' shoes at the playground. I love the look of those trendy Vincent shoes, sure, but forty bucks (on sale) for something my kid's gonna outgrow long before the shoe is worn out? Come on!
* A Tooth
From The Duchy Of Burgundy Carrots:
Look at the pictures and you will see lots of teeth!
* An Odd Name
From Doug's Blog:
The Christian Boys’ & Men’s Titanic Society Eleventh Anniversary Banquet
(I really wanted to post a link to his family picture, where you could see children with such names as Justice and Jubilee. But I couldn't find such a link quickly enough without using search tools. Oh, well. This is a mouthful of a name for an event, let alone a society.)
* A Car (fancier the better)
From LinkTheValiant:
I'd always wondered whether the stereotypes of Corvette owners were accurate, and I've received confirmation today. Coming home, I was behind a Corvette at a stoplight. He was waiting with the engine revved slightly above midrange. As soon as the light changed, he was off. I turned the corner in my usual way, and saw that the guy had accelerated to 55 in a 35 zone. Not a quarter of a mile farther on, he pulls off and turns in to a school of all places. . . It's no wonder that, aside from theft, insurance rates are so high for Corvettes.
* A Frightful Dilemma
From Not Alone:
Seriously folks -- I have not, nor do I intend to, change the ability for everyone to leave comments. I'd rather hear honest, thoughtful conversation. But I would ask for a bit of courtesy in return...If you cannot contain yourselves to appropriate comments, then I will be forced to moderate comments (which I do NOT want to do-- but I'm feeling pressed).
* A Discussion of Childbirth
From Focht Tales:
The only thing about the Jolie-Pitt baby hoopla that interested me enough to irritate me was the statement by their apparently famous and accomplished doctor (so hand-picked that they flew him all the way to Africa to deliver their child), something along the lines of: 'The baby was delivered by a planned cesarean due to a breech presentation.'
* A Theological Discussion/Debate
From Kevin & Amy's World:
Frankly, I’m disturbed at the hoopla surrounding the Pope’s passing. If the he were a true follower of Christ, he would not want Catholics to make such a big deal over him. After all, he’s a mere mortal. Or did he claim to be more than that?
* A Funny Line, Joke, or Short Post
From LinkTheValiant's Site:
Little brothers can be hilarious. Case in point, on the way home from work yesterday:
Leah, in backseat: "Thomas, can you get that bug there for me?"
Thomas gets the bug.
Leah: "Okay, thank you, can you get rid of it?"
Thomas reaches for the door.
Leah: "Just roll down the window and throw it out."
Thomas: "But I can't do that. A car might hit me!"
* A Train (the engine and cars kind)
From Breitbart.com:
Traffic on the Eurostar, the train service that runs under the English Channel and connects London and Paris, was suspended for 90 minutes after an electrical cable holder was blown onto the tracks near the city of Lille in northern France, railway officials said.
* A Hairbrush
From Focht Tales:
Who would pack a hospital bag and forget to include a hairbrush? Well, until ten minutes ago, that was me. After spending a good hour wracking my brains trying to recall anything, anything at all, that I'd read about hairbrushes in the past few weeks, it dawned on me that I hadn't packed one for the hospital! Thank you, Darren and Sara, for the timely reminder. Now Baby can come anytime!
* An appeal for money
A very tactful request from MommyLife:
So just remember - whatever shopping you have to do, please save yourself time and money while supporting MommyLife by clicking through to Amazon from the Barbara's Store button on my right sidebar.
* A Hobby
From Mom Advice:
I am passionate about getting good deals, which makes me extremely passionate about going to garage sales and visiting our local thrift stores. There is nothing that thrills me more than to get to spend an hour hunting through all of the "junk" to find that one memorable treasure to bring home with me. I have always been this way, even when we had much more money than we do now. Thrifting has always been an outlet for me and now that we are eating at home more, I am able to use our dining out allowance to score some really great thrift store finds, without busting the budget.
* Green
From The Real Food Revolution:
Open some cans of black beans, or make some in the morning in the crockpot. Add to the beans, cumin, pepper, oregano, Cajun seasoning, dried cilantro leaves, chili flakes, and chopped bell peppers. (I actually roasted the pepper I had and then pureed it with some of the beans and added it all back in, but my husband doesn’t like the texture of cooked peppers if they are in larger pieces.) Puree about a 1/4 cup of the beans and stir into the rest to make creamy, serve with the quinoa and a green salad.
* A Shoe
From Baby Cheapskate:
I think we've outgrown Robeez (okay, Robeez knock offs, I'm cheap). I can accept that my wee one now needs real shoes (sniff!). What I can't accept is how much toddler shoes cost! I admit, I'm a shoe person; I notice shoes. I'm always commenting on the other kids' shoes at the playground. I love the look of those trendy Vincent shoes, sure, but forty bucks (on sale) for something my kid's gonna outgrow long before the shoe is worn out? Come on!
* A Tooth
From The Duchy Of Burgundy Carrots:
Look at the pictures and you will see lots of teeth!
* An Odd Name
From Doug's Blog:
The Christian Boys’ & Men’s Titanic Society Eleventh Anniversary Banquet
(I really wanted to post a link to his family picture, where you could see children with such names as Justice and Jubilee. But I couldn't find such a link quickly enough without using search tools. Oh, well. This is a mouthful of a name for an event, let alone a society.)
* A Car (fancier the better)
From LinkTheValiant:
I'd always wondered whether the stereotypes of Corvette owners were accurate, and I've received confirmation today. Coming home, I was behind a Corvette at a stoplight. He was waiting with the engine revved slightly above midrange. As soon as the light changed, he was off. I turned the corner in my usual way, and saw that the guy had accelerated to 55 in a 35 zone. Not a quarter of a mile farther on, he pulls off and turns in to a school of all places. . . It's no wonder that, aside from theft, insurance rates are so high for Corvettes.
* A Frightful Dilemma
From Not Alone:
Seriously folks -- I have not, nor do I intend to, change the ability for everyone to leave comments. I'd rather hear honest, thoughtful conversation. But I would ask for a bit of courtesy in return...If you cannot contain yourselves to appropriate comments, then I will be forced to moderate comments (which I do NOT want to do-- but I'm feeling pressed).
* A Discussion of Childbirth
From Focht Tales:
The only thing about the Jolie-Pitt baby hoopla that interested me enough to irritate me was the statement by their apparently famous and accomplished doctor (so hand-picked that they flew him all the way to Africa to deliver their child), something along the lines of: 'The baby was delivered by a planned cesarean due to a breech presentation.'
* A Theological Discussion/Debate
From Kevin & Amy's World:
Frankly, I’m disturbed at the hoopla surrounding the Pope’s passing. If the he were a true follower of Christ, he would not want Catholics to make such a big deal over him. After all, he’s a mere mortal. Or did he claim to be more than that?
* A Funny Line, Joke, or Short Post
From LinkTheValiant's Site:
Little brothers can be hilarious. Case in point, on the way home from work yesterday:
Leah, in backseat: "Thomas, can you get that bug there for me?"
Thomas gets the bug.
Leah: "Okay, thank you, can you get rid of it?"
Thomas reaches for the door.
Leah: "Just roll down the window and throw it out."
Thomas: "But I can't do that. A car might hit me!"
* A Train (the engine and cars kind)
From Breitbart.com:
Traffic on the Eurostar, the train service that runs under the English Channel and connects London and Paris, was suspended for 90 minutes after an electrical cable holder was blown onto the tracks near the city of Lille in northern France, railway officials said.
