I’ve always wanted to be one of those moms who make her own baby food, feeding her sweet munchkin only the finest, freshest, organic purees. I envisioned myself freezing perfectly measured cubes of food, so I’d never have to rely on jarred food at home. I imagined myself lovingly whizzing away at the food processor because only the best will do, right?
I made some of Aiden’s food. By the time he was ready for more than the basic purees, I’d whizz up some blueberries or spaghetti. Basically, I’d puree whatever the grown-ups had to eat. I never ventured into “real” baby food making, though.
So when Miss Savannah came along I really wanted to make it all, from her first bite forward. I tried to talk my husband into buying one of those expensive gadgets that steam and puree the food all in one, but he wasn’t convinced I’d use it. I told him my grand plans of making all sorts of baby food at one time, then freezing it all in individual cubes. I used words such as organic, fresh, and pure. He just wasn’t picking up what I was throwing down.
Maybe he knows me too well. Because he’s right…I probably wouldn’t have used those things.
Recently I was sent the book “Top 100 Baby Purees” by Annabel Karmel to review. I spent hours flipping through pages of colorful purees, trying to decide which recipes to make for Miss Savannah. I chose three and added the ingredients to my grocery list. The first one I chose to prepare was Tomato, Cauliflower, and Carrot with Basil, and I set to work chopping and dicing and steaming. Since Savannah’s dinner was a little more effort than I’m used to, I just prepared an easy dinner for the rest of us; spaghetti.
Well, before our noodles had even boiled I had already burned Savannah’s tomatoes and the cauliflower wasn’t steaming. In the blink of an eye I had boiling noodles threatening to bubble over their pot, tomatoes burning in butter, mushy carrots, and hard cauliflower….and hungry children.
I said, “FORGET THIS!” and just opened a jar of baby food. I was a failure at my first real baby food making adventure.
While feeding Savannah her not freshly homemade dinner that night, I glanced at my stove, covered in four different pots and pans, the smell of scorched tomatoes still in the air. I sighed and muttered under my breath, “I’ll just never be that mom”.
I couldn’t bring myself to even try the other two recipes I selected. (They were Pasta Risotto and Nectarine and Strawberry with Vanilla if you’re curious). It’s just so quick and easy to open a jar and be done, you know? Plus, she’s moving on to real food now so I can get away with just chopping up some of the real deal instead of steaming and pureeing.
I also received Annabel Karmel's newest book; “Top 100 Finger Foods”. This one is geared for older kids, and gives you recipes for things such as homemade chicken nuggets, fish sticks, sliders and more. I wanted to pick out a few recipes to try on Aiden. I really did. I even dog-eared a few pages.
But, man! It’s so much easier to just open that jar of peanut butter.
So, I pretty much suck at making baby food. But I must be doing something right because Aiden is a fruit and veggie eating machine! He even prefers salads to chicken nuggets and French fries. (See me justifying my lazy ways to you?). Sigh. I’m going to set aside my Mommy guilt this time and let myself off the puree hook.
What’s your experience with making baby food? Are you one of “those moms” who’s made it all from scratch? (If so, God bless you, woman!) Or do you take the easy way out, like me? (There’s no judgment here, girlfriend!)
Keeping it real: I was provided with a copy of both books mentioned above as part of the SV Moms Group Book Club. If you’re the type of mom who makes her own baby food I think you’d really find “Top 100 Baby Purees” worthwhile. It’s full of great photos and recipes and even includes tips on freezing! “Top 100 Finger Foods” is equally well laid out. Many of the recipes are family-friendly and you could easily double or triple the recipes to serve your whole clan. You'll find a ton of recipes and more on Annabel Karmel's website!
Spring has definitely sprung around here, and we're spending as much time as we can outdoors. We try to enjoy the high 70s before the 90s settle upon us. We've also started doing a little more structured learning with Aiden each day, so we're busy busy busy!! Here's what I've been up to elsewhere around the web.....
At Deep South Moms I'm talking about Open Season on Pythons in South Florida. Oh yea, the big ole snakes? WILD! And being hunted! In FLORIDA!
Over at Reviewsings I'm sharing Snuggle Up Pals, great plush books for babies and toddlers.
Other reviews:
1. My first review of my Frigidaire Dishwasher
2. H&R Block's Dollars and Sense program, and tips to teach teens about finances
Giveaways:
1. Protect-A-Bed Premium Mattress Protector (ends April 1)
2. Natural kid care goodies from Sprout Baby (foaming wash and alcohol-free hand sanitizer) (ends March 28)
My son has recently become a bit obsessed with three specific books. We have to read them every night at bedtime; not just one, but all three. They’re cute books…well, the one calls a chicken a cock so I say chicken because Lord help me I don’t need my three year old running around saying the word cock thankyouverymuch. Even though the books are cute they do get old on the umpteengazillionth reading, so I try to slip in a new book from time to time. So far this has only caused the bedtime book reading to increase in number, since he isn’t budging on his three favorites.
