tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28771947156032269102024-03-05T21:20:15.879-08:00My Life as a Hermit...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.comBlogger145125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-77070511974219090182015-04-19T11:44:00.001-07:002015-04-19T11:44:48.218-07:00Fare Thee Well, Princess Carol<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSzCkmMLAUPtT5onQv8YBOtHdgW2TsO1bhv1qj9yTMNj05sie2PW2uLjP6Brp_0UqqUpaUJ5Ai7GdEwbI5ygPkWHa2WpLA03-MEJ7OBNrJpSIK7zMUKYRlGPCxl4_EFEM6-QmyBVGzTC97/s1600/IMG_0064.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSzCkmMLAUPtT5onQv8YBOtHdgW2TsO1bhv1qj9yTMNj05sie2PW2uLjP6Brp_0UqqUpaUJ5Ai7GdEwbI5ygPkWHa2WpLA03-MEJ7OBNrJpSIK7zMUKYRlGPCxl4_EFEM6-QmyBVGzTC97/s1600/IMG_0064.jpg" height="162" width="200" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Carol played a very large role in my childhood memories.
Grandma and Grandpa Beckett looked after me while my mom worked, and, after
grandpa passed, Carol lived with us until grandma passed, so I spent just about
every day with her until I was 9. I remember swinging on swings with her,
playing in grandma and grandpa’s backyard after the rain… Trying to convince
her to eat my mud pies decorated with snails…</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihkrfokEZt9LpszTrzTrYZLfd0LnRxrgH-0nG38mjAUZ5MukwK0jbMlYOTq9euGqWHbbRNLNhWNUWHk5KVgKgIyR-cj71bHh9zKJxNwPALhvu0yPDuwLp5QGxBfl-0Tb4MT6QUCPFj7CBM/s1600/IMG_0078.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihkrfokEZt9LpszTrzTrYZLfd0LnRxrgH-0nG38mjAUZ5MukwK0jbMlYOTq9euGqWHbbRNLNhWNUWHk5KVgKgIyR-cj71bHh9zKJxNwPALhvu0yPDuwLp5QGxBfl-0Tb4MT6QUCPFj7CBM/s1600/IMG_0078.jpg" height="224" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> From a very young age I knew she was different. I admit I
spent many hours peeking through her bedroom door just watching her. She would sing and dance, draw, and play with
her wigs… her creepy, freaky wigs, combing their hair, putting them in rollers,
then taking out the rollers and styling their hair, repeating the process a
couple of days later. She fascinated me, and as I reflect, I realize that although
she was different she embodied everything that we are. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvWU1vt6ZBYV_98jREppFJdJqADjvSCkSbhu0rCyt87y9GFLqD74XSRx7Abs30jk7w_951J3-lQpMxjtBpLVx-SwbYPELkwYniyuBpkuA3abyZExgEiditzzphzjeGbkCL729HEeuS8Jz/s1600/IMG_0261.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvWU1vt6ZBYV_98jREppFJdJqADjvSCkSbhu0rCyt87y9GFLqD74XSRx7Abs30jk7w_951J3-lQpMxjtBpLVx-SwbYPELkwYniyuBpkuA3abyZExgEiditzzphzjeGbkCL729HEeuS8Jz/s1600/IMG_0261.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> What she lacked in cognition she made up for in spunk. She
was quirky, creative, loving, she loved to laugh, and, like all Beckett women,
she was a stubborn old bitty who had to have things her way.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> She loved cats so much I sometimes worried she’d hug them to
death. One year, our three cats all had kittens at the same time. We had 18 kittens
and I’m sure Carol thought she was in heaven. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNark7Zb1Ii8HEyqxNs0opUGMg_PK4faGon2iwCoacEWMDBW1HM96ofL-v2IcZ2gMvzoxRNQjSiLPS00P74nT2ygrsoF73lz3OARs55G0AaaswDiQH5fmqK6ZUXdoqYgBSgRPUDU63iZPv/s1600/IMG_0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNark7Zb1Ii8HEyqxNs0opUGMg_PK4faGon2iwCoacEWMDBW1HM96ofL-v2IcZ2gMvzoxRNQjSiLPS00P74nT2ygrsoF73lz3OARs55G0AaaswDiQH5fmqK6ZUXdoqYgBSgRPUDU63iZPv/s1600/IMG_0004.jpg" height="200" width="155" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> She loved music. I remember sitting in her room and playing
her record player, listening to her 45 of Disco Duck over and over and over
again… and she was quite proud of her velvet Elvis picture.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> She loved to create. She would make squiggle drawings
where she would draw a big circle and fill it with figure eights and tons of
other lines, then color each segment a different color. I remember watching her
tearing pages from a book, then circling groups of letters all throughout the
page, connecting different words together with her circles, blacking out some
letters here and there. When I asked her what she was doing, she told me she
was “making words”. I argued with her, of course, telling her that they were <i>already</i> words, and I tried to convince
her to let me teach her how to read. But she liked her way better.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSV9nUmPzI7kpmzxQYGVaMwI5niOxF7tv65J_O6NOQf5xhEtJcR0W5fZPBUYJqC5LoNCr4HSb5BBdiRk0ZC-tuYMKyJiNdNyfIKgqUfZF8R1ggC07CqozNfr8_hAeVeuJr0xr4OvfoQYju/s1600/IMG_0206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSV9nUmPzI7kpmzxQYGVaMwI5niOxF7tv65J_O6NOQf5xhEtJcR0W5fZPBUYJqC5LoNCr4HSb5BBdiRk0ZC-tuYMKyJiNdNyfIKgqUfZF8R1ggC07CqozNfr8_hAeVeuJr0xr4OvfoQYju/s1600/IMG_0206.jpg" height="200" width="130" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> She loved anything sparkly or pink. She loved painting her
nails. She loved sparkly jewelry. She loved her tiara. She beamed when she wore
it. It made her feel beautiful, just like we all want to be.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> It’s hard losing her, which may seem weird to some people.
Carol and I were not close as relatives go, but Carol always held a large place
in my heart. She was the relative that you loved when you were a kid because
she was kind of a kid, too. But then you grew up. And she didn’t, really, and you eventually outgrew her. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to. She reminded me of the happiest
parts of my childhood. Losing her is like losing the last little thread that
connected me to that part of my life, to my grandparents, to a time when I felt
the most loved. It is hard to let go of that.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> I am not religious, and I honestly don’t believe in misty
heavens and pearly gates. I would like to believe in something magical beyond this
life. That this is not just an end. That somehow she finds peace, and the
ability to be as silly and as sparkly and as beautiful as she can be. So I will
imagine her now in a pink feather boa and a tiara, just the way she should be. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> You rock on with your spunk and pink feathers, Auntie Carol. Say hello to
Grandma and Grandpa for me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje2m1eOs6yqFPHjOMG_a0LQ6cgmPvI5hhzt0jz2H4ISOU9zpAveu1dCso0UtqMpRMXJFUNuQgoCNsmXrVttX9ITx7Ts6-KRey75iUm84A7i4ZEFXIUhyphenhyphenY5aaw-w8iXLatHzt-n5McbL9Ba/s1600/35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje2m1eOs6yqFPHjOMG_a0LQ6cgmPvI5hhzt0jz2H4ISOU9zpAveu1dCso0UtqMpRMXJFUNuQgoCNsmXrVttX9ITx7Ts6-KRey75iUm84A7i4ZEFXIUhyphenhyphenY5aaw-w8iXLatHzt-n5McbL9Ba/s1600/35.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-91884235048612190052014-11-25T15:18:00.000-08:002015-04-19T10:06:20.017-07:00Dorian at 16 mos - a long overdue updateHe's just not a baby anymore. Mostly. He's such a little boy.<br />
<br />
He's walking. Running. Talking. Signing.<br />
<br />
He says:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>No. - but thankfully not always in context. So it's still kinda cute. He shakes his head "no" also, but I'm not sure he knows what that indicates yet. When he means it, his tone is very curt. Recently, he's starting pointing to things he knows he's not supposed to touch and says a long drawn out "nooo" as he's touching them with his pointer finger.</li>
<li>Up. - This one is pretty new, but he's getting the hang of it. It's used when he wants to be picked up or to have help climbing onto something. We're practicing "down" but that one hasn't sunk in yet.</li>
<li>Nose (but sounds like "no").</li>
<li>Eye (but sounds like "ah"). He loves to say this as he pokes you in the eye.</li>
<li>Dog (but sounds like "dah"). Everything is a dog. The cat. A cow. Goats at the petting zoo. Every animal is a dog, but at least that means he's making associations.</li>
<li>Meow (but sounds like "ow"). It's pretty funny when he follows Weezul around the living room yelling "ow" every time the cat yowls to be let outside and away from the baby.</li>
<li>Dada. Kind of. He's said it a couple of times, but he's not using it regularly. He makes the "da" sound a lot, but not in context. </li>
<li>Ball (but sounds like "bah"). This was actually his first *real* word. Dog may have actually been first but we didn't catch it.</li>
</ul>
<div>
That's all I can think of. He understands so much more. He's also signing "milk", "more" and "eat" (or for us, it's "bite"). </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He's running. He loves to be chased, but plays the "I'm gonna get you" game backwards. When I say it, he runs towards me instead of away from me, which is actually very helpful when I'm trying to get him to do something. Recently, he's started hiding behind the curtains to play "Where is Dorian?" as well as using his hands to play peek-a-boo. Occasionally he gets too excited and smacks himself in the face when covering his eyes. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He likes to walk the dog. For a couple of months now, he grabs hold of the ring on the dog's harness and walks her around the living room. He's started to help me hold the leash when we go for walks. There is a house around the corner that has a couple of large dogs behind a chain link fence at the end of their driveway (in the back yard). They bark every time we walk by, and Dojo stops to yell at them. As we walk down the sidewalk, he stops and turns back to yell at them some more. That seems to be his MO when things scare him - he yells at them. He took on the train on the Mr Toad's Wild Ride at Disneyland. Just yelled at it. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
On one walk, he found a potato-sized rock on the sidewalk and carried it home. It lived on the front porch for a while, then on one of the stairs, then on the bumper of the car, now back on the stairs. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He loves Sesame Street. He dances when the song comes on. It started with a DVD my mom bought for him called "Let's Make Music". It is a Sesame Street DVD from 2001 that features members of STOMP. It has snippets of music from old episodes and is all about making music without instruments - singing, drumming, stomping, etc. There is a song where Bert sings about his oatmeal box and how it is a great drum. "Chicka-boom Chicka-boom!" It gets stuck in my head for days. Dojo loves that DVD and it evolved into full episode Sesame Street love. And anything with music. Hubbs has been playing short videos of military drum lines and Dojo is mesmerized by them. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He's climbing. On everything. Can't seem to find a toddler-friendly playground close by, though. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oh, and pandas! He's carrying around his (my) pands stuffed animals and pointing out their eyes and noses, and mouths and feet.. We took him to the zoo a couple of weeks ago and he lost his $h!t when he saw the panda. He started squealing and pointing and saying "Da!", which is what he says when he sees something he knows but cannot say, or when he's asking what something is. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He's discovered the song "head, shoulders, knees and toes" on his singing puppy doll, and will play it over and over and over and over. He learned where his head is, so he throws his hands up and holds his head then touches his toes. He can point out his head, eyes, ears, nose, mouth, belly button, feet and toes. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He's a busy little guy and I just can't keep up with him some days. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-63894723489438112902014-04-21T16:45:00.001-07:002014-04-21T16:45:24.715-07:0039 weeks ~ 9 months!4/18/14: The Dojo is 9 months old today! Here's what's shakin':<br />
<br />
*Crawling. He's still belly crawling, but he's fast. And sneaky. It took him only two days to figure out how to get through the baby gates if they are not latched properly. In fact, the other day he was playing near the gate between the living room and dining room. He pulled a book off of the bottom of the bookshelf (that I had to fill in because I caught him laying entirely in the empty bottom shelf playing with a soft block), and when I opened the gate to pick it up, he crawled between my legs and into the kitchen before I realized what was going on. Speedy, he is. I think he planned it, and executed it perfectly.<br />
<br />