* A Hairbrush
From Focht Tales:
Who would pack a hospital bag and forget to include a hairbrush? Well, until ten minutes ago, that was me. After spending a good hour wracking my brains trying to recall anything, anything at all, that I'd read about hairbrushes in the past few weeks, it dawned on me that I hadn't packed one for the hospital! Thank you, Darren and Sara, for the timely reminder. Now Baby can come anytime!
* An appeal for money
A very tactful request from MommyLife:
So just remember - whatever shopping you have to do, please save yourself time and money while supporting MommyLife by clicking through to Amazon from the Barbara's Store button on my right sidebar.
* A Hobby
From Mom Advice:
I am passionate about getting good deals, which makes me extremely passionate about going to garage sales and visiting our local thrift stores. There is nothing that thrills me more than to get to spend an hour hunting through all of the "junk" to find that one memorable treasure to bring home with me. I have always been this way, even when we had much more money than we do now. Thrifting has always been an outlet for me and now that we are eating at home more, I am able to use our dining out allowance to score some really great thrift store finds, without busting the budget.
* Green
From The Real Food Revolution:
Open some cans of black beans, or make some in the morning in the crockpot. Add to the beans, cumin, pepper, oregano, Cajun seasoning, dried cilantro leaves, chili flakes, and chopped bell peppers. (I actually roasted the pepper I had and then pureed it with some of the beans and added it all back in, but my husband doesn’t like the texture of cooked peppers if they are in larger pieces.) Puree about a 1/4 cup of the beans and stir into the rest to make creamy, serve with the quinoa and a green salad.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Hit any key to continue...No, no, no, not that one!
I saw that in a cartoon once, and it's about how I feel re: Baby right now. I specifically didn't want Baby to come before Saturday (which, admittedly, would have been a really long shot anyway) because we had tickets to Cirque du Soleil and I really didn't want to miss it. (This was our Christmas present to each other, although as we both sheepishly acknowledged, we were going to buy the tickets anyway and calling it our Christmas present was really just a clever way to get out of wasting money buying superfluous presents for each other. We are so lame.)
Anyway we went to the show and thoroughly enjoyed it, and I told Baby afterwards that he/she was welcome to come any time now. Somewhat wishful thinking, I suppose, but I started taking Evening Primrose Oil every night just in case Baby needed a nudge. Never hurts to plan ahead, right?
Now Jane's fever is still dragging on (though she seems to be improving) and I'm thinking that I really don't want to leave a sick toddler with friends while I go off to the hospital to have another baby. So Baby can just hang on a few more days until Jane is fully recovered and no longer contagious. In fact, another week or two would be just fine, according to the original schedule, thank you very much.
Anyway we went to the show and thoroughly enjoyed it, and I told Baby afterwards that he/she was welcome to come any time now. Somewhat wishful thinking, I suppose, but I started taking Evening Primrose Oil every night just in case Baby needed a nudge. Never hurts to plan ahead, right?
Now Jane's fever is still dragging on (though she seems to be improving) and I'm thinking that I really don't want to leave a sick toddler with friends while I go off to the hospital to have another baby. So Baby can just hang on a few more days until Jane is fully recovered and no longer contagious. In fact, another week or two would be just fine, according to the original schedule, thank you very much.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Fever
Yesterday Jane came down with a high fever. I first noticed that she felt hot when I got her up from her nap, and her temperature registered at 102. We left a message for our pediatrician's answering service and meanwhile dressed her lightly, encouraged her to drink water, and tried to remember what the panic level is for fever in a young child. While we were waiting to hear back from the nurse on call we tried calling a couple of friends to ask for advice, since this was the first serious fever she's ever run. At least she exhibited no other symptoms and did make the occasional remark, thus evincing coherence and alertness despite her extreme apathy. It was a very odd evening, with us just sitting around taking turns holding a very hot (but so quiet and well-behaved!) child, not feeling very hungry, and not daring to do anything or go anywhere.
By the time the nurse called back, Jane's temperature was almost 104, but since she had no other symptoms and the fever hadn't lasted long enough to justify a visit, we were instructed to give her Tylenol to bring the fever down, keep giving her liquids, and check on her throughout the night. It was reassuring to know not to panic, though still very worrisome.
Today she's still a bit listless, but her temperature is down around 100, so we'll keep an eye on her and bring her in tomorrow morning if it persists. Otherwise, we'll just enjoy our quiet day.
By the time the nurse called back, Jane's temperature was almost 104, but since she had no other symptoms and the fever hadn't lasted long enough to justify a visit, we were instructed to give her Tylenol to bring the fever down, keep giving her liquids, and check on her throughout the night. It was reassuring to know not to panic, though still very worrisome.
Today she's still a bit listless, but her temperature is down around 100, so we'll keep an eye on her and bring her in tomorrow morning if it persists. Otherwise, we'll just enjoy our quiet day.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Goals 2007
Now you know (probably, because I think I've mentioned it on previous January posts) that I don't do New Year's resolutions (other than goofy ones that I was going to do anyway, like 'I'm going to lose 25 lbs. by the first quarter of the year!') but the turning of the calendar always makes me nostalgic and contemplative, and this year I fell to musing on goals and the way I approach them.
What brought this about is the curious feeling of non-stress that seems to have fallen over me upon embarking on the New Year. For some reason I've felt laid back, content, and completely not worried about a thing for the past week and a half or so. It seems that our calendar is pretty clear for the near future, after a seemingly interminable run of bouts with sickness, travel plans, houseguests, parties, and the like, so that's definitely a factor. But even in the day-to-day minutiae, once we got past the relaxing holidays, I found myself chilling out on a far grander scale than I can recall doing in recent history.
For instance, we hosted our Sunday school Christmas party on Saturday, which was a lot of fun and didn't feel stressful a bit to prepare for, even with Michael having to go in to work most of the day and me doing all the preparations solo. I had gotten quantities of marked-down paper goods in my post-Christmas shopping, so we didn't have many dishes to deal with, but there were quite a few pots and pans. These I set to soak and didn't feel compelled to scrub them out for two days, making the next day (Sunday) truly a day of rest because I wasn't racing around madly trying to clean up the kitchen. Usually it is difficult for me to relax if I am conscious of work undone, which has hijacked a quiet evening or two when Michael is ready to sit down with milk and cookies and watch a movie and I am still too focused on putting away laundry to sit still.
Why then would the laundry or dishes intrude on family time? Because I didn't get to it during the day, being too busy racing around with other points on my agenda such as running long errands (to get the best shopping bargains), baking cinnamon rolls (for Michael's breakfasts, so he doesn't have to eat cold cereal), chopping vegetables for supper (because of course it's cheaper and more nutritious to do it all from scratch), etc.
Now these are all good things and they are certainly done for the benefit of the family, but it occurred to me that I am really the impetus for all this frantic pace. Michael certainly appreciates how I stay on a budget and likes having home-cooked food around, but he is not imposing on me the details of how I run our household. In fact, it occurred to me that most of the time, it is more important to me than to him.
This is not to say that I should completely chill out and let things go to seed around here in an attempt to relax and focus solely on being a happy wife. Happiness should also come about from the satisfaction of honest industry. But the pots and pans that I left in the sink overnight did not disrupt my general feeling of well-being; at least they were stacked neatly, they were out of the way, they did not make the kitchen look cluttered, and I didn't use the slight mess as an excuse to let more mess pile up in the meantime. Therefore that was a successful incidence of a calculated deferred work plan.
