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.
Friday, December 29, 2006
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!
Monday, October 30, 2006
I've decided...
...that the third trimester figure is my favourite look of pregnancy (with the possible exception of the first trimester figure, which is virtually identical to the normal figure look). The second trimester is my favourite feel of pregnancy. If I could feel as good as I do during the second trimester, and look like the third trimester (or, even better, the first - but I'm merely being hypothetical here, not unrealistic), then I'd like pregnancy a whole lot more.
The reason I like this look is that it's nice to look honest-to-goodness pregnant, thus finally eradicating the hesitant almost-questions and unspoken wonderings of whether the thickening waist simply betokens the fact that I've been putting on weight (or, horrors, still struggling to lose it from last time around!) Second trimester is just an awkward transitional phase, when I'm sort of outgrowing my regular clothes but can still wear them, only to look stout and - well, spilling out of my clothes. It's too soon for maternity clothes, though, and when I did try to wear them early in the second trimester I just felt silly.
I must point out that the only reason I like this look is because of the nice maternity fashions of the day. They are generally cute, trendy, and flattering, and do their best to make one feel happy to be pregnant. If I had to wear the gunnysacks and tents of even a decade ago, I'm sure I'd feel much less happy.
The reason I like this look is that it's nice to look honest-to-goodness pregnant, thus finally eradicating the hesitant almost-questions and unspoken wonderings of whether the thickening waist simply betokens the fact that I've been putting on weight (or, horrors, still struggling to lose it from last time around!) Second trimester is just an awkward transitional phase, when I'm sort of outgrowing my regular clothes but can still wear them, only to look stout and - well, spilling out of my clothes. It's too soon for maternity clothes, though, and when I did try to wear them early in the second trimester I just felt silly.
I must point out that the only reason I like this look is because of the nice maternity fashions of the day. They are generally cute, trendy, and flattering, and do their best to make one feel happy to be pregnant. If I had to wear the gunnysacks and tents of even a decade ago, I'm sure I'd feel much less happy.
Food for thought
Recently I've found myself evaluating our diet and considering 1) how seriously to take concerns about health; 2) to what extent our food budget should accommodate improving the quality of the food we eat. I've gamely avoided the organics fad up til now, figuring that the dire effects of pesticides et al in the food are most likely exaggerated, very inconsequential, and certainly not worth the horrific additional expense to avoid. I've shied away from the nutty health movement, which I would (perhaps unfairly) summarise as consisting of soy milk, alfalfa sprouts, and flax seed, not for the cost reason but for the taste reason. I don't want a healthy lifestyle to be bland and boring. (There is an ongoing angst over the whole wheat flour issue, but that's a matter for another day.)
But when faced with the issue of quality over cheapness, I find myself at a real crossroads. It seems that I have been hearing from so many sources recently about the danger of high fructose corn syrup and certain fats (I really need to do a lot of research on fats and understand the difference between polyunsaturated and mono-, trans, hydrogenated, and so on) that I'm really beginning to contemplate what it would mean to cut these things out of our diet.
This website that I just discovered pointed out a very good thing about, for example, cheap peanut butter: look at the list of ingredients. You should be paying for peanuts and (possibly) salt. If your peanut butter is loaded with lard and icing sugar, you're not getting a bargain, no matter how much cheaper the junk stuff is than the natural stuff. After all, if you want to bring down the cost of the peanut butter, would you buy pure peanut butter and add lard and sugar to stretch it when you get home? Of course not. Then why pay to have the store do it for you?
Elsewhere I have read that if the list of ingredients contains words you can't pronounce, you probably shouldn't be eating it. Now that's perhaps a bit more extreme than I'm willing to get at this point (besides, who would know how to pronounce triticale without having heard it before?), but I thought it was an interesting bit of advice, anyway. Intrigued by this new thought process, I looked at the label of the bottle of lemon juice I keep on hand for drinking with hot water and honey to nurse those winter sore throats (so healthy of me, right?). The ingredients were water, lemon juice concentrate (?), and two preservatives. Now, obviously I must have bought this lemon juice because it was the cheapest bottle, and while I hate spending money, I hate getting ripped off even more. If I had wanted watered-down fake lemon juice, I could have bought Gatorade!
