Friday, September 10, 2010

How to Set Up Family Cloth: Storing, Using, and Washing Your Wipes

Yay for another article! This one is my last in a series of articles on family cloth. It focuses on storing the clean and dirty wipes, the icky details of actual usage (important because most articles rarely address this), and how to launder the wipes. Please check it out here:


I appreciate it! :)

Sunday, September 5, 2010

How to Make Your Own Family Cloth Wipes

Yay!!! My second article was published! I'm really flying high on this writing gig :) I need to work on efficiency though, for with the low pay and my dilatory writing process, I'm probably making $0.10/hour. I tend to circle in and circle in towards a coherent article, with insane editing so it actually makes sense. Still, in the end I can put out what is apparently a decent product.

Here is the link to my second article. Should you stumble across this blog, and are interested in family cloth and how to make it, check it out here.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

I'm a freelance writer

It's been a long time since I've written in this blog. I ran out of inspiration, I guess. However, I recently got all fired up again after submitting an article to Associated Content for publication and they accepted! Woohoo!!! The pay isn't stellar, but I am still getting paid and that makes me very very happy. I get paid 2 ways: first is an upfront payment and second is payment based on page views. This is the first income I've had in 2 years, meager as it truly is. I'm hoping to make up for low pay with high volume, but we'll see how that goes.

My first article is about family cloth. You can read it here: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/5738302/family_cloth_a_greener_alternative.html?cat=7 .

I hope you get a chance to read it.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Angel Food Cake

My birthday was last Wednesday. Since Sophie has denied me the opportunity to gorge myself on cheese and chocolate like I wanted to, we had to make alternate plans. I'm not a huge cake person, but I do like angel food cake, and we found a great dairy free/soy free recipe.

This cake was awesome--it's like mainlining sugar and egg whites. Just looking at it screams "Sugar!" LOL.

As it turns out, this cake is essentially meringue with a little extra flour and sugar added in, so as you can imagine, the texture is a bit different from normal angel food cake but good--moist, light, fluffy and slightly sticky. The recipe is below, in case you'd like to try it :)

Angel Food Cake (from the Canadian Living Cookbook)

1 cup sifted cake flour
1.5 cups sugar
1.5 cups egg whites (about 12) at room temp
1 tbsp lemon juice
1 tsp cream of tartar
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla

  1. Sift together flour and ¾ cup of the sugar. Set aside.
  2. In large mixing bowl, beat egg whites until foamy; add lemon juice, cream of tartar and salt.
  3. Beat until soft peaks form. Gradually add remaining sugar, 2 T at a time, beating until mixture is very stiff and glossy.
  4. Sift flour mixture over egg whites in 4 batches, carefully folding in each batch until well blended.
  5. Fold in vanilla.
  6. Pour into ungreased 10-inch tube pan and run a spatula through the mixture to eliminate any large air pockets.
  7. Bake in 350° F oven for 40-45 minutes or until cake springs back when lightly touched. Turn pan upside down and let cake hang until cool.
  8. Remove from pan and frost with your favourite glaze or frosting, if desired.
Now, we had trouble removing it from our bundt cake pan, but did get it out mostly intact. Still, you may want to try lightly greasing and flouring the pan first.

Enjoy!

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Every 45 minutes? Really?!

Sophie has been suffering more from gas lately. This has coincided with my reintroduction of soy and hidden dairy. At first, I tried to pass it off as mere coincidence, because I did not want to go back to a diet devoid of soy and hidden dairy. Hell, I wanted to start eating obvious dairy. My birthday is next week and I was hoping to have real pizza (read: with cheese) and chocolate. But, after 4 days, I could no longer deny that eating soy and hidden dairy was causing problems for Sophie. Vic and I were both surprised, since we hadn't really noticed her improvement when I stopped eating these foods. Apparently, her improvement was too gradual for our perception. Vic has commented that it's not really fair that it takes her forever to improve, yet she gets worse within a few days. True, but I guess at least this way, we were able to notice the issue. Won't the pediatrician be surprised. He's insisted her gas is just normal gas for babies all along.

Anyway, this increase in gas, combined with Sophie getting accustomed to her crib, means she wakes up a lot. We've been pretty tired, as we'd been getting up every 90 minutes or so, with a record of 2 hours the other night. In addition, as her gas has gotten worse, it's been harder to get her to go back to sleep after she eats, so we've probably been getting about an hour of sleep at a time. Or at least I have. I'm not sure if Vic is getting more sleep during the night, since he doesn't have to get up to feed her. He might still be awake though.

Last night, though, was awful. She got up, on average, about every 45 minutes. By the time I'd feed her and get her back to sleep, it seemed like I'd have to turn around and get back up. I know it's not Sophie's fault, but last night I swear I could hear her thinking "Oh, they're about to get to that deeper, restorative sleep?" WAAHHH!!! And those were the good times. The other times, she just waited until I was about to get to sleep at all.

About 2 am, I just lost it and dissolved into a puddle of tears. I was so tired and so frustrated and I just couldn't take it anymore. I haven't had a moment like this since Sophie was about a week old. Vic got up and took care of Sophie while I went to the bathroom and cried. We decided that since she was sleeping so poorly it'd be better just to put her in bed with us. On one hand, I hated to do this, as it feels like we're backsliding, but on the other, if I didn't get some sleep, I feared I would go stark raving mad. Vic feared the same; he even said he was worried I was going to go crazy. I don't think he meant it literally....but I'm not too sure.

This type of schedule has been very draining. Between lack of sleep and an unsatisfying diet, I've really not been too happy lately. It's pretty damn sad that not getting to eat certain foods gets me down so much, and tells me more about my emotional relationship to food than I really want to know. I know that if I got more sleep, my outlook would be more positive but without it, it's been a spiral into depression. I'm starting to worry about myself--this needs to end soon or I'm really going to run into some problems. I've been holding on, hoping that things would improve--and going back to dairy/soy free, they should--within a week or so. I hope.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Sleep Training, continued

VICTORY!! I think.

