Filled with sorrow

I've been crying all weekend and feeling very dismal. Squeeze's cousin, whose farm we took Lester to, emailed and said that they haven't seen him for a week or more. It was hard to part with him in the first place, but knowing that I will probably never see him again is enough to string my heart out on a line and keep my eyes brimming with tears.

My grand scheme was always to get him back when we go rural this summer; to be an outside cat in the country. He would have loved that. Now I don't even know if he's alive. He probably is, but I'll never know that for sure. Unless of course, he comes back... But the only familiar thing at the new place was his carrier and the blanket inside of it. Not people. Not anything but that. Is that enough to bring a stray cat home? I can only hope. It has really been eating at me since I read, and re-read, and re-read again, her email with the bad news. I am very upset. Lester!!!

Politically active?

I've been writing letters to legislators like nobody's business - something I've never done before. My topics of choice? Support and certification for direct-entry midwives in SD and mercury-free vaccinations in MN. It is so easy - simply go to their website or the legislative website for your state, fill in the necessary information and let 'er rip. It feels good to know that I am voicing my opinions to people who have true influence over laws that affect our lives. I wish I had started sooner!

Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone?

The last couple of days, Starbeans keeps pulling down old photo albums to look at. I've been leafing through them and have been in shock that we lived a full 5 years of marriage and almost 4 years before that without our little munchkin. Can it be? Memories are flooding back and I remember...life before baby. It was good. It is strange to me that I barely remember it until I see a visual reminder. Life is good now as well, but very different. I look at pictures of our apartment and think, "Ack! A baby would tear that place apart!" Ah, yes...life is different.

One thing that particularly struck me was how great I looked. Why did I worry that I wasn't up to par when my skin was so clear and fresh and young and smooth? Feelings of doubt certainly didn't dominate my thought-life then, by any means; but it lurked in the shadows. Ridiculous. I should be listening to myself present-tense, because I know I'll be saying the same things 5-10 years from now. Damn, I look good.

My little darlin'

Starbeans likes going down the "dide" at the playground near our house. Incidentally, this playground is at a building owned and formerly operated by the Minneapolis Crisis Nursery. They pulled up stakes and left a year ago because they cannot currently afford to run it (their main site is in Golden Valley, MN). We miss having them there.

Yummy yummy yo-go

We eat a lot of yogurt at our house: plain, tangy, and oh-so-delicious. It calms Squeeze's digestive system when he hits a speed bump and makes the perfect 2 AM snack for the pregnant lady. Starbeans loves it, too. He calls it "yo-go".

We eat so much of it that we were buying and consuming anywhere from 3-4 tubs a week. It was getting a little spendy (but not something we wanted to curtail), so I started making it. I have gotten myself into the routine, where it is hardly a blip in the radar on the days I make it. I am also speculating that I might have to start making it every 2-3 days, just to keep up with demand.

Yogurt

4 cups milk
1/2 cup starter yogurt

Put the milk in a pan, put the heat on low and bring it to an almost-boil. Turn off the heat and let it cool to 115-120 degrees (I keep a thermometer in the pan through the process, so I can judge when it it close to boiling, in addition to knowing how quickly it is cooling). Once it has cooled to the appropriate temperature, remove the skin and pour the milk into a pre-warmed bowl [a Pyrex bowl is ideal]; mix in the yogurt starter, then stick it in the oven for 6 or so hours.

I periodically (sometimes only once or twice) turn the oven up to 200 degrees for a minute or so, to keep things warm-ish. The goal is to keep the milk mixture undisturbed and at a consistent-as-possible temperature of around 100 degrees, in order for the yogurt to culture.

I've made all sorts of mistakes, including letting the milk come to a full boil; accidentally turning the oven to 200 for 5-10 minutes; and having to take the bowl out, cover it, and put it in a towel-lined cooler for the rest of the time (I had to use the oven for something else). And somehow, it has always turned out, which leads me to believe it is easier to make yogurt than one would think. You should try it!

Robots in disguise

We were sitting and talking during a muted television commercial the other day. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a car, but didn't pay much attention until Squeeze exclaimed, "Is that a Transformers hub cap??" Sure enough, it was.

Transformers...more than meets the eye!

Thoughts about birthing

I've been thinking about going through childbirth again recently. I'm actually looking forward to it. It was such a consuming experience; and as those intense feelings have faded through time, I'm very curious to do it again.

I want to do a homebirth for a number of reasons:

• Comfort: Being in my own home, in familiar surroundings. I don't want to plod around a hospital room again.
• Family: Staying close to Starbeans. Squeeze was with me the entire time with our first delivery; his presence was solid. I want to be near Starbeans with my second delivery (for crying out loud - we've never even had a babysitter!). I do not want to be separated from him for the 12-15-25-who-knows how many hours of labor.
• Personal space: I did not appreciate being confronted by the decision whether to vaccinate Starbeans against Hepatitis within 24 hours of his birth ("either now or at his first doctor's appointment", she said). While I wasn't completely educated on my options at the time, I had enough wits about me to say, "At his first doctor's appointment!" [You may or may not know my opinions about vaccinations, but this should be said: Target populations for Hepatitis vaccinations are drug users who use needles, prostitutes, and health care workers...why are we inundating a newborns' fresh immune system with this???]
• Personal space, Part II: I want to be left alone to enjoy my newborn for the first few days of his/her life and not experience the constant interruptions to test their vitals, as if their very life was in danger. I understand hospital regulations and liability, but enough already! [That's why I want to be home.]

Does anyone with homebirthing experience have advice on how to find a homebirthing midwife? We went through the midwives at HCMC last time; my experience was largely positive, but I'm (obviously) ready to give birth at home. My only concern is cost: our co-pay last time was $800. I've heard that a homebirth can run $2000 (assuming that our insurance, with is new, doesn't cover it). From a cost perspective, especially with finances as tight as ours, this may affect our decision. Advice. Please!

I've got nothing

I'm making lentil soup while Starbeans naps this afternoon. That's all I have to say about that.

Up-gee mystery: mostly solved

I'm fairly certain that up-gee means hungry. Last night, Squeeze was saying something about being hungry and Starbeans said, "Up-gee!" although not as clearly as he had those two different mornings. Throughout the evening, I kept peppering him with, "Can you say, 'hungry'?" and he said up-gee every time. Again, not as clearly.

It got me thinking. Because I'm so hungry every morning, I often try and get us going on food as soon as we wake up. [We co-sleep, so I get up when he gets up.] I say, "Starbeans, are you hungry? Do you want some breakfast?" several times each morning to start moving towards the end-goal of FOOD. He must have been extra-hungry those mornings, I guess.

Speaking of up-gee - man, am I hungry.
What's new these days???

Up-gee!

What does "up-gee" mean? Up-gee, pronounced with a hard 'g'. On two different mornings now, Starbeans points and the wall and says, "Up-gee! Up-gee! Up-gee!" I tried to get him to show me what up-gee was, but he just brought me to the back room and started playing with his cars. It reminds me of a story my mom told me about myself at that age: she said I came rushing into the room, saying, "Loomy! Loomy! Loomy!" but she had no idea what I was talking about. I was pointing in a specific direction as well, so she had me bring and show her the loomy, which turned our to be the living room. That story makes a lot more sense now that I have a toddler of my own.

I also called one of my grandpas "Pon-tee", while Starbeans calls both his grandpas "Bupa". One of my nieces called my father-in-law "Bah-ta". She also had an imaginary friend named "Creek Boobah". That might be my all-time favorite imaginary friend name. Creek Boobah!! It's just so cool.

I've been feeling well (other than extreme hunger and lots of sleep). There has been no barfing or nausea whatsoever. By this time with Starbeans' pregnancy, I had thrown up at least 10 times [I know, because I kept a Barf Log]. Mostly, I think, because I couldn't grasp the concept of how frequently I had to eat. I am much better about that this time around, forcing something down every couple of hours; but I also think it has something to do with continued nursing. Kellymom has a whole section on tandem nursing and it seems that many women report that their nausea and nursing sickness is diminished or knocked out when they nursed during pregnancy. I don't know if that is true, but it seems to be the case for me; particularly combined with paying closer attention to how frequently I am eating.

However...thinking about it more, I do remember times where I was brushing my teeth and a wave a nausea would hit out of nowhere: I had to fight it with the strictest concentration to avoid puking. That hasn't happened this time. It would be interesting to talk to other tandem nursing mothers, to hear their input. But for now, all I have is kellymom and her survey of 100 or so people.

We are at 10 weeks today! Our due date is October 24.