*He is, however, beginning to get up onto his hands and knees, then his hands and feet. He's pulling himself up on very low things, usually me, when I sit on the floor with him. I'm not ready for what's coming. A lady at Target yesterday told me that her youngest son started walking at 9 months. N<i>nnooooooooo.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
*Food. This kid is eating everything in sight. His favorite food is anything he can put into his mouth by himself. Last night he tore up some broccoli and couscous. Purees frustrate him, so I am looking for interesting ways to use up the last of the baby food I have. (Any ideas for winter squash puree? Muffins?)<br />
<br />
*Biting. Yes. Four very sharp teeth. More on the way.<br />
<br />
*Sleeping? Sometimes. Just enough to fool me. Earlier this week he slept ALL the way through the night (until about 4 am) two nights in a row. The first night - <i>a fluke</i>? The second night - <i>could this really be it? </i>The third night - he woke up every two hours. Sigh. We're working on a graduated extinction method (sort of) so he'll learn to go to sleep at night on his own instead of being in my lap. It's been a little painful, but each night there is less crying, so I suppose that is the goal.<br />
<br />
*Babbling. He doesn't stop, unless there's a camera out, in which case he sits and stares blank faced and stoic. He's talking a lot, though, and doing the Cthulhu and the "indian" noises with Daddy. He's full blown laughing now, and I think the hysterical fits of giggles are right around the corner. Just need to find something he thinks is funny and see what happens. Also, I think I'm starting to understand his language. When he's distressed or wants to be moved/picked up/held, he makes a drawn out, higher pitched "<i>mmmmmm" </i>sound. If you ask him a question and the answer is "yes", he makes a short "<i>hmmph</i>" sound, sort of like a mini laugh. We are trying to learn the words "up", "hungry", "Ohs" (for Cheerios), and "no". To my dismay, "no" is a funny word, and the more serious I try to make my face and voice when I say it, the more he laughs. Figures.<br />
<br />
*This week he's started pressing his open mouth onto my face. Dojo kisses? I'm not sure, but I'll take it.<br />
<br />
In other news:<br />
<br />
*Yes, we had to butcher our tree :( It's pretty much just trunk back there now, with a growing fluff of green on one side. The tree guy said it will grow back in time, and said it looked as though someone had done the same thing further up a long time ago. It is nice, however, to not have a billion tiny leaves to contend with. Going to be a hot summer with no shade on the back end of the house, though.<br />
<br />
*A hummingbird has set up shop on our back porch. Her name is Millie, and she's building her nest on the string of lights we have hanging from the ceiling. She's right outside our kitchen window so I've been able to watch her. I've always wondered how birds weave their nests without hands, and now I know: I didn't see from the very beggingin, only from about the size of a dime. She brings material from other places, drops them into her nest, pokes her beak through like a sewing needle, then hovers above it while she uses her feet to move stuff around. We're on day three of nest building and it's looking like a proper nest now. So awesome. I'll try to get good pictures, but I won't be able to get high enough to see inside without disturbing her.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUyslw6tJZn9hS2Nm_9bukQzM7EpF_bnNx_9x0wAtcTwWJTcxT48yu66CaKSi_DXzL8O7-5Gpp7NYH1OPYw-xhPldRngvu5R2VMqXBX3bMvlhNgQsSL4o6ZMeLWEwh5TIRd-4D3vAKb-8C/s1600/dojo9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUyslw6tJZn9hS2Nm_9bukQzM7EpF_bnNx_9x0wAtcTwWJTcxT48yu66CaKSi_DXzL8O7-5Gpp7NYH1OPYw-xhPldRngvu5R2VMqXBX3bMvlhNgQsSL4o6ZMeLWEwh5TIRd-4D3vAKb-8C/s1600/dojo9.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-36576136071099233542014-03-01T10:00:00.001-08:002014-03-01T10:00:44.915-08:0032 weeks, holy crap!<p dir=ltr>This kid has changed so much from week to week. I'm sore with myself for not keeping up with this space, and failing to record new things as they happen. It's going to be rapid fire from here on out.</p>
<p dir=ltr>First, the gripe stuff:</p>
<p dir=ltr>Sleep. What? Who? Look! A shiny!</p>
<p dir=ltr>I have no brain power anymore. Can't plan, can't add. Going to the grocery store and trying to plan dinners for a week is suddenly the most challenging thing my entire life. I'm pushing the limits of sleep deprivation for sure. </p>
<p dir=ltr>Had a meltdown on Tuesday because I hadn't slept in four nights. Dojo is getting both a bottom tooth (his second) and a top tooth at the same time. Last weekend he was up every hour or two, and wasn't napping on top of it. If he did, it was a30 minute cat nap. Every time I tried to lay down, he would wake up just as I started to doze, or the dog would bark, or the cat would meow. I chased Weezul halfway down the hallway beating him with a pillow because he just wouldn't shut up.   I couldn't catch a break. </p>
<p dir=ltr>Finally, as if he knew I had lost it, he slept four hours at a stretch on Tuesday night, and a little better each night since. Napping is still all over the map, but that is getting better, too. He just fights sleep so hard. He wrestles and squeals and kicks. Some if the time I can lay him in his crib and he'll talk himself to sleep, but not always. It's a start.</p>
<p dir=ltr>He started scooting a couple of weeks ago. Like a caterpillar, he starts on his belly, crawls up onto his feet with his bum in the air, then puts his face down and slides on his forehead. It's pretty funny to watch. He only does it when there is something he really wants to get to (more often than not, it's my phone).</p>
<p dir=ltr>He's babbling a lot now. Mostly when he cries. I think it's hilarious. Currently, beeping his nose and tickling are funny. Oh! He's beginning to laugh! Right now it's only when you shake a toy in his face while he's lying on his back, like a kitten batting at a toy. But it is adorable. Will try to capture on video. </p>
<p dir=ltr>Oh, the baby in the mirror is pretty awesome too. And his jump chair. And breakfast. And bananas. And that noxious talking dog mom got him for Christmas. He smiles whenever he sees it.</p>
<p dir=ltr>We are having weekly play dates with Dove and Brody and Soren. He thinks other babies are awesome, and Dove tries to eat him.</p>
<p dir=ltr>In other news:</p>
<p dir=ltr> I got my diploma in the mail (woot) and we're planning for graduation. </p>
<p dir=ltr>The storm that whipped through here (and is still hanging around by the looks of it) broke our tree. Fortunately, it fell towards the neighbors and not onto Dojo's room. Hopefully we can salvage the tree and not have to cut it all down. </p>
<p dir=ltr>I think that sums it up for the moment. Can't believe this kid is 7 1/2 months old already. Life is a blur when you don't sleep.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfaSUUkTq3fTtFeC52kYCOniDFESu1jdaxN0D6_xsZpLq3GEgHLdGfEz28G6rt0tYhQZAhTByQDgDCJ46kdESWK-c5crxA1ryg5vyHPz4Ahl2mDiW1FgHVm4ddxH53wwqg46DOeJI91YVb/s1600/IMG_20140218_124722_806.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfaSUUkTq3fTtFeC52kYCOniDFESu1jdaxN0D6_xsZpLq3GEgHLdGfEz28G6rt0tYhQZAhTByQDgDCJ46kdESWK-c5crxA1ryg5vyHPz4Ahl2mDiW1FgHVm4ddxH53wwqg46DOeJI91YVb/s640/IMG_20140218_124722_806.jpg"> </a> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-77527373336140251012013-12-20T20:53:00.000-08:002013-12-20T21:01:01.420-08:0021 weeks12/13/13: I am DONE with school! Done, Done, Done! Yaaaaay!!<br />
<br />
12/14/13: We took a family trip to Knott's Berry Farm. It was much needed since Hubbs just finished both an online math class and his 2M school at work, and I finished with my classes all this week. It was a fun trip, spent the day wandering the shops, taking pictures, drinking mint chocolate beer, meeting Santa, etc. We saw the Christmas Snoopy on Ice show, which Dojo watched intently. We stayed the night, had breakfast on Sunday morning, then stopped at San Juan Capistrano on the way home. That was some great photo taking...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8pguZF5MGcGeHyR-F40uCHfTZdnj-5a2alGLbp3O0W6N2PbK58mh-mZRtUtLVFhLkM-9F2rENjfJOWAUpPNy6NX1Bq_JTCvAeAt_LKs7jLnLafgXyLdVsVCSBeH4wgC9tl5UP9g0JZ-KF/s1600/DSCN0489.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8pguZF5MGcGeHyR-F40uCHfTZdnj-5a2alGLbp3O0W6N2PbK58mh-mZRtUtLVFhLkM-9F2rENjfJOWAUpPNy6NX1Bq_JTCvAeAt_LKs7jLnLafgXyLdVsVCSBeH4wgC9tl5UP9g0JZ-KF/s320/DSCN0489.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlK2taAVE1dBXgjm6VriGj4_wMlJNO7L5AWHpnvS7C0wURvvY8cdA0ndsGtPWNOWiTyUuVfDkmKEXunVG4YhyZek4-lpkDkOXPtSvbEYiVMOWnVnGh4KhZYtjfdojKoD9mi2SegGnluETk/s1600/DSCN0490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlK2taAVE1dBXgjm6VriGj4_wMlJNO7L5AWHpnvS7C0wURvvY8cdA0ndsGtPWNOWiTyUuVfDkmKEXunVG4YhyZek4-lpkDkOXPtSvbEYiVMOWnVnGh4KhZYtjfdojKoD9mi2SegGnluETk/s320/DSCN0490.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
12/18/13: Dojo is 5 months today! Such a big boy. He is sleeping wonky again, perhaps his teeth or a growth spurt. He is getting much longer, and changing so drastically from week to week.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-92001400541237912952013-12-04T08:41:00.000-08:002013-12-20T20:38:46.091-08:0019 weeks<div dir="ltr">
11/28/13: Dojo's first Thanksgiving! He ate rice cereal for the first time, and wasn't sure what to think. He sucked the spoon. Ate some more. Then more. Then cried. Then ate more. Then cried. He was confused. We ultimately put it in his bottle, and we'll try again with the spoon in a week our so.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-56636840795838942332013-11-21T11:17:00.000-08:002013-11-27T07:53:35.969-08:00What's happening: 17 weeks<p dir="ltr">11/18/13 4 months old today! Dojo learned to spit and pthbbbb his lips. It's all he did at our WIC appointment. He's a whopping 10 lbs 7 Oz. </p><p dir="ltr">I HateThisPhone.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAxt1Me8u6dE6jRoj-g4VFayKjiY_CWpuiXnqHo3wW6SAkq6XRkPzIKvSCYxycEwA5y5QkgIhr3zouPcBD95O31gXrAHkGE3uXVIbvmh_Okhv8V4ttGSECmTla68IHm_it9NcOhkjl4mRS/s1600/IMG_20131118_092837_214.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAxt1Me8u6dE6jRoj-g4VFayKjiY_CWpuiXnqHo3wW6SAkq6XRkPzIKvSCYxycEwA5y5QkgIhr3zouPcBD95O31gXrAHkGE3uXVIbvmh_Okhv8V4ttGSECmTla68IHm_it9NcOhkjl4mRS/s640/IMG_20131118_092837_214.jpg"> </a> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-58617892948609787782013-11-21T08:08:00.000-08:002013-11-27T08:09:02.957-08:0018 weeks<p dir=ltr>11/21/2013: I'm really pushing the limits of sleep deprivation at this point. More so than after he was born. He's been getting up around 2-3 am, which is fine, except I have not been able to go back to sleep aftewards. So when he wakes at 5, and 6, and 7, I'm stuck without a nap. Last night, i tried to nap at 530, but his Crappy Hour began and hubbs really had a hard time with it. Poor guy - best he knows to do is change Dojo's diaper, so I think I overheard 3 diaper changes in about 45 minutes. I got up and took the baby to bed with me. Dojo immediately went to sleep, but I just laid there. I got up at 830 when hubbs came to bed and stood in a hot shower. Then I was even more awake. Make some tea, did the dishes, and some homework. Finally went to bed at 11, but D woke up at 1130, and every hour after that. It was a rough night. Teething most likely. His fussenstein moments are getting more frequent. Still, compared to other babies he's pretty mild. It's raining today, too bad i have to go to school.</p>
<p dir=ltr>11/22/13  had coffee with the girls today, it was like having a daycare in my living room.  Dojo was so good, squealing and squawking. I got some full laughs this evening, on video too. Will add them to the website soon. </p>
<p dir=ltr>It was a good weekend. D is sleeping better almost instantly. Sleeps from about 7 pm to 2 am, then again until 6 am .. More or less. I woke up Saturday morning so energized I swear Hubbs gave me regular coffee. I took Dojo to a couple of farmers markets to give Hubbs time alone for homework. Baby was so good, I think he really enjoyed being outdoors. The lady who owns the sandwich ship adores him. She is usually pretty stone faced, but as son as she sees him she smiles and comes to talk to him. </p>
<p dir=ltr>This kid's smile its more effective than a thousand Care Bear Stares at warming a cold heart.</p>
<p dir=ltr>11/26/13: Dojo got his second shots. He weighed in at 10lbs 10 oz, 23.25 inches. The doctor says he's only in the 2ND percentile, but its ok. He's healthy and happy. He's tracking well, rolling from back to side (though not all the way over yet) and we are practicing sitting up. He does ok for a second but his head makes him slowly lean until he falls over.</p>
