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
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
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
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
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
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
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
Saturday, July 14, 2007
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
Thanks for reading,
-Anne
Thursday, July 12, 2007
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
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
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
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
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
Sunday, July 8, 2007
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
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
Friday, July 6, 2007
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
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
Sunday, July 1, 2007
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
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
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