Another calico post

There are many reasons why I've been so lax on my blog recently. First and foremost, I've been going to bed as early as possible and eating like an overworked ox. [I really should be in bed right now.]

Can anyone guess why? It starts with a "we" and ends with an "ine". Week nine.

Yep! Growing a baby really takes a lot out of a girl. And, (tee-hee) to all my former co-workers - I was only suspecting it at the end of my time at work, not ready to discuss or confirm. Using the infamous "child(ren)" in my farewell email was probably a subconscious mistake. I must say, though, I almost told Viiiiiiiiicky after she gave me her delicious carrot bread recipe and handmade card. I wonder if she saw my secret smile?

Secondly, we have been pounding the boards at home to maximize the amount of work we are able to get done, on many different levels: strategically, logistically, and physically. Much of my mental and physical powers have been drained by the almost-constant push to get things done. We are planning to go FSBO in selling our home, so I have been reading and researching endlessly in my quest to conquer our little corner of the housing market. Not to mention seeking a lender for our new home loan, setting terms for the purchase agreement on the new place, and organizing all of our financial details.

Finally, we've been sick the past week. Squeeze had a sinus infection that he was socking with endless salt washes. Starbeans fell ill after two bouts of congestion, which finally resulted in a double ear infection (our first tangle). I am proud to say that we conquered the beast through garlic oil & mullein ear drops, hot compresses, and keeping the kid in a hat 24/7. I was sick, too, and cleaned myself out with several salt washes and a hot compress. There is nothing worse than all going down at the same time. It is so nice to be [mostly] back to normal; especially Starbeans. It was terrible to see him suffer, rubbing and pulling at his ears like that, not to mention crying and whining incessantly. I understand why (the pain), but dang - it is hard to take.

And now, I must go to bed.

Sleeping cat(s)

Uh-oh

My little darling was joyfully ripping books off the bookshelf while Mama was vacuuming a ceiling and Dada was varnishing a handrail this weekend. Uh-oh - Mama's books! Nothing was destroyed, thankfully. I learned to keep the most vulnerable books a little higher after a beautiful old hymnal had its spine half-ripped off last summer.

Starbeans has his second runny nose in three weeks...such a bummer. We just cleared up the green goo last week, then hoo-haw, its back again. Shucks. At least he's learned to wipe his nose. I can hand him a diaper or a soft cloth and say, "Wipe your nose," and he does it. Today, he was in another room while I was in the kitchen and I spotted him wiping his nose all by himself. Amazing! I love seeing things click in his brain. Sometimes I try new things that I assume are way beyond his ability, just to see if he can do them. He usually can, which leads me to the conclusion that I'm the slow one. I've got to get with it!

I should also say...I am reveling in my new-found freedom from work. Being able to fully focus on Starbeans, our home, and our meals is thrilling! Our house is so much cleaner and I feel a lot less stress. I've also been able to join the playgroup I've always wanted to (but had to work) and have been able to socialize much more. I like it, I love it, I want more of it.

The birds are chirping and the sun is out

It's easy to feel dreamy on a day like today.

Much work, little time

We are in process of preparing our house for the market; in hopes of going rural this summer. Every weekend has been spent balls-to-the-wall, working our little fingers to the bone.

So far, we've replaced the bathroom sink; patched, primed, & painted; half-packed; organized; tossed; cleaned; vacuumed in spots we'd forgotten about for the last 4 years (yikes); and worked on various miscellaneous repair jobs. We are hoping to be ready to list in April, so it is down the the wire at this point. Wish us luck, we still have a long way to go!!

Blogroll

I finally added a blogroll to my sidebar, listing all the blogs I read on a regular basis. I don't know why, but I've always felt resistant to doing that, as if I were exposing myself. But I'm not exposing myself, I'm exposing them!

Lax

I've barely been posting recently. The last few weeks have been a huge transition for us in many ways. For those of you who check in on me regularly, I will post more in the future - I promise.

A quick Starbeans story...
One of our cats [unfortunately] pooped in the corner near our front door last week. We have no idea who the offender is; it happens now and then, but usually in the basement, where it is not quite as shocking. There was quite the exclamation about it when the poop was discovered and Starbeans spent his time pointing at it and saying, "Poooo!" before we cleaned it up. Yes, poo. It, of course, was disgusting. The funny part of the story is, every time the word poop is mentioned since, he runs to the corner, points, and says, "Pooooo!" I'm amazed by his memory.

First day of freedom

Today is my first official day away from cubeland. I'm not feeling it yet - give me a few weeks. With my new-found freedom, I made White Bean with Vegetables, Garlic, & Rosemary soup, chicken stock, yogurt (a first!), and hummus. [I should clarify that the yogurt and hummus are still in process.] It has been a good day.

I've recently made granola too - I never believed people when they said it was easy, but BOY! was it easy. I've made 2 batches in less than a week because we've wolfed it down so quickly. Like my favorite cookbook says, "adding a bit of nutmeg can make it taste downright mysterious"...and so it does.

Many hands make light work (for birthday greetings and Cheerios feasting)

Translation, please

This evening, as we were sitting down to a nice meal of rice with broccoli and cheese, Starbeans pointed to the counter and said, "Wa-oo! Wa-oo! Wa-oo!" For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what he was talking about. He usually says, "Bah! Bah! Bah!", "Tuh! Tuh! Tuh!" or "Cah! Cah! Cah!" and I say, "Yep, you're right - that's a ball [or a truck or a car]."

But this time, it took me a few blinks to figure out what he wanted. I almost thought about trying to ignore him or just saying, "Yep, uh-huh!"; but then it hit me - he was pointing to his sippy cup. So I handed him his wa-oo and he immediately downed a big swig, finishing off with a big, satisfied "Ahhhhh!!!" Apparently, the kid was thirsty.

Note to self:

When chopping onions within arm's length of a toddler who is "helping" you, don't let them touch the onions, even if they want to. The toddler will inevitably rub his onion-y hands in his eyes and all hell will break loose.

You tell 'em, Wendell!!

There is nothing more absurd, to give an example that is only apparently trivial, than the millions who wish to live in luxury and idleness and yet be slender and good-looking. We have millions, too, whose livelihoods, amusements, and comforts are all destructive, who nevertheless wish to live in a healthy environment; they want to run their recreational engines in clean, fresh air.

The Unsettling of America
The Art of the Commonplace - The Agrarian Essays
Wendell Berry

Wendell, Wendell, where have you been all my life?? I don't know if I would have been ready for you 10 years ago, but it would have been nice if you could have telekinetically transported your wisdom to my teenage brain from Kentucky to Stanwood, Washington. I would have listened, I promise.

Reader, if you want to have your mind blown over and over and over again, read this book. One of the main things I like about Wendell Berry, aside from my affection for the fact that he is similar in age to my paternal grandfather (mid-70's), is his shockingly simple and obvious observations on culture and history. His essays are so well-written that it seems like he is stating something that I should have known, but didn't. Things thought about in muddled fashion; theories brewing in my brain; answers only partially grasped; the path traveled these past few years; the importance of asking questions normally tossed to the wayside by the Public: all these things, he states so simply.

Please...read this book.

He didn't get jealous

But he was all over me for milky every time she had her bottle.

Oh, honey

Think of me, if you will. Tomorrow I will be caring for a 7 month old, my sweet toddler, and trying to be quiet for a husband who just started working from 10:30 PM - 7:00 AM. Goodness. I am interested in whether or not the little one will spur jealousy in Starbeans. Heaven knows he gets jealous the instant Squeeze and I hug; he stops in his tracks, squeals an indignant shriek and comes running to break up all the fun. Then we pick him up, Squeeze says, "Group Hug!" and we all snuggle faces and smooch, with his chubby little arms around our necks.

The question is: What will he think when I'm holding a real-life baby?

Off subject, today he said both "onion" and "egg". That's my boy! I would say his vocabulary is stretching into the realm of 50-60 different words. He hasn't pieced anything together other than "Nigh-nigh Dada" and actually, tonight, "I love you" - but it was more like "Eye-you". (We knew what he meant.)

He also says, "Bel-buh" for belly-button and will poke his finger in there saying, "Ow! Ow! Ow!" whenever the subject is brought up. He saw my belly-button today and pointed at me saying, "Bel-buh! Bel-buh! Bel-buh!" Even though I usually understand him, sometimes it takes me awhile to orient myself to what he is saying. "Yes, Starbeans - that's my belly-button," I said, "Oh, ouch...don't poke your bel-buh...that hurts! Ouch" (which inevitably came next).

