CURED!

Big news.
J went to a REAL doctor, at Hopkins.

It is not food. It is most likely polyps. He is eating everything now and there are no ill effects from it. We are all thrilled.

I have even been cooking again. Here is a stew from the"A new Way to Cook' book.

2 cans chickpeas drained, 2 chopped onions, two med. Butternut squashes, peeled and cut in to half-inch cubes. 3/4 cup water or apple cider.
Salt, pepper, cilantro

Cook onions on really low in some olive oil for about 20 minutes. Throw in everything else but the cilantro and cook until the squash is soft, but not completely mushy. Throw in cilantro and eat.

Oh my yumminess. And filling.
Thanks for reading,
-Anne

Power Tooth

J amazes me with his maturity and intellect every day. Now 3 years old, he went to get his second filling just the other day. he had one at 20 months by the most evil dentist in the world, who didn't let me go back with him, and didn't bother to tell me ahead of time. New Dentist is far superior, and even let J sit in my lap for the procedure. J was nervous, and quiet, and even started to cry a little. But he kept his mouth open, and listened, and was very, very brave. He was still and followed the dentists instructions very well. And at the end, he got a little plastic car, and that somehow made it all better.

He is also getting one cold after another. I suspect it's from Gerstung gymnastics class, as I'm sure they're not washing all that padding between every class. Also, he definitely spends much more time playing with other children than ever before in his life, so I guess he was going to eventually get sick. The only downside is I'm not sure if tonight's GI mess (no blood, though), was from illness or an unknown food source. The only different thing he had was red pepper hummus, but he's been ok with that before, and I read the ingredients first. He didn't even eat that much of it, so I'm putting my money on illness.

Here's counting down one more week until his GI specialist appointment. Can't wait!

Thanks for reading,
-Anne

How NOT to cook a fish

Last year, I found a recipe in a summer issue of Bon Appetit for whole fish cooked in salt. We used Rockfish, one of my favorites, and it was not only delicious, but provided an excellent photo opportunity of my little one helping me cook.

The basic idea is you mix about 5 lbs of kosher salt with 5 or 6 egg whites, then put the salt in an oven dish, lay in the fish, who are gutted and scaled, and then cover it completely with the rest of the salt. It cooks at 400F for 20 minutes, then after ten minutes you bash the salt off with a hammer and take the amazing fish out.

I love cooking things whole, and was pleased to find such an easy recipe that seemed fancy. You stuff the cavity with a lemon slice or two, some thyme and parsley before you cook it. Fabu.

This week, I tried it again, only two REALLY important things were different. The most important is I only had two eggs. I add water and olive oil to create a more pasty feel, but as I ended up making the salt mixture in two batches, there was NO egg in the top layer of salt. It didn't crust up, so the fish was just covered in salt, instead of breaking neatly away. Secondly, I have no idea what kind of fish I had. The store said "Sea Bass" which is a close relative of, or possibly the same thing as, a Rockfish, but I think either I picked the wrong ones, or they lied. It was gross and undercooked, although my poor starving husband ate some. J helped make it, and really like the salt, but wisely wouldn't touch the fish.

Next time, I will follow the directions. Sometimes I can fudge it, but apparently, this was not one of those times.

Yikes. Thanks for reading,
-Anne

Fruit Strike!

I swear my next post will be about food, not poop. Bear with me.

This kid is on an all-out fruit strike. He'll eat bananas, but that's it. I have been giving him "Naked" juice that's like a smoothie with the seeds remved (no dairy, of course). He won't drink homemade smoothie anymore. He also refused homemade popsicle. Too dang smart.

Other than that, he's been fairly healthy, not counting the birthday-cake episode a week ago. I let him have a small peice, and an hour later The Mess was backl. He recovered pretty quickly, though, and had has these miraculously poop-shaped poops.

I've been adding flax seeds to his sandwiches, becasue I am sneaky. I've also discovered he likes baby broccoli, and there's always squash and sweet potatos. I am so looking forward to getting the answers to his puzzle. I'm no good at waiting for results, but then again, who is?

More when the mood strikes me,
-Anne

A New road

Pardon my absence. I had an outpatient procedure Monday that has left me basically useless for a week. I'm fine, however, and have been enjoying my husband waiting on us hand and foot.

In other news, I got the results of J's bloodwork, and he has 2 mrkers for celiac, whatever that means. The parasite tests aren't done yet, but he now has to see a pediatric GI, and then get MORE blood tests, and then a gluten-free diet, and then more tests to see if the gluten-free diet made a differnence.

So, I'm really glad we switched peds, and really glad that we're going to find SOMETHING out about all this. He's been doing pretty well, removed from the dairy, egg, nuts, fish and most soy and corn for about three weeks now. But still with a little of the mess.

So that's all the news. Hopefully my brain will work soon and I'll tell you all about our adventures in unschooling. Like how J got an agricultural/ nutrition lesson last night by shucking corn with Daddy. If I took a picture, it would have been a documented "class". Yay!

Thanks for reading,
-Anne

The Dig

Our new pediatrician is great.

He's very laid back, but with exactly the appropriate amount of concern. Everyone in the office is wonderful.

We went on Tuesday, and began a round of tests to rule out everything. Three Serocult cards (poo smear), two parasite bottles (poo dig), and three tubes of blood later, all we have to do now is wait. I've never been so excited to pick through J's poo. It was a little difficult, because the bloody bits are important to include, yet they like to slip off the stick. All this while the boy is hopping around next to me, saying, "I can't see! I can't see!"

He was a trooper with the bloodwork, and cried while they did it, but didn't fight. Afterwards, he was very upset that his band-aid only stayed on for a while.

We went to the mall to find green sneakers for him, a request he had made this morning, and found NOTHING. So, after two hours of searching online, all we could find were these.

I think they're pretty cute, even though they have a Boston Celtics logo on them. I really wanted low-top Chucks in Kelly Green, but alas, they are not available in Toddler 8 (unless YOU have a secret shoe store you want to share.) Ss now he can clash his Mexico soccer ball (green) with his Celtics shoes.

I think a little boy who has been to the doctor twice in two days deserves all the green sneakers his little heart desires, don't you?

Cheers,
-Anne

Miracle milk

Greetings, oh forgotten ones.

I have been experimenting with different milks for J, and have settled on Oat Milk. It's LOADED with fiber, which helps counteract the low-fat diet he has due to the no dairy y thing, and tastes great even without vanilla flavoring. I decided to take him off soymilk, partially because of the whole phytoestrogen debate, and also because I heard it was hard to digest. I wanted to give his little tummy a chance to heal, so I've been giving him really easy food.

I also think he's feeling the need for a simple diet, too, because all he wants to eat are cheerios, bananas, and sandwiches. I switched from almond butter to sunflower butter today, thinking maybe to avoid the whole nut family for a while. I think it tastes much closer to "nutty" than the almond stuff is, and is a little cheaper, too, which is nice.

I tried hemp milk for a few days, but was just too weirded out by the extreme greasiness of it. It tasted pretty good, but crazy expensive, like 4 bucks a box.

On top of that, we finally got a new pediatrician! Hooray! I had a terrible time contacting our old one while overseas, mostly because all hone calls go to an off-site answering center. I need a pediatrician's office where they can see the guy. The old one was a good ped, but his office SUCKED. I had SO many problems with them, that in the end, it wasn't worth it.

That's about it for now. We go to the new guy on Tuesday, so I'll give an update after the visit.

Thanks for reading,
Anne

Just keep nursing

There a few notes I'd like to share about those early weeks. As educated and informed as I was, there were still a few things about nursing a newborn that I wish I'd known.

The very first, and the first thing I share with other new mothers or mothers-to-be, is that it is PERFECTLY NORMAL for your newborn (and I mean up to 3 months) to want to nurse almost constantly. This does not mean something is wrong with your supply. Is the baby peeing? Then he's fine, and your supply is fine. Just keep nursing. Your breasts are not just food for him. They are warmth and comfort. They help him get all that sleep his tiny baby body needs. They relax him. They are his center in a freaky, freaky world where he spends more than half his time, on average, physically separated from his mother, whom he hasn't realized is a separate person.

Physiologically, he has a teensy tummy, and a liquid diet processes quite quickly through it, as it should. And he is growing at an astonishing rate, so of course he wants to eat all the time. That "every three hours" crap is for formula-fed babies, who are trying to digest cows/soy milk, which their tummies are not designed to accept. Just keep nursing

Physiologically for the mother, your boobs have to figure out how much this critter needs. That takes almost two months to get into a flow (ha ha). Give yourself and your baby a break. Just keep nursing.

Second, sometimes your baby is just thirsty. Breast milk starts with a thinner flow, then after a few minutes of nursing changes to a thicker, more fatty liquid. He might just need a tasty beverage. Get yourself one, too.

And third, you cannot overfeed a baby. He'll just barf it back up if he needs to, or refuse the breast. You're not going to make him overweight. I actually knew this, but thought it was important enough to share here.

Cosleeping is tremendously helpful to the nursing relationship. I wish I hadn't been so afraid to sleep with my boy when he was small. Check out DrSears.com for tips on cosleeping safely. If you're really nervous, buy a cosleeper. I can't believe I got up, went and got the baby, sat up, nursed, then put him back, often unsuccessfully, and stumbled back to bed. TOTALLY not going through all that next time.