Sophie has consistently slept in her crib every night now for over a week. This is awesome. We are way ahead of where we ever were before, and it rocks. The last several nights it's taken an average of 30 minutes of pick up/put down before she falls asleep. It's always a bit creepy when this happens, as she cries, cries, pauses, cries, pauses some more, cries, OUT. Sleep takes her so suddenly that both Vic and I have to check and make sure she's still breathing lol.

So, in the first major battle of wills, we have finally come out the winners. Sophie did kick our asses pretty well at first, but we beat her down. At least at night. We gave up on daytime naps for the moment, and she still sleeps on me. I'm not entirely opposed to this. It's certainly easier than spending hours singing to her, after which she is still awake and now cranky because she didn't get a nap. Plus having a baby sleep on you is sweet. The downside, of course, is I can't get anything done, which is the major reason I wanted her to take naps in the crib. Oh well. I will work on that later when I'm more determined.

Sophie is exacting revenge, however. She may be forced to sleep in the crib at night, but she sure doesn't have to sleep for long. I've been up every 90 minutes for the last few nights. There's not much point in Vic getting up, so it's been almost entirely on me. I don't know why she is suddenly feeding at night so frequently--she may not even really be hungry, but if nursing her is the fastest way to get her back to sleep, I'll do it. It's not like she can overfeed from the breast anyway.

So, she's been eating pretty frequently during the day, and now every 90 minutes at night. This makes for a tired Becky. Thank goodness I pull her into bed with me after Vic leaves for work, so I can sleep until around 10 am or so, and catch up a bit.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Sleep Training

So, lately we've been trying to get Sophie to sleep in her crib. Again. We tried about a month ago, but trying to do it during the 4 month sleep regression, while simultaneously unswaddling her, proved too much. After a week of little sleep we were done.

Still, we are growing quite tired of the cosleeping routine, so now that we've caught up on sleep, we decided to try again.

Day 1--Friday
Our method at this point was to nurse her and then rock her until she fell deeply asleep before transferring her into the crib. So, around 10 pm, we began our bedtime routine--change diaper & clothes, read a book, then nurse and rock. I finally was able to put her down at 11:30 pm. She laid right down without waking. Sweet!!! I tiptoed to bed, congratulating myself on my awesome parenting skills.

Of course, then I laid in bed, listening as hard as I could for any noises that would indicate she was waking. I don't know why I do this--however long she sleeps is never long enough, and I really should just try and get some sleep while I can. But I do it anyway.

She gave me 30 minutes. I had just started drifting off. Damn it! So, knowing she wasn't hungry, Vic got up and tried rocking her back to sleep--for an hour. By then, she was hungry again, so I had to get up and feed her, then rock her and put her back down. Vic and I tiptoe to bed. He felt a little bad that he couldn't get her to sleep by himself--I felt secretly smug. He usually is better than I am at this sort of thing, so it's nice to be the winner for once.

Five minutes later, guess who's awake. So, to recap: over 2.5 hours trying to get her to sleep, and she slept for 35 minutes. It's now about 2 am. We throw in the towel, and into the bed she goes.

Day 2--Saturday
Repeat of Day 1, except we gave up at 12:30 am.

Day 3--Sunday
I don't even remember what happened, but I know she slept with us for the majority of the night.

Day 4--Monday
We decided on a different approach. Instead of spending forever rocking her to sleep, we were going to try putting her down drowsy but awake. This approach we had always laughed at, knowing our daughter, but it was time to try something different, because what we were doing wasn't working. So, after nursing her, I laid her down and then sang and patted her tummy to try and keep her calm. She still got hysterical, so I picked her up, calmed her down, and put her right back down, patting and singing again. Instead of learning that these actions meant she needed to sleep in her crib, Sophie quickly deduced that insane crying the second she was laid down = Mommy picking her back up within a minute. Or two. I was getting pretty irritated. I stuck it out for an hour though, before calling Vic to take over before I threw her out the window. How long did it take Vic to get her asleep, you ask? Twenty minutes. So much for my smug superiority of a few nights ago.

OK, so this took us almost 1.5 hours total to get her to sleep initially. Just as long as rocking. The difference, however, is that eventually Sophie *should* figure out how to fall asleep independently. We'll see.

It was pretty sweet, though, because Sophie then slept for 2 hours! Woohoo! Beats the hell out of 30 minutes. And she went back to sleep quickly, for every subsequent waking. I couldn't believe this was actually working. Until the 8:30 waking...at that point I was so tired I just pulled her into bed with me. Oops.

Day 5--Tuesday
Today was the day to step it up a notch. I needed to teach her how to sleep in the crib during naps too. The more we put her in the crib, the more she will associate it with sleeping. After nursing her, I spent about 45 minutes with each attempt. She stayed awake all day long (a blissful 5 minutes being the only exception), getting progressively crankier. She was also very needy, constantly wanting me to hold her--even more so than usual. While this made sense, since she was not used to being by herself at night and was feeling insecure, it did not make for the easiest day for me.

Around 7 pm, she finally got tired enough to fall asleep in the crib for a nap. Vic, naturally, was the one who got her to sleep. I hate how he shows me up all the time. Thank god I'm breastfeeding so at least there's one thing I can do that he can't.

After waking at 8:30, Sophie stayed up with us until around 10 pm. This night showed improvement--we were able to get her to sleep 30 minutes after first putting her in the crib. Yay! There is hope that this method will work. She still woke us up every 2 hours, but at least it didn't take so long at the beginning.

We also decided that she could sleep in bed with me after Vic goes to work in the morning. Inconsistent, you say? Nope, we're consistently putting her in the bed in the morning only--I hope this works. Putting her in the bed is the only way to get past the stage after the 5:30 (or 6:30) feeding, in which she seems dangerously awake. This is not cool, because then I would have to get up. I have, when there's no other choice, but usually I can get her back to sleep (with feedings) until around 10 am or so, which is so much nicer.