He is also wild about pinching his nipples simultaneously and pointing at a scratch on his knee, saying, "Ow! Ow! Ow!" The things he gets into...

Winter, as it should be

A scent remembered

A particular smell can oftentimes bring me back to a certain time (or era) of my life. It serves as a vehicle that brings me into memory, acting as a back-drop for mostly-nostalgic daydreaming and remembrance.

• Tea tree oil reminds me of the excitement of reading through The Return of the King at work 4 or so years ago. I had mysteriously contracted ring worm (we think it was through our frequent visits the Humane Society) and was treating it through topical treatments of tea tree oil and garlic pills (which cleared it right up). The smell of tea tree reminds me of Minas Tirith, kingsfoil, the Battle for Pelennor Fields, the Rohirrim, Eowyn striking down the Nazgul king, and feeling dreamy on a winter's day.
• Tazo Cinnamon Tea reminds me of reading The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula Le Guin. The book takes place on a wintry planet and I read it during winter whilst drinking deliciously cinnamony tea. The very smell of it makes me think of sitting with my feet up in a section of empty cubes; savoring my tea, my book, and my break.
• Witch Hazel makes me feel like a brand new mother again: I was using this to help heal my sore perineal tissues right after Starbeans was born. Think babies, baths, and the fresh excitement of new motherhood.
• The scent of my high school gymnasium never fails to make me feel like I am 17 again, climbing up the ladder in the taping room with Eric Jones through several stories of boilers to the roof of the gym - the Christmas lights, feeling the excitement of being with my crush in such an interesting location, and my freezing cold feet (from going barefoot). [As the oldest of 5, I've been back to that gym for many games, baccalaureates, and graduations since leaving high school.]
• Brewing coffee in a percolator brings me back to general youth - elementary & junior high - and church functions. Mingling adults, small talk, and wondering about the prepubescent cute boys.
• Mingled perfumes: you know what I mean -- the very public smell of freshly cleaned bodies and spritzed-on body sprays, all mixed together. It is being young and at church; looking at ladies' hair, the freshly shaven faces of men, little kids running about.

Cuteness Alert

Starbeans calls Gumby, "Dah-dee!"
(always with the exclamation point).

Hindsight is 20/20

Every once in awhile, I take myself on a little Guilt Trip down Memory Lane.

I gave birth to Starbeans on the Nurse-Midwife unit at HCMC in Minneapolis. About half-way through our pregnancy, after reading a lot (and ditching our OBGYN), I leaned toward wanting to do a home birth; but Squeeze wanted a hospital birth for the first time, since we had no idea what we were doing. It made sense at the time. Our birthing experience was excellent: amazing. I would recommend the midwives to anyone.

However, after delivery we were moved to the OB unit: the midwife unit was shut down for cost effectiveness, because there were only two of us there that night. I understood, but I also felt a bit like I was being sent to the wolves. I suppose it isn't entirely fair to judge the OB unit and its nurses in this way, but in all honesty, that was my base feeling.

I do have a few complaints, including being told by one of the nurses, an older woman, "We'd ask you that you don't sleep in bed with your baby"; having to fend off a Hepatitis vaccination less than 24 hours after birth (because newborns really need the Hepatitis vaccine, instead of target populations like health workers, prostitutes, and heroin addicts); and the constant interruptions, making sure both baby and I were still alive [sarcasm intended]. I understand the reasons behind these actions, but...I still don't like 'em.

Now here we get to the part that can make me cry (if I think about it long enough):

I had no idea what to do with a newborn. I didn't know what to do when he cried or wiggled around and snorted; Squeeze didn't either. We were exhausted from the lack of two nights' sleep, feeling like zombified husks of ourselves. Since the nurse had told me not to sleep with my baby and I like keeping the peace (see: ENFP), coupled with my complete inexperience, I wasn't really sure what else to do. I tried rocking the bassinet back and forth, but that didn't help. I may have tried to lay him next to me, even against the wishes of the Dread Nurse, but wasn't really sure what to do with that either. I was tired. Exhausted.

I may sound like a complete dope, totally unprepared for motherhood, instincts gone awry. I'm not sure really what I was. However...

One of the nurses had said, "If you need us to come and bring him to the nursery, so you can sleep, just press this button." So (and this kills me) - I did.

"Oh - great," said the nurse, "I was going to come in and check his vitals anyway." She also, for some reason, needed to completely undress him - so as he was wheeled from our room, I could hear him wailing all the way down the hall. I was in the bathroom; sore, bruised, and bloodied, sitting on the toilet, smelling raw flesh and blood [the scent I equated with him at the time] and bawled my eyes out. It was the kind of weeping that came out of the marrow of my bones - deep, wide, and suffocating.

I sat there and cried by myself, foolishly thinking that Squeeze was asleep on the pull-out armchair. He wasn't, and soon I felt a comforting hand on my back, Squeeze telling me that I had made the right choice - what else could I do? I needed to get some sleep so I could take care of him tomorrow. His compassion was strengthening, even if I knew our reasoning was completely whacked out.

Through hindsight, I understand that we were inexperienced. We honestly didn't know any better. I know that Starbeans is not tainted or tarnished from that experience, nor will he even probably think much of it (until, perhaps, he has his own children). Its negative effects are mine alone. I also realize that I will be knowledgeable and prepared for our next baby: understanding and experience will be mine. I will do everything within my influence and power to orchestrate a home birth. I want to be in the comfort of my own home, empowered by my own decisions, surrounded by my family, and free to recuperate on my own (in my own bed).

This, that, and another thing

I don't have anything cohesive to say, so this post will be stream of consciousness...

• Today, Starbeans saw one of the cats on the counter while I was in the other room. I could hear him shouting, "Dow! Dow! Dow!" from the distance. Atta boy!
• Every once in awhile, when it is time to change his diaper, I can say, "Starbeans, come here...it's time to change your diaper" and he'll come demurely, even lying down on the laid out diaper. Most of the time, that is the trigger to run in the opposite direction wildly (as well as looking really cute).
• Squeeze spent the weekend replacing our bathroom sink. Along with that chore came: patching up the wall, priming, and re-painting. He did a dandy job! Our bathroom looks much bigger now with the pretty little pedestal sink vs. the old nasty cupboard-style sink. Good riddance.
• Starbeans created his own sign for "sharp": he holds out his left palm and touches his left pointer finger to it, saying, "Ow...ow...ow". He does the same thing with butter knives (when he can get ahold of one).
• Just this past week, I've had Starbeans helping me in the kitchen. He likes to pour the contents of measuring cups into bowls, stir, and pretend to wash dishes. It is really nice, actually. He is extremely entertained by it; I have time to get some work done while keeping an eagle eye on him; he's learning how to help; we can spend time together instead of him getting bored (and complaining) on the floor by himself. We have both really enjoyed it!
• Squeeze is finally transitioning into a full-time position at his workplace. I've been waiting a year and a half to be able to stay home; working part-time has been good for me/us in a lot of ways, but I am so very ready to focus on our child(ren) and home. [Not pregnant.] Only one more week to go, then I am freeeeeee. Goodbye Cubeland (forever). You've been good to me, but now it is time for us to part.
• Did you know Zsa Zsa Gabor has had 8 husbands? I googled her this weekend, for some reason.
• I killed mildew on our bedroom window sill this weekend with 12 drops GSE (Grapefruit Seed Extract) to 1/2 cup water. Thank you, Better Basics for the Home. Incidentally, GSE is also a natural antibiotic.

TTFN, internets.
To bed with me!

Not enough T-I-M-E

I've got 6 library books waiting for me...
No blogging tonight!

Laugh out loud (at 4 am)

While lying in bed in the wee morning hours last night, I started thinking about how my maternal grandmother gave all her grandchildren flashlights for the Christmas of 1999. She never specifically said that they were for Y2K, but I always had my suspicions.

The year before that, we all got world maps and atlases. The year before that, giant black beach towels with exotic flowers & foliage: males and females alike, no matter of our age. My aunt said that she always bought whatever was on sale at the drug store.

She and my grandpa don't leave the house much anymore, unless someone comes to get them. All of her presents are bought through her daughters now; so, while very nice, they've become a little less exciting: books, table clothes, sheets, baby sets, etc.

Sometimes I miss the 'old days', but time marches on. Soon, I'll be the one sending Happy Hanukkah cards for birthdays or Halloween - not unlike my great-grandpa (her father). Maybe it runs in the family!

