Baby Food Whisperererer

When Pman was a babe, I thought making your own baby food was for crunchy moms who did not shave their legs and practiced elimination communication. 

How could anyone possibly have the time to puree actually tidbits of food, spoon the food into jars and put them in the fridge?

I thought these women had too much time on their hands and were obviously neglecting their precious newborns to grind up a blender full of peas.

I was wrong.

Major wrong.

Since December, I started making all of SBG baby food.  I love it.  I know exactly what she is eating and she is getting used to the food we eat on a regular basis. 

For veggies, I buy canned veggies (typically 69-89 cents).  Open.  Drain. Dump into a blender, okay, I do have magic bullet, but not the specific baby food magic bullet. Then I spoon the puree into some baby food jars I have.

I do with same with overripe fruit.

Sweet potatoes are the easiest.  Heat the oven to 350, wash the sweetpot, stab it repeatedly with a fork, wrap in foil and toss in the oven for an hour.  If the sweetpot is for one of us, then I slice it in the middle and serve.  If it is for SBG, then I simply scoop it out and put it in a jar.  One sweetpot equals about 4 ounces of baby grub.

The biggest downfall seems to be that I have ended up with a few jars of a carrot, banana, pea combo, but SBG does not seem to mind. 

More than anything she likes to eat exactly what we are eating, Nutri Grain bars, oatmeal, broccoli cheese soup and the list goes on.

I do draw the line at meat though.  Pureeing chicken is just beyond me.  It smells.  It's yucky looking and the texture of the resulting chicken mush makes me gag.  So that I buy.  Although, she is getting some teeth, so perhaps soon I will no longer have to purchase the vileness that is strained meats.

Who's in Charge?

First a few status updates about the SBG- she seems to share Parker's love of pork lo mien.  She is sprouting her first tooth! She continues to be the boss of all things Phillips family, but she is becoming less of a tyrant about it. Just about four months left until we no longer have to buy formula!

A few days ago Parker was helping me cook dinner.  Josh started messing with Parker in some father/son way that is usually funny to Parker and that I will never understand.  However, when Parker is cooking, it is very serious. 
He met Josh's attempt at rough housing with a, "Daddy, go away." In a serious, but bratty sort of way.

Josh took him by the hand led him to the other room to "have a little chat."  I could not see them, but I could hear them. 

Josh and I have an agreement.  If one parent is disciplining Parker (or Peyton when the time comes) the other parents stays out of it.  We present a united front, but only one of us can be the leader. Until this agreement was in place there were a lot of toes being stepped on. 

As I hung back in the kitchen, SBG strolled around my feet in her walker and grabbed at my pants leg, I chopped onions and listened to P and J's conversation.

J said, in a stern but comforting tone, something to the effect of: "I'm the Daddy.  You cannot tell me to go away.  If you want me to stop you need ask nicely.  Okay?  Understood?"

Parker's reply in the same stern, yet comforting tone: Yes. Okay, but Daddy when I am cooking with Mommy, you need to stay out of the way.  It is dangerous.  So you just stay safe, okay.

Then Parker glided back into the kitchen with an air of, he won't be bothering us anymore.  A beat or two later Josh came in with a look of utter confusion on his face. 

A few days after this happened they were calling for snow in our area, we didn't get a single flake.  However, as the town prepared for the Blizzard of 2012 we were running errands and got stuck behind a big truck.  On the back of the truck, staring at us for the better part of an hour, was a sign that read:

CAUTION DEICER IN PROGRESS

DEICER?  Did they mean decider?  Maybe something about deer?  Honestly we were both stumped.  Then finally, I said, "It says DE-ICER!"  Since we had not actually said any of our internal thoughts outloud, I wasn't sure if Josh knew what it said or would even know what I was talking about, until...

"OOhhhh!.. It's needs a hyphen."

I didn't check, but something tells me Parker was either rolling his eyes or smacking his hand on his forehead- Morons.

First Word

Parker's first word was duck.  In fact, I do not think "mom" or "dad" were even his second word.  They came about eventually, but not initially.