That has been our struggle so far. We'll see how it goes. It would be wonderful to be able to put her down for naps and actually (gasp!) get stuff done during the day. Vic and I getting more sleep again after we reclaim our own bed is a pretty good deal too.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

ROFL

I LOOOOVE the Twilight series...I mean seriously love those books. From my conversation with my sister-in-law Dani, I'm not as bad as she is, but pretty damn close.

Still, my love doesn't mean I can't appreciate clever mocking of this franchise. See the link below for an abridged script to New Moon.

http://www.the-editing-room.com/twilight-new-moon.html

Enjoy! I did!!

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

My First Public Embarassment at Sophie's Hands

Or at least the first one in which I was alone. The other times I had Vic with me to share my shame.

This afternoon I needed to go to the grocery store to pick up a few items--some we needed, some as a treat for Vic's birthday. So, after feeding Sophie and changing her diaper, I decide it is time to head out.

All is well in the beginning. I wrestle the car seat into the cart, and off we go, me cooing at her as I begin to pick up some food. Then, as is inevitable when I am out in public with Sophie, a lady stops me to ask about her. So, I chat with her briefly and she asks to see the baby. See being the operative word. The lady, who was really very nice, gets out of her seated grocery cart, and starts cooing at Sophie. Then, she touches her hand. GRR!! I understand "see" meaning different things at different times, but when the baby is young, and strapped into the seat, see does not mean touch. But it was too late, so I just grit my teeth and say nothing.

As this lady is talking to me, she makes an offhand reference to her son. For some reason, Sophie takes any mention of other people's sons as a cue to start screaming. Her face turns the same odd reddish-orange shade generally reserved for getting shots. Great. The lady apologizes, but I wave it off, telling her Sophie is just fussy and not to worry about it. We part ways. After I round the corner, I surreptitiously rub Purell on Sophie's hand.

So we continue on, Sophie crying. She's not necessarily as loud as she can get, and there are occasional pauses of roughly a second, but it's pretty much constant. I try the pacifier--as usual, no go. I try the pinkie, but it's difficult to keep it in her mouth and push the cart simultaneously, so it's not working too well either. Usually in this situation, I have Vic with me and one of us holds her while the other pushes the cart, as Sophie hates the car seat and this often works. Alas, he is not here and I can't hold her and push the cart, so in the seat she stays. I just start hurrying and telling myself that people will understand.

Next item is evaporated milk. I would think this is in the baking goods aisle...but I am wrong. Fine time to not know where to find something I need. Fortunately an employee points me in the right direction (only off by 8 aisles) and next up is milk. As I head towards the dairy case, suddenly the lights go out! Weather outside is 80 degrees and sunny, so I know that's not the cause. Sophie stops crying for a moment, no doubt startled by the sudden plunge from bright fluorescent lighting into darkness. She then resumes crying. Another customer asks me if she's afraid of the dark, but I reply that no, she just apparently hates the store. As I peer in the dark for the skim milk, they announce the entire plaza is without power and they're getting the generators going. Lovely. I'm having a hard time reading the milk labels (though I finally get it) and am worried about the inevitable delay this will cause at the cash register. Usually this would be no big deal, but I'm trying to move as fast as possible, since Sophie won't stop crying.

The lights come back on as I finish shopping and head toward the register. Then they go out. Then they come back on. I'm hoping this is it, and they'll stay on, so I can get myself and my screaming child out of the store. I get into the express lane, behind 2 other people, figuring I'll be out in no time. Wrong. There's some snafu with a ham and a coupon, that necessitates an employee running all the way back to get a second ham, and the manager coming over to help the cashier. I've been a cashier, so I do understand, but I wish it hadn't happened while I was waiting in line with a crying Sophie.

As I wait in line, I notice many furtive looks. Way to make me feel better, people. There are a few nice people, who give me understanding smiles, though, so that actually does help. One of them tells me her 8th great-grandchild was just born a couple weeks ago. Awww...and she tells me she thinks Sophie is tired, which makes sense since Sophie kept us up half the night last night. Anyway, she was a nice lady to talk to, and quite a contrast to the next lady I talk to.

This new lady is younger....not young, but not a great-grandmother. Anyway, she says, "Oh, is that your baby? You can hear her all over the store!" Thanks, lady. Very helpful. I ruefully reply, "I know, I know." She then proceeds to ask me if I'm breastfeeding. Not that it's any of her business, but I tell her I am. She then looks at my breasts, then back up at my face, and tells me I need to get her out to the car to feed her. WTF?! Nursing in public is something I do proudly, and only nurse in the car if I happen to be there at the time. In any case, I'm in line, about to leave, and she's not even hungry! She's tired! So I am rather irritated, but trying not to be rude when I tell her I am in line and about to leave, otherwise if she needed to nurse, I would nurse her in the store. The lady just nods and returns to her cart, a few feet away. I continue to wait, trying to soothe Sophie as I have been doing the entire time. Suddenly, the sentence "You need to console your baby" floats past my ears. Same damn lady. I briefly fantasize about grabbing her by the hair and throwing her down to the floor so I can run her down with my cart, but figure the high road is at the least more expedient, if not as satisfying.

Finally, the cashier gets to my items. She doesn't say a word to me other than the total--I guess Sophie is irritating her too. The guy bagging my groceries, who is probably 19-20 years old, is surprisingly understanding, and tells me to try to have a good day. LOL. I am touched, especially because I didn't expect a teenage boy to be nicer about a crying baby than grown women. So much for stereotypes, right?

Sophie and I leave the store, and drive off. Maybe one minute into the drive, she stops crying and falls asleep! Sure wish she could've done that a bit earlier.

So that was my lovely trip to the store. I knew this experience would come sooner or later (and will again), and I am glad it wasn't any worse than it was. Still, I certainly would've felt better about it, had it not been for dealing with rudeness as well.