'An Ode to My History' by a. borealis

This weekend I read through many of the letters I wrote to Squeeze over the 4 years we were dating (ages 19-22). I wasn't as much of a dope as I thought I was; for the most part, they are articulate and well written, with interesting content (aside from the "I miss you", "I wish I were with you", "I'd rather be with you right now" bits - which were numerous).

It was like a walk down memory lane. Some things, I knew exactly what I was talking about. Other sections were like a jog to my memory: I had totally forgotten about them, but could recall the events or situation while reading about it. Still, others were completely forgotten: I read it, then wondered what on earth I was talking about, or like a story, forgot the ending. It was fun!

I especially enjoyed one of the first notes I wrote him, asking him "not to go for me" because "it would ruin the potential for a very bright friendship" and thanking him for an enjoyable evening of wrestling. Yes: we wrestled wildly the first night we hung out (I remember picking him up with my legs in an airplane hold and throwing him into his closet door). We were 19.

The other one I enjoyed (perhaps the most), was a very dramatic letter written on December 31st, 1999: I was at my parents' house for Winter Break; we had been "broken up" for all of December and most of November of that year. I say "broken up" because Squeeze doesn't even remember this as truth (in his mind it never happened, because he never truly wanted it to be over). We still saw each other, though not as regularly, and this letter was me saying, "Enough." It hurt too much to see him; I was accepting our fate and sealing the deal: I didn't want to see him anymore. We were married 8 months later.

Ain't love grand??

My first meme: ABCs

meme (mēm) n. A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another.

This meme came from Mama C-ta. I've never done one before, but thought I'd finally give it a whirl. Wheeeee!

A: Available or married? Married (6.5 years)
B: Best Friend? My husband, but I treasure my kindred spirits.
C: Cake or Pie? Pie, as long as it isn't overly sweet
D: Drink of Choice? Water, please!!
E: Essential Item? A nice-sized bag to be able to carry around all my other essentials [daybook, water bottle, pen(s), camera, chapstick]
F: Favorite Color? GREEN [it's just so lovely]
G: Gummi Bears or Worms? In the day, I would have said Black Forest gummi bears - but now, it takes me weeks and weeks to get through one package.
H: Hometown? Stanwood, WA - going back 4 generations on my mother's side [but I only lived there from ages 14-18]
I: Indulgence? Sleeping butt n^ked on clean sheets.
J: January or February? January - winter is still fresh at that point; things start getting a little old by February.
K: Kids & names? One child; male; 18 months; online, known as "Starbeans"; in real life: Sneg (just kidding...)
L: Life is incomplete without? Good books, good food, good sleep, satisfying conversation
M: Marriage Date? August 12, 2000
N: Number of Siblings? I am the oldest of 5: three brothers (27, 24, 21) and one sister (18)
O: Oranges or apples? Current obsession...APPLES. I love Cortland, Braeburn, and Cameo the best - it seems that my favorites are tart, crisp, and mildly sweet.
P: Phobias/Fears? I like spiders in theory & for their role in the ecosystem; but unfortunately, seeing them in real life gives me the creeps.
Q: Favorite Quote? As much as I read, I cannot think of even one [am I pathetic?]
R: Reason to Smile? I had waffles with apple sauce for breakfast this morning - they were delicious.
S: Season? Autumn - crisp days, sunny afternoons, brightly colored leaves, smoke-scented air.
T: Tag three people! Nah.
U: Unknown fact about me: Once, in 9th grade, I clotheslined my neck on the volleyball net diving after a ball in P.E., giving myself a terrible rope burn that stretched across my entire neck; those who didn't know me thought it was a hickey.
V: Vegetable you hate? Uhmm...not applicable
W: Worst habit? Forgetting to eat until I am way too hungry [& then getting wacko-crabby from it]
X: Xylophone? Ring-a-ling-a-ding-dong
Y: Your favorite food? Anything with tons of vegetables.
Z: Zodiac? I'm a libra...but I don't really know what that entails.

Cat problem: solved

Does anyone ever have people leaving comments that are in no way related to the post? Check this out. I don't get it. There I was, wallowing sorrowfully in the fact that my cat is peeing outside of the litter box; and I have one person telling me that it was a "great post", while the other one says how he has recently moved and misses his old 'hood. By the way, I know do not know either of these people.

Now, A-Lo and Aravinth - if you are sincere in your comments, my apologies. They just strike me as outlandish and bizarre. Perhaps people are just trying to get their names out there? This is most definitely not the blog to do that, as only a handful of people look at it per day. Maybe they thought they were commenting on a different blog? Whatever the case, it is just so we-ird.

As for Lester, the offending feline, we came to a suitable solution. When we go rural, hopefully by this summer, he will become an Outside Cat. He'll have his own little cat house by the front door and can pee wherever his little heart desires. This will also solve the issue of our self-induced Feline Mania, as we will be booting out Lester's side-kick, Toots, as well; they can snuggle together in their cat house at night and hunt mice together by day. And we'll have 2 less cats in the house! The other two, Lit Bay and Little Bud (I know...I know...ridiculous names) are virtually harmless and much more manageable.

We have realized that is it totally insane to have 4 cats under one roof. What were we thinking? We weren't; or at least, we were not thinking of a future with anyone else to take care of aside from ourselves and the fur balls. Adding a child into the equation changes the entire situation. As another blogger once said so well, "I could have written pages and pages before they [her children] were born; but now, they are just pets." Yes mama, with a capital Y! I like, enjoy, and feel affectionate towards our cats, but I'm not longer willing to slave for them. Done.

For clarification, Lester's main peeing problem is this: he has chronic urinary tract infections that only stop with a raw food diet. I can handle that. Part II of his peeing problem is that he likes to urinate on anything sitting on the floor in our basement: plastic bags, laundry baskets, blankets, etc. Every once in awhile that problem comes upstairs, which is twice the annoyance; but thankfully, has never happened on the carpet - it has always been on the vinyl or wood floors.

Once (and this is insane), when Starbeans was first born, I was lying on the living room floor, admiring my newborn. Lester walked by and stopped by my head; I saw him out of the corner of my eye and I thought his legs were positioned strangely. As I sat up, I saw that he was squatting in a peeing position and literally peed on the floor where my head was. This is not a joke. Right on the floor: as in, he would have peed on my head if I hadn't of sat up. What the...? So, we have definitely have problems.

If anyone is interested in a raw food diet for their pet, check out Natural Health for Dogs and Cats by Dr. Pitcairn. It is a really good book: we've used it a lot. It is packed with recipes and is a good source for first aid, up-keep, dealing with health problems, etc. Pitcairn strongly advocates a raw food diet and spits tacks about dried food - and it makes sense: if you think long enough about what goes into dried cat/dog food to keep it from rotting, it'll give you the heebie-jeebies. Check it.

Twiggy Mama

It has snowed for most of the day today, but it has been the airy kind of snow - not much body, swirling down lightly, barely accumulating. It sure is pretty, though: I'll take it. This afternoon, Starbeans looked out the window (from across the room) and said, "noh". Snow. It was precious. He is also starting to attempt jumping (but never leaves the ground) and crosses his arms. So many new things...

I looked at the clock at 11:11 both morning and evening today. Spooky!

Onto a completely different subject...

My weight is down to 130; it was in the high 120's last week. People are started to get a little freaked out by my stick-like appendages and wonder what is wrong with me. I'm 5'9, by the way. My clothes don't fit, my veins are bulging, my underwear is huge on me, etc. etc. My nursing bras don't even fit anymore.

My BMI is 19.2, so I'm still within the healthy (be it low) weight range for my height, thankfully. I'm pretty sure that I have a fast metabolism anyway and extended breast-feeding (18 months and counting) is really sucking out the calories. I've been trying to eat more, but that can be tiring. I already eat a lot! So much, in fact, that several years ago when while baby-sitting our nieces, they said, "Our mom and dad said that you eat more than anyone in the whole family!" Oh goodness, it was hilarious (and true): I still laugh about that when it enters my mind.

He got stuck on the way down

Regret; and then, a bounce back

Remember my encounter with laughing gas at the beginning of the month? Well: it wasn't worth it. We just got a bill for 80 dollars because nitrous oxide isn't covered under our insurance. Doh! That was a pretty expensive new experience, especially since when they asked in passing if I wanted the gas, I so flippantly responded, "Oh, sure...what the heck!"

What the heck, indeed. It is especially unfortunate since Squeeze and I each work only part-time and we are trying to save vast amounts of cash for our potential move. Bummer, but what can I do - the deed is done.

Onwards and forwards...