Sadly, SBG seems to be following that pattern.  It seems her first communicative word is bottle. 

She does not say it out right, instead she says, "BA! BA! BA!" with passion and zeal of a starving (although she is not starving) infant.  When you actually show her a bottle the "BA! BA! BA!" reaches an even higher pitch and becomes some how more passionate- emphatic even.

When you take it away again, she furrows her little baby brow and questions, "BA? BA? BA?"

Also, and I know this is a stretch, but if you say, "Do you want a bottle?" She replies, "YEA!"

It's so cute to see her little tooth-free gums, puffy cheeks and sweet lips bob together in that BA motion.  What is not so cute though is that she also realizes this elicits some reaction from all of us.  We either laugh or hastily scramble over each other to GET. HER. THE. DAMN. BA BA BA.

So her first word, or semi-word, seems to be directly related to demanding food.  Yikes.

This next bit should come as not surprise then. 

The other day I was in the grocery store with both kiddos.  At this particular store, if you are buying something, you are allowed to take 1 cookie from the bakery display.  Parker LOVES this grocery store.  He picked a chocolate chip cookie and asked me to "piecea half it."

I'm not sure where piecea half it came from.

I did as he asked and held the other half of the cookie in the hand attached to the arm that was wrapped around SBG. 

Guess who ate her first chocolate chip cookie at 7 months and 2 days.  Of course as soon as we got home I had to give her a BA! BA! BA! to wash it down.

Addendum

January 2012 will forever be in our minds the month we were all Down with the Sickness.

I thought it was over after the "puking on the  steps" incident.  I even took Pman to a birthday party on Friday and a football party on Saturday.

Then it happened.

It seems Parker has two major fears.
1. Little monkeys crawling up from the crack in between his bed and the wall and biting his toes.  Seriously.  Sometimes he says they are monsters, but mostly it's little monkeys.  We have to stuff two pillows in the crack to keep the toe eating monkeys at bay.

2. Puking in his bed.  A couple weeks ago he woke me out of a dead sleep because he thought he puked in his bed.  He didn't it was just drool.  I turned his pillow over, kissed his head and wandered back to bed.

Then Saturday night, one of those two great fears came to fruition.

Parker puked in the bed. And on one of his three pillows. 

The drama pretty much peaks there.  I pulled the sheets off the bed and tossed them in the laundry room to be dealt with in the morning.  Josh hosed Pman off in the shower.  Parker and I had a slumber party in my room and Josh slept in the guest room with the baby monitor because I put him on SBG duty for the remainder of the evening.

I did sleep with my back to Pman most of the night though because I kept thinking that he was going to puke on me, he didn't.

Once day left of this dreadful month.

Sickos

 January 9- Pman gets a Hepatitis A vaccine booster.  SBG is diagnosed with a raging case of pink eye.  No biggie.  Little drops and let's roll on. (I know you know this, but I'm aiming for an effect here.)

January 18- Both kids were sick.  Headed back to the docs.  SBG diagnosed with bronchitis and a sinus infection- "Ears look clear though!"  Says a cheery pediatrician.  "But she'll need to be put on a nebulizer."  I do not have asthema, nor does Josh.  Prior to 1/18/12 I had no clue what hell it is to nebulize a 6 and a half month old.  The doc also suggested since Pman was coughing, but did not have bronchitis-yet.  He could be nebbed too.

Awesome.

BONUS! They were also both put on a diarrhea causing prescription.  Pman seems to have escaped that, but SBG's sheets and jammies have been on a constant washing machine cycle. The HOT/HOT cycle.
Throughout the week, at different times they each had low-grade fevers, but nothing too major.

January 21- We host a family party at our house because that's just how we do.  Our family does not let a couple sick kids slow them down.  Bring on the kiddo Tylenol, antibacterial Lysol wipes and cork screws- we are having a party. honestly, I had already gone to Bj's for supplies and cleaned my house.  I even changed ALL the sheets!