I think those were my important notes for the early weeks. Thanks again for reading,
-Anne

Hooray For Boobies! Part 2

So where were we?

I brought my giant baby home from the hospital, with post-caesarian instructions not to walk up stairs of carry more than ten pounds. They handed me a ten-pound baby while saying this. In my home, the bathroom was on the second floor, and there was NO WAY I could live in a bedroom for a month.

But back to the nursing. This kid was a fantastic nurser. Even in the early weeks, he would actually unlatch if his latch wasn't right, and try again. During the day, we nursed so constantly, there were only about 30 minute breaks from the end of one to the start of another. Each time he did both sides, about 15 minutes each side, but I stopped counting and trusted him after the first week or so. Sometimes it was 20 minutes, and he'd have a three-boober, left, right, left. Sometimes only three minutes a side and then done. The forty-minutes session was always the norm for us.

Nights were a little tougher, trying to get him to stay awake long enough to have a complete meal. There was certainly NO problem waking him at first, as he slept in 90-minute sections all night long, but he would fall asleep after the first side, and I would change his diaper to get him woken up enough for the second side. My big "startle the baby' trick was to spit in his ear. Gross, I know, but required very little energy from me, and I had very little energy for almost two years.

The first six weeks, it stung every time he latched on, which is well within the range of normal. This is one reason so many women give up so quickly. The nerves are getting used to the sensation and need time to adjust. That's why they tell you to switch the position the baby is nursing in every time. I did that for about two weeks, then figured we'd nurse in the most comfortable position for both of us, the cradle hold. The "football hold", where baby's feet are behind you (can you say, awkward) is apparently for women who have a lot of abdominal pain after the c-section. Mine hurt, but not enough to change the baby's position. That’s' what the Boppy was for. I think the doctor's advice had not caught up with the wonderful nursing pillows out there, or I'm just super tough.

He nursed, and nursed, and I ate and ate. People would say, "Oh, is he eating again?" And I'd say, "No, he's still eating." It was all one big meal for him.

We nursed everywhere. The Water Taxi, in front of the coffee shop almost every day, on airplanes, at friend's houses, basically wherever we were. I never tried to cover him with a blanket, even after he got older and got distractible, popping on and off. Once we nursed while walking down the street. He was in his sling, and hadn't taken a nap at all that day.

As far as pumping, I think it's a great thing, and highly recommend it, but I hated it, and did it probably 10 times. It wasn't a supply issue, as my boy just grew and grew, but I just didn’t feel like pumping on top of nursing all the time. I also had no good reason, and not-so-secretly loved having a reason to keep my angel near me at all times.

He had a pumped bottle at 8 weeks, which he had no problem with, but other than those two times in the hospital, formula never crossed his lips. I never felt the need to give him formula so he would sleep better or anything like that, because I knew too much. Formula does not equal sleep, and anyway, what else did I have to do? I wasn't working, had no other children, and meeting his needs is my job, so why not do it? Plus, I think I was too tired to think about it, and it was always easy just to pop a boob in him.

I don’t have any big problem with formula, I just didn’t see the point for us. Plus it's smelly and a hassle. I never minded taking my shirt off in public before, why stop now? We never used a pacifier either, although I tried about three times. He didn't take it at all, and threw up the third time. Again, no point in our family. He was also one of those babies that just eats and eats, and in turn, allowed me to eat and eat.

Overall, things went really well in the breastfeeding area. He didn't sleep, but I always figured he was just too busy.

The next installment will cover the rest of the first year, and the challenges of nursing an acrobat.
Thank for reading,
-Anne

Too hot to write

It's 90 degrees in Baltimore, and the hottest space in the house is in front of the computer. I think it's time to start lobbying for my own laptop. We have one that 7 years old, but it's slow and heavy and wants to burn your legs off. Plus it seems to be full. I figure between the homeschooling, food research, and my celebrity news addiction, there's no way we can survive much longer on one and a half Macs. Am I being ridiculous? I don’t think so. Throw in the pinched nerve in my back and I think we've got a winner.

I've been getting REALLY good at making J's food before we go out. It usually takes about half an hour, but it's worth it to know exactly what’s going in him. Now, if I could figure out what exactly is making him sick, we'd be ok. I brought champagne grapes, cooked carrots and broccoli, and safe graham crackers today to SalsaPolkaPalooza at the Creative Alliance in Highlandtown, and the boy ended up eating a blue snoball, a lollipop, and a donut (I Know, SUPER bad, but I was wearing down). He had a loose poo about 30 minute after the donut, but he'd had one this morning, too, so was it the donut? Who knows? I think it really is time to go elimination for a few weeks. I'll stop talking about it now, and just do it. I think I've been feeling like going on the ED is really admitting he has a problem with food, and that it's serious. I love food so much, I can barely stand the thought of not having huge portions of it in my life.

Speaking of which, time for the "after J is asleep" meal. Chococake!

Thanks for reading,
-Anne

It never ends

We had gone for almost a week without any food reactions, but one showed up again today. He's been egg, dairy and peanut-free since we got home, so I'm hoping it's just residual. They say it can take up to three weeks for the body to clear the reactions, and he didn't go yesterday, so maybe the extra stress made something happen.

I get so tired of chasing this stuff down, that I feel like I'm not feeding a child, I'm managing his poop. I might have said that here before; I'll have to check. I sometimes wonder if it''s even worth it trying to narrow stuff down. It's not an allergy, so it won't kill him to have this stuff, but it sure is disturbing to see blood where it isn't suppossed to be. It also seems to be random sometimes, like when he had pizza and was totally fine.

I may need to go for the Top Eight Elimination diet, removing soy, milk, corn, wheat, fish, peanuts, treenuts, and eggs, and then build from there. I'm pretty confident that he's OK with wheat, just because he eats Cheerios all the time and bread and stuff, but the others are still open for discussion, I suppose. I'll have to try it out.

We ate out tonight, at The Wharf Rat, a pub around the corner. They have good fries there, and a jukebox that James really likes. They're totally empty when we go in usually, so he can wander around and dance undisturbed. There's also a phone booth from England, and he likes to go inside and pretend it's his house. I had the oysters, and then remembered they're out of season. You're only suppossed to eat oysters in months that have an "r" in them. May through August are the off season. I'm not sure if it's a holdover form the days befroe refrigeration, or something to do with replenishing the stock, but I usually stick to it.

Now, I must attend to the bath, and scrub the dirt from my kid's toes. He's singing, "It's raining, it's pouring" which means all the water is about to end up on the floor.

Thanks for reading,
Anne

Snack time!

We are back in Baltimore! Even the sun shines brighter here.

Of course I went to Whole Foods twice the first week, but we're still living mainly on the food leftover from the people who stayed here. Lots of frozen turkey burgers and pasta with marinara.

No big cooking news yet, although I made sausage tonight, which neither of us ate. I'm guessing it was not the best thing to cook in 90-degree weather.

J is doing GREAT foodwise. No reactions for almost a week now. I'm purifying my child. Myself, however, I'm on a bit of a food frenzy.

After the boy goes to sleep, I always want to snack, even if I'm not hungry. I want pizza and chocolate and all kinds of dairy products. I bought some frozen chocolate pudding cakes from Trader Joe's, and I'm currently eating Nana's Cocina Tortilla Chips. Yummers.

We bought a Tripp Trapp for the boy, and I was really excited about it. I read all these reviews that say how their child will sit for an hour in it, they eat more, etc. So far, I've had it two days, and that's not quite the case in our house yet. I've noticed he doesn't spend the entire meal kicking the table, so at least there's that. I'm still trying to adjust the footrest to the right height, though. He seems to like putting his legs under him, instead of flat on the footrest, which makes it tricky. He also wants to sit sideways in the chair, which freaks me out because there's no armrest, and the seatbelt is basicaly worthless. My sister in law has it for her 6 month old, who is sitting by herself just fine, and she says the baby is held in fine by the support bar, which is sold seperately. I removed the beslt, and managed to destroy one of the componets while doing so. Oops.

I never bought a highchair for J, mostly due to space issues. We had a clip-on chair from about 7 months until he was a little over a year, and then one of those "tushie cooshie" boosters. They're soft, and don't need to be strapped on to the table or the child. It worked ok, but I like that the Tripp Trapp can be adjusted so specifically. He's at the right height of the table now, instead of having to eat with his elbows flared out like he's trying to do the chicken dance. I think he'll get used to it in a few days.

I'm giving in to the Papa John's urge now, and going downstairs to order pizza.

Thanks for reading,
-Anne

Hiatus

We are flying out tomorrow, a good 20 hours of travel door to door, so it will be a few days before I'm back again. Look for the overexcited post about organic, sugar-free, nitrate-free turkey slices.

Thanks for reading,
-Anne

Pizza time!

Now, in the last few days of my stay here, I finally got around to making pizza.

I even used the brick yeast, that previously frightened me, and now I think I'll never use dried yeast again. This stuff was amazing.