I have been learning a lot about cooking the past couple of years. One of the most important skills I have learned is prepping ahead of time. This include keeping chicken stock around, cooking beans or chickpeas the day before, and generally thinking a couple of days in advance. It is challenging, and I like it.

Tonight I made re-fried beans (dark red kidney beans, canola oil, onions, cumin, and cayenne pepper) for a few different days of burritos. I made hummus, too, which Starbeans adores. Just yesterday we finished off the shredded chicken from the chicken stock I made last weekend; the stock sits in the freezer waiting to be used in White Bean with Vegetables, Garlic, & Rosemary soup and used for flavor in a dish of sauteed tofu with onions and celery.

It is so fun!!

I know what you're thinking...just think what I could do with a root cellar!

De-glitzed

I had an epiphany yesterday morning at work, while I was waiting for my baked potato(es) to heat up in the microwave. The talk show, Tyra, was on in the corporate breakroom. I didn't pay much attention even though it was blaring in my ears, until it closed with a [ridiculous] music video.

I have no idea who the musical "artist" was, but the video was completely dripping with lust, gratuitous sexuality, and total self-absorption. It blew my mind. Was this a joke? It looked more like a sketch from SNL than a real music video. [What is a real music video?] It led me to realize that the more detached from pop culture I become, the more laughable it is. Literally: I looked at the glitzed-up hot bod prancing around in front of svelte cars and sexy men & women, singing about his fantastically exciting life and laughed. Its pompousness struck me as hilarious; and it felt so good. I've never been much a part of pop culture, but I have certainly been more aware of it in the past - and never thought it to be that odd. But now, baby, it is out there.

I don't know if this is a part of getting older (I'm 29), or simply a divergence in my life from the beaten path. Perhaps it is both. Whatever the reason, I am so thankful for it. I would hate to be trapped in the race of shinier-hotter-tighter-sexier. I'm chelating the glitz out of my life.

Uhhhh...that is, if it was ever there in the first place.

He signs

Starbeans signed "help" for the first time this morning. I've been asking him if he wants [help] the last few days when he is trying to rip down the blinds to see out our bedroom window. He wants to see the buses, of course.

He signs:

• All done
• Milk
• Please
• More
• Help

Bbbbbbb!

Starbeans, almost 18 months, has discovered his love for cars, trucks, tractors, and snow plows this past weekend. He has loved buses for awhile and will breathlessly declare, "Buhhh!" whenever he sees one, but the other 4-wheeled vehicles have been practically ignored until a few days ago. Now he totes around any combination of toy cars or tractors and affectionately wheels them around with excellent sound affects:

"Bbbbbbbbbb....bbbbbbbbbb....bbbbbbbbbbbb!"

It really amazes me. Where did this little boy come from? And why, on earth, does he like vehicles of all kinds? It is unbearably cute. I find myself searching the horizons for cars or trucks and then rapturously proclaiming, "Look, Starbeans...a truck!"

I wonder if a little girl would be attracted to that kind of thing? We certainly didn't push it on him: his interest seems very natural. Why trucks? Why tractors? What about tea cups? It is just so fascinating. I'm excited about all his potential obsessions; and if he's anything like his dad, they will be numerous and intense in nature. I hope he likes dinosaurs and outer-space! I've been stocking up on those kinds of kids' books since before he was born. This, of course, is in addition to a plethora of other books: thrift stores are an invaluable resource for children's books. Gotta love 'em!

Can you picture it?

Squeeze and I have a dream of living more closely with the land: in a rural community. Not suburban. Not even semi-rural. RURAL. Presently, we live in Minneapolis (a mid-sized city) - in a sweet little 1920's bungalow on small lot. As in: if we wanted a garden, we'd have to nix the yard. We live 4 blocks off the freeway, on a fairly busy street, on a busline, and right under a flight path near the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport. It can be rather loud.

We need a place that isn't out-of-this-world expensive and near a large enough town for Squeeze to find a job. Other than this, our main requirement is to be near some kind of family. I absolutely cannot live stranded without any family. Therefore, we have been looking around the rolling prairies in eastern South Dakota and western Minnesota and...this weekend...I think we may have found The One.

Imagine this:

• An old, interesting home that has been updated and impeccably cared for
• An apple tree
• A root cellar [!!!]
• Wood heat
• 2,000+ square feet
• 1 sun room
• 4 bedrooms (with curved ceilings)
• 2 dairy barns
• 1 hog barn
• 1 chicken coop
• 2 silos
• HUGE gardens (already in use)
• 15 acres
• Near a pretty valley town
• Near a lake
• Near a park
• Near a Natural Health store (in the middle of nowhere!!)
• Within a half-hour of my in-laws

What's a girl to do?

Has anyone ever had a favorite pet that can't stop peeing in unfortunate places? Like - the living room floor, the kitchen floor, the laundry room floor. We are in a complete quandry (or, at least, I am) over what to do about my most favorite cat, Lester. He is really causing problems (and has been for a long time): and a raw food diet and vitamins C & E aren't helping. We've had him for almost 7 years and I break down and cry at the thought of parting with him.

Squeeze says that thousands upon thousands of people have had to deal with this before us, and that the answer is simple: get rid of the cat. I know he is unhappy about it too, but his thinking is much more pragmatic than mine. In addition, I am willing to suffer [ahem - for another 10 or so years] for my affection while Squeeze is done. Finished. Ready to move on.

Has anyone else gone through this before? Or been close to someone who has gone through this? I need someone to wallow with.

Dum-ta (dump truck)

More words from my almost-18 month old:

• ice
• icy
• hat
• truck
• dump truck
• boat
• bath
• baby
• please [sign]
• apple
• night-night

Bupa and eel-like amphibians

My dad was in town for a visit last week. Starbeans calls him Bupa. He gets very excited when he is about to see him (or even thinks about him): we're talking - squealing, arm-flapping, bouncing, and passionate proclamations of, "Bu-pa!!!" And of course, my father simply loves it. They spent a lot of time playing, snuggling, and looking out the window for big trucks and buses. It was sweet.

Interestingly, Starbeans is equally enthralled by Squeeze's dad. He must be a Bupa's Boy.

We went to the Como Park Conservatory on Saturday. Has anyone in the Twin Cities been to the new exhibit?? It was AMAZING...almost worth losing the ethereal old fern room. Go. See it.

This is my brother (the floating head) examining what appears to be some sort of eel or worm, but is actually an amphibian. They never moved. They just hung there.

In the red

Oh my goodness...I've got nothing.
Absolutely, positively nothing of interest to say.

Hello Internets!

Live long and prosper

We are on a Star Trek kick. And when I say Star Trek - I mean Scotty, Kirk, Spock, Sulu, and Checkov.

Recent highlights:

• Today, Mister Spock said, "Vulcans don't bluff" in response to a challenge from a rogue captain trying to take over the Enterprise in Kirk's absence.

• The episode before that - as usual, the Enterprise was being pulled towards a planet by a malevolent unknown power, using all power to pull back and avoid being crushed: Captain Kirk told Scotty that he knew the ship better than anyone else - better than even the makers of the ship - but that if he couldn't get them out of that jam, he was fired.

• In that same episode, Spock was stabbed by a vicious flower, struck by lightning, forced to have an awkward conversation about alien reproduction with the crew, and caused an explosion by simply tossing a rock (from the alien planet's landscape) to the side after examination. Squeeze called it the All Spock Comedy Hour.

It's just....classic.

Reclaiming lost knowledge

I am so pleased. Two books arrived for me in the mail today, ones that I have been stewing on for months. We finally broke down and ordered them on Christmas Eve: a Christmas present of sorts. Neither books are available from either of the library systems we use (Minneapolis & Hennepin County).

The first, by my girl Aviva Jill Romm:

• Naturally Healthy Babies and Children: A Commonsense Guide to Herbal Remedies, Nutrition, and Health

The second, recommended by my girl Aviva Jill Romm, and written by Leo Galland:

• SUPERIMMUNITY for Kids: What to Feed Your Children to Keep Them Healthy Now - and Prevent Disease in Their Future

I've peeped at them a couple of times this evening, but now that Starbeans and Squeeze are in bed, the night is mine. All mine! I'll leave you with a quote that struck me strongly, something that I have been understanding more and more within the last two years - the lack of community we have fostered for ourselves in American culture.

Reclaiming Lost Knowledge

Because today we lack the extended community common to previous generations, this book is intended as a companion for parents, linking us all in an extended network of families committed to the well-being of children. This network is global. I believe that we can all support one another and reclaim our ability to care for ourselves through traditional, natural remedies if we pick up the threads of the old ways where modern technology took over and and combine the best of both worlds.

