Not a mommy blog.

I'm determined that this not become a mommy blog. So. There's this:



Although I haven't done much else besides be a mum for the last 3 months. I am back to being interested in cooking though. I've been making these grain salad things with some regularity. It has several advantages, one being that it uses up CSA vegetables pretty nicely, two, it is generally fairly quick and three, it makes excellent leftovers that Ryan can take to work. Also, it is different every time. Basically, I start with a grain of some variety - usually quinoa or burghul (bulgar wheat for those not familiar with Arabic). Burghul has the distinct advantage of not even needing to be cooked - just soaked. Then I add a variety of things from the fridge. The key is to make it balanced, so I always try to add a protein thing as well as all the vegetables.

Last night, I cooked beets in water and vinegar, roasted some garbanzo beans* and caramelized some leeks/ I tossed that with those with burghul and some chopped up arugula. When I roasted the garbanzo beans, I roasted two very large cloves of garlic, which I mashed up in some olive oil. I added balsamic vinegar and used that to dress everything - although a dressing isn't striclty necessary. Finally I added chopped green pepper - not a bell pepper, but similar, our CSA has a variety of pepper that kicks the crap out of regular old bell peppers but the  name escapes me at the moment.

In the past, I have added nuts, tempeh, spinach, peas, corn or tomato and often I find scraps of leftovers that do nicely. A thing I like to keep in mind is adding different textures as well as flavours. Chopped almonds add a bit of crunch and the roasted garbanzo beans added some crispiness and chewiness - and they are so yummy that it's hard not to eat them before they've gone in the salad. How I do mine is to toss them in oil and pour them on a baking sheet, roasted at 400 F for 20 minutes or so. When they are done, take them out, toss them with salt or paprika or thyme or whatever - even sugar for sweet ones would be nice. They are a yummy snack!

Nappy Bag.

I'm getting more confident with my own decisions regarding Elinor. In the beginning, it feels like everything is this giant whirlwind of overwhelming directions and advice and you're fairly certain you'd better follow it all because otherwise you might kill your baby because you don't know what the hell you are doing. Then you realise that you've made it this far without killing her and that you know her better than any internet blogger or preachy book author, so you can stop panicking so much.

At least that's how it's been for me. That's not to say that internet advice isn't sometimes helpful. Today I googled "diaper bag paring down" because I really hate carrying the diaper bag when I walk places with her. Unfortunately, it was a similar experience to googling "inexpensive wedding ideas" and finding suggestions like, "Consider not having monogrammed napkins."

In other words, I discovered that I've already pared down my diaper bag to the essentials according to most women. My diaper bag contains:

1 diaper cover
1 onesie
1 changing pad
cloth diapers - the number depends on how long I am going to be out
a few disposables
1 blanket
A bag of disposable wipes
a washcloth or two
1 wet bag
1 zip-loc bag
A sun hat (sometimes)
Her jacket (sometimes)
A pair of socks
Wallet (mine)
Phone (also mine)
Keys (also mine)

I do not consider chapstick, makeup, hand sanitizer (if baby wipes work for my baby's bum, then they work for my hands until I can get to a bathroom, should that be a difficulty out in the field) or a first aid kit essential although some people seem to. One blog I looked at had a "before" picture featuring 6 Mister Men books. I can't believe it didn't occur to the author that 6 books was a little ridiculous.

I'm less crazy than I thought

A little over two months ago, I woke up super-itchy and did what I always do and looked up my symptoms on the internet. This is one of the great American past times, I know, and it is one of my past times. I also know that there is a sort of a Godwin's Law for it only for cancer instead of Hitler. If not cancer then something else serious and scary. There was that time I thought I had gout. My persistent fear of necrotising fasciitis. Et cetera. This time however, the awful serious thing the internet told me I had, I actually had. Spooky.

The Eternal Dilemma.

So here's the thing. I need advice, I've spoken to my mother and Casey and I plan to call Annie.

The therapist is encouraging me to really make horses a priority. I think she is trying to get me out of my comfort zone in order to get me to a place where I will be happy. Because I'm not happy: either riding or not riding.

And today I pointed out to her that I've spent my whole life being "patient" whether it was my mother telling me to wait until I was older or waiting for my horse to recover or now, waiting for Ryan to be finished with his PhD. Just waiting for one thing or another to happen before I can get the right horse (one talented enough or at least one that doesn't repeatedly nearly kill me) or at least move forward -properly- and waiting any longer is just heartbreaking to the point of considering quitting all together. I'm fucking 30. I've been waiting for 30 years - or at least 27, I can only remember as far back as age 3.