I need wisdom to discern what the true benefit of any effort on my part will be, and to whom. I don't want to knock myself out to do something I think would be nice for someone, only to feel resentful and deflated when they don't appreciate it quite as much as I think the effort I put into it warranted, which should only prove to me that my motivation wasn't quite as genuine and good-hearted as I thought it was.
Of course, I'm not going to measure everything exclusively by the yardstick of quo bono - or rather, I'm not necessarily going to order my life accordingly. Some things may not matter to Michael as much but if I have a strong personal stake in it, then I may go ahead anyway. Dashing across town to get a free milkshake is just too fun to pass up, as long as I realise that I'm getting more mileage out of it than Michael.
(I toss that last paragraph in because I recently read a review of a new book that apparently claims that the secret to a happy marriage is basically for the wife to realise that her sole end in life is to be the helpmeet to her husband, and while I agree that the wife was designed to support and encourage and be the helpmeet to her husband, I don't believe that that means that every decision must personally advance the career, mental health, and personal satisfaction of the husband exclusively. Maybe that's not what the book was suggesting. But I've run across that school of thought before and I writhe when I hear it. The secret of a happy marriage, among other things, involves both parties being mature enough to defer and sacrifice when matters of personal interest conflict. The mainstream culture's pop psychology approach of negotiating 50-50 and making deals and bargains, and the extremely conservative approach of insisting that the wife's wishes and interests must always give way to the husband's because she is to submit, are both flawed, in my opinion. But I digress.)
So my goal for 2007 is to evaluate my daily goals and determine whose agenda I am pursuing. I hope this will help me streamline my daily to-do list and enable me to accomplish the truly important things without letting the house fall apart. I'll keep you posted - or maybe not, depending on where blogging ends up on the new spectrum. =)
What brought this about is the curious feeling of non-stress that seems to have fallen over me upon embarking on the New Year. For some reason I've felt laid back, content, and completely not worried about a thing for the past week and a half or so. It seems that our calendar is pretty clear for the near future, after a seemingly interminable run of bouts with sickness, travel plans, houseguests, parties, and the like, so that's definitely a factor. But even in the day-to-day minutiae, once we got past the relaxing holidays, I found myself chilling out on a far grander scale than I can recall doing in recent history.
For instance, we hosted our Sunday school Christmas party on Saturday, which was a lot of fun and didn't feel stressful a bit to prepare for, even with Michael having to go in to work most of the day and me doing all the preparations solo. I had gotten quantities of marked-down paper goods in my post-Christmas shopping, so we didn't have many dishes to deal with, but there were quite a few pots and pans. These I set to soak and didn't feel compelled to scrub them out for two days, making the next day (Sunday) truly a day of rest because I wasn't racing around madly trying to clean up the kitchen. Usually it is difficult for me to relax if I am conscious of work undone, which has hijacked a quiet evening or two when Michael is ready to sit down with milk and cookies and watch a movie and I am still too focused on putting away laundry to sit still.
Why then would the laundry or dishes intrude on family time? Because I didn't get to it during the day, being too busy racing around with other points on my agenda such as running long errands (to get the best shopping bargains), baking cinnamon rolls (for Michael's breakfasts, so he doesn't have to eat cold cereal), chopping vegetables for supper (because of course it's cheaper and more nutritious to do it all from scratch), etc.
Now these are all good things and they are certainly done for the benefit of the family, but it occurred to me that I am really the impetus for all this frantic pace. Michael certainly appreciates how I stay on a budget and likes having home-cooked food around, but he is not imposing on me the details of how I run our household. In fact, it occurred to me that most of the time, it is more important to me than to him.
This is not to say that I should completely chill out and let things go to seed around here in an attempt to relax and focus solely on being a happy wife. Happiness should also come about from the satisfaction of honest industry. But the pots and pans that I left in the sink overnight did not disrupt my general feeling of well-being; at least they were stacked neatly, they were out of the way, they did not make the kitchen look cluttered, and I didn't use the slight mess as an excuse to let more mess pile up in the meantime. Therefore that was a successful incidence of a calculated deferred work plan.
I need wisdom to discern what the true benefit of any effort on my part will be, and to whom. I don't want to knock myself out to do something I think would be nice for someone, only to feel resentful and deflated when they don't appreciate it quite as much as I think the effort I put into it warranted, which should only prove to me that my motivation wasn't quite as genuine and good-hearted as I thought it was.
Of course, I'm not going to measure everything exclusively by the yardstick of quo bono - or rather, I'm not necessarily going to order my life accordingly. Some things may not matter to Michael as much but if I have a strong personal stake in it, then I may go ahead anyway. Dashing across town to get a free milkshake is just too fun to pass up, as long as I realise that I'm getting more mileage out of it than Michael.
(I toss that last paragraph in because I recently read a review of a new book that apparently claims that the secret to a happy marriage is basically for the wife to realise that her sole end in life is to be the helpmeet to her husband, and while I agree that the wife was designed to support and encourage and be the helpmeet to her husband, I don't believe that that means that every decision must personally advance the career, mental health, and personal satisfaction of the husband exclusively. Maybe that's not what the book was suggesting. But I've run across that school of thought before and I writhe when I hear it. The secret of a happy marriage, among other things, involves both parties being mature enough to defer and sacrifice when matters of personal interest conflict. The mainstream culture's pop psychology approach of negotiating 50-50 and making deals and bargains, and the extremely conservative approach of insisting that the wife's wishes and interests must always give way to the husband's because she is to submit, are both flawed, in my opinion. But I digress.)
So my goal for 2007 is to evaluate my daily goals and determine whose agenda I am pursuing. I hope this will help me streamline my daily to-do list and enable me to accomplish the truly important things without letting the house fall apart. I'll keep you posted - or maybe not, depending on where blogging ends up on the new spectrum. =)
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
The times, they are a-changing
We've spent a good deal of time over the last week clearing out, sorting through, and tidying up. (Incidentally, with all the days off, I hardly know what day it is; for a long stretch there every day felt like a Saturday and it was weird when we finally did go to church. Next week things should feel more normal.)
But we finally decided to move Jane out of the nursery, mostly for our own convenience so we wouldn't have the children waking each other up during nights and naptimes. At first we thought we'd just move her crib across the hall into our acting guest room/office, and keep her stuff in the nursery. Then we realised that whenever Baby is asleep (and newborns do sleep a lot, I remember) we wouldn't have access to the changing pad, supplies, etc. That forced us to consider setting up a second changing station somewhere else, and the upshot of it all is that the former office/guest room (now renamed The Yellow Room, to avoid confusion) will now be Jane's room/guest room.
So we (as in Michael) took apart the computer, took apart the desk, and moved it all up to the bonus room. The bonus room has sloping ceilings, tons of boxes, and insufficient insulation, so it's really not a viable choice for an office. Thus far it's done fine housing our old computer, which was set up on a folding table, but now the old computer will be bumped off, the folding table will return to circulation as a folding table and not a makeshift computer desk, the current computer on current computer desk will become our new old computer, and we'll get a Mac and put it on the kitchen desk. Michael has been wanting one for a while, and the turning point came when he told me that Macs can be all-inclusive, meaning that there's no need for a tower case or superfluous equipment, meaning that all we'd have on the kitchen desk would be a flat screen monitor, keyboard, and mouse. I like the idea of having a computer out there, as long as it doesn't entail having all the cords, wires, scanner, printer, and the like. The house is networked so the peripherals can go upstairs, and we can still print from downstairs. I'm always running to the office anyway to look up a phone number or a recipe, so it can only make my life easier to have the hub of the universe located in my kitchen instead of a back room.