I brought from Baltimore a simple dough recipe from Bon Appetit Magazine, one of the two cooking magazines I subscribe to. I get Gourmet, too, but that was an accident. The same publisher puts out gourmet and Bon Appetit, and I got confused when ordering my subscription. However, for $24 USD for 2 years, it's worth it to have a little fanciness.

Anyway, the recipe called for a food processor, I have no idea why, but of course I just used my hands. Who mixes salt, sugar and flour with a food processor?

The yeast came in a 100-gram block, about the size of half a deck of cards. I put half the brick in some hot tap water, about 110 degrees, and mushed it and stirred it a little then let it dissolve while I mixed the dry stuff. I started with 2 cups of flour, one teaspoon salt and one teaspoon sugar. I added 3 tablespoons olive oil. I mushed/dissolved the last bit of yeast, and started adding the mixture. It became quickly apparent that I had WAY too much liquid for the dough, and I ended up adding about another cup of flour, but didn't change any of the other ingredients.

And then the magic happened. I swear the dough started to rise while I was kneading it. J didn't feel like kneading right then, having been mesmerized by BBC children's TV. I worked the dough for about 5 minutes, and then set in a glass bowl. The bowl was speared in olive oil, and I pout a plastic bag smeared with oil over top of it. You can use plastic wrap, of course, but I like to recycle.

At home I have a special ceramic bowl from my mother-in-law that I use. I usually set the bowl in the sink in some warm water, but I was pretty sure I didn't need the extra rising help.

This thing grew massive. After half an hour, I had to take it out and put it in my roasting pan to give it more room. It was crazy. 30 minutes later, it had at least tripled in size, so we punched it down, J's favorite part, and wrapped in the oil-smeared bag. Then we put it in a plastic box with a lid, although not an airtight one, and put it in the fridge. When I opened the fridge a little later, it was STILL rising, and had popped the lid off the box. I continued to punch it throughout the day to keep it from taking over the kitchen.

I took a few pieces off and cooked them, just to see if it could work, and while they didn’t taste like anything to me, they rose in the oven, and seemed promising.

At about 6 pm, we took the dough out of the fridge, and unwrapped it on the counter. We split it in half, and J helped me roll it out. This was after "driving" the rolling pin all over the floor for ten minutes, chasing me with the steamroller. I guess I should have washed it off. Oops.

I realized there was no way H would have the time or energy to prepare another pizza with the leftover dough, so I told one of his coworkers to preheat their oven so we could make two.

We rolled out the dough pretty thin, then put it on an oiled piece of aluminum foil on the thick oven tray. J poked most o the holes in the crust with a fork, and spread around the sauce. Instead of making the sauce, like I planned, I experimented with a canned sauce by an Italian company called Muzzi. It was great. Not too salty, not too garlicky. J sprinkled the cheese from a bag labeled "pizza cheese". H had used this product to improve frozen pizzas before, and found it acceptable.

We put "Vikingas" salami on it, and added a few sprinkles of Parmesan to the top. Then into the oven it went. I thin it was at about 200C, but our oven is so wacky here, who really knows? It took about 12 minutes to cook, and was wonderful. H said, "You made real pizza!" He was pretty happy.

I let J eat some, and luckily he didn't want to eat eight pieces, so hopefully he'll be able to process it ok. He had a cheese stick two days ago, and I haven’t seen a reaction from that yet. He also seems OK with Parmesan and sometimes cheddar. We'll see.

The co-worker put olives and onions on his, and had to stick it back in our oven to cook it a little more, just to crispy up the crust. He had grated mozzarella on it, and added garlic too. I liked ours better, but everyone was happy.

This went so well, that I think I prefer it to frozen pizza. We usually get Freschetta Brick Oven at home, but this really didn't take that much longer to make. And it's about a million times healthier, with no additives and whatnot. I also didn't get that "too salty" feeling that I usually get from pizza.

Here's to a homemade pizza that tastes good. Huzzah!
Thanks for reading,
-Anne

Roast beef - I think

I continue to use my undependable oven, and it continues to amaze me.

Last night J and I had some ghetto minestrone, basically tomato soup with pasta and a can of corn thrown in. The tomato soup was awful, and so the whole meal was ruined. He ate some of it, but I only had two bites. Luckily, I knew I was trying roast beef, again, for H later.

It seems the oven is just completely lying about the temperature, so I put it at 225C, hoping that would do the trick. It cooked for about an hour, and there was enough edible parts t it for both H and I to have dinner, along with sandwich leftovers. I didn't even try to do anything with it, just put olive oil in the pan, and sprinkled salt on it. I added some tiny potatoes around the edges. These soaked in a little olive oil and salt, unpeeled and uncut, for about 15 minutes before I put them in the pan. Everything turned out ok.

Be careful when prepping roast vegetables, as too much olive oil will make your food soggy, not crispy. I use the olive oil and salt combo for almost every vegetable I roast. Carrots, potatoes, sweet potato "fries."

Oh! I found sweet potatoes! There were only five of them, but I bought two for my last week here. I am so excited. I am making fries with them tonight.

We're supposed to go to the Ambassador's house again, but I'm not sure if I'm up to it. I'd have to go to the bank machine for cab money, J has been saying his tummy hurts, and it's all crappy and I don't want to. Plus, I know we'll be stuck inside, which doesn't usually work out too well for me, as I'm never sure what to do with myself. Clearly I'm looking for excuses.

Also, we made friends with a Bulgarian family 2 doors down in the hotel, and they have three little boys, and I don't have to get cab fare. I'm so awful and disloyal.

This post is full of random disconnected thoughts. I tried to post yesterday, but it was even more scattered than this one. It's just not in me today, and I apologize.

I made some undercooked beets the other day, but they worked wonderfully as stamps for J. He made a beet and blueberry piece. Lots of fun with food. I was afraid it would start to smell rotten if I kept it, but my mother in law says she used to use veggies at the Montessori preschool for art and it was never a problem.

I am always proud of myself when I can reuse things for art, like cardboard tubes (we made a forest!) or colorful plastic bags and sticks (streamers!). J is so swamped with toys, that I worry about his ability to imagine things will go away. He seems OK so far, though.

I will stop torturing you with bad writing now. Thanks for slogging through.
-Anne

Hooray for Boobies! Part 1

Howdy doo. Since nothing exciting is happening on the culinary front, I thought I'd chat about our nursing experience, as I alluded to in a previous post.

Before I had J, I knew I wanted to breastfeed. I was more concerned about that aspect of early motherhood than anything else, including labor. I had heard so much about how it was awful; and painful and all the bad things, but very little about the good things. Still, it just seemed more convenient for the baby, and me and of course, better for him health wise. I was determined to do everything I could to make it work.

As his due date closed in on us, I had decided I would nurse for about 18 months, if that worked out for us. When people asked how long we would nurse, I would say, "Until he can ask for it", which I figured was at least a year. I took the breastfeeding course, which consisted of me and the teacher and a stuffed version of a breast that she could flip inside out. It was a revelation that the milk comes out of many tiny holes, not just one. Everything else I had read about somewhere.

I left the class with a "breastfeeding checklist" which consisted of a list of about 50 things that could go wrong while nursing. I wondered how I was supposed to remember all that while sleep deprived. I realized later it was more of a troubleshooting guide, rather than a checklist, and that made me feel better.

One thing we talked about was pumping a bottle for a night feeding. She explained the reality of the "daddy feeds the baby in the middle of the night" scenario. He would not wake up when the baby cried; I would have to wake him. Then I would already be awake, and listening to the baby scream while daddy bumbled around in the kitchen, warming up the bottle, finding the right pieces, etc. So not only would I be awake anyway, but my boobs would have been responding to the baby, and getting engorged, so I might as well nurse him anyway. This may sound pushy, but I think she sensed that the only reason I had the whole "bottle for daddy" idea was because I thought there would be something wrong with me if I didn't give him a bottle, so she said just what I needed to hear.

One of the great myths about nursing is that it's so natural that you and your baby will figure it out on your own. That is a load of crap. Witness the history of the midwife and duola. They were not only concerned with labor and childbirth, but also breastfeeding and infant care. It takes a village, from the beginning. It's a shame that so many women don't seek help at the FIRST sign of trouble, and just wait until they're so miserable they give up, and feel like failures for being unable to properly execute a natural function. A real shame for both mothers and babies.

I had J by emergency c-section, as he just got stuck due to his enormousness, and the first thing the people at the hospital did was give him a bottle of formula. They said his blood sugar was low. No kidding, I hadn't eaten in 24 hours. I was a little upset, but I was also having trouble. I had a fever and my heart rate wouldn't come down for a while, so I think they were trying to do the best for both of us. Anyway, they brought him to me, and I think it took 24 hours for him to nurse well. This is typical, as they're not really up to speed yet. Some people rail against medically assisted births for the sleepy babies they produce, but I loved me the epidural. I would have had it in my 7th month if they would have let me.

A lactation consultant came and manhandled me, showing me the "mash the burger" technique for getting it into the bay's mouth, and basically made me feel like an idiot. I complained to the staff, and they sent the lovely CO, the lactation consultant who taught my class, and she made everything all better. It wasn't her words, it was her manner. When I told her the baby had given me a blister (!) on one side, she was genuinely sympathetic, and showed me how to adjust his latch. I never got a blister again after that first day.

