Friday, 11 May 2012

  • Taste of being a SAHM for two days; AKA I can't believe my kid's not dead yet.

    Soooo... Avery has been home sick for the last two days. Thank god it wasn't three because I don't think she would have survived another day with me.

    Day 1:  I was trying to bring out Avery's tricycle through the front door. she's obsessed with it and was trying to get me to put it down so she can ride it, when all of a sudden while I was turning, one of the wheels smacked her in the nose. Obviously she cried for a while, and I hugged her and held her to try and calm her. Finally when she stopped, I put her down and realized that her nose was bleeding! I screamed and freaked and wiped it away with a tissue and Q tip. I was pretty bad and I felt TERRIBLE because it was the first time that Avery drew blood, EVER. I'm assuming that it looked worse than it was because after she stopped crying she didn't act as if she was in pain in any way, even though blood was smeared all over her nose and cheeks. UGH.

    Day 2: So, I finally ordered an umbrella stroller for Avery for our family trip this summer and I saw it on our front doorstep. I was returning from a trip to Babies R Us so I had Avery in one arm and a huge bag of goodies in the other arm, which included a Melissa and Doug wooden puzzle and some art supplies for finger painting. I opened the door and placed the shopping bag in the house, and then put Avery down. Then I brought in the umbrella stroller, which came in a long, rectangular box. I placed the box upright and leaned it against the wall in the house (I KNOW! DUMB!). You're never going to believe what happened next.

    Avery was standing over the bag of toys trying to get her hands on some of the goodies. Then, the boxed stroller decided to fall over. It hit Avery in the back of the head, and she fell forward head first into the bag. She busted her lip on something, probably the finger paints, and her forehead landed right on the edge of the wooden puzzle. TRIPLE UGHHHH! I almost cried because I felt so bad. She had blood coming out of her mouth and I was terrified that I knocked out a tooth or something, but it was just a cut on her upper lip. Her forehead however is a different story. she now has a perfect red line across her forehead from the edge of the puzzle. I have a feeling it's going to bruise, and her day care teachers probably think I abuse my poor child, sending her back to school with a busted lip and a bruise on her forehead. The stroller was also really heavy, about 22 pounds (even though the stroller is only supposed to be 11, for some reason the box claims to be 22 pounds) and it really must have hurt landing on her head like that.

    I am seriously the worst mother ever!

    What makes it worse is that nobody seems to know what is wrong with her and why she has a fever. She has no other symptoms, her throat is fine and her ears are fine, but just has this strange fever. As long as I give her advil and tylenol, she acts perfectly fine. So this morning, I doped her up on medicine and sent her back to school. (hey, I had a doctors note saying I can take her back the day before, but I decided to keep her home one more day). Honestly, I don't know how SAHMs do it. What do you do keep your kid busy all day long? I read every book I had to her multiple times, took her outside three times, colored with her, did everything I can possibly think of to keep her busy, but found myself constantly falling back on TV after realizing that like, only a half hour has passed by or something ridiculous like that. Normally, she rarely gets any TV at all (only 30 minutes on Saturdays and Sundays) but these past two days she got sooooo much TV. I felt like I was rotting her brain! At least in daycare, she is constantly engaged, is learning things, and has friends that she can play with.

    I've always wanted to be a SAHM because I felt that the baby's first year should be with the mom, and I hated the idea of having to hire a nanny who will most likely do it wrong, but you have no choice but to rely on them to raise your baby. But at 16 months, I'm not sure I have it in me to properly engage my child and teach them the things that they need to know. I'm sure it's because I didn't have to until now (even our weekends are usually packed with us traveling to see family or attending a birthday of some kind), and I'm sure that if I was a SAHM things would be different and I would know what to do. In some ways though, because I work, I feel as if I don't know how to properly take care of my child, and that kind of makes me sad. I almost felt like I was babysitting and didn't really know what to do with her.

    These last couple of days was really hard on me. It didn't help that I got NO work done at all and I have a business trip coming up which requires me to travel on Sunday (yes, mother's day) through Tuesday, which I'm totally unprepared for since I lost two days of work, AND it doesn't help that I'm pregnant, SUPER tired, super hormonal, and just overall have NO energy at all (yes! I'm pregnant! another baby! I must be crazy right?!). It kind of gave me a taste of what it would have been like if I didn't work and was a SAHM, I don't know if I'd be able to do it. Seriously, moms.... Kudos to you for being able to stay home to take care of your kids. Honestly, I'd love to hear about a typical day from the moms who stay home, if you're willing to share.

