Pregnancy and Motherhood Archive

About five weeks ago, I had the following exchange on Facebook:

Friend 1: Mmmm. I just made some quinoa for lunch with a bit of chicken bullion granules and a palm full of Sweet Bell Pepper dip mix. Mmmm!

Friend 2: Quinoa is Keen!

Friend 1: Hee hee.

Me: I tried to like Quinoa because it’s supposed to be all healthy and have magical powers or something, but the texture was a little too odd for me. I also thought it was a little bitter. Am I the only one?

Friend 1: It’s not bitter if you rinse it enough. I enjoy the texture, but I don’t expect anyone in my house to like it. I had it for the first time just a few weeks ago and just had to get some. I will even eat it for breakfast with brown sugar. Yummy!

Friend 2: It can be bitter and the texture does take getting used to. Did you pre-rinse or soak your quinoa prior to using it in your recipe?

Friend 2: LOL about “magical powers”

Friend 2: The rinsing/soaking helps to remove the saponins which are bitter.

Me: I didn’t rinse it because the box I bought said it wasn’t necessary. I think they lie! I mention the magical powers because it seems like every time there is a new health food discovery it’s like everyone pounces on it, and then they make all sorts of claims to the point that you think, “Wow if I eat nothing but that stuff I can live F-O-R-E-V-E-R!”

Friend 2: I am now rolling on the floor laughing…happy?!
I’ve had the same conversation in my head…wow, I must eat this…the most recent one being “Spirulina”…I just can’t get over the green-ness of it though.

Acai berries seem to be that new greatest thing on the planet, but when I wrote about the magical powers of the latest discoveries, I was actually thinking about Broccoli. I know, it’s nothing new really. I went out to a Thai restaurant for lunch with a friend a few years ago, and she noticed that I was pushing all the broccoli to the side. She told me, “You need to eat your broccoli, it’s a super food. It helps prevent cancer.” I kid you not. Funny how I never hear the same about other foods closely related to broccoli that I do eat, like cabbage. I’m just sayin’. I mentioned this on my Facebook status and a friend of mine who needs her butt kicked sent me a link about super foods.

About a week after poking a little fun at the whole lot of magical super foods a dietitian visited our house through the program Sophia is enrolled in to help with her speech and food issues. She basically told me that I was doing a great job providing a good nutritional variety to Sophia despite her issues. She gave me a list of things to try like pumpkin bread, zucchini bread, and carrot bread. She assured me that despite the bread form the vitamins from the veggies will still carry through. She also suggested, get this, quinoa. Yep the super magic food strikes again. Maybe I’ll make quinoa muffins. The dietitian gave me a paper listing her suggestions and on it said, “You are setting a good foundation be consistent and persistent.” She had mentioned that because Sophia refuses to eat dinner, and I don’t make special meals just for her, she is going too long without food. She said we should offer a high protein snack like nuts or quinoa before bedtime. The child is holding out for cookies and other sweets. I’m not giving in to that. Sorry, that’s a no go.

Kurt made me promise that I wouldn’t blame him for the way Sophia was dressed since I told him to let her choose what she wanted to wear, so I won’t. It’s really my fault. I told him to let her choose her own clothes. I assumed that any normal human being would know that they need to select either the top or the bottom themselves and then give the toddler two or three choices of the other that are known to match. Kurt didn’t do that. He laid out three random bottoms and three random tops. I have pictures of the results. Please be warned that they my burn your eyes.

Sophia was oddly hyper that day (2/8/10). It may have been due to the bright color selection or it’s also possible that her selection was a reflection of her mood. I had such a hard time getting a good shot of her that I started running up and down the stairs hoping that would slow her down enough for me to focus on her. I put her hair up in a ponytail and wanted pictures of that, so Kurt tried to help me by holding her, and upside-down. Then she ran in and out of her room giggling as Kurt chased her. He finally caught the elusive toddler again to complete her look for the day. Those are dress shoes he’s putting on her, with socks, she insisted.

Yes, she actually went out in public looking like that. We aren’t cruel. It was her choice.