Once J got alert (and never slept again), he nursed CONSTANTLY. So much, in fact, that after the second day, and another three-hour session because my milk hadn't come in, I let him go to the nursery. They gave him a bottle, which they said he sucked right down, and I got a few hours rest for the first time in three days. I told them to bring him back when he was hungry again. Wouldn't you know it, by the time they brought him back, my milk had come in. We were much happier after that. It seems a little rest what all we needed.

Four days after he was born, I took my 10lb baby home. He had gained 10 ounces in the hospital, even after losing almost a pound the first day. That sounds like a lot, but a ten percent drop is normal, and with a baby that's 9lbs 6 ounces, that's well within the normal range.

The next installment will cover the first 8 weeks or so of our nursing relationship. Stay tuned, and thanks for reading.
-Anne

Back on the grid

It's amazing how crippled I feel without Internet access. Our hotel changed servers, and we're just now getting back on. It's been three or four days, and we still can't get the wireless to work. Someone's looking at it later today, so maybe I'll be off the cord soon.

Not too much exciting going on. I think I'm psychologically home already, and have given up trying to live here. We get on the plane in 7 days, and I can't wait! We are sad about leaving H behind, but not enough to stay longer. J has been wonderful this past week, making new friends with the Belgian boys who are going to be two apartments down from us starting tomorrow. The family has a 3.5-year-old, 2.5-year-old, and 5-month-old, all boys. I'm impressed, simply because the mother isn't a raving lunatic.

I wanted to have a baby sooner than it looks like we're going to, and so did H. I wanted them to be about 3 years apart, but certain health considerations are delaying our next baby. I wanted them to be old enough to play together, but not so close together that I was a lunatic. Hopefully, J and phantom baby will still be emotionally close; it will just be a different dynamic than I have with my brother, who is 2.5 years older than me.

I actually speak to my brother's wife more than my brother, mostly because of the whole mommy thing, but also because she's just home more. I think I feel differently about my brother, who I always adored, because now I see him as a husband and father, and not just the bossy guy in my house. He's more human to me as an adult, and has lost his mythic status. Now I can laugh with him about the children, and other things.

That's all for now. It's day three of torrential downpours, so we are going to the big grocery store for excitement. We walked around in the rain the first day, but I'm kind of over it now. Bleach.

Thanks for reading,
-Anne

Socialization!

Howdy all,
Another whole weekend for H, so less time to blog. I missed you all, I swear.

We've had a fabulous few days, so I feel pretty good about everything going on in our lives. Friday we went again to the Ambassador's house, and both her sons were there, a 5-year-old and a 3-year-old. The boys were charming and friendly, and another child, a 4-year-old girl, was delightful, too. It was so lovely, we ended up staying for four hours. I meant to leave after two, as I'm pretty sure I haven't been to a friend's house for that long in years, but the other mother said she'd give us a ride home, and the children were playing so well, that we just stayed.

The day began in the basement/playroom, but after about an hour, we all moved outside, to their giant yard, which I've mentioned before. For most of the time, the other three children played in a group, with J doing his own thing, occasionally checking in with the other children or one of the mothers. The older boy was very kind to J, making him a Lego train when we first got there, and encouraging him to play with them. The other children managed to get out a small pool and fill it with warm tap water, as it was too cold for the hose. They had a plastic slide and had water slide fun for about 30 minutes, while J collected leaves in a wheelbarrow.

He finally decided he wanted to slide too, but went once and proclaimed it too cold. I was shivering in a sweater, but the other three naked children seemed impervious to cold. After everyone dried off and dressed, we all ate lunch together. The children ate at a separate table, which was so nice, as the mothers got to eat with BOTH hands! Then the kids played an imprisonment game, with J, and they all 4 built a fire from the woodpile. No real flames of course.

The children went back downstairs and played by themselves for another hour after this, which was just amazing to me. No screaming, no fights, no yelling for mommy. We stayed in the kitchen and had coffee. The Ambassador's wife said sometimes it just takes a longer stretch of time for the kids to get used to each other, something I'm definitely going to pass on to my friends at home. Also, I think that there were 4 of them, all of slightly different ages, might have made a difference, too. All in all, a success.

The next day, Saturday, J and I went to the park at the bottom of the hill and played in the grass for four hours. About half of that he did his own thing while I laid down and read. I'm re-reading "Perfect Madness; Motherhood in the Age of Anxiety" which I'm really enjoying. She is kind of down on extended breastfeeding, but it's possible she just never met anyone who enjoyed nursing a child older than 3 months old. I think most of the women she met thought their child would be ruined for life if they didn't nurse them for at least a year. We just nursed until we didn’t need it anymore, but more on that some other time.

Anyway, very nice to see my boy entertained by other children, and by himself and some sticks. I love watching him become who he is.
Thanks for reading,
-Anne

Dirt Box

Before I get started, I'd like to announce that I will now be spell checking my posts. i know you're excited, because I am. I already went back and fixed two of them, but it's kind of tedious, so I suppose we'll leave the earlier ones as proof that my writing has evolved.

Now on to bigger things.

I am torn, as J gets older, about the idea of him playing by himself. I've never been one of those mothers who thinks I have to "enrich" her child's day with stimulating activities. In fact, the first year of his life we basically just walked around the neighborhood. I miss the slingin' days. We went to a Waldorf Class when he was about a year old, but it was a huge disaster. The class was two hours long, and he inevitably would either want to nurse the whole time, or start to freak out towards the end as it was interfering with his sleepy time. Note I did not say nap time, because the boy did not nap predictably until he was 14 months old, but I digress. Anyway, it was bad times all around.

Then we had a little music class at about the 2 year mark, because he was getting really interested in music and singing, and that didn’t work out too well either. It would be a battle to keep him awake for the 25-minute drive to class, and he would DEFINITELY fall asleep on the way home. Unfortunately, until VERY recently, like the last month, I've never been able to have a successful transfer while asleep. So lots of sitting in the car reading 30-year-old National Geographics. You know, magazines no one would break in to my car to steal.

Also, the class was run by the Peabody institute, and for the zillion dollars and prestige, I thought I would at least get a teacher who got dressed before coming to work. I'm so awful and judgemental about these things sometimes, but she seriously looked like she rolled out of bed and straight into the classroom. And she did that weird goofy clown thing that some people think kids like. My kid ran from her, and I couldn't stand her either. And she couldn’t hold a tune. To cinch it, J wanted to just run around the classroom the whole time. The room was pretty big, and we all know dogs and children react to the size of the space they're in. So with three weeks left in the class, we never went back.

He had a nice time there, but it just wasn't worth it for me. I'm also not concerned about preparing him for school, as I'm planning on unschooling/ homeschooling. And, if that falls through, and he has to go to school, it’s not going to take him that long to learn to raise his hand and stand in line for the bathroom. This kid is WAY used to standing in lines forever. Airport, anyone?

Back in Baltimore, we're in a wonderful parent-child Montessori class, 90 minutes, one day a week, and it is perfect for J. They don't make the kids share, and his type of intense concentration is respected. Next session he'll be one of the older kids there, but I think it will be a good thing for him.

As far as the whole playing by himself thing, which is where I got started, he's actually been really good about it since he was about two. It literally happened overnight. One day he was screaming at the top of his lungs if I went to pee, the next, 90 minutes of action-packed car races on the couch, complete with mechanics and birds and rockets and airplanes.

Since we've been here, it's not going as well. I assume it's partly the weirdness of being away, partly the lonliness, and partly my guilt over his lack of suitable playmates. SO when he asks for me to play cars and trucks with him, if I'm genuinely not doing anything that can't wait, then I play with him. If he's already playing, I always leave him alone. It's so much fun to listen to his stories, and also I like to encourage his concentration. That's one of the things I like about Montessori.

Lately I've been saying no to do computer stuff, or house stuff, or even read or lay down, and I’m always surprised that he whines a bit and then descends into his little world. Which always involves rockets and friendly bears. He played on the balcony with a box of dirt and some treasure for 90 minutes the other day.

It's not that I don’t like playing, but it's really hard for me to focus on the millionth game of, "cars and trucks" when we're in the house and there's other stuff I could be doing. Or sometimes it's just plain boring playing with a preschooler all day.

He is fantastic about helping with the laundry and dishes and cooking, and I think that stuff is just as important as "playing" with him. I read somewhere, I think a Waldorf handout, that it's helpful not to think, "Oh, I have all this STUFF to do and THEN I can play with my child," because really, it's not the toys your kid likes, it's being with you. Also, if you present housework as a big boring chore, you end up with battles the rest of your life over cleaning and such. This may happen anyway, but my kid really enjoys being a crane picking up the small things. And crayons are rockets, and the cars vroom into the garage at night.

I find an activity, like art or building things with Legos, is easier for me than open-ended stuff, but I wish I could be better at that sometimes, because I don't want him to think I don't like being with him. I'll even tell him that I like being with him, and that he's fun to be around, because he really is. I hope my actions show it, too. Today he said his toots were not him, but majic butt aliens. How funny is that?