<p dir=ltr>11/27/13: I keep having dreams about Dojo talking. He's his normal many body, but speaks clear English. The first dream a couple weeks ago was about me talking to his reincarnated spirit of Billy the Kid. Last night, the dream was of me trying to pot him back to sleep after he cried out, then said "My real mother left me a long time ago." And when I tried to comfort him I realized he war possessed and I started yelling asst whatever it was to get out of my son. </p>
<p dir=ltr>Clearly, I cannot handle getting more sleep. My brain is freaking out.<br>
</p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-91113192110260866522013-11-06T20:24:00.000-08:002013-11-21T11:18:03.535-08:00What's happening: 15 weeks<div dir="ltr">
Our first Halloween and Dia de los muertos. He didn't mind his hat or beard at all. We had two groups of trick-or-treater<u>s</u>, that's all. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
We had a bbq for day of the dead. He loved seeing people and was mesmerized by the fire. Such a good baby.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
The crows arrived today (11/4). It's all I can hear outside. Dojo doesn't seem to notice, he's sleeping right through them.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
He may be showing signs of sleep problems, but I'm not sure. He wimpers and cries in his sleep, and is starting to kick and flail around while he's in bed with me. I asked uncle Google, who brought up night terrors, but none of the articles mentioned this in infants. They said it usually starts at 18 mos or toddler years. Other boards said that lack of sleep during the day leads to lack of sleep at night, which could be the case. He only cat naps during the day for 20 minutes at a time. So, we're going to try to nap every hour to see if that helps.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9UOhXMcdenEC7wpVdcagEdZiMG0o7dwhyphenhyphen0Y-TQK5vVVcoXmNBtETDuDY0pfTNLHFKbIuSnG3meIXxpK5yxP-eFT5i5n4JFwxFuqJ97ZXXsOyz2CeYznr0MM_ZZwAGZzfEF9P6zr-fFmJZ/s1600/IMG_20131102_155431_012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9UOhXMcdenEC7wpVdcagEdZiMG0o7dwhyphenhyphen0Y-TQK5vVVcoXmNBtETDuDY0pfTNLHFKbIuSnG3meIXxpK5yxP-eFT5i5n4JFwxFuqJ97ZXXsOyz2CeYznr0MM_ZZwAGZzfEF9P6zr-fFmJZ/s320/IMG_20131102_155431_012.jpg" width="180" /> </a> </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-86520768296362412872013-10-30T08:58:00.000-07:002013-11-21T07:59:04.450-08:00Weekdays happening: 14 weeks<div dir="ltr">
Someone is discovering his feet. Pays them no mind while he's laying down, its when he's sitting up. He reaches down and grabs at his pant legs.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
He's grabbing things with intention now. Still flails his arms around and hits toys accidentally, but he is beginning to grab.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-18098252340915656342013-10-21T10:54:00.001-07:002013-11-21T11:15:18.445-08:003 months, how many weeks? 13?<div dir="ltr">
He's giggling! Just little but he's giggling! Will try to get it on video.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
And Screeching is his new talking</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKrdBle1MdROJU2K_fewbIy06eEI12nyoNQUzgBqFZdAdald6snAQAObN_HF3t_Jp6eU6X6FF5Mpxz_6tD983RKbqNXnYZGV9sw_L6yb-xtFf9EdjN5nRImEpViu8gZ9wmPiXghMB33ea-/s1600/IMG_20131019_110151_424.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKrdBle1MdROJU2K_fewbIy06eEI12nyoNQUzgBqFZdAdald6snAQAObN_HF3t_Jp6eU6X6FF5Mpxz_6tD983RKbqNXnYZGV9sw_L6yb-xtFf9EdjN5nRImEpViu8gZ9wmPiXghMB33ea-/s320/IMG_20131019_110151_424.jpg" width="320" /> </a> </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-60245559228396597672013-09-19T16:47:00.001-07:002013-10-21T10:51:03.606-07:00What's Happening: 9 weeks old<p dir=ltr>* 9\19/13: we had our first mommy melt down. He was tired and all sorts of fussy, and all he wanted was boob. He fell asleep, woke up as soon as I moved. Repeat meltdown for mommy. Mommy was doing homework though, and like a trooper, daddy figured it out and got Dojo to sleep so I could finish (and it was just enough time, too).</p>
<p dir=ltr>* ...then I steadily moved him to the bedroom. And noticed a spider on the ceiling. I grabbed tissue, got up on the bed...no way I'm getting my hand that close to it. Climbed down, got a shoe, tried to smash it into the ceiling...but no, it fell down into the Co-sleeper two inches from Dojo's face. Sigh. </p>
<p dir=ltr>* we've got nursing down. His little lips flare out and everything. Kind of looks like...what was that movie where Don Knotts turned into a fish with big lips? Yeah, looks like that.</p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-67383907958201033752013-09-19T16:44:00.001-07:002013-11-21T11:18:43.302-08:00What's Happening: 8 weeks old<div dir="ltr">
* 9\13\13: Dorian rubbed his sleepy eye for the first time, for reals. No fist, he really rubbed it.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
* We had our first family date that night also. Dinner with friends from out of town, and I got to wear big shoes for the first time in ages. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
* 9/18/13: Dorian is two months old today! We took some pictures, did a little shopping, and had lunch with our dear friend Jene, who is expecting a little boy in October!</div>
<div dir="ltr">
* He also cut his biggest, stinkiest cheese. As he was having dinner, he was squirming around the entire time, on both sides. Then he suddenly stopped moving, looked up at me through the corner of his eye, and let out a loud, stinky toot. And immediately continued sucking. Sigh. Boys.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
* We are still not terribly fond of these gDiapers, but are keeping on with them until we get new ones or grow into the next size. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
* Today Dojo also pushed his binky in his mouth with his open hand, like he totally meant to do it. Oh boy. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyiMmx-5g3ikiGegIAzqXaymUHO7X4QeryK8nValwgtXIURx3wgpt-_LU3QDIxR8ONKwcTf3-PGROLnGSCF-UqEG_6PKPAQBT19GtSL4uxsqo51BhnCag1NEERf1jo8cTHakSbcKxhHh3e/s1600/IMG_20130918_084858.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyiMmx-5g3ikiGegIAzqXaymUHO7X4QeryK8nValwgtXIURx3wgpt-_LU3QDIxR8ONKwcTf3-PGROLnGSCF-UqEG_6PKPAQBT19GtSL4uxsqo51BhnCag1NEERf1jo8cTHakSbcKxhHh3e/s320/IMG_20130918_084858.jpg" width="320" /> </a> </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-5024949787873138652013-09-08T19:52:00.001-07:002013-09-11T19:51:46.167-07:00What's Happening: 7 weeks old<p dir=ltr>I figured I ought to do this by Dorian's age rather than calendar, although I'll probably change that next week. Here's what's happening at 7 weeks old:</p>
<p dir=ltr>* Sunday was the boy's first football day with daddy. Dojo didn't get scared and daddy didn't scream (while baby was with him, anyway).</p>
<p dir=ltr>* Sunday was also his first day in cloth diapers!. We had to buy smaller ones because he can't fit into the ones we have. We bought gDiapers newborn bundle from Target. They use disposable (biodegradable) inserts, so its not terribly different than store bought diapers. We have had zero leaks (no poo yet) and have been able to reuse the same cover all day. We'll see how it holds up over night.<br>
UPDATE: these are great for pee catching. But if you know what we're dealing with here, that breastfeed newborn poo is like pudding that hasn't quite set... Well it doesn't stay in these diapers very well. We're going to keep using them, because they were pricey, but were looking for other options.</p>
<p dir=ltr>* Dojo is holding his head up like a champ when you hold him at your shoulder to burp him. We've done tummy time a few times this week and he's doing great. In fact, he's starting to get pissed if you lay him down. He wants to be upright all the time so he can look around.</p>
<p dir=ltr>* The only exception here is that we bought him a play mat at the baby thrift store. So far, he's enjoying laying on it, watching the light-up turtles and looking at the orca that hangs above him.</p>
<p dir=ltr>* I don't know if I mentioned this last week, but he's discovered he can pinch things with his toes. So while I'm feeding him, he'll put his foot on my arm and pinch away.</p>
<p dir=ltr>* Finally getting thank you cards from the baby shower in the mail along with birth announcements!</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Zty9HYA1ZxJIoCuDHFnjiKD0YQD_nmx8WEf7QNdKrBUhBja52qHZWGAc6TACTn0PjmvbnuHvSp4lMGh0rB0Hhbndhu2tuXXsNEsDZdGubfELIFR6dRWyQhfpx3mc7xjR0G1RL9ztHczz/s1600/IMG_20130911_170950.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Zty9HYA1ZxJIoCuDHFnjiKD0YQD_nmx8WEf7QNdKrBUhBja52qHZWGAc6TACTn0PjmvbnuHvSp4lMGh0rB0Hhbndhu2tuXXsNEsDZdGubfELIFR6dRWyQhfpx3mc7xjR0G1RL9ztHczz/s640/IMG_20130911_170950.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYsEs-a0DOAVXY0oSZ2g7ZKVPJaiisKSqgfs34eedNOehZkaNdVOa1c0jploqgsnPVS5yMAlX4qIhEWLuYGB9gGp2nRr0aM6R0t_tA1r0dlmbKe-O4XD8-CTECmYcoskSMpye4kv_UGkWc/s1600/IMG_20130910_194523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYsEs-a0DOAVXY0oSZ2g7ZKVPJaiisKSqgfs34eedNOehZkaNdVOa1c0jploqgsnPVS5yMAlX4qIhEWLuYGB9gGp2nRr0aM6R0t_tA1r0dlmbKe-O4XD8-CTECmYcoskSMpye4kv_UGkWc/s640/IMG_20130910_194523.jpg"> </a> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-22496421879856906202013-09-07T13:41:00.001-07:002013-09-07T19:57:29.874-07:00This week<p dir=ltr>I figure its about time to start logging these things. Things I swear I'll never forget, while overestimating my sleep deprived memory. So here goes...</p>
<p dir=ltr>This week's happenings:</p>
<p dir=ltr>* Dorian is learning to put his fists to work. He is starting to rub his eyes when he gets sleepy, push his binky in when it starts to slip and knock it out when he's fussy. Still finding balls of lint between his fingers when he finally relaxes his hands. He's also discovered sucking on fists, which leads to the next happening...</p>
<p dir=ltr>* He gave himself a hickey on his arm.</p>
<p dir=ltr>* He is eating more, and wetting through his diapers on occasion. Three times this week so far. We bought new cloth diapers that are newborn size, so we'll be trying those tomorrow.</p>
<p dir=ltr>* We bought an owl lamp and humidifier in honor of his first cooing sound: "whoo". This week, however, mommy and daddy saying "gah" is hilarious. He hasn't quite learned to repeat that one yet.</p>
<p dir=ltr>* There were a couple of times when I felt like all I did all day long was pick his nose and get stuff out of his ears.</p>
<p dir=ltr>* I squirted myself in the face this morning. Guess I was full. Not that you needed to know that, but it seemed worth mentioning.</p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-4399790862696520952013-05-01T17:37:00.001-07:002013-09-07T13:40:36.057-07:00The CPJE: 29 weeks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9QvRN-0mc27JNv-tMBRII9Nk6y81wR9-AlpIxcaHX5rL7AEz5tK7792DjlMBcvjJRYdEXa7Ec-49a4-eu6dz-kJJahQ52SP1rCg_oQ1VTiqX7-C6NwSeqpsxARaq2eLE-psFeGwoD_4Eq/s1600/29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9QvRN-0mc27JNv-tMBRII9Nk6y81wR9-AlpIxcaHX5rL7AEz5tK7792DjlMBcvjJRYdEXa7Ec-49a4-eu6dz-kJJahQ52SP1rCg_oQ1VTiqX7-C6NwSeqpsxARaq2eLE-psFeGwoD_4Eq/s320/29.jpg" width="234" /></a></div>
<br />
29w: Today is our 5th anniversary! It's hubbs first time home for an anniversary in four years, so we celebrated big. He had plans, and it was all a surprise. (We actually celebrated a day ear;y because he had duty on Sunday).<br />
<br />
On Thursday morning I woke up to a text from hubbs telling me to check my email. My email contained an appointment confirmation for a prenatal massage at 230pm. I did my homework, ran some errands, and went to the most magical hour of my life. Afterward, I raced home, packed my bag, and we drove to Hillcrest. We checked into a B&B then headed off to a great dinner at something psuedo-Italian. They served most everything in mason jars and we even got a complimentary toast of champagne (ginger beer for me!) and a small chocolate mousse for dessert. We did, however, get cheated out of our leftovers (the guy forgot about them and never brought them back to our table) which was a bummer but overall the night was great. We conked out early, you know, because we party hardy these days.<br />
<br />