Thursday, 26 April 2012

  • Would you want to know?

    Most of you may know that my dad was sick for many years, over the course of more than 20, before finally passing away last year. He started out with Colon cancer at the age of 35, then Whipple cancer, then stage FOUR cancer in his neck and throat that required heavy duty chemo and radiation, then colon cancer again. During his third major surgery, the doctor noted a small ulcer on his stomach, but he chose to leave it alone because the priority at the time was to remove most of his colon, to prevent any future cancers from forming. A couple of years later during a routine scan, they noticed another growth on his stomach. They didn't know what it was, so they waited, and waited... and did more rounds of chemo because they thought it was cancer, but the growth didn't go away. Finally because my dad's pain was so severe, they had no choice to open him back up. It turned out that the ulcer that the doctor chose to leave alone during his last surgery, had eaten away most of his stomach and part of his other organs. He was in the hospital for months, unable to eat anything and sustaining solely on IV and pain medication (they couldn't even get a feeding tube in him... and they tried twice), before his final surgery to attempt to fix the damage. He never recovered and finally passed away.

    Back several years ago, way before his throat cancer, my dad had a golf ball sized growth on the side of his neck. I begged him to get it removed since he was such high risk for cancer, but his primary care physician assured him that it was a benign cyst, and nothing to worry about. It ended up getting so big that it became bothersome, so he finally had it surgically removed. They tested the cyst, and it turned out that it WAS cancer, a very rare form of cancer, that is usually found on people with a gene anomaly. He immediately got a test done to check for this gene anomaly, and the test turned out positive.

    I don't know much about it, but apparently, those with this gene anomaly are at a much higher risk for cancer of the digestive system, particularly stomach, intestine, or colon cancer at a particularly young age. It's also hereditary and there is a 50% chance that offspring will also have this gene anomaly. I only know because my dad's doctor called me shortly after my dad's death, and asked my brother and I to come in for a test. I ran it by my brother but of course he was terrified and reluctant. My mom however forbid us to take the test. She said it's better not to know, and that she wouldn't be able to handle the results. She also told us that the only reason this doctor wanted us to test at all is for his research, rather than because he cared about our well being (the hospital he works at is a university research hospital). I on the other hand felt that it was better TO know. It wouldn't prevent the cancers of course, but if I turned out positive, I would have to get a screening every two years, where there is a better chance of catching anything very early on.

    Anyway, this all happened around a year ago. We never got around to taking the test and although it would be on my mind sometimes, I never really brought it up to my brother again. Then a few weeks ago, I was at an OBGYN appointment. Since I recently moved back to NJ, this was my first time seeing her. She asked me stuff about my medical history, and when I mentioned my dad's medical history of colon cancer, she strongly advised that I be tested for Lynch Syndrome. A quick internet search told me that Lynch syndrome is a genetic condition that predisposes people to colon cancer and other cancers as well. While most people have about a six percent chance of developing colon cancer at some point in their lives, people with Lynch syndrome have about an 80 percent chance. Women with Lynch syndrome also have about a 10 percent chance of developing ovarian cancer and a 50 percent chance of developing uterine cancer (which is why my obgyn is the one mentioning the test). Lynch syndrome is caused by mutations in specific genes, so I'm pretty sure that this is the same test that my dad's doctor wanted me to take, and most likely the cause for so many of my dad's illnesses. My doctor told me that she will set me up for a test on my next visit, and sent me on my way.

    I didn't think anything of it at the time, and just thought, hey I guess it's better to know. but I just saw on my calendar today that my appointment is coming up! I had a mini meltdown and wondered if I wanted to take the test at all. I knew that if I took it on my own, my brother will NEVER go on his own because he's just like my mom - it's better not to know. I wondered if I should tell my mom I was going to take the test? What would I do if I was positive? I'm approaching 34 years old, (Holy cow, I just realized I AM 34 years old!) which is only a year from when my dad started getting sick. I couldn't help but wonder if I was fated to go through the same things my dad did.