Furthermore, it dawned on me that I already make a budget concession for food quality when the driving factor is flavour, not health. We already consume only pure maple syrup, because we vastly prefer the taste to the fake stuff, even though it costs so many times more than Mrs. Butterworths. And we already use real butter for all everyday use and baking, because the taste and the texture is far superior to margarine. I don't even think twice about these 'splurges' in my shopping, because that's what we do and always have done and we take that for granted. I can't even imagine spreading margarine on a slice of bread. Suppose I felt this way about natural peanut butter? Suppose I had grown up preferring the unique texture and thought the packaged store-bought stuff was gross?
In theory, I'm all in favour of quality vs. quantity. I love the idea of savouring one good piece of dark European chocolate and truly appreciating a dessert over carelessly chomping down ten candy bars. I would love for my kids to grow up with a discriminating palate. But can we afford it? If I had grown up eating margarine, and now believed that butter was better for our health, would I bother to make the switch and learn to cultivate a taste for it, or just leave well enough alone? Is puzzlement.
But when faced with the issue of quality over cheapness, I find myself at a real crossroads. It seems that I have been hearing from so many sources recently about the danger of high fructose corn syrup and certain fats (I really need to do a lot of research on fats and understand the difference between polyunsaturated and mono-, trans, hydrogenated, and so on) that I'm really beginning to contemplate what it would mean to cut these things out of our diet.
This website that I just discovered pointed out a very good thing about, for example, cheap peanut butter: look at the list of ingredients. You should be paying for peanuts and (possibly) salt. If your peanut butter is loaded with lard and icing sugar, you're not getting a bargain, no matter how much cheaper the junk stuff is than the natural stuff. After all, if you want to bring down the cost of the peanut butter, would you buy pure peanut butter and add lard and sugar to stretch it when you get home? Of course not. Then why pay to have the store do it for you?
Elsewhere I have read that if the list of ingredients contains words you can't pronounce, you probably shouldn't be eating it. Now that's perhaps a bit more extreme than I'm willing to get at this point (besides, who would know how to pronounce triticale without having heard it before?), but I thought it was an interesting bit of advice, anyway. Intrigued by this new thought process, I looked at the label of the bottle of lemon juice I keep on hand for drinking with hot water and honey to nurse those winter sore throats (so healthy of me, right?). The ingredients were water, lemon juice concentrate (?), and two preservatives. Now, obviously I must have bought this lemon juice because it was the cheapest bottle, and while I hate spending money, I hate getting ripped off even more. If I had wanted watered-down fake lemon juice, I could have bought Gatorade!
Furthermore, it dawned on me that I already make a budget concession for food quality when the driving factor is flavour, not health. We already consume only pure maple syrup, because we vastly prefer the taste to the fake stuff, even though it costs so many times more than Mrs. Butterworths. And we already use real butter for all everyday use and baking, because the taste and the texture is far superior to margarine. I don't even think twice about these 'splurges' in my shopping, because that's what we do and always have done and we take that for granted. I can't even imagine spreading margarine on a slice of bread. Suppose I felt this way about natural peanut butter? Suppose I had grown up preferring the unique texture and thought the packaged store-bought stuff was gross?
In theory, I'm all in favour of quality vs. quantity. I love the idea of savouring one good piece of dark European chocolate and truly appreciating a dessert over carelessly chomping down ten candy bars. I would love for my kids to grow up with a discriminating palate. But can we afford it? If I had grown up eating margarine, and now believed that butter was better for our health, would I bother to make the switch and learn to cultivate a taste for it, or just leave well enough alone? Is puzzlement.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Overheard on the walk
Me: Thanks for pushing the stroller!
Michael: Not a problem. Hey, thanks for holding the Baby!
Michael: Not a problem. Hey, thanks for holding the Baby!
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