Friday morning, we found out we got approved for the birthing center!!!!!!! We devoured the breakfast bar of fresh fruit, cereal and muffins then headed off to Balboa park to see the Ripley's Believe it or Not exhibit and the Timkin. We headed off to our favorite bar to have dinner, played pool and shuffleboard, and then settled on the couch for movies. (The above picture is the best you get when hubbs is a little drunky, btw.) I did absolutely nothing for the rest of the weekend. And it was good.<br />
<br />
29w5d: Had my first appointment at the birth center today. The midwife I met, Roberta, looks like the world's best grandmother :) She was really sweet and I liked her instantly. She felt my belly and said it feels like the baby is sort of at an angle, facing forward, with his head on my left side of belly button and his feet in my right side. That explains why my right side has been so tender - its where he's been kicking the most. The "eggbelly" lump that he pushes through the front of my belly must be his head. Egghead. Figures.<br />
<br />
I have exams all next week, finals the week after, and then I am DONE for the summer and focus on baby baby baby! I spent alllll day yesterday packing up crafts and cleaning up the nursery. I didn't get it all done, but I feel good that I got as much done as I did. It's a start.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-37939125808578868542013-04-17T13:43:00.000-07:002013-04-18T16:17:20.111-07:00The CPJE: 27 Weeks<br />
Here we are, the end of the second trimester is quickly approaching!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLQBjtCjWZxKaO-eodK1xXKxqIAYS9zizo__9qLTyWxeNT8vZiLQCwIDaYKbCdWf1WgJWhPXtq9pRjTVuiQN-MWL3JQmV5CJceySydc9A1szNf6GrJijWdadU79EoDmLIJ_-qQoVj-PZ70/s1600/27b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLQBjtCjWZxKaO-eodK1xXKxqIAYS9zizo__9qLTyWxeNT8vZiLQCwIDaYKbCdWf1WgJWhPXtq9pRjTVuiQN-MWL3JQmV5CJceySydc9A1szNf6GrJijWdadU79EoDmLIJ_-qQoVj-PZ70/s320/27b.jpg" width="194" /></a></div>
Baby Dojo has developed two types of movement: kicking/punching/twitching and summersaulting/pushing through my belly button. All of which are visible. The kicking/punching/twitching is nothing new, just getting ever so frequent and is visible through my clothing. In fact, he is punching/kicking/twitching so hard that it makes my hand jump if I'm holding my belly.<br />
<br />
The summersaulting, however, is enough to make me stop in my tracks. I dont know exactly what he is doing, but he moves around in such a way that I sometimes get motion sickness just sitting still. When this feeling comes on, I know that if I look down I'll have Quasi Moto belly where a great part of him is sticking out in a weird way. And if I watch long enough, that lump will visibly move across my skin. It feels as though he's trying to push through the front/side of my belly. This week, he's riding low and heavy and I feel like I need to walk around holding my belly up. Oh the waddle.<br />
<br />
And sleep? What's that? I'm getting weird back pain and just can't get comfortable. I toss and turn like a rotisserie chicken during the night, and am still waking up at 3-4 a.m. I have to stop several times a day and, bending at the waist, rest my arms and head on the counter or the bed or the back of the couch so that I can stretch my back. If I decide to get pregnant again, I think I should become a weight trainer so that I am strong enough to handle this ball on my belly. I'm not used to being this weak (no jokes, please). I really think I've had trouble gaining weight (according to the scales) because I'm actually losing all of my muscles. I'm going to be spaghetti limbs here in a little while, I swear.<br />
<br />
Since strawberries have been on sale the last two weeks, I've probably eaten my weight in them. And grapes. And chicken salad. And potato chips with onion dip. And I discovered Sprout's Oat Bran bread - holy mama that stuff is goooood. I just wish they accepted WIC, because I'd do nearly all of my shopping there now. As it is, I have to go to three stores every week (Sprouts for their fruit, and now bread; the commissary for paper goods, OJ, and WIC stuff; and Trader Joe's for everything else! When did this get so complicated?!) But I digress...<br />
<br />
Of course, I failed the 3-week-early glucose test and had to take the 3-hour test. Which meant I had to fast for 12 hours, go to the hospital, get my base blood drawn, then drink down a thick red goo and wait an hour. Get blood drawn again, wait an hour, draw blood, wait an hour, and draw blood a fourth time - all without eating. When all was said and done, it was 15 hours without food. I was light headed, nauseated and uncomfortable the whole time. I got through until about 10 minutes before my last blood draw and then had to run to the bathroom to get sick. I was terrified they'd make me reschedule and do it all over again, but since I was so close to the last draw they let me go ahead and finish it. Fingers crossed that I don't fail this one!<br />
<br />
Overall, though, I'm feeling good and staying positive and trying to enjoy it all. I spend a lot of time every day just staring at my belly and watching Dojo move around. He's more active this week than he has been ever before.<br />
<br />
The cabinetry in the guest room is almost done. I bought storage baskets for my crafts. Which means I am "that much" closer to start work in the nursery! It's going to be a busy weekend. Woot! And hubbs passed his weigh-in (with a few pounds to spare) so he is on top of the world and excited for the future!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-89328187610833543122013-04-17T13:26:00.000-07:002013-04-18T16:13:10.128-07:00The Crappiest Pregnancy Journal Ever: The First 26 Weeks in a NutshellI think about writing a lot, really I do. But that's usually at 4 a.m. when I've woken up uncomfortable and am trying desperately to go back to sleep. So here it is, the first installation of this mama's baby cookin' adventure - only about two-thirds of the way through....sigh...<br />
<br />
<b>A Recap:</b><br />
<br />
As ya'll probably know, we were being treated for "unknown infertility" for a couple of years before we were given the opportunity to have an IUI. After a few weeks of hormones and drugs and hormones and belly injections and hormones and drugs, we had our first IUI (more on that weird experience later).<br />
<br />
<i>4/5 Weeks</i>: We were extatic, relieved, surprised and bumbled to discover that the very first attempt was successful! We were in the shoe department at the NEX looking for sandals when the doctor called to confirm our positive pregnancy test result. I bawled right there next to the Nikes. He scheduled for us to have an ultrasound the following Monday to make sure it was a viable pregnancy, and so it was.<br />
<br />
The following weekend, we broke the news to our immediate family. (more about that later, too)<br />
<br />
<i>6 Weeks: </i>Oh, hello nausea. I was not looking forward to meeting you. Honestly, weeks 6-9 are pretty much a blur. I was so nauseous - but thankfully not throwing up - that all I could do was lay on the couch and whine. I began removing almost everything from my diet: sauces (which meant no pasta!), salsas (no Mexican food!), spices, tomatoes, bananas. Everything made my stomach upset. I felt like I had drank too much, and was hanging my head thinking "If only I could throw up, I'd feel so much better..." but knowing that throwing up would not make the nausea go away.<br />
<br />
<i>9 Weeks: </i>I discovered Sea Bands. I don't know why I waited so long to buy them. We were travelling two hours to Long Beach for Mama Chela's 90th birthday and I just couldn't be sick. A few days before hand, I bought the bands and for the first time felt like I could get off the couch! I didn't feel <i>great</i>, but at least I could leave the house.<br />
<br />
We made it through the party, and made our announcement to Mama Chela and my husband's father's side of the family who were in attendance. I spent nearly all night under the heater (it was an outdoor party) but was thankful that there was plenty of plain beans and rice and tortilla chips to eat :)<br />
<br />
During this time, just about all I could eat was plain bean and cheese burritos. And cereal. And ginger ale.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhau09oQEG7-RkuHqezeGBVL62EZpoGKY89PxAkYa3fdQ7djj8w6sUlTRlkjM9tphqME8_0UQtL5VQinKYLbEBUbjsw2I_2G5F3WGg-6XjdFnUr9f8fTLUgui3dc5iA_GxmAddAZH1cO4qI/s1600/12+weeks_b1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhau09oQEG7-RkuHqezeGBVL62EZpoGKY89PxAkYa3fdQ7djj8w6sUlTRlkjM9tphqME8_0UQtL5VQinKYLbEBUbjsw2I_2G5F3WGg-6XjdFnUr9f8fTLUgui3dc5iA_GxmAddAZH1cO4qI/s200/12+weeks_b1.jpg" width="153" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still pretty nauseous!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>11 Weeks:</i> Lots of my family and hubb's parents came for Christmas. We had a house full, but decided to host a pajama party for Christmas dinner, so it was nice and comfy :) It was probably one of the best Christmases I've ever had, and everyone else seemed to think so, too.<br />
<br />
Around this time, we prepared our announcements and included them in our Christmas cards. Just after Christmas we posted our announcement photo online. I supposed I started to show a little bit, a very little bit. Really, I just looked (and felt) like I had overeaten.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXf8D8SFMTI8irHznV7vGps1Nq-zMohQvUFghY5ceT0Jd79LLOmJFJDLK67UR2a5YJO4GHh6_yFqWVKukFPTdif2Nk-p9zL4pJf9jE94UUtEYdOYs3nV094Ajl5HD_nLKCoMZDI6FN4-o/s1600/15+weeks_e1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXf8D8SFMTI8irHznV7vGps1Nq-zMohQvUFghY5ceT0Jd79LLOmJFJDLK67UR2a5YJO4GHh6_yFqWVKukFPTdif2Nk-p9zL4pJf9jE94UUtEYdOYs3nV094Ajl5HD_nLKCoMZDI6FN4-o/s200/15+weeks_e1.jpg" width="153" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Starting to feel better!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>13-15</i> <i>Weeks: </i>I really started to feel better. The nausea was waning and my appetite started to slowly come back. I started back to school and had quite a bit to keep myself busy.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOWgAO7rNjevWjC-WU79FXomIxIRYUDDDMXL0dKK3uKviJniRw-rIcRCnno8sUMxmFrfq55P5DgGiYTip-pC8IVIc66kYYzVD2xuwPclq-AoYX_tkHzSTcXQJ3iCnyKToXfV-wB6x-cvIG/s1600/IMG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOWgAO7rNjevWjC-WU79FXomIxIRYUDDDMXL0dKK3uKviJniRw-rIcRCnno8sUMxmFrfq55P5DgGiYTip-pC8IVIc66kYYzVD2xuwPclq-AoYX_tkHzSTcXQJ3iCnyKToXfV-wB6x-cvIG/s200/IMG.jpg" width="188" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thumbsucker!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>16 Weeks: </i>My first trip to the hospital, my first ride in a hospital bed and wheelchair, my first MRI, and some ultrasounds. (more about that later) The baby was flippin around and doing great, and we got an adorable ultrasound picture of our little thumbsucker!<br />
<br />
<i>17 Weeks: </i>I felt baby move for the first time! It was just a flutter, but once I recognized it, I felt it all the time. Such a weird, exhilarating feeling.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWOtuCTD6IErOGcI4KlheEShNuo8_ZoJF614A9NSTb9vL9jzQIOO4FA4lkPnNqEQuI3ACXy7wTl92br8JsRVN8Qw4xvhe6aaFSwzOTcwYGdhZnjLJaBubmqEpIpR4OVHj9GYerezIBdiIl/s1600/17+weeks_a1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWOtuCTD6IErOGcI4KlheEShNuo8_ZoJF614A9NSTb9vL9jzQIOO4FA4lkPnNqEQuI3ACXy7wTl92br8JsRVN8Qw4xvhe6aaFSwzOTcwYGdhZnjLJaBubmqEpIpR4OVHj9GYerezIBdiIl/s200/17+weeks_a1.jpg" width="148" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby's moving!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<i>18 Weeks: </i>Hubbs felt baby move for the first time! I read somewheres on the interwebs that if I could feel the baby move, chances are he could, too. So every night I made him hold his hand on my belly while we watched TV until he could feel it. I admit, his reaction was a little less than I had hoped for: he looked at me in utter surprise and excitement for just a brief moment, then was distracted by the ending of the episode of Dexter he was watching. Turd.<br />
<br />
At the end of the week, I had my first cystoscopy to follow up on the bladder abnormality they found during my trip to the hospital two weeks prior. Bladder mass was confirmed, and stumped the doctors, so I was put on hold for a few days until they could decide what to do.<br />
<br />