Introduction

Naturally Healthy Babies and Children - Aviva Jill Romm

F.B. in the W.

Some how, some way, someone did a google search for "fattest butt in the world" and landed on my blog. What the...?

Do I have a man-voice?

I had my final bloody wisdom tooth extracted today. Goodbye pressure! Goodbye tension! Goodbye over-crowding! (Or, at least, let's hope so.)

I had never been offered laughing gas before today, but I decided to go for the gold. After all, Lord-willing, I will probably never have another tooth pulled; I've also never had a cavity in my 29 years; so I took my chance while I had it. And oooboy, was it fun!

Here's how it went:

The little mini-mask went over my nose and I was told to breath regularly. We (the oral surgeon, his assistant, and me) were all watching the kids sledding on the hill across the creek as my frontal lobe started buzzing: it tickled. I began to melt into a relaxed state, recognizing that I didn't give a crap whether I was about to be poked with a needle or not. What the heck! It's just a needle! I told them that my frontal lobe felt like it was floating, and while I was thinking about it - my vocal cords didn't feel like they were attached to my body either.

"It's the gas," said Dr. Rahimi. I gigglegurgled a bit and then realized, "I feel like I'm talking with a man-voice. Am I talking with a man-voice? I mean seriously - do I have a man-voice?" I asked, barely able to hold back my giggles.

"No - that's the gas too," replied Dr. Rahimi, seeming quite amused. During this interlude, he had numbed me up with two shots of novocaine (saying, "Sorry...sorry..." as he poked me) and was waiting a minute before it took complete effect in my mouth. He then took an instrument that looked a lot like a stainless steel popsicle stick, asked me to tilt my head slightly towards him and said, "You're going to feel a little bit of pressure." He pushed on the tooth; I could feel slight pressure and hear some soft cracking; then he took some kind of dental pliers and POP - out came my tooth, like a snap. I didn't feel a thing.

I asked to look at it, which he allowed; the root was curved, like it grew in with devious secrecy because it knew there wasn't enough room in there. Seeing the tooth brought back a memory that sent me into a fit of giggles again: Dr. Rahimi pulled my first wisdom tooth (impacted lower left...oh was that was a painful SOB) in 2002. After that extraction, I asked him if I could keep the tooth and he very abruptly replied, "No! BioHazard!" It startled me a bit at the time, but I think about it now and it makes me laugh.

Being naturally open and particularly cheerful because of the laughing gas, I happily told him the story with a lot of hysterical laughter in between "and then you said..." and "No! BioHazard!" and then confided, "and you said it so mean!" They (Rahimi and the assistant) both cracked up and we all had a good guffaw together. It was great: getting my tooth pulled has never felt so good.

I have very little pain even now; I haven't taken any kind of pain killer and don't really plan to. It is a lovely, lovely feeling knowing that my jerky tooth is gone and that I'll never have to worry about an over-crowded mouth again. Maybe my teeth will even move back into place again. My FIL seems to think this is the case; I really hope so. Presently, my bite is completely off and I can't even shut my mouth completely because my teeth don't rest together anymore. We'll see. I'll keep you posted. Meanwhile...as The Maestro on Seinfeld says, "Let's celebrate!"

Long lost twins

Squeeze's Grandma keeps a vintage 1982 Montgomery Wards Christmas catalog out on her porch, under an arm-chair. On a quiet afternoon a number of years ago, Squeeze and I were breezily leafing through it and discovered, much to my shock/pleasure, the original advertisement for one of my favorite sweaters (I really like the zipper and the long zippery neck).

We were reunited again this weekend: only this time, I was wearing the old boy. Here we are (snuggling). I think the model puts a burly out-of-doors feel to it, while I am going for more the look of a relaxed amputee.

We love cats

(Good boy, Lester)

Vocabulary at 17 months and a predispositioned love for Cheerios...?

Starbeans' vocabulary at 17 months:

• Bird (brr)
• Ball (bao)
• Bus (buh)
• Mama
• Dada
• Grandpa (Bumpa)
• Up
• Down (dao)
• Squirrel (Qrrl)
• Yes
• No
• All done (ao doh) [he signs this too]
• More (moh) [he signs this too]
• Hot (haaaat)
• Cold (cohl)
• Corduroy (coydoydoydoydoy) [he knows this from the book, Corduroy's Day]
• Kitty-cat (miaaaow)

I can now give him a choice - "Do you want more or are you all done?" and he tells me what he wants! It is an amazing thing at this point in our lives. This evening, we actually communicated about eating Cheerios: he wanted more, more, more, then he was all done. We're on a roll now!

Incidentally, I bought a box of Cheerios a couple of weeks ago because I couldn't get them out of my mind after half-starving during our rotavirus plague. We don't usually have cereal around the house because 1) Squeeze has weaned himself from it due to his lactose intolerance, and 2) I don't care for it much (aside from my Cheerios cravings, of course). But when we gave Starbeans a handful of Cheerios, it was Love at First Munch. He actually squeals when we get the box down for him.

Now that my brain is clacking into motion, Cheerios was my main obsession during the early-middle days of pregnancy. It was all I wanted; literally, for weeks. I'd wake up in the middle of the night gagging with hunger pains and down a bowl (or 3) of Cheerios. I wonder if the oaty-goodness left its mark in little Starbeans' taste for food?

Exclamation Point!

Once, on a bus, I overheard a dumpy-looking white woman say, "I nearly starved when my can opener broke - there was just nothing to eat!" She then went on to talk about Chef Boyardee, canned ravioli, weak wrists, and all of her weight-related health problems.

Reading Fat Land is causing all sorts of click-click-clicking in my brain. The pieces are connecting. Presidential Fitness Awards, fast food availability in high school cafeterias, Coke and Pepsi sponsorships at high school athletic events, canned, boxed, over-processed, why my mom didn't let us eat white bread, etc. etc. etc.

Eating well in the US is a learned habit. I don't think it comes naturally to us; or at least, in the last few generations. Big is normal. Most people seem to just expect it. We guzzle soda, slurp canned soups, and chow on frozen pizza and expect to live normal, healthy lives. It has been giving me the down-right creeps. The other day, I watched a girl around my age with angry red gums downing a bottle of Mountain Dew: all I could think about was her poor, sore gums. Sugar is not what that girl's mouth needed. But it is normal to live like that!

Just within the last few months, I have been looking around and thinking, "What the heck is wrong with all these people??" Why are we living like this? a. borealis has had an awakening: now that I am responsible for a little growing body, I want to ensure that he (and we) are getting balanced and proper nutritional intake. I'm not going to be satisfied with Happy Meals and American Cheese. Or [the Enemy]: high-fructose corn syrup.

I have always eaten what is considered "healthy", but I don't think I was anywhere near the nutso path I'm headed on right now. I'm glad, though. I want to get a little nutty. Eating well requires training - knowing how to cook; understanding the role that proteins, fats, and carbohydrates play; eating more fruits and vegetables on a daily basis; knowing what the body needs to function. I'd like to train my offspring to eat wholesomely; so much so, that they won't even know what a Handi Snack or Ore Ida french fries are.

I'd like them to be cultural outsiders in the realm of American eating habits. Weirdos. Unless, of course, everyone else is eating like that too. Then I wouldn't mind fitting in with the masses. But I doubt that is going to happen anytime soon, if ever.

Merry Christmas

The A-List

Here's a list of the most common searches that land people on my blog:

• Tight Pants (uh-oh)
• Svenska Flicka
• Pumpkin-Apple [bread, muffins...most recently, loaf]
• Sinus Infection Remedies
• Peeing Babies

Scroogified

I'm in no mood for Christmas this year, with all its festivities.

Perhaps it is because:

1. Christmas is over-marketed
2. My family has been stuck down by the rotavirus for over a week
3. My toddler is teething all 4 molars at once
4. I thought I was going to be able to quit my job, but now I can't
5. My wonky upper left wisdom tooth is crowding my teeth and creating massive havoc
6. There is absolutely no snow outside - everything is varying shades of brown and gray
7. Our neighbors' dogs bark freely and frequently right outside our very thin side windows

Seriously - it has been nothing but despair and the dumps in my neck of the woods. Squeeze has lost 15 pounds since last week; he pooped nothing but water (10-15 times a day) for 5 days. The rotavirus also steals anything remotely related to an appetite. Starbeans is ultra-clingy and extremely touchy because of his smarting and swollen red gums, and I've reached wraith-status by losing another 5 pounds, down to 130; again, thanks to the rotavirus. I'm 5'9.