    If you had the choice to know whether or not you had a higher percentage of dying early or inheriting a severe illness, would you take it? There's no guarantee that you will get the illness of course, and you will only know that you "may" get sick. Is it better not to know at all, or would you want to know? For something like this, "being healthy" and "eating right" really doesn't have much to do with it. My dad was pretty healthy, constantly worked out, and there was no sport he couldn't master. He got sick because of a genetic disorder that was passed down to him, and in that sense, he was just unlucky. But would anything have changed if he knew at age 35 that he had Lynch Syndrome?

Thursday, 12 April 2012

  • Random Pregancy Flashback

    Way back when I was about 7 months pregnant with Avery, I started having crazy abdominal pains. It came out of nowhere, sudden and sharp, and sometimes it made me double over in pain. It was low in my stomach, towards the back near my butt area. It would come and go though, so I didn't think much about it.  But then one night while I was sleeping the pain was so intense I woke up Winsor because I was worried something was happening to the baby.

    I called the doctor and she asked me to come in for a sonogram to make sure the baby was ok. I was really nervous because I had no idea what could cause this stomach pain, so naturally I was scared. The sonogram technician didn't help because her expression was deadpan and she barely spoke while she was checking on the baby. Once, she pressed an area of my lower stomach and I yelped out in pain. She then told me she was going to show the pictures to the doctor, and would be right back.

    I waited in the room by myself for about 10 minutes, freaking out and thinking the worst of the worst. Finally a male doctor came in the room with a folder holding the pictures that the technician took.

    Male Doctor: Well, it doesn't look like anything is wrong with the baby.

    Me: Oh good! Then what was the issue?

    Male Doctor: Well, the pain was low and towards the back?

    Me: yes... and it was really bad for a while.

    Male Doctor: The pain didn't really have anything to do with your uterus or the baby....

    Me: Oh? What does that mean? Then what would cause that much pain?

    Male Doctor: Well, its... air.. or... *cough* gas...

    GAS? My eyes widened in horror and embarrassment as I stared at him. He stared right back at me. His upper lip twitched twice, but other than that kept a straight face as he told me that the cause of my pain was because I needed to FART.

    Male Doctor: You could try going for a wal---

    Me: Thank you doctor.

     

    What made this even more mortifying was that it was a male doctor. A male doctor had to tell me to go for a walk to relieve my pent up gas. He was probably cracking up in the locker room telling all the boys about it. Oh, what did you do today? Open heart surgery. Oh cool, I did brain surgery. What about you? I told a pregnant lady to get her lazy ass off the the couch and move around a little so that can fart and stop having abdominal pains. BAHAHAHAHA!

    Mortifying.

Tuesday, 06 March 2012

  • Would Humanity Exist in a Zombie Apocalypse?

    After catching up on Walking Dead, Winsor and I had a pretty big discussion on the outcome of the last episode.

    **Spoiler Alert! Don't read if you haven't watched yet!**

    A couple of episodes ago, the group butt heads with another human party, and barely escaped. One guy, who was shooting at them, tried to jump off the roof of a building and got his leg caught in a gate. It didn't look as though he'd make it, so his friends left him behind. Instead of leaving him as well, Rick, Glenn, and Hershel decide to free the boy and take him with them, only to bandage him up and let him go in the middle of nowhere to die. When that didn't work out, they brought him back to the farm and tortured him for information about his group. The prisoner's group consisted mostly of men who are known to pillage and rape, and it was obvious that him and his gang were a threat, so it was decided that they were going to execute him to prevent him from escaping and bringing his gang back to the farm.

    During the episode, Dale, the old man who has been the voice of reason on the show, tries to convince everyone that killing this man was not the answer. In the end they do decide to go through with the execution, but Rick backs out last minute because his son showed up and wanted to watch.

    I was annoyed because I felt they wasted two episodes on this when I felt they should have just left the guy for dead to begin with. He was an enemy and he was badly injured. So why save him, only to dump him again to be eaten by zombies anyway? Dale's argument for saving the boys life was that if you choose to execute him, you should be present during the execution, instead of pretending it never happened. How is that different from dropping him off in the middle of nowhere and pretending he'll make it on his own? I think that is the same as execution. I would rather be shot in the head, than to be left alone to fend for myself with no weapons or shelter.

    Winsor felt that the group would not be able to survive with such a small number, and an addition to the group who is a man would have brought value. Because his friends left him behind, there was no reason for him to want to go back to them. He was in a much better situation at the farm with Rick and his group, and the only reason he was with that group in the first place is because he was trying to survive. He felt that the group has become "us vs them" in every aspect, and that it was just spiraling out of control.