<i>19-20 Weeks: </i>By this time, I was feeling GREAT. I woke up feeling wonderful every day. I was excited to dress my little belly and get out of the house. My appetite was coming back and I was able to eat some of the foods I had given up earlier on. The doctors decided that the unknown mass in my bladder could be quite a problem and it had to go as soon as possible. They scheduled me for surgery.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkPeporj1DjrCq16_Fazmd8pedgMia9Df_QvDWhELzlDosvWj6EdbqDv_LUQ9bfNi6PlOyJQBHFInn_qAbgNq5_BDRoJsMi1nPkrv6quVr0BoqxCFLFqcwjA1C4aLCmPeXfLez4-vIpgA/s1600/20weeksB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkPeporj1DjrCq16_Fazmd8pedgMia9Df_QvDWhELzlDosvWj6EdbqDv_LUQ9bfNi6PlOyJQBHFInn_qAbgNq5_BDRoJsMi1nPkrv6quVr0BoqxCFLFqcwjA1C4aLCmPeXfLez4-vIpgA/s200/20weeksB.jpg" width="128" /></a>While we patiently waited for the impending surgery (and I thought hubbs would go all-gray), we had an ultrasound to find out the sex of our little one. We swore every day that it didn't matter either way. Knowing all of the trouble we had gone through to get pregnant in the first place, we were just happy to be having a little one at all. But... as soon as the tech let out that three letter word, b-o-y, hubbs let out a viking growl unlike any I had heard before. I got a great laugh out of his reaction, and just teared up a tiny little bit.<br />
<br />
We met with our midwife a few days later and she told us baby boy was in the 49th percentile and looked perfectly healthy!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6oLoYjzzd2NOV5Xs8L5FXYYrcwOBLaAw5zhHFhyphenhyphenLtUoIzOH5-SqTgyJB5HB8hqHG1iCS-XccelhtDNh2Lu55EfweG5pgNEiuwrgHsfDKNtym2YCnQciyrVJDymt7LjCTxfz6_7g3ZKoI4/s1600/22cc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6oLoYjzzd2NOV5Xs8L5FXYYrcwOBLaAw5zhHFhyphenhyphenLtUoIzOH5-SqTgyJB5HB8hqHG1iCS-XccelhtDNh2Lu55EfweG5pgNEiuwrgHsfDKNtym2YCnQciyrVJDymt7LjCTxfz6_7g3ZKoI4/s200/22cc.jpg" width="115" /></a><br />
<i>21 Weeks: </i>Surgery. It knocked me off my feet more than I expected, to be honest. The spinal anesthesia, I was told, was stronger than an epidural but not quite as strong as what you'd get for a C-section. It was such a weird feeling not being able to walk. Or pee. Overall, it went well and we were able to go home that afternoon. I slept it off for a couple of days and felt generally fine, but it really set me back a couple of weeks. I had been feeling SO good before the surgery, but really had to take it easy afterward and didnt do much outside of the house or school. I had a few crappy days followed by a few good days, then a week of "Whoa, I'm not all better yet" days. Baby was safe and happy and moving as he should, so that's what really mattered.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGioZwgUZG_LzRoN4hUUQck1wDSDn68ezm4cNvGOx4_KbNfg9ZGErrM2Yuzcp26r5_2wAcuSxn-8qJUHsvMSXR4M58RUhf1jGZcFCY7sZ1PKcWFFx7LKvKDRlB5doy4DnB8y9KrL47kRCO/s1600/25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGioZwgUZG_LzRoN4hUUQck1wDSDn68ezm4cNvGOx4_KbNfg9ZGErrM2Yuzcp26r5_2wAcuSxn-8qJUHsvMSXR4M58RUhf1jGZcFCY7sZ1PKcWFFx7LKvKDRlB5doy4DnB8y9KrL47kRCO/s200/25.jpg" width="120" /></a><i>23 Weeks: </i>Biopsy results came back as "low malignant potential", which means I do not have cancer now, but I need to go back after the baby is born to have it looked at again. Additionally,<i> </i>I ate a whole pan of brownies in two days. I even took it in the car with me so I could eat while driving... Naps don't seem as necessary as they used to, but I still like them :)<br />
<br />
<i>25 Weeks: </i>Um, where'd this belly come from?! It popped out overnight, I swear! One day I was just a little bloated and then suddenly there was a baby bump. And it moves. That's the weird part! Seeing a lump in my belly where his bum is poking out is quite the experience.<br />
<br />
We toured the birthing center this week and really like it. Now we just have to cross all fingers and toes and hope that our insurance will allow us to go. I met with an OB/GYN doctor as she was curious to do a check-up after my surgery (I'd never seen this woman before, only the midwives). She was a little patronizing (she kept calling me "kiddo") and tried to explain to me that water births aren't safe because they're not sanitary and lead to infections, "you know, like when you get a pedicure." ...Right. Because the rise of infectious pedicure deaths is a big concern these days... She made me get a vaccination (which I don't like to do) and take the glucose test 3 weeks early. I wasn't prepared to take it that, I had Jack-in-the-Box on the way to the hopsital for gawds sake. Ugh. I felt like I was being held hostage by the hospital and our insurance. It was not a great day, so please send us good juju so that we can be allowed to go to the birthing center!<br />
<br />
<i>26 Weeks: </i>I got a semi-surprise trip from the girls (I expected one, but the second was a surprise!). We had a great girls weekend, complete with mani-pedis, The Melting Pot, and lots and lots of baby shopping :) Baby Dojo has quite the monster wardrobe now! He's moving so much, and poking out in weird places. I'm waddling a lot, too. Oh, and sleeping has become quite difficult. I am waking up at about 3-4 am and lying in bed for hours until I can fall asleep again.<br />
<br />
Which brings us to the present: And that's a wrap!<br />
<br />
Let's do this again real soon, okay? ;)<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-45880568792774149092013-04-14T21:15:00.000-07:002013-04-17T13:45:52.491-07:00Homemade Yogurt<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaaI9fTTSLaLG7nhK45hrwvUYcR0e89VIwsTYLFeZ_yEl3r2vPveYbWEdure7Wdcg0Y-FAK5Y_DeO0P7z0EcFt_y08OZeiYnp3Z7Lzo37p5XPSlVzndhFVsiaugpPMWbJXVACk2tb40kIR/s1600/015.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaaI9fTTSLaLG7nhK45hrwvUYcR0e89VIwsTYLFeZ_yEl3r2vPveYbWEdure7Wdcg0Y-FAK5Y_DeO0P7z0EcFt_y08OZeiYnp3Z7Lzo37p5XPSlVzndhFVsiaugpPMWbJXVACk2tb40kIR/s320/015.png" width="207" /></a></div>
<br />
I had three different things to tell you about that would lead to why I decided to make yogurt. But they all failed to illustrate my brain properly. So I'm just going to tell you that I decided to make yogurt. There. Done.<br />
<br />
I found several recipes for homemade yogurt and mashed a few of them together, but you can read them individually <a href="http://www.makeyourownyogurt.com/make-yogurt/what-you-need" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="http://www.thekitchn.com/how-to-make-yogurt-at-home-125070" target="_blank">here</a>. The ingredients are the same, the processes vary only slightly, and while the idea of using my crock pot was intriguing, as suggested somewhere else, I decided to skip that process altogether for the first try.<br />
<br />
<u>What you'll need: </u><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>A large pot with a lid and spoon or spatula</li>
<li>Milk</li>
<li>Yogurt starter (a couple of tablespoons of store-bought yogurt is fine)</li>
<li>Honey (optional)</li>
<li>Thermometer</li>
<li>A couple of towels</li>
<li>A warm oven or a heating pad</li>
<li>Sink and cold water</li>
<li>Cheesecloth or coffee filters and a bowl for straining (optional)</li>
<li>Jars for storing</li>
</ul>
<br />
I heated the milk (about a quarter of a gallon of organic milk) directly on the stove, stirring gently and constantly until it reached ~185 degrees F. I stirred in a few glops of honey (I didn't measure). Then I plopped the pot into a water bath in my kitchen sink. <i>Note: My sink has only a three inch divider in it, so I had to use a wash tub with cold water for this step. If you have a "normal" sink, you should be able just to plug it and fill it 1/3-1/2 of the way with cold water. You don't want it too full or your pot may float and tip over.</i><br />
<br />
When the milk had cooled to ~115 degrees F, I put in the yogurt starter (a few tablespoons leftover from Trader Joe's Greek Honey yogurt). When that was all mixed in, I covered the pot, set it on a heating pad on medium heat (on top of a wooden cutting board) and wrapped it up in towels.<br />
<br />
And then I waited....and waited... and waited. 7 hours.<br />
<br />
When I shimmied the pot, it still looked like liquid. I removed the lid and poked it with my spatula.. Yup, liquid. After a frantic Googling to find out why my yogurt hadn't set, I figured it was one of two things: 1. Because my heating pad has an auto shut-off feature, it could have been incubated too inconsistently 2. Medium heat could have been too warm.<br />
<br />
Uncle Google suggested that I should add a bit more starter and let sit for another 8 hours. I heated the oven to 170 degrees (the lowest setting on my digital oven), then turned it off. I had to take out the top rack to fit the pot in, but did so wrapped with towels. I left the light on, as suggested in many other blogs to help keep the oven warm, and left it over night.<br />
<br />
When I woke up the next morning, the yogurt was set and smelled divine! I gave it a good stir and divided it between three mason jars. I covered them tightly and put them in the back of my frig (the coldest area). After a couple of days, I finally got around to straining it a bit to achieve a thicker "Greek" consistency. <i>Note: Save the whey that you drain from your yogurt! You can use it in place of water in many recipes, like pancakes, muffins, and <a href="http://mylifeasahermit.blogspot.com/2012/08/whey-bread.html" target="_blank">this whey bread</a>!</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkFLvIElxQ5ogaZZJZjNIYew3XT3kHmi2P1wWAmPUh77LhAEzxbn2JXgccxQQdjcRZI4H41n0gtFAwSrV_KxYIXyADMFPp-LiUR0Fkhl9R3F-O44kom89P4Jq5febmLSuD7VdWsacsgA8o/s1600/143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkFLvIElxQ5ogaZZJZjNIYew3XT3kHmi2P1wWAmPUh77LhAEzxbn2JXgccxQQdjcRZI4H41n0gtFAwSrV_KxYIXyADMFPp-LiUR0Fkhl9R3F-O44kom89P4Jq5febmLSuD7VdWsacsgA8o/s320/143.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
You'll end up with less yogurt than you started with, after you drain out the whey, but it will be thick and creamy. If you prefer regular, non-Greek style yogurt then you can skip this step altogether and just eat away!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijTO9H2rB8E3jtxBg3XY4jWmbl_VZzJbQjCnYLakSYZjMDznaEEL6-rXI0N2u0C8rh_D0TR1PgwA8oTKAbYUARXlh3TpXaU10DAy1kKHv4okmhd36IW2m3MoOQWr_l304EGZ-F0RJIgRZA/s1600/144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijTO9H2rB8E3jtxBg3XY4jWmbl_VZzJbQjCnYLakSYZjMDznaEEL6-rXI0N2u0C8rh_D0TR1PgwA8oTKAbYUARXlh3TpXaU10DAy1kKHv4okmhd36IW2m3MoOQWr_l304EGZ-F0RJIgRZA/s320/144.JPG" width="242" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Serve with some (more) honey and a sprinkle of cinnamon and you're in for a treat. Just don't eat it ALL! You'll need to save a couple of tablespoons to use as starter for your next batch. Once you get the hang of this, you'll never need to buy yogurt again! The best part is, you control the ingredients. You can use organic or not, whole milk, low fat milk, honey, spices, fruit - the options are endless. You can also put a few tablespoons of your favorite fruit butter or preserve on the bottom of the jar for a "fruit-on-the-bottom" effect. Go wild and enjoy!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY4SdtilGWbrXCa20iRr2q3egFG3nfN7tjMXE3WJNeoQknda0AHIdkzqHtf1W6QNmcoCgZs7u1x-ft61PnlFATr9lRJRMbG4rOFbx7ILSp6EhidRIUwF7Nr1hcobEQvVScZp6Xk236SNnL/s1600/016.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY4SdtilGWbrXCa20iRr2q3egFG3nfN7tjMXE3WJNeoQknda0AHIdkzqHtf1W6QNmcoCgZs7u1x-ft61PnlFATr9lRJRMbG4rOFbx7ILSp6EhidRIUwF7Nr1hcobEQvVScZp6Xk236SNnL/s320/016.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-8542318771532685202012-09-15T14:08:00.000-07:002012-09-15T14:08:47.834-07:00The Ned Relocation Program<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This is Ned. S/he has been living in our front door for a few months now. The bottom left side of the screen door frame was not sealed and s/he found his/her way into it. With a web that swept in a triangle from the corner of the front porch out across a portion of our Welcome mat, s/he scrambled out of the frame and onto the web when s/he felt the door open, but then would scramble back into the frame when s/he realized (thankfully) that we are not food.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyG5PLE7fg4K1j7PwcQl-TlqsVgcwG-HS7nJGXubxBAfiMu8mlAImA9I_apxRKie-u5cw5ATd8fS4I27Tkz52XxVrTBw3wDCm7ysIoMwEU0odBAu0qjRfaaMGGueoNd0IulNSZKIQ89Iz0/s1600/IMG_0638.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyG5PLE7fg4K1j7PwcQl-TlqsVgcwG-HS7nJGXubxBAfiMu8mlAImA9I_apxRKie-u5cw5ATd8fS4I27Tkz52XxVrTBw3wDCm7ysIoMwEU0odBAu0qjRfaaMGGueoNd0IulNSZKIQ89Iz0/s320/IMG_0638.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I would guess Ned is about 2.5 inches long, from leg to leg.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