Tonight I added in an Easter book, since we’re pretty close to Easter and all. It’s a Christian book, and it talks about how Easter isn’t really about colored eggs and candy and bunnies….it’s about Jesus. I like that it doesn’t dismiss the traditions, just simply states that those things are well and good, just not what Easter is really about. But as I read the book to him tonight I found myself cringing. There were some things that I just don’t think he needs to hear right now. For example,
“God sent Jesus down to Earth to die for everyone”
“He had to die upon a tree”
“He was only dead three days and then he rose again”
“He wants to live inside you”
As a Christian, I agree with those statements.
As a mother, they freak me out a little bit.
I’m just not prepared to start talking to my preschooler about someone having to die for him. And I’m not prepared to explain why Jesus was only dead for three days but everyone else stays dead. I mean, what do I do if someone he knows dies and they don’t rise again in three days?! How do I explain that to him?
And telling him someone wants to live inside him? That’s a hard one for many adults to accept. I imagine it sounds a little Alien-ish to a preschooler.
Christianity isn’t the prettiest faith. Jesus did die a brutal death for us. There are some seriously difficult truths surrounding His death and resurrection. Truths that are often more than an adult mind can wrap itself around, never mind a preschooler’s.
I planned to introduce Bible study in elementary school, but I’m rethinking that plan. Maybe I’ll keep with the happy-fied Bible stories for a bit longer. I want my kids to feel happiness, joy, and love when they think about Jesus….not death, torture, and difficult theology. Maybe the hard stuff can wait?
When did you start teaching your kids the hard stuff about your faith?
Priorities are fluid. They evolve as we evolve, reflecting who we are at any given moment in our life.
There was a time when spending hours deep in the bowels of a University Library, hunting for the perfect academic article to complement my research, was a priority.
There was a time when spending hours each morning on Bible study was a priority.
There was a time when hitting the club at least twice a week was a priority.
What is important to us we find time for.
My priorities are shifting. I’m spending less time on certain things, while other things begin to occupy more and more of my day. Savannah is almost ten months old, which means she is actively mobile, insatiably curious, and very vocal. She is a hot mess ya’ll, and keeps me on my toes every second she is awake. Now that Aiden has resigned himself to the fact that she isn’t leaving anytime soon, he’s right there with her….egging her on, taking her toys, laughing and squealing and smiling. It’s awesome. Truly, it is. But they occupy all my energy and focus when they’re awake.
Since I can’t accomplish much of anything when they’re romping around together, I spend naptime doing the housework and various household things that tend to pile up in the course of a day. And collectively they only give me two naps a day now, so there goes any chance to spend some time decompressing and relaxing.
Then, the other day, it dawns on me that Aiden will be four this Fall. Which means we’ll be starting his Pre-K year. Which means I need to get on the ball with this homeschooling stuff. He’s eager. He’s ready. So we started today. Our lesson was all of maybe twenty minutes, but as most preschooler activities go, it took much longer than that to prepare, set up, and clean up. But it was fun. So fun, ya’ll. Aiden was beaming from ear to ear the entire time, and kept asking to do more school when we were finished. So this needs to be a priority right now. (And for the next sixteen or so years, realistically).
I’m struggling.
I’ve lost my me-time. I’ve lost my stolen moments to read a book, or hop online, or write. Every moment of my day is now devoted to house and family, and I’m struggling to adapt. Truth be told, I struggle with resentment. I want my me-time. I need my me-time.
But I just can’t be my priority right now.
Priorities are fluid. And mine are shifting like the ocean tide.
Change.
If there is no change there can be no progress.
If there is no change we are doomed to repeat the past, never learning, never growing.
Change is imperative.
It’s time for change. Spring has long been the season of rebirth, for obvious reasons. Everything old, dried up, withered away, and brown sprouts lush new life. The Earth erupts in a symphony of glorious color under a bright blue sky.
It’s Spring in my soul.
I’m shedding.
Shedding that which weighs me down. Shedding that which forces its way into my day, bringing negativity and draining my energy. Shedding that which keeps me from moving forward.
I’m turning my face towards the sun light.
As plants begin to dig their way out of the earth and slivers of greenery peek through brown soil, we wonder what beauty we have yet to behold.
Do you see me digging? My new growth peeks out of the rubble, hinting at what lies ahead.
Change.
I embrace it.
He was sooooooo cute.
I can’t really recall his face today, but he was a wigger, as we said back then (before it was determined to be an un-PC thing to say). I was sixteen and it was the days of Vanilla Ice. Thuggish white boys were my flavor of the week.
