Mommy cooks

Ever since Milo has been old enough to eat people food, I've experimented with recipes from "Cooking for Baby: Wholesome, Homemade, Delicious Foods for 6 to 18 Months". Some are not so much recipes as how-tos -- how to make pureed fruits and vegetables. Recently, though, I've tried a few of the "real meal" recipes toward the back of the book. Milo is fast approaching 18 months!

The three I've tried have been quite tasty: beef stew, macaroni and cheese, and fish fingers. And Milo has absolutely refused to try them. Scratch that, he did eat the mac and cheese but not as greedily as he eats the kind from a box. (And really, homemade is only a tiny bit more work). I know toddlers can be picky eaters. I know -- from many accounts and experts -- that it can take up to 15 attempts to get a toddler to accept a new food. But I don't really like to cook. And I don't really enjoy spending a lot of time on a recipe that is going to be rejected out of hand.

Still, the S.O. and I did enjoy the food, and the recipes weren't that complicated. At least I didn't spend all afternoon creating something just for the boy to have him scream about trying it. And at least he will eat lots of other things. I'll just have to keep trying.

The book is very informative and, as I said, the recipes are tasty. I'd recommend this book for moms-to-be and/or moms of little ones.

Now, where did I put those oven mitts?

14 months

Dear Milo,

This past month has been so busy. We traveled to see your cousin graduate from high school and we brought another of your cousins home with us for a visit. Traveling threw off your sleep schedule so you're now getting up around 5 a.m. every day. We're working on the final stages of weaning, making nap time more difficult. Plus, we've been going out doing more to entertain your 16-year-old cousin.

We got to go behind the scenes at the as yet not open to the public elephant enclosure at the zoo. I think Daddy, your cousin and I were a lot more excited about it than you were, but you enjoyed the time with all of us together.

We've gone hiking and shopping and all kinds of other activities. You mostly enjoy our outings, until you get tired of being held or told to not grab things.

You are very communicative right now. You can't always tell us what you want, but you sure try. You've picked up lots of new words, including "bubbles," "belly button" and "down" (which you also sign). You listen and follow directions -- when you're in the mood to. You surprise me constantly with the things you know.

You are becoming a creature of habit. If we do something once, you seem to think it's something we have always done -- riding in the laundry basket, pulling apart the peonies in the front yard, talking a walk first thing in the morning.

As I always say, you amaze me every day. I may get frustrated with some of the things you do, but your smile and hugs never fail to melt my heart.

I love you, little man.

Love,

Mommy

Frustrated*

I have a Honda Element. It's been an extremely practical car, with its adjustable -- and removable -- rear seats, its easy clean floor, its spacious interior. We bought it a few years ago with kids in mind and when we've hauled around my nieces and nephews or other kids, it's been great.

I had some concerns about the clam-shell doors in crowded parking lots but haven't had a problem ... yet.

Yesterday, we went to install Baby's car seat in my Element. It fits just fine. But take a look at this photo again -- click here -- and check out where the back seat starts. (I'll wait.) The back seat is behind the door opening. That's great for bigger kids and awesome for adults -- look at all that leg room! Now imagine trying to get a squirmy infant into a rear-facing car seat. Ack! There's no room at all!

So, we're left to decide between me being constantly frustrated with my car, using the S.O.'s vehicle (which is older and doesn't have stability control or side-curtain air bags), purchasing a different car seat -- either a really expensive one that swivels or an infant car seat that comes off the base and would need to be replace when Baby reaches its weight limit -- or trading in my Element for a vehicle with normal back doors and back seats. The last one seemed the most appealing yesterday when I just threw up my hands and walked away. However, my Element is so close to being paid off, that option seems silly (and is, obviously, the most expensive one).

I was pretty excited about the car seat we bought because it converts from a rear-facing infant seat (that holds 5-35 pound child) all the way up to a booster seat that will hold a kid up to 100 pounds. And we used our rewards from Costco so we paid next to nothing for it.