And I've watched an awful lot of obnoxious people get there first because they are pushier or wealthier than me. The wealthiness - I can't do anything about that, my father was not a neurosurgeon. The pushiness I think is where my therapist is trying to encourage me.

The thing I need advice with:

If I take this job, I will have money for board. I casually suggested a possible lease to Ryan, but I'd really like to just say, "Tony, I have $10,000, find me a jumper prospect for the A/Os". (When I talked to my mother, she said, "Oh but you'd have to wait until you know where you're going to live. Transport is expensive." I forgot that asking my mother for advice is often the opposite of helpful)

But how on earth do I juggle having a baby, working 19hrs a week and then horse ownership? Am I crazy? The possibly job has said that I could bring Elinor to work with me. It can't be impossible, because all those women work full-time and have babies. But I can't pay board and daycare. Is it unbelievably selfish of me to even think of this situation? Why can't I bring myself to talk to Ryan about it properly? Should I just forget the job and ask Ryan if we can borrow money from ourselves to fund 2 years of horse crap?

I can't even begin to organise my thoughts.

Job Offer and Another Thing

Two things:

I've been offered a job! Now I have to decide about whether or not I want to take it. It is at the place I've been volunteering and I would be allowed to bring Elinor with me - it's part-time, 19 hours a week. There are good reasons to take it and good reasons not to.

The other thing:
Yesterday I found out a thing about a friend of mine that is quite surprising. I probably shouldn't go into any more detail than that.

Mock Sorbet

It's been really hot recently. I have been making mock sorbet, which consists of putting frozen fruit in my tiny food processor and adding simple syrup and lemon juice. Or lemonade base (lemony simple syrup). Or lemon juice and confectioner's sugar. I process it and then eat it. It is a lifesaver. Right now, I'm really  enjoying peach and strawberry flavour.

Experiments.

I have removed dairy from my diet completely. When you have a baby that is only not crying when she is asleep and she only sleeps when she is in someone's arms, you start to consider trying things. Particularly when the crying is associated with lots of farting*. So, no milk in the tea, no more delicious yoghurt-nuts-and-fruit breakfasts, et cetera. I'm not a big dairy person to begin with, but for whatever reason, after I cut it out completely, all I wanted to eat was cheese on crackers.

Anyway. She seemed a little better starting on the first day and by 8 days, she was a lot better.. However, I know that correlation does not mean causation, so after 2 weeks, I ate some ice cream. Also, some cheese and crackers in the parking lot of a Tops Market situated in a ghetto in Rochester. This was yesterday. Last night, during a game of Carcasonne with our friends, she started crying again. And she didn't stop until about 3 hours ago.
I have not eaten any more dairy.

I'm also considering the fact that she also seems to have a really hard time following any social activity that we participate in. After a birthday gathering at the Farmer's Market, she spent 6 hours screaming and that night was poor sleeping for everyone. Before that, we tried a trip to a swimming hole with the Powells and not one of us slept at all that night. So that's three times and three bad nights.

This makes me sad and depressed and lonely feeling. Also scary: I can't seem to come up with a solution and so it feels like I am going to be stuck at home alone forever - taking the dogs out is even a bit tricky.

*Sometimes Ryan and I picture an adult with the same problems Elinor has. Like, imagine you had a roommate that cried and cried and cried before farting. You'd come home and find them on the couch just sobbing away - you'd think some close family member had died, the way they were carrying on. You'd say, "Oh no! What's wrong??" and between sobs, they'd say, "I just...I just... I really have to fart."

My Feet Are Back to Normal!

Between the last post and this post a lot has happened. One thing that has happened is that my feet returned to normal after getting, if you can believe it, worse.
Apparently, all I needed to do in order for that to happen was spend almost 5 days on IV fluids and synthetic hormones and then deliver the baby! Turns out this is also the cure for pregnancy-induced cholestasis, which I had as well. The main symptom of cholestasis? Being really, really itchy. I found out what caused the itchiness and also what the cure would be by calling a doctor to tell her I was really itchy and then being yelled at (really!) for not telling anyone sooner (I mean, everyone knows to call their doctor immediately when they are itchy, right?), as obstetric cholestasis has a high correlation with stillbirth.

All in all, a frightening and uncomfortable experience, culminating in 16 hours of labour and a bonny baby girl at 7:20am, Thursday, 21 June 2012.

Pregnancy is Magical.

Pregnancy is truly magical.

Prayers and thoughts

I do not know how to react when someone asks me to pray for something. I am even totally averse to the phrase "keep [x] in your thoughts" because it's the same damn thing, just couched under non-denominational wording to make us all feel better. It feels really dishonest to respond to this without saying something that would probably offend the other person, although perhaps, in the circumstance, it is better to be dishonest. Maybe I could be if I was given a minute to think about it. Dishonesty is just never my first reaction. In this particular situation, my usual response is to smile sheepishly or ignore the statement.