“You know what I love about the Smurf toddler pictures?”
“No, what?”
“I love that you sat back with the camera and just let her do her thing. Some parents get all bent out of shape about that kind of thing.”
“Well then I did a whole lot better than that…I gave her the pen.”

The story behind the 55 and a little beyond: Last weekend we had a day set aside for potty training. I barricaded Sophia and myself in our basement floor because it’s tiled and there is a bathroom. We played with the big LEGOS and read lots of books. We got bored after a while so I gave her a blue pen and paper. I knew she would draw on herself a little but I ignored it. I heard her drawing on the paper and after about a minute turned to look at her and there she was, Smurf toddler.

Shortly after the pictures, I sat her on the potty and read a few more books while she did nothing. She did the sign for dirty and wanted to wash her hands at the sink so I let her. A couple minutes later she came out saying, “wet, wet, wet”. I’m looking at her like, “no shit, you were just playing in the sink.” Then I saw the blue trail from the ink washing off the bottom of her feet.
“Oh, you peed?”
“Yes.”

Kurt got a little bent out of shape about Smurf toddler. He asked me if it was a special washable pen. I said, “It was a pen off your desk. I’m sure it’ll come off eventually.”

A little later Sophia peed in the potty. She sat on the potty for about 30 minutes while I read to her. She started to go and then looked at me, “uh oh, wet, wet,” and she tried to hold it. Then she saw my big smile and realized it was a good thing, “Yay! Are you peeing in the potty?”
“Yes” she smiled.

Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man. You may also visit Flash Fiction Friday 55’s, a blog dedicated to hosting 55 Flash Fiction Friday posts.

I took Sophia to a science-y indoor children’s play place a couple weeks ago. She had fun playing in the water area. I sat on a nearby bench for a while but she retrieved me after few minutes. She was unable to navigate around the adults milling about and micromanaging their children’s play. One parent kept telling their eighteen month old to not splash the water despite his wearing the provided waterproof smock and the floor being designed for water to drain underneath. *gratuitous eye roll*

I helped my invisible toddler around the adults so that she could play where she wanted. There were a couple other toddlers near her and their parents, a couple feet from me, were watching them. One mother observed how their two toddlers seemed oblivious of the kids around them and kept bumping into everyone to get the toys they wanted. She made the general sweeping remark, “Isn’t it funny how kids don’t seem to notice anyone else around them?” My kid doesn’t seem to have that problem, but whatever.

Sophia wanted to go to the other side of that area and tried to get around sweeping-generalizations-woman who was standing right in the middle. Sophia tried to go around the front of her, but the woman shifted her weight thereby blocking the path. Sophia went around the other side of the woman, and she almost made it. Not two minutes after her observation of toddlers, the woman sidestepped right into Sophia. Sophia didn’t fall, just stumbled, but the woman was completely oblivious. It seems to be a hereditary gene.

We went to friends’ house who hosts several parties a year. The last one we went to was just last month, their eldest son’s fifth birthday. Sophia didn’t do so well at that one. It started at a local bouncy house party place where she screamed and cried for an hour straight and then cried all the way to their house. She was fine once inside the house.

She must have remembered that party, because as Kurt and I approached their front door Sophia grabbed Kurt’s finger in an attempt to drag him back to the car. After we got through the door and into their playroom for a few minutes, she was fine.

We had five, count them FIIVE, two-year olds, a three year old, a five year old, and a six year old. The place became rather loud. At some point those of us in the house were trying to pawn off children to those in the garage with the homemade beer and projector screen TV, but they all kept coming back. I didn’t catch all of what was said, but at some point the husband of the hostess was apologizing for the kids coming back. She said it was ok because we’ve already missed about half the game, and I said, “there’s a game on?” Not that I care, I didn’t even know who was playing. Well, ok I could name one team, but I don’t know who won this year. I don’t understand the game anyway, and I was busy feeding Sophia brownies (not that kind!), chips and a Reese’s peanut butter cup.

It was a day of a lot of firsts. Sophia didn’t just play along side the other kids, she actually played with them for a bit. She also said about ten words to our host who was just tickled by it since Sophia warmest look towards him has always been a scowl.