I didn’t know him. My best friend M and I hung out at a local pool hall, and I saw him there. I was recently single and M was determined to hook me up so I would move on from my baby daddy. She knew some guys who knew some guys who knew mister cute boy.
One of those guys needed a ride to cute boy’s house, and OHMIGOSH I just happened to have a car. The three of us piled in, me a jumble of nerves and excitement and OHMIGOD does my hair look okay?!
Cute boy was all, “Hey. What up.” when we walked in, and started talking to his friend about going to someone else’s house to pick something up. There was whispered talk among all the guys in the room, and eventually they asked me if I could give them a ride to so-and-so’s house so they could pick up whatever it was that was so important. They told me they were headed to a big fight, and they needed to get their homey.
“Uh, sure. That’s cool.” Giggle giggle swoon “But uhm yanno, I don’t want to, like, be at the actual fight, ok?” Giggle giggle swoon “So, like, I’ll take you as far as picking up your friend then I’m out.” Swoon.
Cute boy convinced me he should drive my car, because he needed to keep up with the guys in the other cars as they led the way. He knew the neighborhood better than me, so it only made sense. I hopped in the backseat behind him as he slid behind the wheel, my best friend M in the passenger seat.
I was a little nervous. I heard the guys talk about guns, and cute boy confirmed they were going to so-and-so’s house to pick up some guns. Then they would head over to the big fight, two towns over. So I just sat in the back seat and swooned, thinking I’d do this little favor and be on my way before the big fight went down.
We ended up in a line of cars three or four long. I didn’t recognize the neighborhood at all. The cars paused, and one by one they slowly made right hand turns, creeping down a side street. We followed, cute boy at the wheel. He turned the cars’ lights off. M and I asked him what was going on and he told us we may want to get down.
Huh?
Gunshots.
What the FUCK?!
M and I threw ourselves on to the floorboard, screaming at him to get the hell out of there. Our caravan raced away and headed out of the neighborhood, M and I still screaming at him to get the hell out of the car and how could he take us here and what the fuck, man.
He brought the car to a stop and M and I shoved him out the door. M hopped into the driver’s seat and hauled ass out of there. We were both shaking and crying and freaking out. We decided we better just go home and lay low. Who knew what the hell was going on. We made a quick stop at a payphone (this was long before the days of cell phones) to call 911 and report gunshots. Cute boy be damned, we were responsible citizens.
I don’t know what really happened that night. Apparently it was a gang thing. One gang split into two, and that’s what the gunshots were about. Who knows. This was before you could google things five seconds after they happened.
I’m not sure if the gang thing is true or not because really, our town was more redneck country boys than gangbangers. So were these real thugs? Or just white boys acting out Boyz n The Hood? I don’t know. But the guns were real. The bullets whizzing past my car were real. This pasty little white girl’s fear was for damn sure real.
Damn cute boys.
It’s amazing to me, the money people spend. Maybe I’m just more mindful of where my pennies go, but I can’t imagine being reckless with our finances. I skim articles in popular women’s magazines, with catchy titles such as, “How to Save $5,000 in 37 Days!” and inevitably I learn nothing. There are no further cuts we could possibly make, with the exception of my monthly Starbucks run. But heaven help the person who tries to mess with my monthly caramel macchiato.
Sometimes I wonder if we just make less money than other families. I look at the Smart Phones people use and the cars they drive and the gadgets they play with and the trips they take…and I don’t get it. We looked into Smart Phones. They seem very useful and fun. The phones themselves can be pretty cheap, but the service? Holy hell, my friend! It would be well over $100 a MONTH for two Smart Phones. No thank you. I’ll stick to my “vintage” flip phone for now.
We went car shopping this weekend and that was another big WTF trip. How the hell do single-income families afford two cars? And I mean nice cars…not the hoopty that costs $3000 on the side of the road. But two nice cars with low mileage and some sort of warranty?
Vacations too! I see people jetting off here and there….tweeting from airplanes and hotel rooms and conferences and theme parks. Granted, many of this is comped in the blogosphere (Ahem, I’m more than willing to sign up for my fair share of that)….but for the rest? I don’t get it. Airfare, hotel rooms, meals, trinkets, conference fees. Good gravy, my family must be poor, I think. Because I cannot comprehend having that kind of money to spend.
We save. A lot. We have a decent sized cushion should something come up. And we also save money towards our future bills. So in that regard, I think we’re different from many families. If our fridge dies tomorrow we can go buy another one, no worries. We also don’t use credit cards. At all. So again, in that regard we’re quite different from most families. Theoretically we could afford the Smart Phones and a second car and a fabulous vacay or two, but then we’d be going into debt, eating up our savings, and living paycheck to paycheck. And I’m just not willing to go there.
Are we mo’ po’ than we realize? Or is everyone else running around with money burning a hole in their pocket? Are we old-fashioned for saving our money?
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