For months, we had no idea what was living there, only that there was a large web we were too lazy to sweep up. And since it was not a widow's web, we didn't care much. It was a couple of months before I caught a glimpse of him/her and I was immediately terrified and amazed. I have never seen a spider like this in my life. Usually just daddy-long-legs and widows. That's what I am familiar with. So I asked dear Google what s/he was. Consensus said that s/he was a Funnel Web Grass Spider, essentially harmless to people. So I let him/her stay. And then I named him/her Ned. Hubbs even fed Ned a moth.<br />
<br />
As the weather got warmer and warmer, Ned became visible more and more often. The setting sun shines on our front door almost directly, and I can only imagine how hot the metal door frame must have gotten. When I came the other day, I noticed Ned was hanging out on the bottom of the screen door itself - on the inside of the door, between the screen and the front door. It has been so humid here lately that our front door has swollen so much it cannot be closed completely. I decided it was time to evict Ned. I like Ned, outside. If Ned were to get into the house I would not hesitate to scream and beg someone to step on Ned. And the guilt would set in. So that would not do. Ned had to move.<br />
<br />
Not before snapping a few photos, of course.<br />
<br />
I had hubbs sweep Ned into a mason jar, and we carried Ned to a bush on the opposite end of the front yard. He gently plunked Ned onto the bush and s/he jumped in. I hoped that Ned did not land on a lizard.<br />
<br />
Dearest Ned, I hope you are happy in your new home, far away from my front door where I cannot say Hi to you every evening. I will not be sad if you don't visit. Just send a card now and then.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-35870203473930213072012-08-31T22:06:00.002-07:002013-04-17T13:45:52.489-07:00Pinterest Noms Challenge: Carrot Zucchini Bars with Lemon Cream Cheese Frosting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0dzaZ6ZDsITOXlOhBGqbgqCOH9RVmBFA6bcP8hSjFBUGGrBX1p8d1Rj5N-nGSz5wM-Ux3udDl-1ONaX7t662vcUiRQXkD3w6ldew2RdHoaz0sKzu8eQWpBEX4JCNwT60iWyYzew4NaUCA/s1600/159.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0dzaZ6ZDsITOXlOhBGqbgqCOH9RVmBFA6bcP8hSjFBUGGrBX1p8d1Rj5N-nGSz5wM-Ux3udDl-1ONaX7t662vcUiRQXkD3w6ldew2RdHoaz0sKzu8eQWpBEX4JCNwT60iWyYzew4NaUCA/s320/159.png" width="320" /></a></div>
Most people have to "hide" zucchini in something sweet in order to get their families to eat it. Not me. I love zucchini. I have it on hand almost all year, or at least as long as I can find it. I can't wait to have proper planter boxes so that I can grow my own.<br />
<br />
On the other hand, I do have to "hide" carrots. I dislike carrots very very much. It comes down to this: when I was four, I wanted very much to be Bugs Bunny. I asked my grandpa to get me carrots at the grocery store, found them in the lower bin of the refrigerator later that day, and mowed into one without washing or peeling or cooking. It was like the day I chugged cinnamon because no one ever called my cinnamon toast "cinnamon-SUGAR toast". So, I hide carrots.<br />
<br />
I don't mind them in curry, stews, tiny bits on salad, carrot cake or even gingered like I had in a local Ethiopian restaurant. I ogle them on veggie platters at social gatherings and wish I could, just once, stomach them drizzled in Ranch dressing. Alas, I cannot. Dear carrots, you taste like ass and that is why I am blind. Scapegoats are awesome, right?<br />
<br />
Anyhow, I found myself at the grocery store the other day, once again flirting up the carrots. So I broke down and bought some. And some zucchini. After two days in the referator, I remembered a luscious looking recipe for carrot zucchini bars with lemon cream cheese frosting from <a href="http://realmomkitchen.com/7878/carrot-and-zucchini-bars-with-lemon-cream-cheese-frosting/" target="_blank">Real Mom Kitchen</a> that I had <a href="http://pinterest.com/biscabee/" target="_blank">pinned</a> a few months back. Oh my, yes! YES! This is what carrots are made for!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxV9Q6uo_OcWHIm_WK_7bQn5mr304_1TpGOxphsPjvkPKGGxSpvrfBExOrQ9zoF_Z367-C_szJXNfKYAreJOjx09u1wRMYRjwyXMaVSKjjAB4nj_SHBRs5eLKYTPUhcuJ7VSWULn7E8Xar/s1600/148.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxV9Q6uo_OcWHIm_WK_7bQn5mr304_1TpGOxphsPjvkPKGGxSpvrfBExOrQ9zoF_Z367-C_szJXNfKYAreJOjx09u1wRMYRjwyXMaVSKjjAB4nj_SHBRs5eLKYTPUhcuJ7VSWULn7E8Xar/s320/148.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I learned quickly that shredding carrots by hand is lame, so I pulled out the food processor I have been swearing to use more often when sunbeams broke through my window and birds started chirping. This, my dear readers, is what that damn thing was meant to do. It tore through four carrots and a large zucchini in a few seconds flat.<br />
<br />
I added a bit of cinnamon and substituted apple sauce for the oil, which I read about <a href="http://thehappyhousewife.com/cooking/how-to-substitute-applesauce-for-oil/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">here</a> to make sure I could go 1:1. I did, and it was amazing. The overall process is simple: whisk together all of the wet ingredients plus the brown sugar. In a separate bowl, whisk together all of the dry ingredients. Fold the shredded carrots and zuchs into the wet mixture. Then fold the dry mix into the wet veggie mix. Spread into an ungreased 13x9x2 inch pan (and spread <i>evenly</i> because it didn't level out like I hoped it would). <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg50CUnZjS9_9FsdrVIT-LtlDALwCc22prifTcZ6ObICJGEPn-X6cy8ePsNLA36-hiOab6BhPwypWrC6QXtuCz-bUHVlk-xDzE_BqHtf_VthdCXAiJvGk9jlDjqZT0fTSgMfbEB7VXQ8KgC/s1600/150.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg50CUnZjS9_9FsdrVIT-LtlDALwCc22prifTcZ6ObICJGEPn-X6cy8ePsNLA36-hiOab6BhPwypWrC6QXtuCz-bUHVlk-xDzE_BqHtf_VthdCXAiJvGk9jlDjqZT0fTSgMfbEB7VXQ8KgC/s320/150.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
It will look a little like rabbit vomit but don't despair. It will not taste like it.<i> (Unless of course this *is* what rabbit vomit tastes like. In which case I may ask to be reincarnated as a bulimic bunny.)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaLW2hEYbFgR0TjRCafCvxZFMHH5o2DfmkLQRzn6qIHInNYJyNmL2OzKW9QtVgiuuQUT1tK8I6xKTUwxIXrCTzpwvjmqdKy79sXVTihcyJEjULOvqOqPNn5EyhyQqN4uFjLdV7s-_6RvEr/s1600/151.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaLW2hEYbFgR0TjRCafCvxZFMHH5o2DfmkLQRzn6qIHInNYJyNmL2OzKW9QtVgiuuQUT1tK8I6xKTUwxIXrCTzpwvjmqdKy79sXVTihcyJEjULOvqOqPNn5EyhyQqN4uFjLdV7s-_6RvEr/s320/151.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
Bake 20-25 minutes at 350 degrees and then let cool, in the pan, on a wire rack. When cooled completely, beat the crap outta the cream cheese, lemon zest and powdered sugar until it becomes light and fluffy. You can either spread the frosting on like a cake or cut into bars and pipe the frosting in neat little zig-zags. If you opt for the z's, I recommend halving the frosting recipe because I ended up with a lot left over. And four extra carrots. <i>Here bunny, bunny...</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8WqiHgNP9qFVzIc0gAA68kgIMaQUFyxFC3YzNW0wUK-ke7ueUMxi_sO3bwWQBec-igZBp8pluNtb-KGqNI8l5M4AuBgnnsYvdALsGO1IV-PNoNFpaY_yqxcmcNTT4Of1_5CISojaf-xv/s1600/152.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8WqiHgNP9qFVzIc0gAA68kgIMaQUFyxFC3YzNW0wUK-ke7ueUMxi_sO3bwWQBec-igZBp8pluNtb-KGqNI8l5M4AuBgnnsYvdALsGO1IV-PNoNFpaY_yqxcmcNTT4Of1_5CISojaf-xv/s320/152.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>I thought this was the perfect opportunity to practice piping and I'm glad Idid. In the beginning, they were schmoozy but by the twentieth bar, they were pretty <i>pretty</i>. This is thicker, denser, and a bit chewier than a cake so I am glad I opted for the bars. They were just the right size and easy to pick up and eat like a carrot.<br />
<br />
<i>Carrot Zucchini Bars</i><br />
<br />
2 eggs<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWYgoxDqDnCKHhEmfT5IaGVAimFVwN_a0Qm4KqY9A5Y44i5mpecQQ0J3jFqxqt3PSDXPZ6a9G8pGP85IMj6JWjGruFWuPnSes1T5sGp2raiqeE2hhhWFHY2lYWnFj14csSlS5UL2w2MclJ/s1600/154.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWYgoxDqDnCKHhEmfT5IaGVAimFVwN_a0Qm4KqY9A5Y44i5mpecQQ0J3jFqxqt3PSDXPZ6a9G8pGP85IMj6JWjGruFWuPnSes1T5sGp2raiqeE2hhhWFHY2lYWnFj14csSlS5UL2w2MclJ/s320/154.png" width="320" /></a>1/2 c applesauce<br />
1/4 c honey<br />
1 t vanilla<br />
3/4 c brown sugar<br />
1.5 c shredded carrots<br />
1 c shredded zucchini<br />
1.5 c flour<br />
1 t baking powder<br />
1/2 t ground ginger<br />
1/2 t cinnamon<br />
1/4 t baking soda<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2q58lPZUAX4LEgoIvcL4wHZTOIuBqnpNZLoJhBJCgQdEZg2lYM_1aFAhxUEbJnZr1r2nTU4HHAMlxcTx-STZdce-5h502t2PElj6tjrLecQVEvvQN8GG_tIbFfYGpOe6FmEC1GCZcQfTa/s1600/158.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2q58lPZUAX4LEgoIvcL4wHZTOIuBqnpNZLoJhBJCgQdEZg2lYM_1aFAhxUEbJnZr1r2nTU4HHAMlxcTx-STZdce-5h502t2PElj6tjrLecQVEvvQN8GG_tIbFfYGpOe6FmEC1GCZcQfTa/s320/158.png" width="320" /></a><i>Lemon Cream Cheese Frosting</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
8oz softened cream cheese<br />
1 c powdered sugar<br />
zest of one lemon<br />
<br />
Makes ~20 1-inch bars. Store in the refrigerator. Enjoy!<br />
<br />
Recipe adapted from Real Mom Kitchen, originally from <a href="http://www.bhg.com/recipe/bars/carrot-and-zucchini-bars/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Better Homes and Garden</a>.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-46750436311742032782012-08-25T21:29:00.000-07:002012-08-25T21:38:33.013-07:00My Kitchen Window Garden... and how to "regrow" things If you've not been living under a rock for the last six months, you know about <a href="http://pinterest.com/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a>. Well, I think of myself as living under a rock as far as pop-culture is concerned<i> (who is Nicki Min-whosiewhatsit anyway?)</i> but even <i>I </i>know about Pinterest. So if you don't know about Pinterest perhaps you are living under something larger than a rock. A very very large rock. Anyway, this is how I learned about "regrowing" stubs from lettuce, green onion and the right way to root pits from avocados. And that's what makes up my little kitchen window garden.<br />
<br />
Isn't the "Grow" sign awesome? I picked that bad boy up in the $2 clearance bin at Barnes and Noble a few weeks ago. It's the little things...<br />
<br />
I purchased the green onions (in the tall glass) from my local farmer's market close to two months ago. I've cut them down and "regrown" them three times. Each time, the shoots get thinner and less flavorful, but they grow nonetheless. This may be their last round, but we'll see.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmxx4XDYBZbNd6VFXrpKx_6eEcMmpuzfaYjut2620LU_iP3xb2ocKbZbqGzLBdN0gxHYz1JnxGvpFEFJpyc-l2xCSoyBjHGmRM5EDseF1dXeIX17IA4RHEfL-tt1LvOAps5kp1xGz_oIqT/s1600/010.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmxx4XDYBZbNd6VFXrpKx_6eEcMmpuzfaYjut2620LU_iP3xb2ocKbZbqGzLBdN0gxHYz1JnxGvpFEFJpyc-l2xCSoyBjHGmRM5EDseF1dXeIX17IA4RHEfL-tt1LvOAps5kp1xGz_oIqT/s320/010.png" width="320" /></a></div>
I've tried to root avocado pits a dozen or more times. Because I always forget about them, they dry up and die. The little bugger in the A&W mug is the very first one to actually sprout. In fact, I had moved him and his buddy (there was a second one in another mug) off of the dining table where they once lived to set the table for a family dinner and completely forgot about them. The mugs dried up completely and the roots were limp by the time I paid them some attention. I filled them up again and noticed this one had a sprout - looks like a spy glass from an old Hollywood submarine, pointing to the right. Since then its grown an inch, I swear. Apparently, they like water.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Pinterest also educated me about "regrowing" lettuce. I used to rip apart my lettuce leaf by leaf, leaving almost nothing at the bottom because I'd just cut off the stiff ends and toss them out when I made sammiches. I saw a pin that showed someone had cut off the stump and tossed it in water and the leaves sprouted again.<i> (I apologize I do not have the original pin, though I'm sure if you searched you could find it a thousand times.)</i><br />
<br />
I remembered that tidbit the last time I made salads and lopped off all the leaves in one slice. The stump went into a glass with a tiny amount of water, and in just 3 days I got this:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGsxwZqIbXn6PJFd0OT0noCenLzh3KVM_EDncsDgEa0xljjmpHaER5dUL8XPw6MBlKqK3dxUa3HikSw_6XyGeUIfG-lR4_GmEPQNWu4VpYWp0E0IgFSRONlilTRO59xfhaFe99vs5cpi3S/s1600/007.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGsxwZqIbXn6PJFd0OT0noCenLzh3KVM_EDncsDgEa0xljjmpHaER5dUL8XPw6MBlKqK3dxUa3HikSw_6XyGeUIfG-lR4_GmEPQNWu4VpYWp0E0IgFSRONlilTRO59xfhaFe99vs5cpi3S/s320/007.png" width="320" /></a></div>
