Foodie in the making.

Monkeys!

Last night was the first night that Ana put herself to sleep.
I can't describe the wonderful feeling I had that I didn't have to rock and nurse, rock and nurse. I simply nursed her, and then laid her in her crib and gave her one of her monkeys.



She made one playing noise "Da", yawned twice, and that was it. 15 minutes later we went in to check on her, and she was sound asleep, clutching her monkey. She loves her monkey.



The funny thing is, these monkeys were once scary uncle Marky's monkeys when he was a boy.



Yes, that is his real smile. We get that question a lot.
Anyhow, that's the story There is much jubilation at the farm and rejoicing over the monkeys.

I miss you 70's Grover.

Has anyone else noticed that cartoons for young kids really kind of stink these days? The other day, I flipped on some cartoons just to see what Ana had to look forward to. And, to be frank, she won't be watching those cartoons. Because they were violent, or crass, or promoted character unbefitting any little girl.

It brought me back to the days of yore. When I was a wee lass, my mom would make me a PB&J sandwich and let me unwind from a hard morning of preschool in front of Sesame Street. It was so innocent and fun. I miss those days. I hope we can find something fun for Ana to watch. If not, I'm sure we can find DVDs of old Muppet shows.

In the meantime, maybe you have some free time and want to have some unwind time of your own? I know Carrie does because she just broke her arm snowboarding.
For your viewing pleasure, one of my all time fave Sesame Street segments.

Good thing our nearest neighbor is a half mile away.

I'm doing something I haven't done since I found out I was pregnant with Ana. I'm having a Diet Coke.
Let the belching commence.

Ana has recently found the excitment that is repeatedly opening the cupboard full of heavy pots and pans. More than that, she has been enjoying listening to her mom saying "no!" over and over and over. So, yesterday Dan and I took on the challenge of fixing door catchers on all our kitchen cupboards. At first, I volunteered to do it myself, so Dan could concentrate on bringing in enough firewood to last this next cold snap. There was a slight learning curve because, you know, I've never used a drill before.

Needless-to-say, Dan intervened when it became obvious that I didn't know what I was doing.

So, our afternoon was filled with some of this:

A little of that:


But mostly this:


And now, Dan will compose and post some smarty comment that will reveal his side of the story.

Side note:
It is January 28th, it is 40 degrees and raining. Tomorrow morning, if everything goes as the weatherman says, we'll be waking to 7 degrees below zero. Nipples.

Sweet.

Over the last 24 hours, we've only used 1 gallon of heating oil. This is in comparison to the 3 or 4 that would probably otherwise have been burnt.
Granted, it's been a wee bit warm out, but last night it did get down to the singles. SO, I tip my glass to our wood burning furnace. Without you, we may have gone broke this month.

It is C-c-c-c-cold!

But not too cold.
We are trying out our wood burning furnace full time this week.
Here's hoping it will help cut costs on heating oil.
So far, I've only heard the oil furnace start up once this morning.
Here's a shot of our little money saver for the curious.



In other news, I went to the grocery store yesterday to pick up some milk.
Egad. $4.50 per gallon for conventional. So expensive that I opted to get the tastier, healthier, but usually way more expensive organic kind. Now that conventional milk is so expensive, organic seems reasonable (shocking in itself). $5.50 for a gallon of o-milk.
Yes-s-s-s-s!
I asked Dan what the deal was with milk prices (he usually knows these things. I'm not sure how). Corn prices are through the roof since ethanol has become so popular. Conventional cows eat a lot of corn, whereas the diet of o-cows is mostly hay. Ergo, the cost to feed conventional cows is more expensive and the cost is passed down to the consumer.
Just another reason to buy organic.

Uh-oh.

Time to start wearing your belt.
Ana is walking to a pant leg near you.

Mid-week blah.

Not much to report.
It's Wednesday and Ana is napping.
We've been staying in Minneapolis since last Thursday since Dan has been working in the St. Paul office with a consultant. We get to go home Friday night though. And I am a bit excited because our seeds are starting to arrive in the mail!
WOO HOO!
Nothing like ending winter early with the arrival of seeds!
Bonus: Dan picked up about a dozen more taps for our maples.
Hot diggety.

Socks.

Well, she did it.
Ana finally figured out how to get her shoes and socks off.
Smart.
Someone is going to have cold little toesies for the remainder of the winter.
But not the smartest.

St. Agnes

Happy feast of St. Agnes, a martyr for Christ!