Horses.

My old horse died this weekend. I don't know of what, but I assume colic because he was prone to colic and he  was only 18. I had sold him to a girl, about 7 years ago and he was much happier with her than he ever was with me. She didn't have anywhere near the amount of pressure I had to "make" him be the right horse and was able to get along with him at the level he was comfortable at. I made a mistake with him trying to make him into a 3'6" horse - he clearly had the talent and ability but zero interest.

I put him up for sale with the idea that I would turn around and buy the jumper I wanted but he was fairly unsaleable due to all the surgeries he'd had. So I settled for selling him for next to nothing to a girl who loved him and kept him forever and took such good care of him that it was the best possible scenario. It's bittersweet because he was supposed to be my gateway to actually being competitive and not having to worry about where my next mount is coming from or where my current mount is leaving (e.g. Ruby left and now I have nothing at Casey's except ponies, ponies and more ponies). Here I am, 30 years old, still clinging on to this goal that, for all the effort I have made, I still feel further away from than ever.

Townes for the Baby

I decided to try an experiment. Different people have told me that playing music to the baby while she is in the womb won't necessarily make her smarter, but it may make my life easier after she's born. This is because of a current theory that suggests that mimicking womb conditions post-partum will help the baby feel relaxed. Apparently some people call the first three months of the baby's life the "fourth trimester".

So. I decided to pick Townes Van Zandt because from song to song, particularly the early stuff, his "sound" isn't much different but he was really prolific so there will be lots to choose from that I won't be sick of. I play a lot of Townes. I also chose one song ("Fare Thee Well, Miss Carousel" see above) to play a lot to see if that makes a difference.

I realise that the subject matter of most of Townes' songs are, well, depressing and maybe this isn't what I want the baby to have molding her formative years. But I really don't think it matters - all the literature says that reading anything to your baby from the beginning is helpful. So if reading depressing Russian literature or articles on the subject of genocides or anything from the Ithaca Journal to an infant is okay then music from a depressed, mentally ill, alcoholic and cocaine addicted song writer is probably fine too.

A Transit of Venus

Today I went to the Fuertes Observatory and watched Venus pass in front of the sun, despite the clouds.  It was so cool!

A strange person took Ken's special sun-watching glasses without much explanation. He just walked up and tugged them out of Ken's hands and then said,

"He's really excited about looking."

We looked confused and desirous of clarification.

"You guys have more than one."

And then he walked away and handed them to a small child. I'm not opposed to sharing things with small children, but it was a very odd way of handling the situation. He literally pulled the glasses out of Ken's hands before saying a word.

Blender coveting

Here's a thing that I covet:

A non-crappy blender.

Right now, we have a shitty, shitty, $25 blender from Wegmans with no lid (we use a small plate instead) because Barnaby chewed it up when he was a puppy.

It doesn't really blend things all that well besides soups.

My friend Laila bought a fancy, 'spensive, blender a few years ago: she told me she knew it was kind of a lot of money but she was sick of crappy blenders. ME TOO. But I still can't justify spending that kind of money right now. So, I'll just have to covet and dream about making green smoothies that are actually smooth. 

List.

1. I packed a bag for the hospital. Jeeves sleeps on it a lot. I don't know why.

2. Ryan finally figured out what to do with those dry fava beans we have that refuse to cook. He made felafel. It was yummy.

3. I bought ice lollies to go to the hospital with us because every thing I read suggest them. However, there is a catch. If I know there are ice lollies in the freezer, I will eat them. So, I didn't want to buy them too soon. However, I'm trying to "be prepared" so I did want to buy them. I ended up buying 2 boxes, raspberry and mango. I thought, if I eat 3 of each, I'll still have a whole box for the hospital. I just ate the seventh one.

4. Barnaby spent two days vomiting foamy yellow bile occasionally. As he was due for some vaccinations anyway, I took him to the vet. He's fine. Then, that night, I got in to bed. Turns out, he'd been sick in the bed. I found that out after I got into bed.

5. I heard a funny story at the place at which I have been volunteering. I really can't go into detail because it's not appropriate to post online, but I will say this: it involved a "bag of wigs".

6. The baby is due in less than a month. I have been so tired and frustrated and in pain (my feet are rebelling against any form of use) that I am much less "ready" than I was 2 weeks ago.

7.  Sometimes the fear of anxiety-induced insomnia makes me dread going to bed. Also, now, the fear of dog sick in the bed.

Fall Creek Neighborhood Association

I subscribe to the Fall Creek Neighborhood Association Listserv. I am about to stop. It is not good for my blood pressure.