January 23- We were out running errands because really it's nearly been a week and they both seemed fine in the morning.  As we pulled into the driveway I looked in the rearview and Pman had big dark circles under his eyes.  I told him I would open the front door and he needed to take off his stuff and head upstairs for a nap.  He agreed- uh-oh!

As I get him out of the car and we walk up the porch he bursted into tears.  He was afraid I was going to leave SBG in the car.  He was wailing.  I have NEVER done that, so I'm not sure where that came from. 

I opened the door and he stumbled in to take off his shoes I hear the gurgle.  I turn around and he is puking on the carpeted steps.  After helping him finish up and getting SBG out of the car, he burst into tears again.
"What's wrong honey?  Are you going to throw up again?"
"No.  Cleeeaaaannnnn IIIIITttttt UUUuuuUUUP!"

On the upside somewhere in all this mess I found a WalMart gift card on the side of the road with $6 still on it- SCORE!...?

First Weekend of a New Year

This past weekend I had a girls weekend with my besties.  We drank, ate, and sat and repeated the process to our hearts content.

This is the face of a happy mama- recharging

Pman spent the weekend with his Mimi, Pop-Pop, Uncle Andrew and Aunt ZZ.

His Uncle Andrew took him on his first trip to the skate park.

SBG and Josh had a daddy daughter weekend and perhaps it is best there are no photos.  When I came back home, the poor girl was wearing the same pants she was when I left and she woke up on Monday morning with a mean case of pink eye.

After a Monday morning trip to the kiddo doctor, where Pman received a vaccine (no new news- he still hates them and they hurt him both physically and emotionally.  He emits a wail the likes of which you have never heard.)  SBG was officially diagnosed with the pink eye.

That afternoon we welcomed the great Blizzard of 2012.  SBG, first snow.

Poor Pman put on his snow pants and everything in an effort to make his first snow angel of the season. Alas his attempts were fruitless.





Possible New Tradition

Disclaimer: I did not support this (or stop it) in any way.

For Pman's first Christmas we went to this small little church near my parents' house.  We are Catholic, the church is Episcopal.  We are not overly religious, so we are mostly okay with blurring the line a bit.  Including my family and Wee-P and the priest and his wife, there were maybe 8 people in attendance.  We sat in the choir pews.

Here is a little bit of background information.  When a child is born Catholic they are Baptised shortly after their birth.  Then they typically go to Sunday school or CCD or something similar to learn about God and prepare to receive their First Communion (Body and Blood of Christ) around age 7.

Parker is 3 and a half, as you will note from a recent post.

This past Christmas, we found ourselves at that same church from our first Christmas as a family of 3.  This time, including our family of now 4, there were maybe 15 people.  Again, we sat in the choir pews and had actual input as to what songs we sang and when we sang them.  It made for an informal, homey service.

When the priest got to the part where he blessed the Body and Blood of Christ, he called all 15 of us to come stand with him at the alter.

The priest pulled out a little step stool and asked Pman to join him on the raised platform, through the prayer and blessing.  P went up and made me stand (awkwardly) on the steps around their heightened area.

The priest blessed the Body (bland pressed wafer) and Blood (cheap sherry).  Then he dipped the Body in the Blood and handed it to P.

My sweet son put it in his mouth, and promptly pulled out half of it and placed it quietly and lightly on the table in front of him.

A beat or two later, the priest dipped ANOTHER wafer into the sherry and this time P took a bite and handed the dry part to me saying, "I don't like this part."

Indeed, I'm sure you don't.

In a incident that can only be described as sheer insanity, the priest once again dipped a third blessed wafer into the alcohol and handed it to P.

He happily ate the whole thing.

Have you ever seen the Vitameatavegamen episode of "I Love Lucy"?  This chain of events mimicked Lucy's commercial..  I fully expected P to grab the cup from the priest and toss back a large gulp- thankfully that did not happen.

Then the priest said, "Somewhere my [priest teacher] is rolling over in his grave.  No wait, I can't say that because as far as I know he is still alive."

Well now, this is one church service I will never forget.  I think Parker will be begging to go to church from now on.  Jokes on him when the next priest is not so willy nilly with the Eucharist.