So I guess he's getting older, and I, like every other mother in the world, am just trying to keep up.

That's it for now. Thanks for reading,
-Anne

The Oven Hates Me

An attempt at biscuits this morning leads me to believe that it's not me, it's the oven. AGAIN with the weird gluey center. I even used real milk, because I like to live on the edge, and it made no difference.

I think it might be the water. The water here is chock full of minerals. It leaves white powder on everything it touches, so maybe it's hard to cook with rock water.

Or maybe it's the margarine versus butter. I'm just trying to keep the dairy to a minimum. I think I will do the next batch with real butter and see if that makes a difference. Our bread turned out OK, though, so maybe it's something else entirely.

We made plain biscuits, no buttermilk. Two cups flour, four teaspoons baking powder, 1/2 teaspoon salt, finger mixed with 3 tablespoons of butter, like you would with pastry. Then add 3/4 cup of milk, roll out to an inch thick, and cook at 350 for 15 minutes.

The weird biscuits are still edible, however, thanks to the blueberry jam we made at the same time. They have wild blueberries here, and they're perfect for making jam. They're really tiny and sweet, and even blue on the inside. All we did was boil equal parts sugar and blueberries, and viola! Jam! It's actually a little runny, so is behaving more like syrup, but I'm not hearing any complaints from the naked biscuit-eater on the couch. This was my first time making jam, and I think I should have let it cook longer before transferring it into jars, but it's still delicious. I highly recommend making your own jam, if it's this easy. I'm guessing it won't keep for 10 years in a jar, but we are eating the heck out of some jam these days.

In other news, J has been sleeping until 6 again, so maybe he's over the 3am thing. Hooray! I've learned not to get too used to good sleep, though. He seems to do better with no nap, although the afternoons require a little more management. Last night he slept from 6:30pm to 5:45 am, so that's pretty good. He did get in with me for a while, but then went back to his own mattress after some head rubbing.

We are going home in 2 1/2 weeks, which is very exciting for both of us. I really REALLY miss my dog. This morning, I was thinking about things I need to do, mostly people I want to visit when I get back, and couldn’t figure out how to see them all. I had FORGOTTEN that I have a car. Sheesh.

Strangely, when I realized the other day that it was three more weeks, not four, I got hysterical, because I'm going to miss my husband so much. He'll be here another month before coming home, and then home for a month before heading off on another job. Luckily, his next job is on an island where they speak English, so he’ll have a very nice time. It will almost be like a vacation for him.

Speaking of his work, we are going to visit him on set today, and pick our very own wild blueberries and strawberries. So hopefully I'll get some pictures from that.

That's it for now. Not too much exciting, but thanks for reading anyway,
-Anne

Storming the Castle

Roly Mo, what a long day!

I had been planning all week to take J to Trakai, a city with a giant old castle about 30 km from Vilnius. Sunday, was H's only day off, and I like to get J and I out on adventures on his days off so he can sleep. I was planning to take the train both ways, after a successful train ride to Kaunas for the zoo, and was really looking forward to it. Here's a picture of it from their tourism website.

What is it they say, life is what happens when you're making other plans?

To begin with, J woke at three am for the second day in a row. I have no idea what this is about, but I'm guessing it's either an intellectual growth spurt, or the whole nighttime peeing thing still. I don't really care, but I'm kind of tired of it.

Then, I checked the weather and it called for Thunderstorms all day. I figured, thunderstorms pass quickly, and the weather forecast is always wrong over here, so I packed our things. I checked the train schedule, and our choices were to leave at 8 am and be ther 90 minutes before the castle even opened, or wait until 1:30 and deal with a crabby kid and being rushed in the afternoon. I couldn't even get the bus schedule to load online, but the receptionist at our hotel/apartments called some unknown bus gurus, and wrote the outbound schedule down, which was roughly every 20 minutes from the station.

So at 9:30, stroller raincover and handwritten schedule in hand, J and I went to the bus station. We tried to buy tickets for Trakai, and the ticket lady said we had to go to information. Information said it was a holiday, apprently for summer solstice, and the next bus was in an hour. She said I had to wait two minutes to buy the ticket. I was confused until I realized I was really waiting for the ticket-selling girl to come back. The ticket girl started to sell me a ticket for an earlier bus, and I was worried about getting confused, but after much conversation between info girl and ticket girl, it was decided I could take the earlier bus. Apparently, the reason info girl didn't offer it to me as a choice is I had to buy the ticket on the bus. Why would that even matter?

J was very excited to get on the bus, never having been on one, and we got decent seats by an open window in the back, and the Quinny Zapp stowed nicely under the seats. We even had Americans sitting in front of us, although I didn't talk to them until later.

Things went pretty smoothly, and for the low price of about 50 cents USD, we were on our way. The bus stopped a few times picking up people, and the only truly smelly person near us at least only rode for about 20 minutes. A man got on with a rolled up carpet and sat right behind us. I quickly realized the carpet was soaked in cat pee. Yum. And then he had a sneezing fit, which sprayed all over my neck. Now, I'm not a huge germophobe, but I don't share drinks and I use a paper towel to open public restroom doors on my way out. So being sneezed on by Cat Pee Man made me shudder.

J fell asleep and had a nice 40-minute nap on the way there, and the American women in fron of me helped me get all our stuff out. It was a 2km walk to the castles, and we had fun stopping along the way to throw rocks in the water. We also saw a swan family. Swans are gigantic. I had no idea.

We toured the castle, and J was mostly excited by the cannons and rocks in the courtyard. I thought he barely noticed the castle, but at bedtime he told H all about the different things we saw. H had filmed there a few years ago, and I had visited set, so I took a few shots of J in some of the locations. Like, "Daddy assassinated a monk here!"

We tried to get a sailboat , with a skipper of course, to go out on the lake, but even though I offered to pay the full group rate, the guy in charge refused to let us go out. I have no idea why, since the entire time I was there not a single one of his boats was rented. Maybe it's a front for Russian Mafia money.

We had lunch by the lake, and J was very friendly with the other children around us, just picking up things and naming them. "Apple! Baby! Fork!" He was trying to teach them English. How cute.

I planned on taking the train back, to avoid any rush hour traffic, but right as we got to the bus station, to walk past it, a HUGE downpour started and I thought we'd better stick to the bus. Like I said, it was a holiday, and I didn't want to walk the ten minutes to the train station in a thunderstorm, have there be no train, and then have to walk back and have missed the bus.

The bus came a few minutes later, packed full of people, and I realized we would have to stand all the way home, about an hour's drive in a bus. So we got in a cab, while J screamed "I want to take the bus!" intending to just go to the train station. We ended up taking it all the way home, but it was so worth it.

The taxi driver told us he had a brother who lived in Florida, and then put in a disco 80's DVD for us to watch. Very entertaining. They have these driver's on-board DVD players here, and I'm not sure if it's for the driver to watch or the passengers, but it's always entertaining.

Overall a great day, and J slept until 6 this morning, so I'm feeling like an entirely new person. Now it's time to shower while J watches Bits and Bobs.

Thanks for reading,
Anne

Bread Success

Remember the flat bread? Well, we made another loaf from the dry mix I mentioned. And guess what? It worked! We only did one rise, and it was nice and chewey and good.

We ate the entire loaf in one day. This was partially due to my son's three-day sandwich binge. He's over it now, but it seemed every time I turned around, I was making him another sandwich. Luckily, as I may have mentioned before, meat with jam makes a pretty good sandwich, and I used the leftover chicken from Milk Chicken night in his sandwiches. I will write about Milk Chicken as soon as I find the fancy picture I took of some of the ingredients. It may be in my home computer, so that could be a while.

Other than the Eating Machine, things have been pretty quiet. J and I had a discussion about pushing after we went to the zoo and another kid finally pushed him back. I told him instead of pushing, he can wait for his turn, or go do something else. We were at the playground the day after that, and he started to get upset that other children were climbing on the slide he used. He started to go up to them, but then caught himself and sid, "I will wait my turn."

That worked for a few minutes, but then he got impatient as the iother kids kept sliding, and J is not quite as fast as other kids his age. He went up to a younger child and put his arms on eiothre side of the kid, without touching him, and made his frustrated, "grrrrrr" noise. It was pretty funny, and overall, I think he did well. It's nice to know he is listening about that kind of stuff.

We've been doing lots of painting and drawing, and yesterday, he drew this.

He says it's his butt. Obviously, we've been a little butt-centric lately. Now he wants me to read to him every time he goes, specifically "Toot and Puddle: Top of the World". On the last page it says, "Are you getting pooped?" which is, of course, hysterical.

Now I must return to the leftover chicken, sizzling in Marks and SPencer BBQ marinade. That and sweet corn. Mmmmmm.
Thanks for reading,
Anne

No Whole Foods for Miles

I actually let my child eat canned ham the other day. On purpose.

I don't rememeber if I've ever had it, but H was really excited about it when he saw it in Marks and Spencer, so I picked up a can. For some reason, I thought he was excited becase it was good food. Apparently not. I forgot that he loves ChefBoyArDee and bacon sandwhiches. I like salad. I opened the can to make James a sandwich,a nd nearly threw up at the gelatinous glob reveled before me. I scraped off most of the goo and made a sandwich anyway, becasue hey, it's protein, and we've got to balance the Cheerios somehow.