I call it the "Pearl Clutchers Listserve" because a lot of the emails on the listserv are very much in the
"Won't someone please think of the children?!" vein of absurdity. Ryan and I started subscribing after we rescued a loose dog, took it to the SPCA and then discovered the listserv and used it to communicate with the owner of the dog, who was very grateful that we'd found her little dog.

Yesterday, I posted about a dog that had been whining and crying on and off for HOURS. I have heard the dog before, but never for hours. I thought that perhaps - because this happened to me when I first had Jeeves - that the owners were unaware that the dog was upset. It was Memorial Day, perhaps they'd all gone out and left the dog and she was sad.

I would want to know if my dogs were crying while I was out. This is the email that I sent:

Hi all,

There is a very sad dog that has been crying on and off for most of
today, somewhere in the vicinity of the corner of Lincoln and N.
Tioga. I've heard it cry before, but never for so long!

Beyond calling the SPCA, I'm not entirely sure what I can do, but it
is a little heartbreaking. Does anyone know if something can be done?
If you are the owners, perhaps you are unaware that your dog is so
miserable sometimes?

I got a lot of responses, most people said, "call the SPCA!"

I didn't call the SPCA because within minutes of that email being posted, the crying stopped.

Then today, I received this email from an "aztennenbaum":

Maggie is a wonderful dog we've had for nine years. If you knew her,
you would understand that the howling is just something she does, and
has done since she was a puppy because it gets such a prompt response
from the humans.  The howling crying tortured sounds start when she
wants to come back inside and stop the instant we let her back inside.
There is no ramp up. Usually she gets bored after about 5 minutes of
in the backyard and starts howling, so we let her back in.

Yesterday we were doing some gardening so we let her come out back
with us. The reason it was on and off was because we were continuously
moving stuff from the backyard to the front yard (crying starts) and
back again (crying stops). In spite of this, I think she had a better
time than she would have had we just made her stay inside, which would
have resulted in zero crying. Quite frankly it doesn't matter how
happy our neighbors think she is, only how happy she actually is.

The last paragraph, mainly the last sentence, suggest a certain amount of aggression that I felt was unnecessary, but I just chalked it up to "aztennenbaum" not really thinking about my perspective. Most people don't think about other people's perspectives.

Then, from the same email address, 15 minutes later, I received this:

Hi all,

There is a very sad baby that has been crying on and off for most of

today, somewhere in the vicinity of the corner of Lincoln and N.
Tioga. I've heard it cry before, but never for so long!

Beyond calling DSS, I'm not entirely sure what I can do, but it

is a little heartbreaking. Does anyone know if something can be done?

If you are the parents, perhaps you are unaware that your baby is so
miserable sometimes?

Isn't that weird? It's like they think I made a mistake not calling the SPCA on them. Or something. I don't know. I wrote back telling them I wasn't sure what they were trying to accomplish with that email besides being rude. I'm about done with the Pearl Clutchers. It used to provide me with some amusement but frankly, it's making me hate my neighbourhood and I didn't before.

Sweater Pattern

I love the moth eaten sweater look, don't you?

High School Validation

I guess it's validating when your therapist, upon discovering that she is, in fact, familiar with your high school, having done a fellowship at the university across the street from it, says, "That school sounded awful."

Lettuce

I pay more for lettuce. I realise lettuce can be cheap, but there's nothing so unappetising as cheap lettuce. Once, at Wegmans, I overheard another customer asking a stock boy where the iceberg lettuce was. He looked a little confused and then said,

"We don't carry that here."

Good for you Wegmans. Iceberg lettuce is revolting. I can't tell you how many horrible salads I've been served that consists of shredded iceberg, one mealy cherry tomato, a bit of shredded carrot and some revolting cornstarch-y vinaigrette dribbled unappealingly over the top. No wonder people claim not to like vegetables. 

Children get hurt sometimes.

The New York Times recommended to me that I read this article, on the subject of the dangers of sippy cups. 

This is the same newspaper that keeps publishing articles about how helicopter parents are raising a generation of namby-pamby spoiled brats who are incapable of filling in a job application on their own. 

My point is this: kids get hurt. They trip and fall. I sliced my wrist open when I was 4, running with a ceramic piggy bank. I still got into college.  

From the article:

“We think 1-year-old children are just learning to walk and run and are pretty unsteady on their feet and may be more likely to experience a fall,” said Dr. Keim."

It also mentions that a lot of sippy-cup related injuries that possibly aren't reported because they aren't serious enough to warrant taking to the emergency room or even a trip to the pediatrician. So the number of sippy-cup related injuries are actually higher than the study suggests. Shock-horror. Their are probably an awful lot of skinned knees out there, not being reported either.