The only thing is that we don't have the Mac - yet. Once ordered, it can be here in a matter of days, but until it arrives, I'm dependent on the computer now located upstairs. That means I'm forever running up to the bonus room just to check email, which used to be a simple matter of just jiggling the mouse whenever passing through. All this exercise must be good for me, though, and may even bring Baby here the sooner. All the same, I'm anxious for a computer within easy reach again.
But we finally decided to move Jane out of the nursery, mostly for our own convenience so we wouldn't have the children waking each other up during nights and naptimes. At first we thought we'd just move her crib across the hall into our acting guest room/office, and keep her stuff in the nursery. Then we realised that whenever Baby is asleep (and newborns do sleep a lot, I remember) we wouldn't have access to the changing pad, supplies, etc. That forced us to consider setting up a second changing station somewhere else, and the upshot of it all is that the former office/guest room (now renamed The Yellow Room, to avoid confusion) will now be Jane's room/guest room.
So we (as in Michael) took apart the computer, took apart the desk, and moved it all up to the bonus room. The bonus room has sloping ceilings, tons of boxes, and insufficient insulation, so it's really not a viable choice for an office. Thus far it's done fine housing our old computer, which was set up on a folding table, but now the old computer will be bumped off, the folding table will return to circulation as a folding table and not a makeshift computer desk, the current computer on current computer desk will become our new old computer, and we'll get a Mac and put it on the kitchen desk. Michael has been wanting one for a while, and the turning point came when he told me that Macs can be all-inclusive, meaning that there's no need for a tower case or superfluous equipment, meaning that all we'd have on the kitchen desk would be a flat screen monitor, keyboard, and mouse. I like the idea of having a computer out there, as long as it doesn't entail having all the cords, wires, scanner, printer, and the like. The house is networked so the peripherals can go upstairs, and we can still print from downstairs. I'm always running to the office anyway to look up a phone number or a recipe, so it can only make my life easier to have the hub of the universe located in my kitchen instead of a back room.
The only thing is that we don't have the Mac - yet. Once ordered, it can be here in a matter of days, but until it arrives, I'm dependent on the computer now located upstairs. That means I'm forever running up to the bonus room just to check email, which used to be a simple matter of just jiggling the mouse whenever passing through. All this exercise must be good for me, though, and may even bring Baby here the sooner. All the same, I'm anxious for a computer within easy reach again.
Pregnancy photo
Here is one of me on New Year's Eve (you can tell it's after Christmas because the presents are all gone):
Even though I'm feeling smaller this time around, the baby is bigger. At my checkup this morning my midwife gave a rough estimate of 7 lbs. - and we still have at least three weeks to go! This is rather alarming. Fortunately Baby's not the one gaining a pound a week at this point.
Even though I'm feeling smaller this time around, the baby is bigger. At my checkup this morning my midwife gave a rough estimate of 7 lbs. - and we still have at least three weeks to go! This is rather alarming. Fortunately Baby's not the one gaining a pound a week at this point.
Hot & haute cuisine
I've been hearing so much about paninis recently that I thought I'd try making one (that, and I had some odds and ends of mozzarella slices, leftover Christmas beefstick, and rolls to use up). Apparently they are all the rage at upscale bakeries and cafes, and are merely hot, flat sandwiches. So I sliced a roll in half, fried the inside in butter, flipped the sides and lined the inside with cheese and meat, put the top half of the roll on top, pressed it flat with a potato masher, and waited for the cheese to melt. Michael and I both agreed that it tasted delicious, and I made several more. Who needs to spend $100+ on a panini grill when you can squish the sandwich just as flat in a skillet with a potato masher??
On the other end of the spectrum, last night I decided to try my hand at making hollandaise sauce, and to my great astonishment it turned out perfectly! I spent a good bit of time reading up on it online, and it's quite the delicate procedure, requiring patience, deftness, and lots of butter, but the oil and water didn't separate and the meal turned out so perfectly that I had to take a picture:
On the other end of the spectrum, last night I decided to try my hand at making hollandaise sauce, and to my great astonishment it turned out perfectly! I spent a good bit of time reading up on it online, and it's quite the delicate procedure, requiring patience, deftness, and lots of butter, but the oil and water didn't separate and the meal turned out so perfectly that I had to take a picture:
Monday, January 01, 2007
Happy New Year!!
2007 is here! Another year is upon us. This time we didn't go anywhere because of the child's bedtime, although she did make it up past ten, happily running around our own living room. We stayed up til midnight, though, and watched It's a Wonderful Life, made ice cream, and talked about New Years past. This is the fourth New Year's we've spent together since getting married, and I've been pregnant two of them. That always makes my New Year's Resolution (if I took such things seriously) of Losing Weight This Year straightforward.
The sun is shining, the house is clean, and it looks to be a lovely year!
Friday, December 29, 2006
Ho ho ho and a bottle of eggnog
Christmas comes but once a year, but what a wonderful time it is! We had a full week and a full house, and we're still sorting ourselves and our increased possessions out.
Family came and stayed several days, and we had great fun serving up all kinds of dishes and desserts. The boys loved watching Michael's collection of Mr. Bean (very slapstick, very silly but sometimes incredibly funny British comedy). We hit up the after-Christmas sales and stockpiled ample wrapping materials for next year. Alas, none of the stores were marking down chocolates in the quantities I had hoped. Not that we really needed to go spend lots of money on chocolates.
This lull is such a peaceful time of the year as well. When I was working I always got used to a good two-week span of having more days off than on, of dressing casual and sleeping in a lot, and that still captures my mindset. Michael got three days off for Christmas (talk about short work-weeks!) and gets one day off next week, so it will be a lazy spell for a time. Fortunately we still have one more party to look forward to: our Sunday school class Christmas party, which we couldn't manage to schedule in this year, and so are holding on epiphany and calling the Twelve Days of Christmas Party. This next month is going to go so quickly.
Family came and stayed several days, and we had great fun serving up all kinds of dishes and desserts. The boys loved watching Michael's collection of Mr. Bean (very slapstick, very silly but sometimes incredibly funny British comedy). We hit up the after-Christmas sales and stockpiled ample wrapping materials for next year. Alas, none of the stores were marking down chocolates in the quantities I had hoped. Not that we really needed to go spend lots of money on chocolates.
This lull is such a peaceful time of the year as well. When I was working I always got used to a good two-week span of having more days off than on, of dressing casual and sleeping in a lot, and that still captures my mindset. Michael got three days off for Christmas (talk about short work-weeks!) and gets one day off next week, so it will be a lazy spell for a time. Fortunately we still have one more party to look forward to: our Sunday school class Christmas party, which we couldn't manage to schedule in this year, and so are holding on epiphany and calling the Twelve Days of Christmas Party. This next month is going to go so quickly.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
The element of surprise
'Oh, good for you!'
'I'm so glad you're doing that!'
'How nice! That is such a good way of doing it!'
I get these comments a lot these days, it seems. Am I being complimented for some great accomplishment or tough moral stance? No, simply for not knowing whether our second child is a boy or a girl.
(Usually the way we explain it is to answer the question 'When are you going to find out?' or 'So are you finding out what it is?' by replying, 'Yes, in February,' and then watching them do a double take as they realise that was when we said the due date was.)