Experiences like this make me really nervous about the plane ride we'll be taking with Sophie in a couple weeks. But hey, at least then I'll have Vic to help support me under the weighty disapproval of fellow passengers.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Creative Writing Exercise

The object of this exercise is to create a short story from a multitude of authors in a semi-fractured style. Write as much or as little as you like to take the original storyline and add your own take on the next events. Copy and Paste the previous chapters and then add your own. Label your chapter number and your name/moniker at the top and then tag 2 people to pass it on to, for them to continue the story and see how it can develop through those different paths. Do NOT tag it back to any previous author of your story’s chapters.


Chapter 1- by Mookie
It is summertime in the middle of the day. Moms and dads are at work, so my friend Jay and I, having nothing better to do, go down into the ravine behind my house. We have decided that today we will build a small fort and a campsite we can call our own. This small stretch of creeks running through the woods in the dead center of our town forms our own wilderness frontier.
We set to the task of grabbing fallen branches and sticks to create the walls of our fort at the base of a hill. While Jay begins construction on these walls, I move to my own little task of creating a dam in the creek that runs through this section of the woods. An older creekbed that is usually dry, except for when the rain comes, has a variety of large rocks and broken concrete. These will be the materials for damming the creek up and creating a small ponding next to our campsite. Back and forth I lug rock after rock and concrete chunks as well. Once I feel I have a sufficient amount of rocks and concrete, I begin to set them into the small and shallow running stream. Soon the water level begins to rise and expand outward away from the bank, as I choke off the streams natural flow. As with any 10 year old, seeing the fruits of my labors, even in the early stages, makes me feel like a god in my own small world. By late afternoon we expect to have a sheltered fort, a bridge over the creek, a pooling of water to soak our feet in, or to use to put out the campfires we set from time to time when our parents don’t realize we’ve stolen a box of matches or a lighter. We even have a designated circle of rocks for our campfire along with some wood, twigs and dead leaves to fuel the fire.
While pushing through some high brush in search for more wood, we spook a doe. She runs off, along the creek, and with a graceful leap she jumps down into a culvert pit, and into the dark tunnel that goes underneath a neighboring road that runs along the top of the east end of the ravine. We followed her to see just where she went. But when we got to the tunnel, we were spooked. Rumors of the tunnel being the spot for Satan Worshippers abound through our heads. This was the one place we had never dared to venture into. Graffiti was scrawled all around the tunnels entrance on the concrete exterior. Older kids had scared us with stories of animal sacrifices, complete with evidence of blood soaked walls that lay within the interior of the tunnel. We look down to one corner and see some scattered small bones, which only further reinforced the validity of these rumors. Then suddenly out of nowhere the doe came running back out the tunnel toward us, veering away as she moved past us, a wild look in her eyes. What had caused her to be so scared and willing to run back in our direction? We had neither heard nor seen anything that might represent danger. The adventure in our little stretch of frontier wilderness was only beginning…
—————————————–
Chapter 2 by Renaissance Guy
“Do you want to go in?” asked Jay with a quiver in his voice.
“Maybe. If you do,” I answered.
“My cousin knew somebody who went in there. He was never heard from again.”
“That’s baloney!” I replied. “It’s just a dumb, ol’ cave.”
“Then you go in first,” Jay suggested.
What to do? Now that I had minimalized the dangers of the cave, I couldn’t show any fear. I’d look like a chicken for sure. Then it dawned on me. “It’s dark in there. We’ll need flashlights. Let’s come back another time with flashlights, so that we can see inside it.”
How could I have known that Jay had come prepared? Out of his pocket he produced not one, but two, flashlights. “Here you go,” he said. “Lead the way.”
I turned on the flashlight and pointed it into the cave. I swirled it around a bit to see if anything hideous was visible. Nothing at all but bare rock walls. Visions of human skeletons and bloody knives zoomed through my mind. I knew that I had to stop thinking and just move forward.
With Jay close at my heels I inched my way in. Drat! Not too far in there was a bend. It was impossible to see around it. My mind went frantic again: Perhaps this is the chamber of death. Perhaps I’ve seen Mom and Dad for the last time. “Hey, Jay,” I said, “I think that I should be heading home. My parents will wonder where I am if I stay gone too long.”
Jay didn’t answer. I turned around and shrieked–almost like a girl. Where was he?



---------------------------

Chapter 3 by Jay Burns


The sound emitting from mouth didn't sound like my own as it echoed through the tunnel. If Jay wanted to scare me his stunt had worked. I was petrified. My mind was racing with the possibilities that could have befallen my friend. Or worse what was about to happen to me. There I stood with the flashlight staring off into the darkness, lighting only a few feet in front of my path until the darkness swallowed it up. Boy these sure are cheap flashlights I thought. Then right on cue as if taking offense to my thought the flashlight flickered and went out.

I was now in full panic. I called out to Jay. I could hear an answer, but the sheer volume of his scream echoing off the concrete walls reverberated the words out of comprehension. I turned on my heels and ran in the direction I had come. I was feeling along the wall as I ran. It was cold and wet against my fingers. Just the feeling sent chills through my already terrified young body. I was running with all my might when suddenly my fingers could no longer feel the wall. Now I was longing for that slimy cold concrete. I felt lost in the middle of this tunnel, but I knew I was moving in the right direction. I must have hit the bend in the tunnel.

The sharp pain in my legs let me know that I had run into something. It was only about knee high, just enough to send me sailing through the air. I was screaming as I flew but I wasn't alone. I could hear Jay's familiar scream too. I couldn't believe it. I had tripped over Jay as he sat cowering in the tunnel. I knew the landing was going to hurt. Instinctively I tried to brace myself with my hands as I hit the ground, but it wasn't enough. My face skidded along the floor of the tunnel, and the water, which runs no more than an inch deep, was rushing into my mouth and up my nose. Close your mouth I thought to myself. During the fall the flashlight had come out of my hand and was clanking along the tunnel. Apparently, the jarring was enough to bring the dying batteries back to life and once again I could see a few feet.

Without missing a beat I was back on my feet running for the entrance which was now visible. I could hear footsteps splashing in the water right behind me. I thought it was Jay, but how could I be certain. All I could think of was that I had to out run whoever was chasing me. It wasn't long before we had reached the safety of the daylight. I could hear Jay laughing behind me, and soon we were both standing outside the tunnel bent over laughing and trying to catch our breath.