After the game was over and one of the toddlers went home, the rest of the younger kids were put into PJs and set loose. I don’t know how it started (probably by the two older kids) but they all started running laps around the inside of the house. One of the toddlers took a corner a little two sharp. That’s gonna be a huge welt on the forehead, but he literally shook it off and got back in the race. Round and round they went, then the kids started to change directions. You know this is going to end badly. Sophia seemed to take the longest to realize the traffic flow had changed, either that or she just likes swimming upstream. Round and round they went some more.

It was the two eldest kids that collided. The boy received a tooth to the forehead and the girl partly tore the bit of skin that is attached from the upper lip to the gums. The girl seemed to be in more pain. She was sitting on the counter having her mouth inspected by her personal nurse. Sophia offered a hug. The host, the one Sophia typically only scowls at, lifted her up so she could give her hug. My child has empathy. If she didn’t look exactly like us (mostly me) I’d be taking her right back to the hospital and demanding they give me my real child. This just isn’t possible. It’s like a genetic anomaly that between Kurt and I, we have a child with empathy. It must be a phase.

While the older kids were having their injuries inspected Sophia and the older girl’s toddler sister each grabbed one of Kurt’s hands and forced him to run laps with them. No joke. He didn’t actually run, I mean the man is 6’4”, but apparently the girls wanted someone to boss around and Kurt fit the bill.

As we were all leaving, Sophia and her sidekick gave each other a hug. I think these two may become best friends. Over the summer at one of the parties from the same hosts, these two even kissed…on the lips.

Many encourage bans on ‘bad’ words attempting to render all language inoffensive. It’s not possible. Other terms will convey the same meaning soon becoming offensive. Use of “Joe Six Pack” during the vice presidential debate offends me, what about my rights? Blue vans collecting donations read, “Northwest Center for the Retarded”. Should they change too?

Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man. You may also visit Flash Fiction Friday 55’s, a blog dedicated to hosting 55 Flash Fiction Friday posts.

This weekend since we had a birthday party to go to on Sunday, we (Kurt) spent Saturday doing little projects around the house that he hadn’t completed when we moved in six years ago. Shut UP. When we moved in Kurt put in hardwood floors and sealed most of the nail holes with putty, but not all.

This nail putty is nail polish remover with wood chips in it. Just pick a can the coordinates with the color wood and when the polish remover evaporates, presto, little wood plug.

I went around the house doing laundry and collecting trash from our many little trash cans. Sophia occupied herself in her room for once, but after about twenty minutes, she became bored and wanted to play with daddy. At this point Kurt was working on the steps leading to the top floor, so much like a cat would while you read a paper or book, Sophia laid right in the way.

Kurt was filling the holes on the bottom step and Sophia laid across the step above with one arm and one leg dangling in the way. His routine was adjusted accordingly to, move toddler arm, putty, putty, move toddler leg, putty, putty, move toddler to next step up.

Last night Sophia was laying across the steps again. Kurt told me about telling this story to a coworker then asked Sophia, “Do you remember helping daddy finish the stairs?”

“YES!”

“Did you get your first contact high?”

“YES!”

After work Kurt’s job is to entertain the child while I fix dinner. If she’s too rowdy to sit on his lap and watch the news they start roughhousing and he’ll swing her by the arms and toss her on the couch…repeatedly. If I happen to be upstairs at the time, Kurt arrives from work it becomes our bed instead of the couch.

Instead of swinging her by the arms it more of a pillow softball game, Sophia will stand up on the bed giggling uncontrollably and Kurt will swing a pillow at her. He doesn’t swing nor hit her with enough force to actually knock her down, but she purposely falls upon impact. This game could go on forever.

Last week Kurt and Sophia played this game. On one occasion after knocking the toddler down, Kurt put the pillow down at the head of the bed. Sophia got up from her fall, saw that Kurt didn’t have his ammo, retrieved a pillow, and handed it to him to continue the game. Kurt laughed and obligingly hit her with the pillow, then set it down to come tell me about it.

As Kurt tells me the story we hear the most pathetic little cry, “daddy”. She sounded like she was either in tears or near tears. Kurt ran up the stairs to see her leaning off the edge of the bed, holding a pillow.