I cannot wait to get back to Baltimore and go to Whole Foods. It's not so much that there's no decent food here, as far as meat, but the cuts are so different that it's a crapshoot whenever you buy it. Even my mother-in-law, who is a great cook, said she made some lamb the other night and it wasthe worst thing she had ever made, due to the unrecognizable cut, or some other x factor. So it's not just me.

The other problems with food here are the substandard refrigeration and the scattered nature of the groceries. They're real big on saving energy here, which is good, but the grocery store smells like nearly rotted meat whenever you step to the back. They don't have the refrigeration cranked nearly as high as American supermarkets. The hotel refrigerator is pretty lousy too. The milk often goes bad before it's even opened. I gave a friend a homemade popsicle, and it molded IN THE FREEZER. What's that all about?

We have to walk everywhere, or take a taxi, and the food H likes is scattered across the city. The tea he likes in in one place, the store with a good bread selection in another, the good dairy in yet another. Having to go to the store every day with a toddler makes it a challenge, but certainly having a babysitter has relieved some of that burden. I still have to buy milk every single day. Luckily, I can usually squeeze that in after a trip to the playground.

OK, J is screaming for juice. I have to go help him rememeber how to say, "please", which he of course says to everyone but me.
Thanks for reading,
Anne

British Ambasador Mint

J and I went to the British AMbassador's house for a playdate with his son, who is about 2 months older, and the usual 4 inches shorter. They had a huge house, their own policeman, and a gigantic herb garden which was overgrown with mint. As I am a helpful person, and also needed mint for my father-in-law's mint julep maker, I offered to take some off her hands.

Why do they call these things playdates? At this age, it's still both mothers trying to manage the children half the time, and playing with them the other half. There were perhaps 5 minutes in 90 where the children played together, or just weren't begging us to play with them or fighting.

It's no big secret that we mothers do this so we can hang out with each other, not the kids, and I suppose as they get older, and break through the "parrallel play" stage, it will take me less than four days to have one conversation.

The hardest thing for me about J's social interactions is that because he is so verbal and focused, when a child DOES want to play with him, he yells at them to go away, or asks me to "grab him out of here away from me." I am inclined to let him fight his own battles, and don't really mind if the kids push each other and scream a bit, but it's so hard to gauge how another mother will take it.

Luckily, J defers to me, although he has begun pushing the other children and taking things from them. I actually think this is sort of a good thing. He is developing the independence to stand up for himself, and not just immediately turn to me. When he pushes or grabs, I "reset" the situation, remind him to talk to the other child, and work through it that way. I try to give him the words that will help him, stuff like,"You really want to play with that toy, but E is using it right now. What else could you play with?", but this of course doesn't always go smoothly. Sometimes he tries to ask the other child for the toy, but unfortunately, the other kids don't have the verbal skills he does, and he tends to get blank stares.

I do not force my boy to share if at all possible. I tell him if he wants to bring toys, he has to share the,m, but he if he thinks he can't share, he needs to leave them at home. Often, he'll say, "I'd better bring two cars for sharing, " but usually opts to go to the playground empty-handed. I just don't think it's a reasonable expectation for an almost 3 year-old, but he tends to share with children he's known for a while, just not new kids. This makes perfect sense to me. And he shares fine with adults.

But back to the food. I took the giant mint home and gave half of it to my inlaws. Then I made a marinade for pork chops which turned out delicious, so I am back on the horse after the steak disaster. To make a mint marinade for pork chops, take half a cup of fresh mint, 8 tablespoons of olive oil, 1 tablespoon of red wine vinegar, one peeled garlic clove, a teaspoon of sugar, and a half teaspoon salt, and process. Then marinade the chops in the fridge for up to four hours.

Cook the chops on medium high for about 5 or 6 minutes each side, depending on the thickness. I served this with a quick salad of lettuce, tomatos, onions and cucumbers. Good food for a hot night, and H was very happy with it.

I feel like I'm beginning to figure out the tricks to the cooking environment here. For example, I bought the chops bone-in, but cut off the fat and the bone so they would fit in the cooking area of the pan.

I miss my stove.

Tonight J and I had Marks and Spencer Minestrone, and H and I had prociutto and cheesesticks. I didn't eat any cheesesticks, but had WAY too much prociutto, so now I feel ill and dehydrated. If I drink anything, though, I'll be up all night peeing, and I'm already pooped. J was up for three hours in the middle of the night, after waking to pee and not being able to get back to sleep. When will THAT end..

That's it for now. Thanks for reading.
-Anne

I Heart Soup

My goodness it's hard to write while having a conversation with the two-year-old in the next room about the diving fireman in the sink. You try it.

Last night we made a soup, which is one of my favorite things to eat. I like cream soups in the winter, and broth-based soups in the summer. I am a big fan of bullion as an quick flavor enhancer, but I don't think it's always necessary. My personal secret to soup is to add some olive oil, and then parmesan cheese once it's served. I see my mother-in-law do this, and everything she cooks is amazing, so why not copy her. If I know I'm making enough soup that some will get frozen, I keep the olive oil out of it until it's served. I actually don't know if this makes a difference, but I figure since I add it when it's reheated, I don't need extra.

To start nearly any soup, vegetable, chicken, beef, bean, I sautee some chopped onions and celery and carrotts in olive oil for about 5 minutes. Not very much, like half of each vegetable, finely diced. Last night we made a bean and vegetable soup. We soaked the beans all day, some red kidney beans and navy beans, and cut up the vegetables while the beans were cooking. I used chicken bullion for flavoring, and actually didn't do the onion sautee thing, as I felt like a bland soup last night.

J cut the zuchinni and some broccoli, and we added potatos and carrotts too. The whole thing cooked for about an hour, maybe a little more. We added the carrotts first, then the potatos, then broccoli, and zuchinni about three minutes before serving. Apprently, I made some kind of horrible timing mistake, where the beans were undercooked and the vegetables were overcooked. Luckily, J likes his food mushy, and he actually ate some broccoli. He spit out the one red bean he tasted, though, but I understood. It was a bit yucky.

I turned the burned back on to try and save it, so now the beans are cooked, and the veggies have completely disintigrated. I'm going to let J take the potato masher and mash it up, then I'm going to try to find a way to bread and fry the resulting sludge, but I'm not sure it will work. At least he'll have fun mashing. I tried to get him to use the masher on our homemade playdoh, but it's too stiff. The soup disaster will be just right. After all, it's halfway there.

That's about it for today. Here's the fish bouquet I promised, of smoked fish in the Maxima. Thanks for reading.
-Anne

Squash and Squishing

There's been no real cooking after the steak disaster, but we have been sort of drained by the heat, I think. Plus I haven't been to the store recently to get more than cucumbers and milk. I like my cucumbers with lemon, dill and nothing else. I think I just really like lemon. In college, I would sit in front of the tv with a cut up head of iceberg lettuce and a lemon and eat it like chips so I could have a snack. I like lemon on my fish, in my water, and in most things I cook. Yay for citrus in general around here.

But tonight, I shall tell you about squash. I mentioned before there was no good squash here, beyond yellow and green summere squash, but one appeared at the store last time I went.

My favorite is butternut squash in all it's many forms, but especially in soup. I haven't made the soup myself yet, but I'm never dissapointed when I get it in a restaurant. Here, they do not have butternut, but they do have this beauty, which I made for J and I recently.

I think it's a small pumpkin, but whatever it is, the taste runs more to sweet than squashy, adn I add honey and margarine for J when he eats it and it's wonderful.

To roast a medium squash for mashing or soups, you simply wash the outside, stab it good five or six times in the side facing up, and then put in in a 375 oven for about and hour. After it cools, cut it in half, scoop out the seeds, and spoon the flesh into a bowl for mashing. If you find an hour isn't enough, you can out the halves back in the oven flesh side up until it suits your needs. I have to do this about half the time. It's really easy, absolutely packed with nutrients and vitamins and stuff, and easy to freeze half the mash for later use.

I've tried to roast the seeds, but I found it tedius. It's definitely one of those things best left to the David's people. I've always liked the taste of Pumpkin seeds, and will continue to roast them on Halloween, but any other time, or maybe just any other squash, it's just not worth it. Also, in my old age I've developed TMJ, so crunching seeds is no longer an every day activity for me.

J's still struggling with the potty sensations, but at least it's going in the potty, which I STILL need to break. He's now waking in the night to pee, and it just sings and sings "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" until you wash and dry it. And the Baby Bjorn people, makers of an OK carrier, but the world's best potty (The Big Potty), have come out with a green model, which I will be purchasing for J as soon as we arrive in the states. He loves green.

I hope you're all having a fun weekend. We certainly are. We're going to the HyperMaxima tomorrow, and I promise to take a picture of the smoked Fish Bouquets. Stay tuned.
Thanks for reading,
Anne

Vinegar Beef

So I didn't set out to make Vinegar Beef, but it sure did end up that way. I found arecognizable cut of meat, a T-Bone, at the MAxima, which is Lithuanian Wal-Mart, including the smell, and brought two of them home yesterday morning. I was looking for a quick marinade that involved cabernet, as I have a bottle of it just for cooking. I found a recipe that was a marinade for grilled steaks, but I figured, hey, a marinade is a marinade, how different could it be?