Nothing needed to be said. We had both been scared. There was no denying it. I was bent over gasping for air when I saw it. Jay's shoes were covered in something red. There were little drops of red on the bottoms of his jeans. I looked him square in the eye and could see only dread on his face. He was staring at me. Not really me, but my shirt. As I looked down, I understood the look. I was covered head to toe in what ever is on Jays shoes.

Don't let your mind go there I thought. It can't be true, but what else can it be. We didn't talk as we walked the few blocks back to our homes which butted right up against the ravine. How am I going to explain ruining my clothes? What was really going on in that tunnel? If there was something there, are they going to come after me?

The wrath of my father wasn't as bad as anticipated. For some reason I really thought he would one day have enough and kill me. Off to bed without dinner was punishment for ruining nearly new jeans and t-shirt. Not fun, but I knew that my mother would crack at the thought of her son starving to death, and would bring a plate to my room. It didn't matter. I wanted to be alone, and I certainly wasn't hungry.

As I lay in bed that night once again in the darkness I knew that if I lived through the night I was going to have to talk to Jay. I had a plan.
-------------------------------------------------------
Ch 4 by Becky

Never had the night seemed so long and so dark. I trembled at every creak and groan. Sure, it was probably just the house settling, or the tree outside my window, but then again, maybe the tree branches were creaking under the weight of some creature from the tunnel. I shut my eyes, imagining a dark shadow clinging to the limbs and slowly, stealthily inching up towards my window.

Suddenly, there was a rattling sound at my window. My eyes flew open and I cowered in my bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. It was a miracle I didn’t wet the bed. As I strained to see what was coming for me, I discerned a perfectly normal, human hand. After breathing a sigh of relief, I got out of bed and walked to the window to see who had dared the climb. I had a pretty good idea.

“Jay!” I hissed quietly, after opening the window to let him in. “What are you doing here? My mom or dad could come in any moment!”

“We’ll hear them in time and I’ll hide under the bed,” Jay declared, with the easy confidence only an eight-year-old can possess.

“Cool,” I said, though it was probably not going to be cool. If we got caught, who’d be left holding the bag? Certainly not Jay, whose parents tended to be a lot more relaxed about things than mine ever were. I dismissed it from my mind, however, with the usual I’ll-deal-with-it-when-it-happens attitude I generally adopted.

“So I was thinking about the tunnel,” Jay said. “What do you suppose was in there? All that blood…I couldn’t sleep because I kept thinking about it. Should we tell our parents?”

“I don’t know what it was,” I replied. “But I think we should find out first. Then we tell our parents—or the cops. I’ve got an idea.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Like I said, I think we need to go back—but this time with reinforcements. Maybe advance reinforcements,” I suggested casually, hoping Jay couldn’t see how much I didn’t want to go back there.

“Advance reinforcements?” Jay’s brow wrinkled. “I know we can pretty much get Becky and Miah to do whatever we say, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea. We still don’t know what is in there.”

Annoyed (though also secretly relieved) at Jay’s note of reason, I waved my hand airily and said, “Oh come on. Whatever’s in there couldn’t take on all four of us. With all of us and better flashlights, we’ll be able to light up the whole tunnel and see each other, even with the bend. We can each stand at one end and send them in partway, so they can still see us and see each other. Then we can see what is actually in there, and fight it, if there’s even anything to actually fight. I’m sure there are more of us.”

I eyed him to see if this would pass, or if he would back down first. Unfortunately for me, Jay’s spirit rose to the challenge. “Sure, and if we do have to fight, since we’ll all be in sight of at least one other person, we can warn each other.”

“Just let me get the flashlights this time,” I suggested. “Yours suck. And bring Miah with you tomorrow--I’ll talk Becky into coming too.”

“OK,” he replied. “Listen, I gotta get home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya,” I said as I watched him climb out the window and inch back along the tree branch. I laid back down in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking. I couldn’t believe he seemed so eager to go back when I was terrified. Now of course, I could never show him I was scared, but did he have to go along so easily? Once again, I was stuck because he called my bluff. Dreading the prospect of the next day, I was sure I’d never get to sleep, but I guess I did because next thing I knew it was morning. Now all I had to do was find some flashlights and talk my sister into doing something stupid.

I tag Dani & the Black Sentinel.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Breastpump Haikus

So I'm enjoying being a stay at home mom so far. I keep pretty busy, though it doesn't seem like I get anything done lol....just sit on the couch and nurse. Since this is pretty mindless activity, I have to entertain myself somehow--today it's been composing haikus to my breastpump. Weird? Yes. But it's fun. I was inspired by my birth board online--every now and then they have a thread of haikus on one topic or another. Anyway, here are mine. Enjoy!

Oh breastpump, my pump,
You suck at sucking. Output?
Just one lousy ounce.

I pump little milk.
If I were a dairy cow,
Hello slaughterhouse.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

I'm Baaaack...........

After almost 2 months of silence, I've emerged from the dark and scary place that is the postpartum period. My husband and I are finally able to get 3-4 hours of consecutive sleep twice a night, so the sleep deprivation stage has greatly improved. I also have recovered pretty well from my C-section--only a little residual tenderness and numbness, and I've been told those sensations can last awhile. No biggie.

My beautiful daughter, Sophia, was born on Sept. 20 and is doing well. She is absolutely the cutest and best baby ever, even when she's being a pill. My pride in her is enormous. I can't even be polite when people tell me she's cute; instead of just saying thank you, I enthusiastically agree that she is adorable! I wonder if that annoys anyone--if it does, oh well; I can't help it. She really is wonderful and I love her to pieces. Sophie is not always the easiest baby--gas issues have made her colicky--but then she'll smile, or coo, or just lay her head on my shoulder, and my heart just melts.