Do you see those tiny little sprouts of leaves? Aren't they adorable? I'mma gonna eeeeaat them someday.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinWBreTEM5fQJ7LFnfW7sFg2_He7j6rNjol_Wdbt9IZsiRuVKKvVmGS_pO3b8-O9Ig1EiWgwACThPpLBjujU3Ecxtyg8Gl6A2i-KRWphJ_7ZPaGgNPTSveYCF61RtmY53So68lRBOMK2g1/s1600/008.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinWBreTEM5fQJ7LFnfW7sFg2_He7j6rNjol_Wdbt9IZsiRuVKKvVmGS_pO3b8-O9Ig1EiWgwACThPpLBjujU3Ecxtyg8Gl6A2i-KRWphJ_7ZPaGgNPTSveYCF61RtmY53So68lRBOMK2g1/s320/008.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-83778421410888015642012-08-23T20:12:00.001-07:002013-04-17T13:45:52.493-07:00Whey Bread<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqoWVfjet6g0om0VUHSYTPviu_8_KUEaa1ArgFj70jukFkOTtJJEt9GrsF_6izpgm4YNHcaAWYNVeq5eQCJzfiUU3AGRhp_6hfL4WF8k0bkgB9Ric71OIWqVntSz7didSvSnKYwvoyx8gr/s1600/whey+bread.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqoWVfjet6g0om0VUHSYTPviu_8_KUEaa1ArgFj70jukFkOTtJJEt9GrsF_6izpgm4YNHcaAWYNVeq5eQCJzfiUU3AGRhp_6hfL4WF8k0bkgB9Ric71OIWqVntSz7didSvSnKYwvoyx8gr/s1600/whey+bread.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqoWVfjet6g0om0VUHSYTPviu_8_KUEaa1ArgFj70jukFkOTtJJEt9GrsF_6izpgm4YNHcaAWYNVeq5eQCJzfiUU3AGRhp_6hfL4WF8k0bkgB9Ric71OIWqVntSz7didSvSnKYwvoyx8gr/s1600/whey+bread.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqoWVfjet6g0om0VUHSYTPviu_8_KUEaa1ArgFj70jukFkOTtJJEt9GrsF_6izpgm4YNHcaAWYNVeq5eQCJzfiUU3AGRhp_6hfL4WF8k0bkgB9Ric71OIWqVntSz7didSvSnKYwvoyx8gr/s1600/whey+bread.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqoWVfjet6g0om0VUHSYTPviu_8_KUEaa1ArgFj70jukFkOTtJJEt9GrsF_6izpgm4YNHcaAWYNVeq5eQCJzfiUU3AGRhp_6hfL4WF8k0bkgB9Ric71OIWqVntSz7didSvSnKYwvoyx8gr/s320/whey+bread.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Now that you've made <a href="http://mylifeasahermit.blogspot.com/2012/08/ricotta-fail.html" target="_blank">ricotta style cheese</a> from scratch, you probably have a bowl full of drained whey just taking up space in your refrigerator. Well don't fret dear reader, I've got just the thing for you to do with it!<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As much as I'd like to take the credit for this genius idea, I cannot. I asked my dear friend Google what to do with all this whey that drained from my cheese, as there certainly had to be something to do with it other than just dump it down the drain (I usually water my plants with "waste"water, but since this has vinegar in it I didn't want to chance it). Clever Google introduced me to Terri's Table, who uses her whey to make bread! You can find her recipe <a href="http://terristable.blogspot.com/2011/02/what-to-do-with-whey-after-making.html#.UA3gZ2FAbD4" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">here</a>. Why Terri, I do believe I will try to make bread with my whey!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What you'll need:</div>
<div>
3 cups warm whey or water*</div>
<div>
<div>
1 tablespoon yeast (1 packet)</div>
<div>
1 teaspoon salt</div>
<div>
1/4 cup sugar</div>
<div>
7(ish) cups all-purpose flour</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
*<i>I had kept my whey in the frig until I could figure out what to do with it, then warmed it in the microwave in 30 second increments until reached ~110 degrees. I had two cups of whey, so I added 1 cup water at about the same temperature.</i></div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
I've tried to make bread before, which you can read about <a href="http://mylifeasahermit.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-first-bread-baking-experience.html" target="_blank">here </a>and <a href="http://mylifeasahermit.blogspot.com/2011/02/bread-v20.html" target="_blank">here</a>, and while the essential process of all bread recipes is the same and super simple, the <i>technique</i> is what takes time to master. I think the key to making good bread is getting to know the texture of the dough - when its too sticky, too dry or up to Baby Bear's standards (Just Right!). The most essential ingredient is time. The last batch of bread I made was dense and rock hard because I got so excited to bake it that I forgot to let it rise a second time before I stuffed it in the oven. It would have made a great crouton for a giant's salad.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Terri says to dump everything but the flour into your bowl until the yeast gets foamy, which I did in my KitchenAid stand mixer. I then dumped in about 3 cups of flour and mixed on low speed with the paddle attachment. When it got to about pancake-batter-consistency, I switched to the dough hook, and, again on slow speed, mixed in the rest of the flour 1/4 cup at a time. I caught myself just staring into the mixer at one point, simply fascinated with the way the dough pulsed and moved around in the bowl as the dough hook spun it around. It was like watching the blob, or some other wild living thing breathe. I know, its silly to relate bread dough to mid-century B-flick horror creatures, but, alas, this is the way my mind works.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigFAJXr3krjAYAyc9C5K3IgEq86b7f1Ckn2mZ4h-JU_WLtuzNvMejVdihOaUixGnS91ThAQ8wqGCXwqqWWBi_y9RNU6dMtb1XGByDVkTgNb_rG95X5K5Ql4Ld3ilfEzUU16zvh1hvWKodg/s1600/0728021405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigFAJXr3krjAYAyc9C5K3IgEq86b7f1Ckn2mZ4h-JU_WLtuzNvMejVdihOaUixGnS91ThAQ8wqGCXwqqWWBi_y9RNU6dMtb1XGByDVkTgNb_rG95X5K5Ql4Ld3ilfEzUU16zvh1hvWKodg/s200/0728021405.jpg" width="200" /></a>After the dough thickened a bit, I turned the speed up to about a 2, which is still pretty low, and added flour a bit at a time until it all balled up around the dough hook and was pretty tacky. I pulled the dough out of the mixer and dumped it onto my floured marble kneading board. I kneaded it, adding sprinkles of flour each time it got a little tacky or stuck to the board, until my triceps started to hurt (which I will <strike>not </strike>admit was only about four minutes). I rolled it into a nice ball, and then transferred it to a large glass bowl lightly sprayed with oil (I used canola oil spray), covered with a dishtowel and let rise for a little longer than an hour.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After it had risen, I dumped it once again on the floured kneading board and repeated the kneading process, sprinkling a little more flour only when it stuck to the board, for another few minutes. I used a dough scraper to cut it in half (only because I just bought one and needed to find a reason to use it, but a large knife would be equally fine), and rolled each half into oblong rolls. I sprayed two glass loaf dishes and tucked each half of the dough into its own bed dish. I sprayed one side of parchment paper large enough to cover both dishes and covered those babies up.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfS_LQfWOuXJp45tWWDFSICZepR1XdLe_fPKr3JPTbKdESvSEC8m6tjWPgd4hmopr3MBYWIVPRasDHaS_vGDzA1Bu3eEDw39mHBO-QfOB5DpBGd_zgOu4xcNpl9Gq30FYREezwFRPhUsgo/s1600/0728021523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfS_LQfWOuXJp45tWWDFSICZepR1XdLe_fPKr3JPTbKdESvSEC8m6tjWPgd4hmopr3MBYWIVPRasDHaS_vGDzA1Bu3eEDw39mHBO-QfOB5DpBGd_zgOu4xcNpl9Gq30FYREezwFRPhUsgo/s320/0728021523.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white;">An hour later, they were were ready for baking. (And I realized that there are a few things in this life that I am completely incapable of: drawing a straight line, rolling my R's and cutting things in equal halves.) The loaf on the right is quite a bit larger than the one on the left, although not completely noticeable in the above photo.</span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white;">I used a trick I have read about in recipes for making French bread (even though I've never actually made French bread). I put one rack on the very bottom of the oven and placed a baking dish half-full </span><i style="background-color: white;">(half-empty?)</i><span style="background-color: white;"> of water and placed the other rack in the center of the oven with the two bread pans. The idea is that the water will create steam as it heats and will help the bread get that wonderful brown, crispy crust that you find on artisan breads. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxuOjPBpq_XL1NYLuKlBeIbwtXtD0VuqkQv2Z0wCp8i84zBgZkW5AVZ64UBV9JLpTap4HK1xmTD3pAZZNgj7Q5m7LcFxZsXmTpv0ybOv3AOFkyqIsJ0hhMz-yd-hzkrMltDnX0YV_09-F6/s1600/0728021602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxuOjPBpq_XL1NYLuKlBeIbwtXtD0VuqkQv2Z0wCp8i84zBgZkW5AVZ64UBV9JLpTap4HK1xmTD3pAZZNgj7Q5m7LcFxZsXmTpv0ybOv3AOFkyqIsJ0hhMz-yd-hzkrMltDnX0YV_09-F6/s320/0728021602.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What you get, or what <i>I</i> get anyway, is one loaf twice as tall as the other because, ya know, I apparently cannot cut things in half.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div>
This is the lightest, fluffiest, softest bread I have ever eaten - let alone anything I have ever made myself! I was so excited that I immediately sent a photo via text message to my sister proclaiming how my bread would put Sarah Lee to shame... and then I realized I was rubbing salt in her recent gluten-free wound... <i>D'oh!</i> Memory is also not one of my strong points, I guess. But bread - now I can do bread!!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihaUw3J4y7hWCr48JJ1C9dKsuT0yT5tWGA5HLt6uYTTq5Ovsk9P6HdMiPgFM8rJimsBZhiKPoSRsqDVIWSuJarPZ2kSMOYJcc8yIz7txZDBnBHXDD6L273BB3M2-ZpooDDfKZ0ZIA9GOC4/s1600/downsized_0728021612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihaUw3J4y7hWCr48JJ1C9dKsuT0yT5tWGA5HLt6uYTTq5Ovsk9P6HdMiPgFM8rJimsBZhiKPoSRsqDVIWSuJarPZ2kSMOYJcc8yIz7txZDBnBHXDD6L273BB3M2-ZpooDDfKZ0ZIA9GOC4/s320/downsized_0728021612.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I see absolutely nothing wrong with the disproportionate amount of carbs on that plate. Nothing at all. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Since this recipe made so much, I froze one loaf. It freezes perfectly and keeps well in the refrigerator, too. In the future, I think I may either halve the recipe from the onset or cut the original recipe into thirds so that I end up with three smaller loaves. I am positive that I will be making ricotta much more often - just so that I can make this whey bread :) Enjoy!<br />
<br />
*<i>Don't forget: you can reuse the parchment paper over and over until its ready for the recycle bin!</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
*<i>I apologize for the off-color photos. Husband had camera #1 at sea, camera #2 is broken and I am left with my fancy 2 megapixel dumb-phone and www.picmonkey.com (which is amazing for all of us uber disappointed Picnik fans).</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-55257740958014780042012-08-21T13:14:00.002-07:002012-08-31T12:09:04.245-07:00Ricotta: fail?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFzAWReHIJmymWQAY332msjpL3-rwkXQrS9vxMBSs1JGTtoQTEKNI4PieZfFHhjVtOiKTfNQINdrmsB0Yf8nX0iiDkDMg0yDGzyZANsVjJO5xCq_M-qfmVc4ePcN6BsF4vcfi4VDTT_1w2/s1600/049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFzAWReHIJmymWQAY332msjpL3-rwkXQrS9vxMBSs1JGTtoQTEKNI4PieZfFHhjVtOiKTfNQINdrmsB0Yf8nX0iiDkDMg0yDGzyZANsVjJO5xCq_M-qfmVc4ePcN6BsF4vcfi4VDTT_1w2/s320/049.JPG" width="307" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white;"> I may not be a great housewife. I sleep in </span><strike style="background-color: white;">almost </strike><span style="background-color: white;">every day. I made myself a chore list, but I don’t stick to it. I get lazy about dishes. I don’t put away my laundry most times. But I like to think that being obsessed with grocery shopping and cooking make up for all that.<i> (Which could also be why my husband has gained ten pounds since he came home six weeks ago.)</i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span>
I don’t think of myself as a food hoarder. My refrigerator is stocked with more beverages than food, and my pantry is only superficially faced one or two jars deep<i> (thanks, grocery store job training, for facing all of my cans and jars label-forward and sorted by genre).</i><br />
<br />
A recipe hoarder, on the other hand.. Yes, definitely. Since I’ve been introduced to <a href="http://pinterest.com/biscabee/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a>, I have been collecting recipes like a … well, something that collects stuff. Pack rat maybe. A virtual pack rat. I have even branched out into multiple Boards to accommodate <a href="http://pinterest.com/biscabee/noms-sweets/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Sweets</a>, <a href="http://pinterest.com/biscabee/noms-breakfast-brunch/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Breakfasts </a>and <a href="http://pinterest.com/biscabee/noms/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">other </a>recipe types.<br />