I know the infant seats are convenient -- especially when the little one falls asleep in the car -- but I was hoping to avoid buying more than one seat. And while the idea of a new car is always appealing, we really are trying to save money. Baby will need to go to a good college to support his mommy and daddy someday.

At this point, I will probably let (make) the S.O. decide what we should do, and I will concentrate on these final few weeks of growing Baby. Although, dear readers, your advice is also welcome.

*Frustrated - disappointed; thwarted

When racism rears its ugly head and that ugly head is called Grandpa

My father is a bigot -- always has been, always will be. And even though I hate it, there's not a whole lot I can say or do at this point in his life to change him. He's 74 and set in his ways. There was never anything I could say or do to change him, but that doesn't stop me from cringing when he makes a racial slur.

In case you can't tell from his photographs, the S.O. is mixed race. He is half Korean. He also has some Native American blood running through his veins. My heritage is mostly Irish and English with a bit of German and French thrown in for flavor -- but, you know, basically lily white.

My dad has accepted my choice in partner and has never said anything to me about being with a Korean man. But it also hasn't stopped him from using offensive language when talking about other people of Asian descent.

Recently, Dad shared the news that two of my cousins are also expecting babies. An older male cousin recently married a woman from Guatemala, and she is pregnant. More scandalous (to the family, not to me) is the female cousin who is pregnant -- out of wedlock -- by a black man. (I'll wait while you fan yourself on your fainting couch.)

Dad went on to say something to the effect that a half-Guatemalan baby and a half-Korean baby (never mind that our baby will only be a quarter Korean) is better than a half-black baby. Except, of course, he didn't use the word "black." Backhandedly implying that none of them are as good as white babies.

The bigotry is ugly. I hate it. And if one of my friends was to say what he said I would have called her on it. But, as I said, I have tried over the years to change Dad, and nothing's worked. So I say nothing and hope my silence says I disapprove. Not that he cares.

Dad doesn't live nearby so my child won't be constantly exposed to his racism. Still, I hope that when Dad does see my kid, he can rein in some of that ugliness. Because I also hope that Dad is around long enough for my kid to get to know Grandpa ... without having to know that side of him.

Wishful thinking.

Embracing the frustration

As someone who has suffered a miscarriage and was told I wasn't likely to get pregnant without artificial assistance, I'm trying really hard to embrace all the symptoms of this pregnancy. That includes the morning sickness (I'd like to kick whoever named it "morning sickness" right in the throat. If it only came and lasted through the morning, it wouldn't be so bad.) and the fatigue.

The main problem is I'm not that much of a holistic, airy-fairy kind of person. I'm more a live-in-the-moment, kick-the-butt-of-anything-that-gets-in-my-way kind of gal. Obviously, that has to change with the coming of Nubbins (I'm stealing that name from my good friend Lisa over at Grandma's Briefs). Soon -- OK, now -- I have to think about the future and about someone other than myself and the S.O. And I really do need to learn to embrace the symptoms and see them as good things.

I've been lucky that the nausea hasn't led to vomiting -- I guess. But it has meant a change in my normally healthy-to-the-extreme style of eating. Where I used to love most vegetables, now only a few taste good. Lettuce pretty much made me gag. I'm eating lots of yogurt and other dairy, and fruit is OK. So I haven't started eating entire boxes of Oreos or having chili-cheese fries for breakfast, but I do crave ice cream a lot (hold the pickles and that silly stereotype).

The most frustrating thing of all, though, is the extreme drop in my energy level. Before I became pregnant, I was working out five or six days a week. I alternated kickboxing workouts with Boot Camp. I was doing all kinds of crazy moves, like push-ups with my toes on a stability ball. I'd crank out 12 or 15 reps, while the 20-somethings around me just gawked. Now, I'm lucky to do about 10 kneeling push-ups at a time. Still, I tell myself it's a good thing. I was in probably the best shape of my life before the pregnancy, so now my surplus energy is going to Nubbins. That way the nubs can become actual arms and legs and the tiny little brain stem can grow into a full-fledged brain.

And when he or she grows into a real-live person, it will have been worth it to miss out on my kickboxing and eat a few extra scoops of ice cream.