The almost-universal approbation with which our decision not to find out in advance is greeted puzzles me, as if there's some sort of moral high ground related to staying in the dark. As far as I'm concerned, it's not a matter of right or wrong, but simply a matter of personal preference; and as it happens, this is what works for us.
I definitely wanted the surprise the first time around, mainly from a keen sense of anticipation and an awareness that this was the most open-ended question there could possibly be. I think I was more likely to want to find out this time around, but Michael leaned very slightly toward the surprise model, and I didn't feel strongly enough to override that. Besides - the deciding factor - the practice I'm with now does not routinely order the 20-week ultrasound, meaning that it's purely elective, meaning that insurance wouldn't have covered it, meaning that we would have had to have been really dying of curiosity to find out.
Whether it's a boy or a girl, our plans are not going to change. Baby is going into the nursery and we're not going to bother repainting. And most importantly of all, it truly doesn't matter to us which one we have. We don't look upon our family as a work in progress, lacking only one piece to complete the collection. Children aren't models from cereal boxes, where you need to collect all the action figures to get the full benefit of the set. We are simply not 'hoping' for one above the other.
Back to the moral high ground question. It seems that a lot of people tend to think it's good to be surprised because 1) that's uncommon these days, and anyone who bucks the trend is to be commended; 2) that's the way it used to be, hence old-fashioned, hence more natural. Both of these ideas are rather silly. It's uncommon in our culture and old-fashioned not to shower every day, but does that mean that's necessarily a good thing?
Okay, I know there are some possible risks to fetal ultrasounds and there haven't been enough conclusive studies done to conclude long-term effects, so there's the slight possibility that we should all avoid ultrasound until we know for sure just what the side effects really are. I'm still inclined to think that they're relatively harmless (of course, that's what they thought about x-rays too, back in the days when they were so casual about this new science that they'd let kids x-ray their feet just to try on shoes) and I'm not going to be that worried to the point of avoiding them for that reason alone. After all, sound waves bounce around in this world all the time, right?
Why am I up so early on a Saturday morning? Baby literally prodded me awake. Whoever you are, child, you will have no problems keeping up with your older sister - and believe me, I thought she was a live wire.
'I'm so glad you're doing that!'
'How nice! That is such a good way of doing it!'
I get these comments a lot these days, it seems. Am I being complimented for some great accomplishment or tough moral stance? No, simply for not knowing whether our second child is a boy or a girl.
(Usually the way we explain it is to answer the question 'When are you going to find out?' or 'So are you finding out what it is?' by replying, 'Yes, in February,' and then watching them do a double take as they realise that was when we said the due date was.)
The almost-universal approbation with which our decision not to find out in advance is greeted puzzles me, as if there's some sort of moral high ground related to staying in the dark. As far as I'm concerned, it's not a matter of right or wrong, but simply a matter of personal preference; and as it happens, this is what works for us.
I definitely wanted the surprise the first time around, mainly from a keen sense of anticipation and an awareness that this was the most open-ended question there could possibly be. I think I was more likely to want to find out this time around, but Michael leaned very slightly toward the surprise model, and I didn't feel strongly enough to override that. Besides - the deciding factor - the practice I'm with now does not routinely order the 20-week ultrasound, meaning that it's purely elective, meaning that insurance wouldn't have covered it, meaning that we would have had to have been really dying of curiosity to find out.
Whether it's a boy or a girl, our plans are not going to change. Baby is going into the nursery and we're not going to bother repainting. And most importantly of all, it truly doesn't matter to us which one we have. We don't look upon our family as a work in progress, lacking only one piece to complete the collection. Children aren't models from cereal boxes, where you need to collect all the action figures to get the full benefit of the set. We are simply not 'hoping' for one above the other.
Back to the moral high ground question. It seems that a lot of people tend to think it's good to be surprised because 1) that's uncommon these days, and anyone who bucks the trend is to be commended; 2) that's the way it used to be, hence old-fashioned, hence more natural. Both of these ideas are rather silly. It's uncommon in our culture and old-fashioned not to shower every day, but does that mean that's necessarily a good thing?
Okay, I know there are some possible risks to fetal ultrasounds and there haven't been enough conclusive studies done to conclude long-term effects, so there's the slight possibility that we should all avoid ultrasound until we know for sure just what the side effects really are. I'm still inclined to think that they're relatively harmless (of course, that's what they thought about x-rays too, back in the days when they were so casual about this new science that they'd let kids x-ray their feet just to try on shoes) and I'm not going to be that worried to the point of avoiding them for that reason alone. After all, sound waves bounce around in this world all the time, right?
Why am I up so early on a Saturday morning? Baby literally prodded me awake. Whoever you are, child, you will have no problems keeping up with your older sister - and believe me, I thought she was a live wire.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
'Tis the darkest day of the year
But Christmas is only four days away!
I'm happy because:
* We are completely better and feeling SO glad to be back in the land of the living! The bout with illness made me very grateful for our health, which we usually take for granted, and it also made me very thankful that we didn't get sick this weekend.
* Jane and I got to decorate cookies at play group this morning, and I love sugar cookies! We haven't had a cookie bake yet this year so it was wonderful to get our fingers sticky with frosting and make pretty stars, trees, gingerbread men, and candy canes.
* My family is coming down this weekend and we are going to have a wonderful time! The house will be full of song and mirth and good food aplenty.
* A chicken roasteth in the oven and the house is filled with its aroma.
I'm happy because:
* We are completely better and feeling SO glad to be back in the land of the living! The bout with illness made me very grateful for our health, which we usually take for granted, and it also made me very thankful that we didn't get sick this weekend.
* Jane and I got to decorate cookies at play group this morning, and I love sugar cookies! We haven't had a cookie bake yet this year so it was wonderful to get our fingers sticky with frosting and make pretty stars, trees, gingerbread men, and candy canes.
* My family is coming down this weekend and we are going to have a wonderful time! The house will be full of song and mirth and good food aplenty.
* A chicken roasteth in the oven and the house is filled with its aroma.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
For the shortest ones of the year, these days sure feel long...
We've been battling stomach flu in our family, and gaining at best a pyrrhic victory. Suffice it to say that this has not been a house of mirth for the last few days. Now we seem to be on the road to recovery, considerably weakened but with a firm conviction that we (at least the grown-ups, the one who are safely past the risk of contracting autism) shall jolly well take the flu shot from now on.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Back to square one again
Over the last few months we've been developing patterns and systems, and we've fallen into a very comfortable routine at last. I like the pleasant tenor of our life. Jane is old enough to be responsive to simple instructions, and that's very gratifying. She is independent enough now to require much less intensive supervision, freeing me up to do a lot more around the house, so I've really taken off on the domesticity front in the last few months. I've figured out a good schedule for housecleaning, laundry (tossing the bibs and napkins in the wash just often enough to keep fresh ones always in supply but infrequently enough so as not to make them disappear too quickly down the lint screen), baking, cooking, snacking on fresh, healthful foods, shopping the sales, and playing. We've finally rearranged the furniture in the nursery to suit us, and I can't imagine why I didn't attack that project long before. (Until a few months ago, the nursery closets still contained camping gear, luggage, and other miscellaneous stuff that we threw in there upon our move, figuring that we'd find a place for it eventually.) Now the nursery is practical and efficient, not to mention bright and cheery, and I've been doing the same thing to the rest of the house as well, bit by bit, clearing out closets and finding stuff that we haven't touched since we moved in. It's all very satisfying and rewarding.