<br />
I seek out ways to make stuff the old, difficult way that takes hours upon hours instead of zapping frozen stuff in a microwave. Truth be told, most “old, difficult” ways are rather simple and when they produce quality food who cares how long it takes? I really *enjoy* cooking, and I especially love cooking “from scratch”.<br />
<br />
Needless to say that I was quite giddy when I saw <a href="http://www.theartofdoingstuff.com/about/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Karen’s </a>recipe for homemade<a href="http://www.theartofdoingstuff.com/homemade-ricotta-cheesein-30-minutes/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"> ricotta cheese</a>, and had to give it a try. I did a quick search for “homemade ricotta recipe” and found a dozen others similar to hers (most varying only in whether or not they used lemon juice or vinegar), so I went for it.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ1jvFZL6e13J6pbUJWW5Vwhq0WQYXosho1dlyaA-hzEqVhwaTpZLYATCjbTrv9YrDb-kY9Yae2bvQ_dBZhZAoVxfxM07EdKLHo_T32LxWaDvwKCHQsjlweMMVyKiJhdJ22x1kEgDnEhrO/s1600/027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ1jvFZL6e13J6pbUJWW5Vwhq0WQYXosho1dlyaA-hzEqVhwaTpZLYATCjbTrv9YrDb-kY9Yae2bvQ_dBZhZAoVxfxM07EdKLHo_T32LxWaDvwKCHQsjlweMMVyKiJhdJ22x1kEgDnEhrO/s200/027.JPG" width="135" /></a> I don’t drink regular milk (its rice or almond milk around our house), so I had to go out and buy milk for this occasion. Since I’ve not done this before, and was bound to fail, I just bought the store-brand 2% milk from our local Sprouts market. I usually opt for organic, especially where dairy is concerned, but figured I ought to be wallet conscious until I get the hang of this. And that, my dear friends, was the best decision ever. Because, and this is the big disclaimer here, I'm still learning. Get it? I'M A NEWB. Learn from my mistakes!<br />
<br />
So as the recipe goes, simple<span style="background-color: white;"> as can be, you just plop four ingredients (4 cups milk, 1 cup heavy cream, 2 Tblsp lemon juice or vinegar, salt) into a pot, heat, strain and eat! Um, nope. Not in this kitchen! I heated the milk/cream/lemon/salt until little bubbles started to form and set it aside for quite a bit longer than recommended. When I started to scoop out the curds, there were few. In fact, I got only two almost-spoonfuls. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span>
I thought perhaps I heated the milk too fast and so it didn’t have the opportunity to separate like it should. I decided to reheat the milk on lower heat this time. As soon as I put it back on the burner, my husband came in from the garage asking for a water refill and a spray bottle of vinegar for weed killing (being ever-so-conscious of not dragging his dirty boots into the kitchen because I just mopped the floor yesterday), and when I stepped out to hand it to him he called me out to see what he had done. Because I have the memory of a goldfish, I temporarily forgot all about my pot o’milk on the stove and wandered out into the driveway with him for a five minute chat. It wasn’t until I stepped back in from the garage that I saw my pot boiling over. ..sigh..<br />
<br />
I dumped it in the sink and started over. Batch #2 was put into a large stock pot where I figured perhaps the shallow layer of milk may help it heat more evenly. But again, the only thing that separated was the skin that had formed over the milk.<i> Dear google, please help!</i><br />
<br />
I sought out answers as to why my curds were not separating. I found a recipe different from all the others I had found in previous searches as well as a message board discussing various ways to make ricotta. Or, ricotta <i>style </i>cheese, as many of these same ricotta enthusiasts recognized that this method of making cheese is not "true" ricotta, but rather more similar to an Indian paneer. Regardless of what you call it, it is a divine soft cheese that surely inspired some of Botticelli's best.<br />
<br />
Some of these enthusiasts use whole milk, some use only cream, some use only whey from post-mozzarella production and some use citric acid rather than vinegar or lemon juice. Regardless of what they use, it seems the idea is to heat the milk first and THEN add the acid (ie vinegar or lemon juice or citric acid) to make it curdle. Then and only then can you separate the curds<i> (Duh.. curdle = curds)</i>. This particular recipe suggested heating the milk over low heat for a couple of hours, stirring often. So that’s the route I chose to reheat the pot full of milk, cream, and lemon juice.<br />
<br />
I do not fault Karen's recipe for quick thirty minute ricotta. In fact, I am jealous that she is able to do it that way. <i>Would my effort had been different if I tried whole milk or cream-top milk?</i> I wonder if she gets better quality milk and cream, being from a town in Canada? I don't trust big-city-dairy even if they have a "California Cows are Happy!" campaign. I especially don't trust big-city-dairy <i>because </i> they have a "California Cows are Happy!" campaign.<br />
<br />
I heated the milk, cream and lemon juice (already mixed in the milk/cream from the previous attempt) slowly over low heat. When it did start to form a skin, I gently and very slowly scraped my silicone spatula across the bottom of the pan in a Z pattern<i> (or an N, if you’re picky. Or a zigzag. Or a chevron. Or a Charlie Brown. Whatever creams your cheese.)</i> to mix in the skin and keep from burning on the bottom. It took a while to get to the recommended 180/195/205 degrees (depending on which source you trust), but even at about 157 degrees I could already tell the difference – it was thicker than after simmering in previous attempts. I was feeling confident!<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHlNffNdLmS6Y5bHf6IrBNfEKYFT-lqwZo8hfF0yZcEBSt7RUM1MyJzwEYHEFkYm5TiGAAO0hz1xcBdNdRVZsmGRqtP5QmfCrR7VLvtalkk0Ov6qzF2vifH5JcNuvr5QWZTjCdlnVCB7La/s1600/034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHlNffNdLmS6Y5bHf6IrBNfEKYFT-lqwZo8hfF0yZcEBSt7RUM1MyJzwEYHEFkYm5TiGAAO0hz1xcBdNdRVZsmGRqtP5QmfCrR7VLvtalkk0Ov6qzF2vifH5JcNuvr5QWZTjCdlnVCB7La/s320/034.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
At about 165 degrees, it started to look a little chunky, I assumed because it already has the lemon juice in it from the previous attempt. At 170 degrees it was quite a bit thicker. With another water refill and yard talk request, I was smart enough to set a 2 minute timer (AND take it with me) so that I could politely walk away from weed-pulling plans and go back inside to Charlie Brown the milk.<br />
<br />
At 175 degrees it started to get super chunky in the middle and at the long awaited 180 degrees it was like soupy porridge. Well, I’ve never made porridge so I don’t really know if that’s true. But I took it off of the heat anyway, gently chevronned in about ¼ teaspoon of vinegar (just in case) and let it sit for 20+ minutes.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5i94tz4EDH3VDZaJ6iVlBMEKxe3ZTzhVPepzXrlyIPg4sg76FwQ-pdTbsV0KVaMheTLPc730FOZ_pYUaNZzzfGS877L8w43NAI4SIqwcgaSwBK_3M8S-8jdhbvVFC-vCdQfZc2UlEzjPD/s1600/036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5i94tz4EDH3VDZaJ6iVlBMEKxe3ZTzhVPepzXrlyIPg4sg76FwQ-pdTbsV0KVaMheTLPc730FOZ_pYUaNZzzfGS877L8w43NAI4SIqwcgaSwBK_3M8S-8jdhbvVFC-vCdQfZc2UlEzjPD/s200/036.JPG" width="150" /></a><br />
<br />
It looked worlds different than the first time, which in retrospect probably yielded only the skin (so I tossed it out). I started to scoop out the curds with a slotted spoon, found it to be too small (the curds were slopping over the sides) and switched to my large plastic slotted cooking spoon, which turned out to be too large (small curds were slipping through the slots) and finally settled on dumping the whole damn lot into the strainer. After a few minutes I found that the whey had drained and met up with the bottom of the strainer, thus no longer straining but rather steeping like soupy porridge tea, and had to come up with a plan G. I had to switch to another bowl that was taller and not as wide so that the strainer didn’t reach the bottom yet could easily rest on the rims.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNFa-P9vyxSJOxbaMRq7yfil0WWbg6DvoYLmEInUi8iFM0AAu8TXg40e8M9IJ1y2BsWiC-23I9_F2w5y_-k0qgNZnCxsNfeUl93ZgV4VjO32lYNkkRJ2fIAQ_MAPD_9S8qrkrfpJU_zTkP/s1600/043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNFa-P9vyxSJOxbaMRq7yfil0WWbg6DvoYLmEInUi8iFM0AAu8TXg40e8M9IJ1y2BsWiC-23I9_F2w5y_-k0qgNZnCxsNfeUl93ZgV4VjO32lYNkkRJ2fIAQ_MAPD_9S8qrkrfpJU_zTkP/s200/043.JPG" width="150" /></a> After ten more minutes or so of draining, I picked up the four corners of the cheesecloth (as had been recommended in some other recipes), cinched it off with a bag clip and hung it from a cabinet to drain. I,uh, don’t recommend this method because I was afraid the whole time that the door would pop open and the glasses I had put on top of the cheesecloth to weigh it down would come flying out and break in my cheese. Other folks recommended tying onto the faucet to drain in the sink (but I would only do this if you keep a bowl beneath it to catch the whey that drains from the cheese!). Thirty minutes later - voila! Cheese!<br />
<br />
In retrospect I should have let it drain longer than 30 minutes, but we were starving and jumped the gun to make dinner. When I opened the cheesecloth, I found the most wonderful soft cheese and it was perfect stuffed in chicken breast with spinach and garlic :)<br />
<br />
Do not - I repeat: DO NOT throw out the whey that drains from your cheese! It can be used, and I'll tell you how in another post... <i>dun-dun-dunnn!</i> Until then, keep it refrigerated (or frozen) until you can use it!<br />
<br />
I hope your first try is more fruitful than mine. Enjoy!<br />
<br />
<i>Update: I've made this a second time, heating the milk and cream alone before adding the lemon juice and it yielded the same problems. I had to reheat the milk/cream/lemon juice and add a smidge of vinegar. Perhaps my lemons are too old and don't have enough zing, or I used too little juice or heated too quickly or too slowly or... who knows. Fact is, I had to reheat slowly until it chunked in the pot and then let it drain a couple of hours. It still turned out dee-lish. If you have any tips or tricks I'd love to hear them!</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2877194715603226910.post-70691699386913292692012-08-02T10:14:00.000-07:002012-08-02T10:14:34.296-07:00My life with infertilityFunny old men joke about a women's "biological clock ticking" but really its no laughing matter. There truly is an underlying yearning, more than just wanting something cute to dress up and call my own. I have a cat for that.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, perhaps when I was told I possibly could not, I felt within myself and deep seeded desire to have children. I'd always wanted children, but this is different. Hindu philosophy teaches that all the world was created from desire. This may be deeper than desire. If I could turn myself inside out, metaphysically, this feeling would be the atom of all my energy.<br />
<br />
I try not to think about it. It makes me far too emotional. But not thinking about it is not helping me. To not think about it is to not do anything about it, to not learn anything about it.<br />
<br />
When I do work myself up to research infertility and its options online, I hang in there for only about 20-30 minutes before I break down. One page leads to another leads to another leads to yet another, and before I know I'm hopeless.<br />
<br />
I begin to think that it's not fair. It's not fair, all those accidental pregnancies. All those kids born to those who neglect and otherwise abuse them. All those kids living in squalor and sinking beneath the weight of poverty and Welfare. And then I begin to feel angry and judgemental.<br />
<br />
But I have to stop myself. Acknowledge what I'm feeling. Remind myself that what I'm feeling is not fair. It's not fair to compare myself to millions of other women with different biology, different circumstances and different goals in life. Remind myself that it is not my place to judge. Those women are not all junkies, nor abusers, nor unworthy of having a family.<br />
<br />
We all know what it is feel love. To feel hope. And to feel the absence of them both.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08310747195477382916noreply@blogger.com0