Today, me, Dan and Ana had lunch with our friend Fr. Joseph. And of course, as I was driving home afterward, I heard him doing a segment on Relevant Radio about martyrdom. He always says these things better than I. It went a little something like this: "We are uncompromising in our faith because we have our eye on eternity."
Father, if you're reading this, and I goofed, please correct me. But I think I got the gyst. We can all me martyrs just like St. Agnes, everyday and in so many situations.

Oh, and before you do that, have a beer! We're Catholic for crying out loud!

It's good to feel needed.

When I woke up this morning, it was a balmy 17 below. Hmmm, looks like Ana will be staying home with Grandma while I go to Mass. I must say, Ana loves her grandma (and the other grandma) with a heart that makes me wonder if I'm really needed anymore?

When I left, she didn't even give me a second look. She was already giggling with grandma. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out, Mom," She seemed to be thinking.

When I returned an hour later, Ana was still giggling with Grandma. Except this time, when I peeked around the corner at her, I was met with anxious and exciting eyes. Ah yes, I am still the mother here. There's no feeling like it.

Course, it turns out, the anxious eyes were for a very specific purpose. Grandmas don't have mamamilk.

Patience.

Yesterday, Ana got up at around 5:45 (Or thereabouts. Dan got up with her that time.)
Her daily naps are dwindling down to nothing.
Today, she got up at 4:30.

Dan rolled over when his alarm went off at 6 and asked Ana what she was doing up already. I wanted to say, bags under my eyes, "Ana wants to see how evil mommy can be when she's sleep deprived." Not that Ana wants to play, or that Ana might have a tummy ache, or simply that Ana is having a hard time getting back to sleep. No, it's about mommy not getting enough sleep. Because it's ALL ABOUT MOMMY.

It isn't until now, now that Ana is with her grandma, and the sleep fog has finally lifted with my third cup of nectar (er, coffee), that I can be honest about what was going on this morning. Mommy is having a hard time seeing past herself these days. Or all days, for that matter. Marriage and motherhood has certainly helped bring out this previously hidden (at least from my eyes) aspect of my personality.

You see, Dan has this selflessness mechanism that allows him to be up all night with Ana without any heavy sighing, or cursing, or anger of any sort. When I see that, my heart swells with love and admiration. Yes, Dan is my hero. And I strive to be like him.

In the meantime, I should be off to confession and Mass for the graces to be like Christ. And maybe the next time Ana has an off day, I can have more patience.

There's gotta be a patron saint for the children of falliable parents.

Here kitty kitty.

After Dan and I had our date last night (see previous post), I went to feed Stewart. As usual, the barn kittens were swarming paying no mind to the fact that they have their own food in the barn. They like Stewart's better, and Stewart is too much of a weanie to chase them away. City cats.

Anyhoo, one barn kitty is particularly brazen and didn't scat when I shooed the others away. So, I let him stay while I pet Stewart. The kitty came closer and closer. And then, OMG (as Jennifer's 12-year old daughter Makayla would say), the kitty let me pet him! He must love me. That or he wanted Stewarts food bad enough.

The barn cats are getting more used to us. Recently, they discovered the joys of just-turned-off car engines.

Last night, Dan and I got to go on an impromptu date, made possible by Grandpa Wambeke. We went to see the play Alessandro put on at the Marshall High School Auditorium by Jeremy Stanbury.

To be short, it was powerful.
The story is about the conversion of the man, Alessandro who killed St. Maria Goretti when she refused his advances. Jeremy did an amazing job with the story, and with his performance.

St. Maria Goretti is the patron saint of youth because. She is a great intercessor for our young 'uns who struggle with purity.

Have some cash you don't know what to do with, and let's be honest, who doesn't?
Give some of it to Jeremy's little production company Epiphany Studios.

Thigh master.

Today was Ana's one month check up. Apparently she's really long and kinda skinny. So, I asked the nurse, point blank, are we looking at the same thighs?

Here's the obligatory, but nevertheless adorable, naked baby in the tub shot. You can even see a little cheek!

Irony of Ironies.

Dan and I decided to cloth diaper Ana for many reasons. The first, to save the whales. The second, to save our bank account. We've done a good job on both. But, what I didn't realize is that there is a whole world of cloth diapers out there. One can use the cheap of the cheap diapers to the decadent. And, it seems, the more money you're willing to plunk the softer the diaper.

At first, we were set on using only using the cheap diapers: prefolds. They are great diapers and very economical. One of us, though, didn't want to learn how to fold them right. Which one of us could that be? So, we bought a dozen fitted diapers, which are softer and easier to put on the baby. More money though. But still, far and away cheaper than disposables.