It is great that the gas issue has eased a bit, however. It really was pretty bad when she was 3-4 weeks old. That seems a lot longer than just a few weeks ago, lol. Her ceaseless crying every night brought me to tears at least once a day myself! However, once the pediatrician told us it was normal, Vic and I relaxed: not just because she was essentially ok, but also because then we knew we weren't doing anything wrong and we all just had to ride it out. Fortunately, she started to improve long before we really expected it, which has been great for her--and us too, of course.

So, as I mentioned, I ended up needing a C-section. Before giving birth, I was death on C-sections and determined to avoid one. Well, that just worked out great. During labor, particularly after I received an epidural, Sophie's heartrate kept dropping with contractions, and my blood pressure became dangerously low. We found out later that Sophie was at an angle, with her head essentially pointed towards my hip instead of down towards the birth canal. So, even though the doctor tried about a million different things to change the situation, a C-section was pretty much inevitable. Vic told me later it was pretty scary for him--everything got very medical very fast, and he was worried. I was scared too, both for myself and for Sophie, but I didn't have to look at myself hooked up to tons of machines and wearing an oxygen mask, so it makes for a different perspective.

The surgery itself wasn't too bad. I was a bit freaked, but so high that it didn't really matter lol. The recovery was also easier than I had expected--I'd always heard how difficult a C-section recovery is, but you know, I didn't have any issues, and avoided many difficulties women who have vaginal deliveries deal with. It was pretty easy--didn't have to push, for instance--and even if I have the option for vaginal births in the future, I'm not certain I'll take it. I still have some regrets about the C-section though. When I watch baby shows on TV and see the women give birth vaginally, I am a bit jealous that I missed out on being able to do that. It's hard to feel like a "real woman" when you can't even give birth vaginally, something women are biologically supposed to be able to do.

In any case, however, I have Sophie now and that's what's important. It's still a little strange to think of myself as a parent, though it feels more natural to me than it used to. And apparently, becoming a parent means doing things completely differently than you envisioned before giving birth. For instance, I never planned on cosleeping--I felt it was unsafe and unnecessary. WRONG. The three of us sleep a million times better if Sophie is either in bed with us, or in the cosleeper bassinet we just built (we feel it's safer) that is on my side of the bed. Although the pack n play is only a few feet away from the bed, apparently that is too far for Sophie--she only really sleeps well in close proximity, either on our chests or with our hands resting on her. After the gas issue resolves and she can sleep better, we hope she won't need us so near and we can move her back to the pack n play, and then eventually to the crib in her own room, but for now, this works for us. Man, have I had to eat my words on this one--but, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive, that's for sure. Oh, and that prior post complaining about always having to hold the neighbor's baby when I babysit? Guess who ALWAYS holds her baby? Yeah, color me hypocrite. However, I know Sophie needs me and she's too young to spoil at this point. In general, though, I've just found that as I develop my parenting style, I'm much more into attachment parenting than I ever expected to be. It's so weird.

So anyway, bit of a rambling blog entry. But hey, at least it's a new entry, right? And having marginally more free time than I've had lately, I hope inspiration continues to strike and my blog doesn't die the slow death I just rescued it from.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Spider Dreams

I've got to stop having scary spider dreams! If not for my own sake, for Vic's. A couple years ago, I scared ten years off his life by waking up screaming in the dead of night after a spider dream. If only that was the worst that's happened...

Last night around 2 am, I was looking over at him and saw a spider crawling over the top of his head and down his forehead. It was large but with a small body, like a daddy long legs, but as I watched in horror, I saw it get even larger. So, being a good wife, I overcame my instinctive fear and quickly took action by grabbing the blanket and hitting him over the head with it to kill the spider before it could harm him.

From Vic's point of view, I imagine it was disconcerting to wake up to his wife beating him up for no apparent reason. I turned on the light, looking around for the spider while he asked me what the hell I was doing. I quickly explained but there was no live spider, not even a corpse, to back up my story. We finally determined that it must have been a dream, but it still took me awhile to really convince myself enough to lie back down among the bedding and go back to sleep.

Pretty soon, Vic's going to put his foot down and start sleeping separately, I know it. I can't say I'd blame him, as the consequences of my scary spider dreams seem to be escalating for him.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

The clock is ticking down...

I'm in my 38th week and have been playing the waiting game for the past couple weeks. I am ready to meet the baby, and to not be pregnant anymore! I am apprehensive about the upcoming life changes, and kinda wish I could have a couple days to just sleep and relax between pregnancy and taking care of a baby, but I am also increasingly excited to meet Sophia.

I find myself getting a bit short-tempered lately, a state probably brought on by hormones, the suspense of waiting, and the tendency of people to ask me "So have you had that baby yet?" and "How ARE you?" every day. I'm still good at smiling and answering politely but I can feel the strain! Vic has even commented on it as he is asked the same questions at work. The first thoughts that tend to pop into our heads are generally along the lines of "Yes, we had the baby and didn't tell anyone!" (especially when it's his MOM who asks) and "Still freakin pregnant, how do you think I am?" My impatience is pretty sad when I'm still a week and a half from my due date, but it doesn't help when everyone else reminds me daily that I'm still waiting. Vic has said that maybe he should start making stuff up, just to give a different answer when asked how I am. It's either that or discuss dilation and mucus plug status, both of which are a bit TMI for most people :b

Anyway, I am excited to see Sophia. It will be nice to be able to meet her, see her, and make sure she's ok. She scared me a bit this past week by reducing movement, and it's not like I can do a visual check on her. It'd be pretty sweet if I could--pregnant women need an abdominal window with a light, like an oven! The doctor said she was fine but sent me to labor & delivery at the hospital for a nonstress test, where they monitored her heart rate and my contractions for about 40 minutes, and of course everything was fine. I was a bit embarrassed at even being there and told the nurse I was mostly there for my own peace of mind, to which she very kindly replied that it was a great reason to come in :) So that was nice. It was pretty exciting being at L&D too, and a lot more comfortable than it will be in the near future lol. I saw a girl checking in due to labor who was in my childbirth education class. She was eerily calm. It's not that I expected her to be constantly screaming or anything, but she did not visibly show any contractions in the five minutes or so that I saw her. I hope I have her calm when it's my time, but knowing myself, I doubt it.