    While I do agree with everything he said, I think that it went way too far to save the situation. They tortured him, talked about killing him within his earshot, and treated him terribly from the start. At this point, he was never going to trust them, and they were never going to trust him. So based on what has happened in the episode, there was nothing left to do but kill him. When Dale was trying to save him, I found myself getting annoyed because honestly, I felt that at that point there was just no other option! Winsor agreed, but did feel that they didn't have the right to execute a human being in a world where human life is so rare and precious.

    At the end of the episode, Dale is killed by a Zombie (which also annoyed me, because it was the fault of Rick's son aka little shit), and it marked the death of the only conscience the group had. What will happen now when there is nobody to remind them how to be civilized? Dale bugged me back when he was going a little too far to prevent Andrea from committing suicide, and then by hiding the group's guns from Shane and endangering everyone else's lives in the process. But now that he's gone, I'm really sad about it because sometimes you need that guy nagging you all the time about doing the right thing. Especially for someone like me, who was shouting at the screen to freaking kill the guy and be done with it already. Despite everything, Dale was a good person and didn't deserve to die that way.

    I think I detach myself from TV shows and forget what it could be like in real life. Walking dead isn't real, so it's obvious to go the easy route and murder a young man to save the rest of the group because it's the logical thing to do. I wonder what I would feel if I were actually living it? Would I detach myself from the situation and prevent myself from feeling anything? I've always thought that I would be capable of killing someone if I had to, in self defense, or if the person was truly evil and deserved to die. Anyone can argue though, who am I to say who deserves to live or die? I guess that was the point of the episode.

    What would you do if you were in a zombie apocalypse, and you had to make a decision to kill another human being to protect the rest of the group and the only shelter you had?

Saturday, 03 March 2012

  • Bad Luck

    It's pretty well known that I have the worst luck in the world. The worst! But this week takes the prize, I think. A few days ago I received a ticket in the mail for a moving violation. Apparently I ran a red light and there it was, in color, three pictures of my car passing a red light. Now, I never run red lights. Why would I? I even get mad at Winsor whenever he runs reds and I drive like your grandmother. I remembered that day, too. I had gone to Micheal's during my lunch break to pick up a few things. I wasn't in any hurry or anything so there would be no reason for me to intentionally run a red. I must have passed through a yellow that turned red before I made it past the intersection. annoying! 140 dollars down the drain just like that. And who gets tickets in the MAIL? Only me of course.

    But then today, on my way home from dinner with friends, I was driving not 2 minutes when I got pulled over. I was shocked because I wasn't speeding, I had my seat belt on, and I wasn't doing anything wrong. It turned out that one of my headlights were out, and I was asked for my license and registration by some cop playing tough guy. I was actually driving my mom's car that night and I turned the car inside out trying to find the paperwork but it was nowhere to be found. I was forced to call her (it was getting close to midnight) to ask her where she might have placed it. And guess what? The license and registration was in her wallet!

    I tried to explain that to the cop but he wasn't having it. Winsor even texted me a picture of the insurance card but the cop gave me the worst attitude and claimed it wasn't "proof" that I was covered and refused to even look at the picture!! Then he threatened to have my car impounded.

    Then he did this whole show of "having a change of heart". He told me to sit tight while he goes back to his car to "see what he can do for me". I waited for over 15 minutes and the cop finally came back holding not one, not two, but THREE tickets, for headlight, registration, and insurance. I also have a mandatory court date, in which he said he MAY be able to help dismiss a couple of the tickets if I show up with my insurance card and a receipt proving I fixed the headlight. Then he said he was doing me a huge favor by not towing my car.

    I think Bergen cops are the absolute worst and meanest dickwads on the face of this earth. I don't care if your mother is a Bergen cop, I hate her too. I'm just so upset because he really didn't have to do what he did. He could have looked at the picture of the insurance card and let me off the hook. You want to be a dick and give me a ticket for the light? I can live with that. But three tickets? F YOU! What made it worse was that he totally asserted his authority on me to make me feel he had the power to take away my car and leave me stranded in the middle of the night. I know that he technically DID have the authority, but really was that necessary?