As time goes on, I can't help but notice that there are some seriously swanky diapers out there. Most of the time, I have resisted the urge to upgrade Ana's bottom accessories successfully. After all, we have a system in place with our prefolds and terry cloth fitteds. But then, I saw these http://www.thegoodmama.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=71_80&products_id=409. Oh, hurt me. Organic velour bamboo, organic hemp. Talk about soft on the behind. I'm dying here. No sacrilege intended, but these are the pope of cloth diapers. Other diapers could learn a thing or three from these.

Then I saw the price tag. $33 a poop. Sacre blue! What began as a money saving project could be turning into a bank account bleeding ordeal.

However, look at it this way (I'm good at this). Even if we bought a whole stash of 12 ($365 for enough diapers to last from birth to potty training), we'd still be saving money hand over fist ($2000 plus for disposibles). But the old prefolds (which are looking scratchier by the minute) are just as good, I keep telling myself. Again and again and again.

And again.

Sigh.

Finally.

I have found the bread that satisfies my taste for not only a healthful and toothsome sandwhich bread, but also a light and moist one. ( ... men ... de ... that's for you Carrie.)

I just throw her in the bread machine dough setting, let it rise one more time in my bread pan, 30 minutes at 350 degrees and voila. Instant lunch. From start to honey slathered finish, about 2 and a half hours. That's nothin.

1 c. buttermilk room temp
3/4 c. water warm
1 1/2 t. salt
3 T. sugar
3 T. melted butter
1/2 t. baking soda
2 c. all purpose flour
2 c. whole wheat flour, stone ground
1/4 c. rolled oats
3 T. ground flaxseed
1 T. instant yeast


Methinks it's the buttermilk that makes it so moist and light.

Here's my loaf that just came out.
Fancy schmancy picture!
Ugh, it took me like 15 minutes to decide on lighting, and it still looks amatuer. Well, whatayagonnado? At least you get the picture (get it?).



Tasty.

Birthday, birthday.

Ana is One year old today.
Help me.
I'm going to blink, and she's going to be in Kindergarten.
Tissue? Anyone have a tissue?

Here is Ana with her auntie Mary when she was only a week old (Ana, not Mary)



And here she is as an old woman.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PON!

Yesterday (I’m a day late) was my aunt Pon’s birthday.
When we were very little, Pon came to stay with us for four years. They were great years. Filled with trips to target on the bus, picking strawberries, and seeing just how double-jointed Pon’s fingers were (very). Pon was such an integral part of our family that Mary (who was a wee babe when she joined us) called her Pon-mom.
We miss having you here Pon!
We hope you had a Happy Birthday!

What cats do when no one's looking.

Memory Street

Most people have an envelope, or a drawer, or a room, where we keep the things of our childhood: drawings, poems, science projects, a few dolls perhaps. We rarely look at them. But when we do, it usually turns into an afternoon of happy memories.

Well, this last weekend, Dan spent some time going through his vast stacks of childhood memorabila. It was his sad but self-appointed time to finally go through and throw most of it away. His time was spent picking up an item, considering it, sometimes turning it upside down (or right side up as it turned out), sighing wistfully, and then chucking it, trying hard not to look back. Indeed, it was something of an exercise in detachment.

But one piece met a standard in his mind that called for more than a few moments of recollection before being quietly discarded. It was something an atari or matchbox car could never touch. As a boy, Dan labored over it with single-minded determination and perserverance. It helped shape him into the man he is today. Dan tearfully photographed it to be remembered forever. And I have found this photograph.

Apologies

Dan insists that I note an addition to woman food as noted in the previous post.

In addition to salmon, greens and brothy tofu soups, we also ate cheetos and mesquite smoked potato chips. So sue us.

My mom.

I love my mommy.

Whilst Dan was in St. Paul these last two days, my mom made the 3 hour drive to keep me company.

Mom's are great. You can completely be yourself when they're around. You don't have to worry about entertaining them because they're always entertained. And best of all, the two of you can eat the highly sought after woman food together without having to make a seperate meal for the men (who dined together at my parents Minneapolis home).

We ate: lots of salmon, greens, and brothy soups with tofu and cabbage. They ate: steak and tater tot hot dish.

This pic is of my mommy and Ana taken yesterday. It's for my dad who wanted to see a picture of Ana doing her new thing: pointing.

Move Over

Cuz I'm coming through.

Poor Ana. Not that you can tell, but she hasn't been feeling well at all for the past week, and couldn't shake the fever. So, we brought her in and it's offical. She has a double ear infection. We're the worst parents in the world. Or feel like it.


She's taking a much needed rest right now, after which she should hopefully be feeling up to more tearing about the house.