Speaking of contractions, prodromal labor sucks. I've been contracting on and off for over 2 weeks now and in the past week they've definitely gotten more intense. They still aren't terribly painful or anything, but they are uncomfortable, annoying, and increase the suspense of waiting. Last night I woke up at 2:30 am due to a contraction that stretched all the way around my lower front, hips, and back. Then I couldn't fall back asleep because I was having more of them--still far apart, but more frequent than in the past. Just about the time I was getting excited, however, they grew further apart again--so frustrating! I was awake until about 5 am anyway though. I spent part of the time running through the few last minute items I'd like to accomplish before she shows up, and the rest of the time just trying to get back to sleep. Sleep has been frequently interrupted for the past several months but this week, insomnia is definitely getting worse. Yesterday I woke up at 5 am and couldn't get back to sleep. So the difficulty sleeping doesn't help me remain patient with these contractions. I know they are helping me progress, but it is a very slooooow process.

Friday, August 28, 2009

I may be pregnant, but I'm not made of freakin' glass!

Yesterday Vic's grandfather was giving me crap....he only speaks Spanish, but I got the gist of it. He was upset because I had the effrontery to stand on a chair while pregnant and he thought I would fall and injure myself and/or the baby. Now, I get that he was just concerned, but it pissed me off. I told him in my crappy broken Spanish that I was being careful and it was fine. (As an FYI, the chair was very sturdy, my feet were flat on it the entire time, and I was paying close attention to my balance as I cleaned the bookshelf.)

So two minutes later, I'm off the chair but he comes back to tell me once again I shouldn't do stuff like that. Once again, I tell him it's fine! I didn't have the vocabulary to fully express my feelings but I'm sure the angry, impatient look on my face tipped him off.

Then, yesterday evening when Vic's mom calls him, she starts telling him what happened and that I need to be more careful. I knew this would happen! No incident is too small for drama, with people pushing in where they don't need to. Vic has already listened to me grumble about this incident, and is on my side (or at least so he tells me) so he just starts telling her "Bye" on the phone. This is apparently his way of telling her he doesn't agree and doesn't want to discuss the topic at hand.

Of course, this call just pissed me off a second time and he had to listen to me rant about everything all over again....though I could tell he wasn't really listening to my repeated vent--just "uh huh"ing at appropriate moments :b

Next time I see his mom, no doubt I will hear about it for a third time. And I will go off! It'll make her mad, but I do not care. After 9 months, I am just soooo tired of being treated like I am a child, too stupid to be able to make decisions about what is safe for myself and my daughter and what is not. I'm pregnant, not broken!

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Stupidity and S***

Last night I thought my head was going to explode.

It started off innocently enough, with an experiment in roasting a whole chicken. That process, while easy enough, set off a chain reaction of events, the first of which was getting tomato sauce on my white shirt. Last week it was ink on the same damn shirt....so I'm learning a lot about stain removal lol. Anyway, I changed clothes, pretreated the shirt, and threw it in the washer.

As the washer is running, Vic and I hear some odd gurgling in pipes and a few other strange noises. The gurgling appeared to be coming from the kitchen sink pipes, but there was nothing there. We also checked the washer hoses and they were fine too. So, we shrugged it off.

Fast forward about half an hour. I happen to walk into the master bathroom and find the toilet bowl full of water....and stuff (the smelly kind). Water is also on the floor. YAY! I immediately retreat from the stench, to the other toilet in the guest bathroom, where I find the toilet full of water and possibly urine. Great. Just great.

Now, perhaps we should have seen this coming. After all, the toilet in our master bathroom has been acting up for a couple months--not always flushing fully, even for just urine. But, blithely assuming all would be well and that eventually we would just pour some Rid-X down the toilet, we procrastinated and that worked out about as well as it usually does.

Vic calls the septic service, which apparently has an after-hours message service, so we have to wait for a call back. In the meantime, I pull the chicken out of the oven and set it on top of the stove. Being the genius I am, I attempt to take the metal lid off the roasting pan.....with my bare hands! Hastily replacing the lid, I yell in shocked surprise. I mean, who would've thought a metal handle would get hot after being in the oven for 90 minutes? Vic asks what's wrong and I have to confess my idiocy. I don't know where the hell my brain went. As my fingers begin to stiffen (they don't hurt much....yet), I decide to open the carrots and put them in the microwave before bothering to run my hand under cold water.....yet another genius move. After all, why NOT delay first aid? Now I am essentially one handed. Either my hand is soaking in water or (once I remember we have them) sitting on an ice pack for the remainder of the evening.

Vic's parents show up--to help, ostensibly, but really just to listen to our septic story and further distract us as we finish cooking. However, by now, I have to pee....which, being 9 months pregnant, is never a remote concern. I ask Vic to drive me to his grandfather's house so I can use the toilet, leaving his parents at our house without so much as telling them we are leaving. He and I walk outside, and right then, the septic service calls back. So he stands there, talking on the phone, while I am shifting from foot to foot, and blowing on my burnt fingers, which are stinging like mad due to lack of cold water (I hadn't yet remembered the ice packs). So I'm making faces like "let's get in the DAMN CAR!!!" and Vic, who is just trying to concentrate on the phone call, is waving me off with a harassed look on his face. This did not go over well, to say the least. Finally he gets in the car and drives me over to the other house while still talking on the phone. Aaaahhhh....sweet relief!

After we return to the house (septic guy will arrive in an hour), Vic talks to his parents for awhile as I sit inside and nurse my hand. Finally, he comes inside and says he excused himself. Translation: he told them to go away. We decide we might as well eat the food we cooked. Vic carves the chicken on a cutting board. Tomato sauce is EVERYWHERE...it's the recipe's fault, he says. Can we clean it up? Not easily, as we can't run any water! So we use several trees in paper towel form to mop up the tomato sauce and clean the counter, which would stain otherwise.