    I am probably the only person in the world that something like this would happen to. I wondered how I lasted so long without being pulled over and then I realized - I've been living in Astoria and probably haven't been driving regularly for years! Geez, and I've only been in NJ for a few months. I wonder what will happen to me next? FML.

Tuesday, 21 February 2012

  • The picture

    Everyone has been asking me to post a picture of my brow and liner tattoos. I had a few pics that I took right after with my phone but then lost my phone, and therefore lost the pictures. Since then I've been too lazy to take another one and transfer to the computer to post. But then a friend asked me for Sophia's info and begged for a pic, so I snapped one quickly and texted it over to her. So now I'm testing out this Xanga app for real (loving the app BTW!!!!) and using it to post a pic from my phone. Here's a shot of my tattoos! I'm not wearing any makeup at all so please excuse my sallow face and the dark circles under my eyes. Unfortunately there's no tattoo that will help my complexion. Hahaha

Tuesday, 07 February 2012

  • Cosmetic Tattoos - The Gateway Drug to Plastic Surgery?

    In November I finally left my job and started working at a new company. The job itself? meh. I'm still in the same industry...but the one great thing is that I get to work from home. FULL TIME. My company is located in Dubai and Egypt, and I'm pretty much the only one in the states. So my office is my dining room table. I love working from home and I don't think I can ever give this up, ever. But now that I don't have to go into the office, I no longer wear makeup, my hair is always in a bun, and I basically look like a hobo every day. The teachers at Avery's daycare were shocked the one day I had to go somewhere that evening and picked Avery up wearing makeup and something other than sweats.

    Anyway, one day my best friend called me and asked me if I wanted to get eyeliner tattoo with her. Uh, YES! I always wanted to get it done but was too scared to go to someone I didn't know. But Jess met up with a friend who recently got it done and said it looked awesome. We immediately called to make an appointment the next day.

    When we got there, we found that the person rents a tiny room in the basement of a hair salon in Palisades Park. It looked a little scary and dark as we slowly walked down the rickity steps. Our eyes must have been 100 times it's size while we stared at each other thinking "what the HELL are we doing here? Should be turn back now?" But when we got into the room, it was a nice, tiny room that was well lit. I found that the artist, Sophia, specializes in all semi-permanent cosmetic tattoos - Eyebrow, eyeliner, lip color that last only a couple of years, and she even does lash extensions. She had moved to the US from Korea two years ago to start her operations here. She had years of experience doing tattoos in Korea before she came to the states. I always, ALWAYS wanted eyebrow tattoos done also (drawing my brows in every day is the bane of my existence) so I decided that if I loved the eyeliner, I would come back for the eyebrow.

    Well, a couple of eyebrow and eyeliner tattoo sessions later, I have to admit that this was the. best. money. I. ever. spent. EVER! It was worth every single penny and I would do again in a heartbeat. You have no idea what it's like to rub my eyes and brows and find that it's still there! I no longer have to fear the rain, or the pools. I literally just wash my face and go. It's the greatest. The best part is that although I wouldn't say I'm no longer a hobo, I'm very much less of a hobo than before. 

    Since I've gotten my brows done, five of my friends have gone to her to get either eyeliner or eyebrow tattoo, and all swear it's the best money they've ever spent. I've sent so much business to her that she now knows me by name and greets me like a friend. I also found out that ALL the young moms in our church have gotten it done too, and all from Sophia. I never knew because it looked so natural and was shocked that getting cosmetic tattoos was such a common thing.

    A couple of days ago, when I went back for eyebrow touch ups, She told me about eyelash extensions and lip color. If you know me, you will know that I have the whitest lips on the planet. Lipstick never lasts long enough, and lip stains dry out my constantly chapped lips. She showed me her own lips, and I couldn't even tell it was done - it just had a really natural, very light pink tint.

    So then I got to thinking. I already did my eyebrows and eyeliner; how great would it be to have nice pink lips? But why stop there? If I got eyelash extensions, I would never have to wear mascara! I wonder if she does blush too? JK about that last one.

    I seriously considered getting my lips done too. But then I realized, when does it become too much? Semi permanent tattoos only last a year or two at most, so for me, there's not that much of a risk. But once I get my lips done, would I want to get something else done? Botox? Lipo? Nose? Eyes?