One lesson learned: Now that we have an active toddler, I need to be extra-diligent and anal about washing that tyke's hands when we are out in public; particularly if we are going to be at a children's event, like we were on Sunday the 10th (bloody rotavirus).

On a happier note, I am scheduled to have my nasty wisdom tooth extracted on January 2nd. I am literally counting down the days!

And...she's down!

The entire Borealis family is out for the count.

I didn't even know what day it was today; one or the other of us has been sick for one full week now. To say the very least, it has been the complete pits...complete with vomiting, diarrhea, joint pain, body aches, and massive acid reflux.

(The joy.)

It doesn't end

Now Squeeze is sick. (It is coming out of both ends - poor guy.) I'd better not succumb, or this ship is going down. I'm going to get out the juicer tomorrow and pump my loved ones full of apple-kale-ginger juice. That ought to do sumpin'.

Aunt Flow and more barfing tales

I am going on 7 (seven!!) days of having my period. The flow has been extremely heavy, which is very unusual for me. It has left me wondering about the first period after childbirth. Can other mothers share their experience(s) with me? It makes sense that the flow would be heavier, as the uterus hasn't sloughed for quite some time (almost a year and a half), but I'd like to have a little back-up in the Sista' Dept.

The Keeper (before-birth size) is working well for me, aside from the heavy flow. Emptying it once a day in the shower was sufficient enough before pregnancy and childbirth, but I've had to empty it several times a day to keep up. I'll give it a few more cycles before I make my move. I might be able to stick with the old girl, which would be very nice.

Starbeans was acting a bit more like himself this evening. He puked a few times today, but not since this afternoon. I'm hoping the worst is over with...? The first night, he threw up every hour or so. He also had terribly stinky diarrhea last night (the poor little guy), but today his poop has been as inoffensive as it was pre-solids. He hasn't had anything aside from milk and water since Sunday night and has been pooping like he did as a newborn - with every pee. I think the virus is slowly being worked out of his system. Thank goodness! It is terrible to watch him suffer like he has. Especially since this was his first time barfing ever. Throwing up is a miserable feeling. He has been whimpering a lot and laying his head on my shoulder while I hold him. It feels very good to know that I can comfort him; that he feels secure and calmed in my arms: it send a rushing current of motherly love into the depths of my heart - kind of like a river.

This sickness has also given me another boost in my appreciation for co-sleeping. Because he is so close to me, I have been able to detect his pre-barf behavior and make a run to the bathroom in time for almost every puke. He threw up in the bed 3 times, but that isn't bad compared to the 10-15 times of night-time barfing he had the last couple of nights, and 2 out of the 3 were the first 2 times. Poor thing. He'd start rolling around and moaning, which was my signal to pick the kid up and RUN; we made it to the tub on time every time.

Poor little Monkey.

Brother Barf, Sister Puke

Ack! I've been cleaning up (and covered in) vomit since last night; and comforting a whimpering vomity baby. Poor thing.

Think of me...

Surfing the Crimson Tide

I discovered this morning what has been causing my undisclosed angst these past few days...my menstral cycle. I got my period for the first time in two years! I find that to be an amazing fact. I'm still nursing, too - but things have obviously slowed down a bit. Starbeans is 16 months.

I've enjoyed my break, but it is nice to have the old girl back.

Yep: you read that right. I was starting to worry about the ins and outs of conception with the absence of my monthly cycle: not that we're trying, but it's nice to know that I don't need to read about it when the time comes.

I'm back with The Keeper. It took awhile to find it! I am going to see how it holds up (things seem to be going well so far), as the post-birth size is recommended for women who have had children. I don't want to rush out and buy a new one if the old one works just as well. I'll keep(er) you posted.

I'm parched

I haven't been blogging much recently: I've found that when I'm stressed, the words just don't flow. I can't even think of anything to say (aside from complaining, which nobody wants to hear).

So instead, I'll post a picture of Starbeans with a chicken at my parents' house.

We had a very good visit. My parents and siblings enjoyed him so much; and this time, he was able to consciously enjoy them as well. He learned how to say "haaaaaat" (to their wood stove) and a cheery "hiiiiiii" as he walked into whatever room we were in. He learned how to go down stairs backwards, jump on a trampoline (kind of), and tried his hand at picking up cats.

The highlight of our 2-week stay was the amazing snowstorm on Sunday and Monday the 26th and 27th. The northern part of Western WA was covered with a foot of snow. So much snow, in fact, that the trees were bent under the weight: any time outside was accompanied by the grand cracking of tree limbs ripping off and falling to the ground. A sad event, but a terrific crashing noise. My parents had two trees - a dogwood and a pretty little coral maple - that split in half under the weight. We were especially sad about that.

This picture was taken the first night of the storm.

But the most exciting part is that my parents were out of electricity for 5 days. Because they heat with a wood stove and have a gas oven range, we were cozy and well-fed. We brought in bags and bowls of snow to keep the refrigerator cold and put all the frozen goods outside in coolers. Amazingly enough, my mother had a HUGE back-stock of candles. So our evenings were spent in front of the wood stove reading to each other in the candle-light. It was absolutely, positively, gloriously lovely. I'm still reveling in it.

All smiles

My current most favorite thing about Starbeans is the sweet 8-toothed grins he gives me while we are snuggling right before bed. Oh, and the precious closed-mouthed sleepy smiles he gives me while we are snuggling in the morning right after we wake up.

It's just so cute.

My big boy

Weren't you just a baby?

Gnarled and knotty

I picked two apples yesterday from my grandparents' apple tree; there were more, but I picked only what was within arm's reach from the ground. Starbeans and I ate one of them, my grandparents shared the other. My grandpa chomped on a slice of it while my grandma ate hers like an orange wedge, leaving the peel on her plate.

The apples were big, juicy, and crisp: pleasantly sweet with greenish-yellow skin and a hint of red. My mom thought they may be "King" apples (perhaps Tompkins King?).

My grandparents live in the house his dad built from scrap lumber when he was in high school, replacing the original house. It is located on the original homestead of his mother's father, on a flood plain in a river valley. The Stilliguamish river flows a mile or so from their house. (I have many memories of their flooded basement and fields-turned-lake.)

The apple tree was planted when my grandpa was in grade school: we ate the fruit of an 80 year old tree. It is gnarled and covered with lichens and moss. Even the twigs that the apples grow off of look ancient: thick and knotty like an old man's knuckles, instead of smooth and new.

I like knowing that such an old tree can produce such lovely fruit. It is also interesting to think about how many generations have eaten and used the apples: my guess is five - Starbeans, me & my siblings, my parents, my grandparents, and my great-grandparents.

Someday, I'll have my own apple tree...

Rain, rain, [don't] go away

11:00 o'clock and all is well.

I am at my parents' house in Western WA, where I will be for the next two weeks - my first Thanksgiving at home in 10 years. We flew out last night at 10:00 pm.

We've flown 5 times since Starbeans (15.5 months) was born and it gets progressively worse each time. The more mobile and aware of his surroundings he becomes, the less he wants to be confined to mama's lap in a tiny seat. However, he did amazingly well - I was so pleased. The older couple we were sitting by requested to move: although they wanted me to have the luxury of space, I'm sure it was for their sanity as well. Who wants to sit next to a squirmy toddler?? Thanks to their thoughtfulness, we had an entire 3 seats to ourselves. It was such a relief. I sat in the middle, with him in the window seat and entertained him with books, puzzle-books, nursing, and the window. He finally fell asleep half-way through when I started snuggling and singing to him (nursery rhymes, of course); nothing else had worked up until that point.

Starbeans is sleeping right now - the poor little guy has a lot to catch up on after last night's excitement. In Minneapolis, we spent a lot of time in the arcade where he stared at the flashing lights and even turned a steering wheel or two. At the Seattle airport, he was enthralled with the baggage carousel: toddling around it two or three times with Grandpa O. trailing behind. This morning, he chased my parents' dachshund around and rifled through my sister's room. It's going to be a fun couple of weeks at Grandma and Grandpa's house!!

It is lovely to be home. My parents heat with a wood burning stove, with gives the house a cozy feel. It is wonderfully dreary outside, with a cloudy sky and the constant drizzle of rain and wind whipping the trees. It feels so good. I love the way it looks; I love the way it feels; I love the way it smells.

I love rain. Love it.