It's now about an hour after we finished cooking, so thank god for microwaves!! Vic ends up cutting up my meat for me, since I can't use my left hand and it's not quite tender enough for just a fork. Poor guy--as if he isn't stressed enough, I require dinner service :b

The septic guy arrives in due course, pumps the tank, which wasn't full, btw, and cleans out the portion of the main line that he can reach with the hose he has on hand. He tells us if we have any more issues, it's a clog further up in the main line and we'll have to call a plumber. After then relieving us of $250, he's on his way.

Clean up time. I had just cleaned the bathrooms the DAY BEFORE. Grrrrr.....but at least it made it quick and easy to wipe down the toilets, tubs, and mop the floors. Not fun, but easy. By now, I have to use the bathroom again (I'd already taken a 2nd trip to his grandfather's house), but thankfully, we have the joy of working toilets again! This is a convenience you never fully appreciate until it's gone.

After doing my business, I flush the master bath toilet....and it doesn't fully flush. Just like it'd been doing the past few months. So, while the immediate crisis is past, the problem is not resolved!! I have been able to run the washing machine without incident, but I know it's just a matter of time before I lose my toilets again.

Today, after much research, Vic has decided he will rent an electric sewer eel so he can clear the clog himself. I have grave reservations, but if it works, at least we won't have to pay a plumber! And if it doesn't, I'll have inspiration for another post ;)

Monday, August 24, 2009

New Blog

So, I just found a new blog to follow in my free time...it's about a woman's attempt to breastfeed her child. It's a pretty niche audience, I admit, but I'm in that niche, so it works out :) I am very nervous about breastfeeding my baby and I hope by reading her stories, I can a) relate and b) see how she overcomes the challenges that can arise.

Should you happen to be interested, you can find her on my blog list further down on this page, with the apt title of Milk Machine.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Choose Your Own Adventure

Wow, I didn't realize it'd been so long since I last posted anything....guess I haven't had much to say :)

Anyway, for those of you who miss "Choose Your Own Adventure", here's an updated (if morbid) version: http://www.slate.com/id/2223285/. I linked to the article so you can read it if interested before clicking on the link to launch the game.

It's fun, and gives people yet another way to waste time on the Internet, because there aren't enough of those!

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Penne Pasta with Creamy Tomato Sauce

A very yummy recipe that I just tried tonight....it originally came from the Cook Yourself Thin show I guess. My neighbor tried it and passed it on to me.

Ingredients
2 tsp olive oil, plus extra
3 cloves garlic
1/2 cp chopped red onion
3/4 tsp salt
1 (14 oz) can diced tomatoes
Pinch red pepper
8 oz penne
1/4 cp heavy cream
2.5 oz evaporated nonfat milk
1/3 cp grated Parmesan
1/4 cp shredded fresh basil
1/8 tsp black pepper

Directions
  1. Bring a large pot of salted water to boil for the penne.
  2. In a large saucepan, heat the 2 tsp oil with the garlic over low heat until the garlic begins to brown, about 3 minutes.
  3. Add the onion and 1/4 tsp salt, cover, and cook until the onion is softened, about 2 more minutes.
  4. Add the tomato, 1/2 tsp salt, and the red pepper.
  5. Bring to a simmer, reduce the heat, and simmer very gently for 10 minutes.
  6. After the sauce has simmered for 5 minutes, add the penne to the boiling water and cook until just shy of al dente, about 6 minutes.
  7. After the sauce has simmered for 10 minutes, stir in the cream and evaporated milk and simmer 1 more minute.
  8. Drain the penne, reserving about 1/2 cp pasta water.
  9. Add the drained penne to the sauce and simmer until the penne is al dente, about 1-2 more minutes. Add a little of the pasta cooking water if the mixture is dry.
  10. Stir in 1/4 cp of the Parmesan, along with the basil and black pepper.
  11. Sprinkle additional olive oil and Parmesan over the food if desired. Serve.

This yields 4 servings.

When we made the dish, we just used minced garlic instead of whole cloves, since that is what we had on hand. For the same reason, we substituted shredded Colby-Monterey Jack cheese for the Parmesan. It turned out really good!

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Getting nervous....

You'd think someone who's wanted a baby for years and totally planned her pregnancy would be more excited than scared at this point. Sophia is due Sept 14 and I am just terrified. I don't have all the stuff I need yet, which makes me very anxious. The bigger issue, however, is I'm just not sure I'm going to be a good mom. I don't have the patience I think I should, nor do I particularly enjoy playing games with little kids. But I don't want to be one of those moms who resents their kids and parks them in the playpen in front of the TV all day either.

It probably doesn't help that I've been watching my neighbor's baby this week. He's a good baby, and a cute one, but needy. I don't mean he needs food or diaper changes or things like that, because those are normal and no big deal. It's that you can't put him down for a more than a minute before he starts crying to be picked up again. His mom carries him around all day apparently, and so he expects the same from me. I love holding and cuddling with him, but when he's crying because I have to put him down on the floor for 2 minutes so I can pee, it becomes a bit of an issue. Especially when I have to pee about every 25-30 minutes. Vic told me maybe I should try to break him of this habit, but I'm not sure it's worth it for only 2 more days of watching him. I don't think he'll learn that quickly and will just cry the entire time. If I were watching him for a longer period of time, I'd put up with that so he would learn, but it's hard to undo 11 mths of training in just a few hours. In any case, I feel a sense of relief when his mom comes to pick him up--which really scares me, as soon I'll have my own and no one will be coming to pick her up.

So, I'm just starting to wonder if having my daughter is going to be like this too. I'm hoping the whole maternal love thing will kick in so I enjoy being a mom. I feel a bond with her, but it's still more abstract in some ways than I expect it to be when she's actually here. At least I hope the bond will get stronger. And I enjoy being pregnant so much--rubbing my belly and feeling her kick in particular--but I'm not sure I'm ready for the actual child herself. I know that, ready or not, Sophia's coming in 2 months but it's just freaking me out!