    I've always joked that when I'm done having all my kids, I'm totally getting some serious nip and tuckage, and I joke to Winsor all the time that I need to start my tummy tuck and boob job fund now to treat myself on my 40th birthday. He just rolls his eyes and says "whatever". He doesn't believe that I'd actually go through with it. To tell you the truth, I never thought I would - I don't have the money and it's definitely not practical. But lets say we won the lottery and I have money and time to spare. What's to stop me then?

    I always think that everything is fine in moderation, as long as you don't go too crazy, but it's hard to stop yourself once you get started. In the end, I decided that I could live with pale lips for now, and at 150 dollars a session for eyelash extensions that only last a couple of months, I decided that I can spare a few minutes to slab on some mascara before I run out. I was happy with my brow and liner, and I didn't want to jinx it.

    Though I do have to say, after watching Madonna's half time show this past Sunday, I couldn't help thinking that I wanted the number for her plastic surgeon. Damn she looked good!

    Have you gotten any cosmetic procedures done, whether it's tattoo or surgery? Do you regret it? How do you feel about cosmetic surgery?

Friday, 20 January 2012

  • Avery's First Birthday

    Avery's first birthday party is finally over with. I was stressing out about it, but no more planning or baking, and life is good again. We held it at Daedong manor in Flushing. I actually felt super uncomfortable the whole day because I couldn't deny that the decorations were a little over the top (the venue does it this way) and I was worried that friends without babies would die of boredom. If we had a house we would have done a house party, but we can barely fit even our family in my mom's 2 bedroom townhouse. We've visited so many restaurants but all were priced higher than Daedong and didn't even include anything but food, not even alcohol! We've exhausted our options and in the end decided that Daedong was probably the best option. Since Avery was our firstborn, we felt that we had to have some kind of party, and it somehow ended up being a big one. I'm definitely NOT doing this again for any future babies. Sorry future son or daughter, you aint getting squat!

    Below is the slideshow that Winsor made for Avery's birthday party. I think it came out pretty great considering he made it the night before? I have to admit that I teared a bit watching this the first time. But I couldn't help thinking - Damn, she was one ugly baby!

     


    With my sister in law and brother.


    Winsor held her from behind and ducked under the table.


    Avery totally went for the money, but becasue everyone was screaming it scared her and made her cry. She refused to choose after that, and in the end the only thing she would accept was the microphone.


    I loveeeed Avery's hanbok - a family friend went to korea and she had ordered a regular hanbok for Avery.  Afterwards, she visited a cousin who gave us this gorgeous hanbok that she used for her own daughter who had long outgrown it. So we ended up with two! We decided to take studio pictures of her wearing both, but used the hand-me-down Hanbok for her party.


    Avery's first exposure to bubbles. Since then I've bought bubbles for her and she's obsessed. I even got her to eat an entire bowl of food by blowing bubbles for her after each bite.


    For entertainment, we chose MonkeyMonkey Music. I considered going with a magic or balloon show because I didn't have that many friends with babies, and I wanted adults to enjoy the show too. But the artists I spoke to said that they couldn't guarantee entertainment to kids under three, and I wanted Avery to be entertained more than anything, so I went with music. they were very good and included parachutes and bubbles, which Avery loved.


    I'm obsessed with Calen's cuteness (the girl in the tutu). She screamed like a banshee every time the parachute came down on her.


    Avery ducking under the parachute


    A very rare picture. Avery ususally doesn't allow uncle jason to hold her, But for some reason she went to him!

    Happy first birthday Avery! 

     

Wednesday, 18 January 2012

  • Feeding Avery.

    Avery is at the age where she is too old for purees and store bought baby food, but a little too young for normal toddler food. Now that she's officially off formula, I spend most of my waking hours thinking about what I would feed Avery. I've never shopped for food or cooked so much in my entire life! Half of what I make usually gets tossed in the trash or eaten by me, and it's so frustrating because I can sense that she is becoming pickier and pickier with food. If she doesn't like the taste of something, I have no problem with her not eating it, and she used to try anything once. But lately, she has been rejecting food just by the way it looks, and my patience is starting to wear thin.

    I used to make chunky purees in bulk and freeze, but I'm trying to get away from the purees and start to feed her more "adult" foods. I've made her rice and chicken jook which she loves, but you can't feed her jook every day. I've had success with Mac and Cheese, would get super excited and make it in bulk, but then the next day she will refuse to touch it. The first time I gave her strawberries, she cried because I couldn't give it to her fast enough. The next day? Meh. She prefers snacks over real foods, and she rarely eats a whole meal enthusiastically, unless it is cooked fresh.