However, there is a slight cloud on my horizon as I contemplate this blissful state of things: it can't last. All these months of settling, all these experiences of adapting with Jane, all this trial and experimentation - it's finally paid off, and we've found our niche, just in time to have everything upset and rearranged. We're going to have to go off and invent the wheel again with an entirely new set of parameters. Baking, shopping, cleaning, laundry - all will fall prey to the demands of the new imperative, and only time will sort all these things out again. Oh, well. At least I'll have a baby out of the deal.
However, there is a slight cloud on my horizon as I contemplate this blissful state of things: it can't last. All these months of settling, all these experiences of adapting with Jane, all this trial and experimentation - it's finally paid off, and we've found our niche, just in time to have everything upset and rearranged. We're going to have to go off and invent the wheel again with an entirely new set of parameters. Baking, shopping, cleaning, laundry - all will fall prey to the demands of the new imperative, and only time will sort all these things out again. Oh, well. At least I'll have a baby out of the deal.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Unconventional thoughts on common enough occurrences
There's a lovely passage in Cheaper By The Dozen that describes the Gilbreths' obsession with efficiency, which they consider next to godliness. While visiting her parents in California, Mother spends an afternoon making calls on old friends. She returns in triumph and announces to her mother, 'There! Six calls in two hours! Wasn't I efficient?'
'Perhaps, Lillie dear,' replies grandmother, 'perhaps you were a little too efficient.'
Which was as severe as the Gilbreth children had ever heard their grandmother sound, and it came as a surprise to them, since they were all in an agreement of admiration for their mother's efficiency.
I want my children to appreciate efficiency, of course. I'm just not sure I want them to be quite as warped as their mother is:
On wearing makeup:
Oh, bother, I have to wash my face tonight.
On being given a nice present for Jane:
Uh-oh, does it use batteries?
On receiving a complimentary 'three-day' sample of an expensive cosmetic:
Ha! Watch me make this last three months!
On picking up a quarter while shopping:
Wow, that just brought down my weekly budget!
'Perhaps, Lillie dear,' replies grandmother, 'perhaps you were a little too efficient.'
Which was as severe as the Gilbreth children had ever heard their grandmother sound, and it came as a surprise to them, since they were all in an agreement of admiration for their mother's efficiency.
I want my children to appreciate efficiency, of course. I'm just not sure I want them to be quite as warped as their mother is:
On wearing makeup:
Oh, bother, I have to wash my face tonight.
On being given a nice present for Jane:
Uh-oh, does it use batteries?
On receiving a complimentary 'three-day' sample of an expensive cosmetic:
Ha! Watch me make this last three months!
On picking up a quarter while shopping:
Wow, that just brought down my weekly budget!
Monday, December 04, 2006
Overheard during the Scrabble game
'Of ag, ig, and og, which do you think is the most likely to be a real word?'
'Oy vey! I don't have many options. Oy vey, I'll do my best.' Plays oy.
'Is that a real American word?'
'Oy vey! People use it all the time!'
'So at which point do acronyms pass into commonly accepted vernacular? I mean, nobody capitalises laser anymore.'
'Well, at the very least, it doesn't count if people still say the letters indivudually.'
'So SUV doesn't count.'
'Uhhhh...no.'
'Oy vey! I don't have many options. Oy vey, I'll do my best.' Plays oy.
'Is that a real American word?'
'Oy vey! People use it all the time!'
'So at which point do acronyms pass into commonly accepted vernacular? I mean, nobody capitalises laser anymore.'
'Well, at the very least, it doesn't count if people still say the letters indivudually.'
'So SUV doesn't count.'
'Uhhhh...no.'
Saturday, December 02, 2006
A cake and a catastrophe
Scarcely had we returned from our Thanksgiving travels when we received a houseguest in the form of my grandmother, Oma. Oma is slowing down these days so her pace exactly fit the relaxed week we needed to recover from travel. We had carefully not booked anything that whole week, so we had a very pleasant visit with short daily to-do lists, along the lines of Buy A Christmas Present For Jane and Mail A Letter.
On Wednesday I determined to bake an apple cake, based on a newly-discovered recipe that I thought would be scrumptious. I used all the finest ingredients: three fresh Rome apples, honey instead of sugar, freshly-ground oat flour, lots of nuts, etc. It was a perfect cake. It rose properly and smelled lovely when it came out of the oven. In addition to all this, I made Michael's favourite meal of roast chicken, not even forgetting to put the potatoes on to boil ten minutes before his return home.
I was just in time to greet him at the door when we heard a large crash. Running into the kitchen, we were greeted with the sight of broken glass strewn all over the floor, and a smoking heap of cake crumbs on top of the stove. Meanwhile the potatoes were stone cold. I had turned on the wrong burner, and the cake pan had heated and shattered. Dinner was over an hour late, since we couldn't turn on the potatoes until we had cleaned everything up thoroughly. I was torn between relief that there hadn't been a fire, disappointment over the loss of my one 13x9 glass baking pan, and despair over the thought of all those fine, expensive ingredients gone to waste (we had to throw the whole thing away for fear of glass shards. Even I wasn't desperate enough to go picking through the crumbs in search of the occasional edible morsel).
However, the story ends happily enough, because Oma bought me a new glass pan the next day. I made another apple cake and carefully set it to cool on the counter, and all is well.
On Wednesday I determined to bake an apple cake, based on a newly-discovered recipe that I thought would be scrumptious. I used all the finest ingredients: three fresh Rome apples, honey instead of sugar, freshly-ground oat flour, lots of nuts, etc. It was a perfect cake. It rose properly and smelled lovely when it came out of the oven. In addition to all this, I made Michael's favourite meal of roast chicken, not even forgetting to put the potatoes on to boil ten minutes before his return home.
I was just in time to greet him at the door when we heard a large crash. Running into the kitchen, we were greeted with the sight of broken glass strewn all over the floor, and a smoking heap of cake crumbs on top of the stove. Meanwhile the potatoes were stone cold. I had turned on the wrong burner, and the cake pan had heated and shattered. Dinner was over an hour late, since we couldn't turn on the potatoes until we had cleaned everything up thoroughly. I was torn between relief that there hadn't been a fire, disappointment over the loss of my one 13x9 glass baking pan, and despair over the thought of all those fine, expensive ingredients gone to waste (we had to throw the whole thing away for fear of glass shards. Even I wasn't desperate enough to go picking through the crumbs in search of the occasional edible morsel).
However, the story ends happily enough, because Oma bought me a new glass pan the next day. I made another apple cake and carefully set it to cool on the counter, and all is well.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Analysis of Thanksgiving plans
In case you were wondering whether to stay or go next Thanksgiving, I've compiled the following synopsis of Thanksgiving travel - just a few thoughts to keep in mind:
Pros:
Free meal
Money savings by not shopping the day after
Sleep savings by not shopping the day after
Cons:
Inability to hoard leftovers for self
Cost of gas, plane tickets, etc.
Loss of sleep from travel time, unfamiliar surroundings, etc.
Unpacking afterwards
Laundry afterwards
House cold upon return
Inability to put up tree the day after Thanksgiving, thus losing at least one more day from the already too-short Christmas season
Pros:
Free meal
Money savings by not shopping the day after
Sleep savings by not shopping the day after
Cons:
Inability to hoard leftovers for self
Cost of gas, plane tickets, etc.
Loss of sleep from travel time, unfamiliar surroundings, etc.