My first clue that this might not have been such a good idea was it called for a cup of cabernet. In the states, I use burgundy as my red cooking wine and pinot grigio as my standard white. Here, my choice was the Bulgarian or Californian wine sold at the Rimi, a 7-eleven type near the apartments. I figured I'd go with what I knew. Everything I've cooked with this wine has been substandard, but I honestly don't know if it's the other ingredients, the manner of cooking, or what. I'm pretty confident now that it's the wine. It stinks like old vinegar, and after 2 hours in this marinade, there was no going back on the pickling if the t-bones.

I had to cut the bones out before marinading them, because even though I have a large enough pan for two t-bones, the heating element on the stove is so small that you have to cycle the meat or whatever through the center of the pan to get it to heat. This makes for the worst possible reduced sauces, as the center will be boiling, and the ousides will be lukewarm, but I like a challenge. Plus I think someone told me once that a strip steak, my favorite part, is just a t-bone without the T. I should look that up.

So into the marinade, from Food Network recipe for grilled steak and mushrooms. Cup of cabernet, 1/4 cup each of olive oil and balsamic vinegar, some basil and oregano, and smashed garlic and finely chopped onions. Sounds like a winner, right? SImeple, easy, and stuff you probably already have in the house. But turned out very nasty.

It also didn't help that the steak was overcooked. I have a fear of the meat here, as my father-in-law got ill from an "already cooked" chicken the first week or so he was here, so while I usually take the steaks off after about 7 min each side on medium heat, or a 6 out of 9, these were in a smidge longer. plus the weird having to scoot them around constantly probably changed things, too, as I had to turn down the heat to make sure I didn't burn the stuff not directly over the burner.

I do have a good pan here, a Bratpfanne enamelled cast iron, but I think nothing can help this stove.

Anyway, H ate it, and I just stuck to the mushrooms. I saved the leftovers, just to torture myself, and am pondering throwing them in with some beans to make a stew. I think I'll just stick to oven dishes for the meats from now on. Except Pork Chops, which seem to work out OK.

And J is feeling better, although he says he doesn't want to do #2 because it feels weird. I agree.
Thanks for reading,
Anne

Encopresis

Do you know what this is? Because I sure do now. Go ahead and google it.
J has been a champ with the potty, giving warning for pees, holding it until the appropriate time, all that good stuff. Maybe he felt that the pressure was off or something, I don't know. Mr. Perfectionist, however, got himself good and blocked up from holding the poo in. He wants so badly to get it right, even though there's NO pressure from us. He spent two days running to the potty every 30 minutes for poo. Nothing was coming out, and on the second day, the screaming began. He'd be all hunched over, saying, "I'm afraid!" and crying. He stained 6 pairs of underwear, all due to leakage, not missed signals. The poor guy told H , "Sometimes I don;t know what to do about pooping and peeing."

I wish I could get him to relax about it. I think, though, the worst is over, but I did buy baby food stewed prunes to put on his pancakes tomorrow just in case. And he's going to have straight soymilk, no more rice milk, from now on. They have it in powdered form here, all vitamin-fortified and stuff. There was no staining or BM today, so I'm glad his body got a rest.
Other than that, he's slept poorly the last few days, so I'm not exactly flowing with ideas. He woke up at 3 am to go pee, which is great, but then never got back to sleep. I think I'll disable the little song his potty plays, to help keep it nice and quiet for him when he pees at night.

So I'm off to break the potty, and then bed.
More when I'm rested, thanks for hanging in there.
-Anne

Eating out in Lithuania

It's only been three days , but I feel like it's been an eternity since I wrote. H had both days off this weekend, so I didn't have an opportunity to write. We all had some fun together, and an actual good restarant experience Saturday night.

O and A, both players, came over Saturday night to watch J so H and I could go out. J has had his Nana put him to bed before, no problem, but these girls, being all young and not having children, were unsuccessful, and said whenever they told him it was time to read a book he cried. I talked to him on the phone and told him to read with them until I got home. They spent the time making him an intricate Lego playground, though, so it was a good time for all.

He said he was afraid if he went to sleep I wouldn't come back. When we got home, he pushed past his father to get to me, and as soon as the girls left, he said, "Let's go in my room so I can go to sleep." I'm sure he was a little confused becasue A usually comes in the daytime, but it was no big deal. H only has two whole weekends off per month, and the alternate weeks he only gets Sunday off, so it's not like it's something that would happen every week. I think next time we'll go out earlier and come home earlier, though. I was totally bored by 8:30, not to mention my feet still hurt from the crazy boots I wore.

As far as our dinner, we went to a marginally reccommended Indian restaurant, and I was quite pleased with the meal, although the speed was on par with other restaurants around here. It's completely noraml here to be the only people in the restaurant and have it take and hour for the food to come from the time you ordered it. In that hour, you will have to be satisfied with your tiny, room temperature mineral water that tastes like dirty hair to keep you from starving. Because the waitress will not check on you. Ever. The food will also be cold when it gets there, and you will have exactly one cocktail napkin with which to clean yourself and your food-snorgling toddler.

If you are lucky, the food will be what you ordered, but have no resemblance to the picture on the menu, or to previous dishes of the same name that you have had in a real country. See my earlier post about pizza. And they will bring your child's food 10 minutes after they bring yours. Who does that? Not to mention their national dish, Cepelinai, which is pork in some kind of boiled potato dumpling, looks like this, and tastes just like it looks.

At the restaurant, Sue's Indian, I had the tomato mushroom soup, cooked with a lamb base, I beleive. It was well balanced, expertly spiced, and delicious. The chicken kabob I ordered was perfectly cooked. The waiter asked us if we wanted ice, and didn't even have to write down our orders. So hooray for comparatively good service.

Even in the States, we don't eat out much. I've found that I can cook food that tastes better at home, and if I have some time to myself or just with mu husband, I often don't want to waste the time on a marginal meal. I'm a big fan of the Whole Foods salad bar when I'm out by myself. I'm also at a point wheer I can taste what's wrong with the food, like a freezerburnt fish I once had at a place called blu, or the perrenial favorite, overcooked, gluey pasta with wilted, overcooked vegetables. Available everywhere.

But with all that, we had a nice time, and it was fun to get out. J even had a good time with his team, and I'm sure thay appreciated the opportunity for more cash.
That's it for now. Thanks for reading.
-Anne

Popcorn for dinner

I saved the culinary energy for H tonight tonight, so that instead of handing him a plate while he sits in front of the computer, we could actually eat together. At home, he's very good at sitting down and not reading or anythign and being with us, although I admit I had to train him not to bring magazines to the table. Nothing says, "I don't want to be here," more than watching TV or reading at the table. I think it's acceptable at breakfast, and sometimes lunch, but that's just us.

So J and I had crushed FinnCrisp Sesame Rounds on the couch while watching Polish TV, and microwave popcorn at the dinner table. He asked for chopsticks, because we always eat popcorn with chopsticks at home. It keeps the grease from getting all over your fingers. Works well for chips and such, too. We actually learned this froma Make-Up girl ( I know, I'm sexist) that H worked with a few years back. It's pretty cool to see a two year old gain chopstick proficiency, although I'm sure millions of Chinese children do it, too.

H and I had a green salad of iceberg, tomatos, cucumbers, onions, and a vinagarette, and pork chops with an orange/soy sauce on them. The chops and sauce were loosely based on a recipe from "The Working Stiff Cookbook".

I can't get about half the ingredients, but the basic idea is to mix a half cup OJ with two tablespoons oil, sesame in the book, olive here, and add one tablespoon soy sauce, then reduce it after you've cooked the chops. You also add ginger, which I could get but forgot, and something else, but I don't remember.

To cook the chops, you have to start with nice thick ones, at least an inch, but thicker is better, and then brown them for one minute on each side on high heat. Then you flip them again, turn the heat to meduim (although I prefer more of a medium low) and cover. Cook four or five more minutes on each side, and let rest on a plate. The book says to then drain the extra grease, but that's up to you, as I find there's really not that much grease, and if you're cooking with cast iron or enameled cast iron, or even heavy gauge stainless, this is a bit awkward, and somewhat dangerous.

Anyway, turn the heat to high, pour the premixed sauce in, and let it reduce, which usually happens very quickly. I double the sauce recipie, because it gives me more time to keep it from turning instantly to glue. As usual, I don't really do much exact measuring with this, but go with what feels comfortable to you. This is one of my husband's favorites, and he is always happy to have pork chop night.

I quite like this cookbook, and it was the first cookbook I bought for myself. I got it becasue it had good, easy, and quick recipies for two people, and a few for four. The Thai fish recipe is disgusting, don't even try. But I did get my first good rosemary potatos from this, although now I prefer a lavender/rosemary mixture instead of just rosemary and salt.

As a side note, J has decided he wants to wear underwear all the time, but still poos in them. Good thing he's got lots. He'll take my hand and say, "We have to go do something in the bathroom," and take me there. Then he says, "Get the wipes".