Hickory Dickory Dock

Hickory Dickory Dock,
The mouse ran up the clock.
The clock struck one,
The mouse ran down!
Hickory Dickory Dock.





I love nursery rhymes. I didn't realize it, but Hickory Dickory Dock has 12 stanzas! I need to learn them so I don't have to repeat the same one over and over while I'm singing it.

Starbeans is now consistently signing "milk" and "all-done". It is so nice to actually have some communication other than pointing and shrieking "ee-eee-ehhh!!"

I know he understands me, but so far, he hasn't verbalized much. He does know what a cow, doggie, and kitty says; he is starting to make "hiiiii" and "byeeeee" noises while he's waving 'hello' and 'goodbye'; and he started clapping (on his own) during the song "If you're happy and you know it". He is so dang cute - sometimes I can hardly look at him without feeling all squidgy inside. What I am going to do when he's not my baby anymore??

Today we took him to the library - he plays with puzzles in the children's area, then we went outside and laughed at him running down (small) hills. He only fell once: the very first time. Then he gathered his bearings and toddled quickly down the (tiny) slopes like a roly-poly baker's man.

It is amazing to watch him change and grow and have opinions about things - like wanting to go outside. That is his big thing right now; kind of a bummer, now that it is getting so cold. We are going to have to find him a snow suit for the winter, then he'll be nice and toasty.

Sew what?

My mom gave me her old sewing machine the summer before I turned 23. That was the summer I graduated from college; as well as the year Squeeze and I were married. I wasn't sure how to use it at first, but I was grateful for it: the potential was exciting.

Not unlike canning, I wanted to start on something easy. My main goal was to use it with enough frequency to keep myself familiar with the workings of the machine. At some point, I'd like to get a little more heavy-duty with it (why on earth didn't I give it a try before I had a baby??). However, for now the answer is: gift bags. No patterns, pretty to look at, re-usable.


I've been making them each winter for 4-5 years now: both sides of the family has enough built up to use each year. We trade them back and forth every Christmas; my eventual goal is to phase out wrapping paper completely. I purchased the holiday-themed cloth at our local fabric store after Christmas, with the post-holiday-craze discount prices: 50% or more off, I believe.

They are so easy - simply:

• Cut to fit the particular present
• Hem the top on each side
• Stitch up the sides

You can use it as a bag, with ribbon tied around the top. Or, like I did last year (pictured), use the bags like wrapping paper and fold to fit: secure with ribbons and bows.

Here is another inside into my insanity: I save all the excess ribbon, bows, and ties each holiday to use the following year. Why throw them out?

Gift bags don't have to be limited to Christmas: with the right fabric, they can be used for any gift-giving occasion or birthday. They are pretty, interesting to look at, fun to make, and twice as fun to give.

Svenska flicka

God morgon! (That means "good morning" in Swedish)

I'm really getting into this whole Borealis family history thing. I requested an English-Swedish dictionary from the library - I want to at least slip in a Swedish word here or there in my emails to Lars. I feel like such a lunk, writing to him in English - knowing full well that the brunt of translation lies on his shoulders. Now, his English is more adequate than my non-existent Swedish, but still...

I am spending good chunks of precious free-time examining family trees, pictures, birth-dates, and names. It is really interesting! I've found that I really adore the name Birgitta - several generations of Swedish Borealis women have this name. I also like the name Mats - isn't it cute?

Hej då
(goodbye!)

That Guy and W.W.

My brother was That Guy for Halloween, and his friend, Jessica, was Wonder Woman. Don't they look fabulous??

Show off ---

Look what I did this weekend:

Cranberries!

Good old Lars

Have you ever googled yourself? I suppose most people have; but listen to this story:

Squeeze googled himself several weeks ago, looking for his high school track records (I'm married to a track & field super-star: he went to state in 4 events several years in a row). During the search, he saw his name in a Danish heritage website; following the link, he found his family the subject of detailed conversation. Lars, a Swedish Borealis, was looking for the American descendents of his family: his father's father came to the US as an old man in 1897 and was listed as suffering from "senility" on the Ellis Island record. Some of his sons stayed in Sweden, while other came to the States.

The website is a forum to help people track down geneological information; they researched & provided family history that Squeeze's parents weren't even aware of: Ellis Island records, occupations, census records, etc.

We emailed Lars and the forum volunteer to introduce ourselves and get more information, and several weeks later - family reunion! We are exchanging email, letters, and pictures; and Lars sent us a detailed family tree that dates back to the 1700's. Amazing.

Lars' father was first cousin to Squeeze's Great-grandpa Axel. Now is that fodder for an excellent middle name, or what???

In short: what a small, big world.
All through the power of The Internets.

The Scarlet Butt-crack

I feel like posting something dreamy; not a complaint, like "Why does my neighbor insist on showing her butt-crack?"

But seriously: why does she?

For those who check my Currently Reading list, yes - I've been reading The Scarlet Letter for nigh on a month now. Maybe more. I read mostly while I'm pumping at work, which is only 3 days a week; so I don't get anywhere very quickly. I spot-read other things, but a novel: that is a different story.

I find myself drifting while reading it. Hawthorne goes into such deep detail about the physical surroundings, back-history, inner-thoughts, emotions, etc. - I get off track. I really like it, though, especially when little Pearl says things like "What does the letter mean, mother? - and why dost thou wear it?" or "Why doth the minister sit yonder?"

I'm going to make a list of books that I enjoyed as a youngster. By youngster, I mean junior high and younger - both books I read, as well as those that were read to me by my father and aunt.

• The Secret Garden
• A Little Princess
• The Trolley Car Family
• The Boxcar Children
• Veronica the Show-off
• SuperFudge
• Anne of Green Gables
• Anne of Avonlea
• Anne of the Island
• The Hobbit
• Lord of the Rings - Fellowship, Two Towers, Return of the King
• The Chronicles of Narnia
• A Wrinkle in Time
• At the Back of the Northwind
• The Little House books
• Little Women
• Reader's Digest
• Life magazine
• Baby-sitter's Club books

I also read countless Nancy Drew books, but can't remember even one story-line or plot. I recognize book covers, but that is it. Interestingly, while I find Reader's Digest incredibly boring and hum-drum as an adult, I couldn't wait for each issue to come as a elementary-aged kid. I read those things from cover-to-cover: very odd, methinks.

I conclude this post with revealing one of my favorite books of all time: Jane Eyre. I love it. I love it! It is definitely in my Top Five.

The Night Diaper: Part II

Now that we've been using our wool diaper covers for a couple of months, the time has come to re-lanolize them. This replaces the depleted oils that naturally occur in wool that keep them water-proof and smelling fresh. It is recommended to do this on a semi-regular basis. I noticed that it was time because the diaper covers seemed to smell stronger in the mornings (when the diaper is wet). You can smell the urine on the cover when it is wet, but once it dries out - the scent is gone. This was starting to not be the case, so I re-lanolized them and ta-da! Back to normal.

Here's how:

• Wash & rinse the diaper cover like normal - cool water, wool wash, swish/squeeze the water through
• Fill the bottom of the sink (or bowl) with hot water - this allows the lanolin, which is an oil, to dissolve
• Add a squeeze of lanolin (I used Lanisoh) & swish the water around
• Add more water to the sink, so it is room temperature (or cooler)
• Put the wool cover in the water/lanisoh mix and let it soak for 15 minutes
• Don't rinse - roll in towel & press out excess moisture like normal
• Lay flat to dry, away from heat & sun

I've been washing our wool diaper covers every 2 weeks; I will probably re-lanolize them either every wash, or every other wash, depending on my observations and added experience.

Oh, the weather

I read a comment posted on a blog yesterday that got me thinking. The commenter said, "We have nice weather year-round because we live in California". Nice weather. Year-round.

What does that mean?

Television weathermen seem to be obsessed with it. At this time of year, it is the elusive 50-60 degree day: clear skies, a light breeze, warm in the sunshine.

But what about Midwestern thunderstorms? Or drizzly spring days in the Pacific Northwest? How about a bitterly cold, bright snowy day in the middle of January? I love these days - I love that weather. Sure: "nice" days are pleasant enough, but don't we want a little variety to spice it up and keep things interesting?

Speaking of television news anchors, they seem peppy about the weather only when it will be warmer than usual in the fall/winter/spring, or cooler than usual in the summer; at least, in Minnesota. Then they can yuk it up with their cohorts, helmet hair and baubled necklaces in place, and talk about how the weather is going to be so lovely.

So nice.

Maybe I just shouldn't watch the news. But unfortunately for me, Squeeze is a television weatherman junkie.