Unpacking afterwards
Laundry afterwards
House cold upon return
Inability to put up tree the day after Thanksgiving, thus losing at least one more day from the already too-short Christmas season
Our little girl is growing up
She must be growing by leaps and bounds, but it seems to be happening so gradually that I hardly notice the change, expect in retrospect. I think I'm at grave risk of underestimating her at this stage and letting something of her tremendous potential fall through the cracks, because she continues to amaze me with what she comprehends and grasps. I keep discovering by accident things she can do, and then reminding myself that I should be on a rampage to equip her to be independent.
I've been talking aloud to her for months now, of course, but only recently did I happen to voice an instruction, probably without any idea of her actually understanding me. She is, however, capable of understanding much more than she can say, and can follow pretty much any simple instruction by now. New instructions she picks up quickly by my speaking slowly and clearly, using at least a word or two she knows, pointing to the steps involved, and modeling the action for her. She has been picking up her toys for the past couple of weeks now, she puts away the Tupperware when she's done playing in the drawer, and she puts whatever I tell her to in the trash. (The drawback of this newfound talent is that she puts pretty much anything in the trash, so we have to keep a sharp lookout for abandoned sippy cups, shoes, and the like.)
A few days ago she went into a little coughing fit. 'Are you okay?' I asked absently, patting her gently on the back. Later that day she coughed, and then came over, patting her shoulder (which was as far back as she could reach) and saying 'Kay? Kay?' Now every time she coughs, if I do not inquire after her health quickly enough, she prompts me. Sometimes she even fakes coughs to elicit a pat on the back.
It's an exciting time. I'm glad to see her independence and confidence growing daily, and I look forward to the time (very soon, I hope) when we can begin to have intelligent conversations together. Or at least a greater degree of comprehension than we now enjoy.
I've been talking aloud to her for months now, of course, but only recently did I happen to voice an instruction, probably without any idea of her actually understanding me. She is, however, capable of understanding much more than she can say, and can follow pretty much any simple instruction by now. New instructions she picks up quickly by my speaking slowly and clearly, using at least a word or two she knows, pointing to the steps involved, and modeling the action for her. She has been picking up her toys for the past couple of weeks now, she puts away the Tupperware when she's done playing in the drawer, and she puts whatever I tell her to in the trash. (The drawback of this newfound talent is that she puts pretty much anything in the trash, so we have to keep a sharp lookout for abandoned sippy cups, shoes, and the like.)
A few days ago she went into a little coughing fit. 'Are you okay?' I asked absently, patting her gently on the back. Later that day she coughed, and then came over, patting her shoulder (which was as far back as she could reach) and saying 'Kay? Kay?' Now every time she coughs, if I do not inquire after her health quickly enough, she prompts me. Sometimes she even fakes coughs to elicit a pat on the back.
It's an exciting time. I'm glad to see her independence and confidence growing daily, and I look forward to the time (very soon, I hope) when we can begin to have intelligent conversations together. Or at least a greater degree of comprehension than we now enjoy.
Back again
We're back from Ohio for the Thanksgiving holiday, older and wiser and shorter on sleep than when we left. Our next New Year's resolution will be easy to carry out: Never travel on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving again. Traffic was so nightmarish that we decided to curtail our visit and leave a day early simply to avoid the crush on Sunday. Sorry to miss an extra day with family, but glad we were to get home in decent shape. Jane was an absolute brick the whole time, laughing and giggling to herself in the carseat for much of the trip, sleeping a little bit, and 'reading' books and cuddling toys quite a bit.
There was no snow. And now we can settle back and wait for the Christmas whirl of gaiety to descend upon us, for we're not planning to go anywhere for a good long while, except to the hospital in February. Currently I'm trying to plan a Christmas party for our Sunday school class, which I do so hope comes off, because I have so many hilarious and clever ideas for the white elephant gift exchange.
There was no snow. And now we can settle back and wait for the Christmas whirl of gaiety to descend upon us, for we're not planning to go anywhere for a good long while, except to the hospital in February. Currently I'm trying to plan a Christmas party for our Sunday school class, which I do so hope comes off, because I have so many hilarious and clever ideas for the white elephant gift exchange.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Overheard this weekend
Me: Ah-choo!
Michael: Bless you.
Me(again): Ah-choo!
Michael: Bless you!
Me(shortly thereafter): Ah-choo!
Michael: Yeah, yeah. You just want attention!
Michael: Bless you.
Me(again): Ah-choo!
Michael: Bless you!
Me(shortly thereafter): Ah-choo!
Michael: Yeah, yeah. You just want attention!
Friday, November 17, 2006
In sickness and in health
We are all sick here, and seem to have been that way for a long time. It started on my part a couple of weeks ago with a scratchy throat, which I chalked up to the dry weather and turning the heat on in the house for the first time this season. But it dragged on and on, and by the time I had gone through a couple of rounds of losing my voice, Jane had a runny nose, and Michael had a bad cough, I broke down and admitted that we were all fighting a very bad cold.
The most annoying thing about it, as far as I am concerned, is the lingering tenacity of it, and not the severity, because a sore throat and occasional coughing fit do not represent the most miserable state I've ever been in. It just seems like this has lasted long enough. But my midwife told me at my checkup this week that it's not uncommon for colds to last 3 weeks or more, since pregnancy affects the immune system in random ways. At least there's a good excuse for this and we don't have to assume it's strep throat or anything dire.
Michael worked from home two days this week to rest up and recover his strength, and seems to be doing much better. Jane never had much worse than a runny nose, and that didn't seem to bother her. I am reminded of the classic A.A. Milne poem:
In spite of her sniffle
Isabel's chiffle.
Blah. I just want us to be feeling all better before we leave for Ohio next week.
The most annoying thing about it, as far as I am concerned, is the lingering tenacity of it, and not the severity, because a sore throat and occasional coughing fit do not represent the most miserable state I've ever been in. It just seems like this has lasted long enough. But my midwife told me at my checkup this week that it's not uncommon for colds to last 3 weeks or more, since pregnancy affects the immune system in random ways. At least there's a good excuse for this and we don't have to assume it's strep throat or anything dire.
Michael worked from home two days this week to rest up and recover his strength, and seems to be doing much better. Jane never had much worse than a runny nose, and that didn't seem to bother her. I am reminded of the classic A.A. Milne poem:
In spite of her sniffle
Isabel's chiffle.
Blah. I just want us to be feeling all better before we leave for Ohio next week.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Health kick update
So I'm trying not to go overboard on this regimen, while still implementing some minor changes, since I'm convinced there's always room for improvement. The current rule of thumb is nothing too sweeping, nothing too drastic, nothing too expensive, nothing too complicated, and nothing in huge quantities, in case it doesn't work out, and meantime carry on with the research.
The obvious first step is the peanut butter. I was delighted to find that the completely natural stuff is available right next to the regular stuff on the shelf at Kroger, and for not too much more. We do eat some peanut butter, but not a lot (but we really should eat more!) so for now switching to good, wholesome peanut butter will not require too much of a sacrifice. Jane likes the taste of it, and I can't tell that much of a difference.
I'm not quite ready to swear off ever eating any hydrogenated fats or high fructose corn syrup ever again, but I am definitely wary of them, and I'm going to scrupulously read labels from now on and cast a skeptical eye on anything containing them. We'd better really love the final product if we do decide to go on eating it.