Thanks for reading,
Anne

Where do we pee?

After a good five weeks or so of potty attempts, my frustration level has exceeded J's ability to use the potty, so I think I'm going to tone it back down. He still has no problem going, he just won't stop what he's doing to do it, or admit it. I realized I was getting frustrated not becasue he wasn't going, but because I was feeling like a failure. He, of course, doesn't really care, and I certainly don't want him to think that the potty is all I care about. So from now on, I will ask him at his diaper changes if he wants a diaper or underpants, and we'll go from there.

I think it's complicated by his overall maturity in other areas, especially language. He has the verbal skills of a five year old, and he's also kind of a big kid. Not huge, but about 38 inches and 31 pounds, and so sometimes I expect too much out of him. He is only 2 and a half, after all. And why do I even care about when he potty trains? He's not going to day care or preschool or any place which requires potty training, so why do I care? I think I feel like, as a stay-at-home mother, my child should be more advanced in everything to justify my time with him. I don't get this message from H, but I think in general I am a defensive person, even before I am questioned about anything, and this is one way it comes out.

I need to focus on what he CAN do. For example, as of this morning, he can cut all the way through a small peice of paper with scissors, he can peel and stick his own stickers, and he can trace lines pretty decently. He also has amazing narrative abilities, and remembers absolutely everything we tell him, including me saying "your stupid train". He thought that was it's proper name, and called it, "My stupid train" all day. Great.

He can also remember about 20 different songs, about 20 nursery ryhmes, and can crack an egg without getting any shell in the bowl. He can identify several different kinds of birds and maybe 10 different flowers, and is generally the most amazing person I've ever met. He can wear diapers forever if he wants. Soon enough he'll be able to change them himself.

And he can type his first name on the computer. Sweet.
Thanks for reading,
-Anne

Marinara time

I know, I know, I promised this about a week ago. But it's worth the wait, really.

I never had any real desire to make my own pasta sauce, being perfectly happy with what came in jars. Newman's Own Bombolina was the winner in our house, mostly becasue H preferred it. I'm partial to a sauce with mushrooms, but he doesn't like mushrooms. I'd rather not hear about it than fight for mushrooms, so I probably haven't had sauce with mushrooms in years.

Back to the sauce-making. So we were fine with jarred, but the last time we were in Eastern Europe, we discovered they have a completely different idea of what should go on noodles and pizza. The sauce is somehow both sweeter and more peppery than we're used to. They also are still figuring out pizza, often throwing things like corn and ham and sardines and goat cheese together, so I was motivated to make a pizza that tasted good.

The recipe I am using is somewhat based on the one in "A New Way To Cook"

I tend to triple this recipe, then freeze it in one meal-portions for later use.

Get your big pot out. Put 2 tablespoons olive oil in it and turn the heat to a medium lowish. Chop up a medium red onion and a few cloves of garlic. I only use two, but some people might like more. Fry them in the hot oil for about six minutes.

Open one 28 oz can of peeled plum tomatos, then seed and chop them. I use my hands to seed them. I don't even know of any other way. Empty one 28 oz can of tomato puree, and half a can of tomato paste into the pot, along with the seeded chopped tomatos. Stir. Then I add a few teaspoons basil, a few of oregano, two teaspoons sugar, and about half a cup of red wine. A cabernet or a burgundy works just fine for this. Add one teaspoon of salt, and then just simmer at a low heat until dinnertime. I often adjust the spices as I'm cooking, so I apologize for not having exact measurements.

I did make this completely from scratch one time, peeling and seeding my own plum tomatos, no puree or anything. It took FOREVER to reduce the tomatos to a sauce, and just was not worth it to me.The above will taste delightful in about 30 minutes of simmering.

One nice thing I've noticed from this is I don't get the swollen tounge from the tomatos when I make my own sauce. Eating fresh tomatos swells my tounge and makes it even bleed sometimes, and so did eating jarred sauce. Even though I'm using canned tomatos and canned puree, I don't have this efffect with the homemade stuff.

Make sure you use Italian Plum tomatos grown in Italy. And your puree should have one or two ingredients, tomatos and salt. If you can find it without salt, even better. I can't remember if that's possible, because I've been here too long, but I'll find out when I get home.

Eggs and NotEggs

I'm fairly confident that J has an intolerance to eggs as well as dairy. I tested him a few days ago, and sure enough, he reacted. He seems to be ok with the tiny amounts in baked goods, however, but I wasn't sure of this until this week, so we had been putting other things in our recipies.
We had egg-free-dairy free pancakes a few times, which were very, very dense, but that can be remedied with additional rice milk. I actually prefer my pancakes thinner than most, so I'm used to adding milk as I cook them. I'm a huge fan of crepes, but since they have to sit for 30 minutes before you cook them, I don't make them too much for me and the boy. He has a hard enough time waiting for food to cook and cool down, so extra waiting is out of the question.

Anyway, while we were egg-free, I found a list of things that could subsitute for eggs ina recipie. As they don't have the pacakged egg-subs here, I chose half a mashed banana and a half teaspoon of baking powder as our sub in a zucchinni muffin recipie. It mixed ok, poured ok, but then it never really cooked. They were in the oven for an HOUR before they even came close to setting. It was like glue muffins. They never browned, and I was going to let them cool and then throw them away. J, however, saw me taking them out of the muffin tin (which is actually silicone), and asked to eat one. I checked the inside, and they had finally set, sort of, so I let him have one. He ate it, and had two more over the next two days, until I finally threw them away. Weird.

We're going to make zuchinni-oat muffins today, and we'll be using real egg. He had three chocolate chip cookies, made with real egg and dark chocolate, but rice milk not cow, and he was fine, so I think a muffin here or there with 1/12th of an egg in it might be OK. I'll keep an eye on it, though, and let you know.

UPDATE; So the oat zucchinni muffins have baked, taking ten minutes longer than the recipe said, but I think it's something to do with the super-havy-duty baking sheet that has to sit under the silicone muffin tin. They still seem REALLY sturdy to me, but taste pretty good. ANd easy to make, so here's the recipe.

One cup oats, instant is fine. One and a half cups flour, 2 and a half teaspoons baking powder, half teaspoon salt, half cup sugar. Mix all that together. In a seperate bowl, mix one lightly beaten egg, one cup milk of your choosing, one quarter cup melted margarine. Then mix the two bowls together gently, adding a half to one cup shredded, skin on, squeezed zucchini. BAke at 425 for about 20 minutes. Done when a knife or toothpick comes out clean.

A note about margarine: In the states, this would never be allowed in my house, but as there is no almond butter here, it's filling a calorie niche for J. I always prefer to cook with real butter, becasue even though it's full of fat, it tastes better and doesn't have trans fats. My father-in-law tells me they make margarine without trans fats now, but I hope I can avoid it all together. As alwasy, I prefer to eat food, not chemicals. The margarine I'm using, Rama, has no trans fats, so that's good.

J eats it with bread and jam, and of course on his muffins. I'll get soy butter when we get back to the states, or I may try a little butter, and see how he does.

O the Player

J has had a fever for two days, so pardon the break. We didn't get much sleep Tuesday night, and I think I'm still tired from it. However, the babysitter is here, so I will take advantage of her last half hour to write to all my adoring fans.

At home, I am with J full time. It's awesome. I feel like I've been waiting my whole life to be with him, and he amazes me every day with who he is.He's a thoughtful, kind, bossy little boy, and the most fun I have ever had. He occasionally stays an hour or two with the neighbors, or with H or the in-laws if I have something to do, but nothing regular. It was, however, very exciting the first time he went to bed for someone else, sometime in February. We stopped nursing to sleep in January, when he was 2 years, 4 months, and so, Date Night arrived! Anyway, I don't have any regular help at home, but I get what I need when I need it as far as time to myself.

Here, a different story. H and the inlaws are working all the time, and I don't know many people, and those I do can't speak much English. So, five weeks into a three-month stay, I got O. One of H's friends was mugged and knocked out in the street, and O was one of the three girls who picked him up and got him to the hospital. She's also an out-of-work preschool teacher, although here they call it kindergarten, and speaks more English than I do Lithuanian. This is her second time, and she's brought a friend each time with better English. J is having great fun, telling me to go away while they play, and climbing all over her. When I told him about her coming over, and how she would play with him and take him for his stroller walk ( I dare not call it a nap walk), he decided she was "O the player". And she is.

In the states, I could never afford this much help. It's about a third the cost here. I would prefer she not have the TV on the entire time they're in the house, but it's only 7 more weeks, and besides, the shows they watch are 30-year-old Russian cartoons, so hey, he's getting even MORE international flavor in his life. As it is, I don't really care that much. The shows are all little forest creatures and stop-action puppets, so it's the opposite of cartoon network, which he is not allowed to watch.

I'm not as much a stickler for TV as some of my friends. He usually watches about 2 hours total a day at home, usually less, sometimes more, depending, but that's what Noggin's for. He also will ask to turn it off, or say, "I'm done watching my show," a lot, so I'm not concerned.

So that's it for today. I almost have a nanny. I feel so middle-class.

-Anne