I was shocked and disappointed to find out how horrible the packs of hot cocoa mix are. It doesn't even appear that they contain real chocolate! There are few winter things I savour so much as curling up with a good steaming mug of hot cocoa. I will stop the ridiculous sugar dose, however, and try to mix up my own with cocoa powder and powdered sugar (alas! How many failed cups must I drink until I discover the correct dosage? 'Ah, too sweet.' 'Oh, too chocolatey') when the urge seizes me. Meanwhile, I am delighted to discover the delights of a good cup of tea. This is something I've brewed on occasion and always enjoyed, but I haven't really ever established a habit. I intend to do so now, especially as herbal teas offer so much for pregnancy. A delicate cup of hot tea with a touch of wild honey is now becoming my daily ritual.
I really want us to eat more fresh fruits and vegetables. This is one concession, however, that my budget is not quite willing to relinquish. This is the worst time of year to be thinking about buying lots of fresh produce, and most of the stuff in the grocery store wouldn't be that fresh or nutritious anyway. So I've decided that I will start sprouting things on our countertops. My mom used to do this Oregon long ago, and I always loved eating the fresh alfalfa sprouts (not to mention watching them grow! I didn't even need a chia pet!) I need to find a source for alfalfa sprout seeds, and I may even try bean sprouts if I feel that ambitious. I would love to have two or three strainers going at once, so I have a tablespoon or so of fresh sprouts to eat every day. The kids will grow up loving them because they won't know any different, and they will think that leftover turkey-cream cheese-cranberry sauce-alfalfa sprout sandwiches are perfectly normal, which I do, because I grew up eating them, whereas Michael did not.
The grand prize of the last week and a half of health food foraging came in the jams and jellies department. We had just finished a jar of blackberry jam, and when shopping for replenishment I was not surprised to find most labels listing massive quantities of artificial sweetenings and preservatives. Now jellies do require a good bit of sugar to jell, but not all that fake stuff! Even the stuff billed as natural was pretty stiffly laced with unpleasantness. So I looked up a recipe for blueberry jam, and cooked up a batch! It was so easy. Not at all daunting, nor as tedious or cumbersome as I'd remembered, stirring for hours and hours over a hot stove while melting down apple peels for the pectin or some such. We still had several ziploc bags of blueberries in our freezer from last summer's catch, which I have been hoarding (and I am determined to stop hoarding things and start enjoying them! But that's a story for another post) but decided it was time to use up. The recipe entailed:
4 cups of blueberries
1/4 cup of sugar (I was amazed at this! Most jelly recipes I remember require about one part sugar to one part fruit in order to jell!)
1/4 cup orange juice (to simplify matters I just bought an orange and squeezed it fresh)
2 packets unflavoured gelatin (nothing sinister about this, as far as I could see; as Michael said, 'pure unvarnished horse's hooves')
I spent maybe half an hour on the whole operation, and ended up with a quart jar of lovely jelled-up blueberry jam. It's very tasty, and we've been enjoying it on pancakes and English muffins for the past week now. I am definitely going to make all our jam from now on, and wish only that blackberries grew as profusely here as they did in Oregon.
The obvious first step is the peanut butter. I was delighted to find that the completely natural stuff is available right next to the regular stuff on the shelf at Kroger, and for not too much more. We do eat some peanut butter, but not a lot (but we really should eat more!) so for now switching to good, wholesome peanut butter will not require too much of a sacrifice. Jane likes the taste of it, and I can't tell that much of a difference.
I'm not quite ready to swear off ever eating any hydrogenated fats or high fructose corn syrup ever again, but I am definitely wary of them, and I'm going to scrupulously read labels from now on and cast a skeptical eye on anything containing them. We'd better really love the final product if we do decide to go on eating it.
I was shocked and disappointed to find out how horrible the packs of hot cocoa mix are. It doesn't even appear that they contain real chocolate! There are few winter things I savour so much as curling up with a good steaming mug of hot cocoa. I will stop the ridiculous sugar dose, however, and try to mix up my own with cocoa powder and powdered sugar (alas! How many failed cups must I drink until I discover the correct dosage? 'Ah, too sweet.' 'Oh, too chocolatey') when the urge seizes me. Meanwhile, I am delighted to discover the delights of a good cup of tea. This is something I've brewed on occasion and always enjoyed, but I haven't really ever established a habit. I intend to do so now, especially as herbal teas offer so much for pregnancy. A delicate cup of hot tea with a touch of wild honey is now becoming my daily ritual.
I really want us to eat more fresh fruits and vegetables. This is one concession, however, that my budget is not quite willing to relinquish. This is the worst time of year to be thinking about buying lots of fresh produce, and most of the stuff in the grocery store wouldn't be that fresh or nutritious anyway. So I've decided that I will start sprouting things on our countertops. My mom used to do this Oregon long ago, and I always loved eating the fresh alfalfa sprouts (not to mention watching them grow! I didn't even need a chia pet!) I need to find a source for alfalfa sprout seeds, and I may even try bean sprouts if I feel that ambitious. I would love to have two or three strainers going at once, so I have a tablespoon or so of fresh sprouts to eat every day. The kids will grow up loving them because they won't know any different, and they will think that leftover turkey-cream cheese-cranberry sauce-alfalfa sprout sandwiches are perfectly normal, which I do, because I grew up eating them, whereas Michael did not.
The grand prize of the last week and a half of health food foraging came in the jams and jellies department. We had just finished a jar of blackberry jam, and when shopping for replenishment I was not surprised to find most labels listing massive quantities of artificial sweetenings and preservatives. Now jellies do require a good bit of sugar to jell, but not all that fake stuff! Even the stuff billed as natural was pretty stiffly laced with unpleasantness. So I looked up a recipe for blueberry jam, and cooked up a batch! It was so easy. Not at all daunting, nor as tedious or cumbersome as I'd remembered, stirring for hours and hours over a hot stove while melting down apple peels for the pectin or some such. We still had several ziploc bags of blueberries in our freezer from last summer's catch, which I have been hoarding (and I am determined to stop hoarding things and start enjoying them! But that's a story for another post) but decided it was time to use up. The recipe entailed:
4 cups of blueberries
1/4 cup of sugar (I was amazed at this! Most jelly recipes I remember require about one part sugar to one part fruit in order to jell!)
1/4 cup orange juice (to simplify matters I just bought an orange and squeezed it fresh)
2 packets unflavoured gelatin (nothing sinister about this, as far as I could see; as Michael said, 'pure unvarnished horse's hooves')
I spent maybe half an hour on the whole operation, and ended up with a quart jar of lovely jelled-up blueberry jam. It's very tasty, and we've been enjoying it on pancakes and English muffins for the past week now. I am definitely going to make all our jam from now on, and wish only that blackberries grew as profusely here as they did in Oregon.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
How I'm feeling today
'We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.' ~ 2 Corinthians 4:8
It's discouraging, to be sure, but I suppose it could have been worse. There have been elections much more victorious-feeling than this and others far more bleak and grim. This is about what we were all expecting, anyway, despite that valiant spark of hope that springs eternal in the heart of man.
It's discouraging, to be sure, but I suppose it could have been worse. There have been elections much more victorious-feeling than this and others far more bleak and grim. This is about what we were all expecting, anyway, despite that valiant spark of hope that springs eternal in the heart of man.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Guy Fawkes Day!
Remember, remember, the 5th of November-
Gunpowder, treason and plot;
I see no reason why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.
~English nursery rhyme
Go out and light a bonfire! Maybe even burn a modern-day terrorist in effigy!
Gunpowder, treason and plot;
I see no reason why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.
~English nursery rhyme
Go out and light a bonfire! Maybe even burn a modern-day terrorist in effigy!
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