    I've created a couple of shortcuts while trying to feed Avery.

    Freeze the sauces, not the food. I used to make a ton of  mac & cheese and then freeze it in individual portions. But Avery only likes mac & cheese if it's nice and gooey (I don't bake my mac & cheese - I make the cheese sauce then mix in the slightly overcooked pasta) and it doesn't keep as well because the cheese tends to dry out. She likes cheese ravioli, which I cut up into little pieces and serve with a bit of marinara. But she doesn't each much at one time, so I found myself throwing away a lot of the sauce and pasta.

    About a week ago, I dug out my 1-2 oz old baby food containers, and froze the marinara in small portions. I also made cheese sauce in bulk using butter, flour, milk and cheddar cheese, and froze that in small portions as well. I buy fresh ravioli, which I also portion out and freeze into 4 oz containers. So far, it has worked out really well. I can now defrost a mini serving of marinara at a time, and it takes just a few minutes to pull pasta out of the freezer and cook. I can be more creative with food when just the sauces are frozen, like roast eggplant and zucchini and drizzle or dip with marinara, cook macaroni and defrost a bit of cheese sauce for instant, fresh mac & cheese, or toast whole wheat bread and serve in finger sized strips with cheese or marinara for dipping. You can put cheese sauce and marinara on almost anything!

    Jook.

    A friend taught me how to make baby jook, and I also used to make a ton at once and freeze it in portions. The jook is awesome when I first make it, but the rice tends to bloat and it thickens over time. It's fairly fixable by mixing in some hot water to freshen it up, but that makes it hard for me to pack it for daycare because it's an extra step for the teachers (and with so many teachers, I don't really trust them). Also, I noticed that Avery didn't like it as much when it's been sitting in the fridge or has been frozen. Now that she's older I don't have to grind up the rice before cooking, so I basically just assemble all the parts, then whip up a quick batch to last a couple of days at a time. I first steam organic chicken breast and vegetables (carrots, broccoli, radish, squash, or whatever you're feeling at the time) and then grind it up together into small chunks in the baby cook. Don't add water because then it will become a puree! You will end up with what looks like chewed food that has been spit out. Yum. Divide chicken and veggie mix into small portions and freeze.

    When I want to make jook, I just simply take some rice from the rice cooker (we don't eat white rice, but it's a mixture of brown and other grains), and boil it in a 1/2 water and 1/2 organic chicken stock for a little while until the rice becomes soft. I use kirkland stock, and I only add water because of the sodium content so it's up to you if you want to use 100% chicken stock.Then take out a couple of chicken/veggie cubes from the freezer and drop it into the pot.  Season with pepper and garlic powder.  Instant jook!

    For freezing, I use the Beaba multiportion freezing tray. I let it freeze overnight, then I pop them out, move them to ziploc bags and label with masking tape.

    What do you feed your baby? Please share!

     

Wednesday, 04 January 2012

  • Things I never thought I'd do before having a baby.

    I never thought I'd become a morning person. Anyone who knows me knows that I am the laziest person in the world before 10am. All throughout high school, it would be Mission Impossible for my dad to wake me up. He would physically lift me up into a sitting position, yell at me to get up and leave the room, only to come back 15 minutes later to find that I've fallen asleep again in the same sitting position! When I went off to college he would call me every morning to make sure I was up - and of course half the time I wouldn't even remember answering the phone and would miss class anyway. Basically, I'm terrible about getting up. Now that I have a baby that loves to wake up at 5-6 am no matter how late I put her to bed, I've somehow become a morning person. I can't seem to sleep past 7, and I'm strangely alert. I think it's because I don't have a choice. No matter how tired or drunk I am, I have to get up at 6AM. Every. Single. Day. To make sure a tiny, living human being is fed, changed and happy. Not fun when you come home at 3 in the morning. It doesn't happen very often, but it does happen.  Winsor and I were considering doing it old school and partying it up for new years, until we came home super late after a friend's Christmas party and decided it just wasn't worth the pain we endured the next day.

    I never thought I'd pick someone else's nose. WITH MY BARE HANDS. And then be PROUD of the nugget I just dug out. If you know me you will know that I have a pretty weak stomach when it comes to things like phlem and other peoples boogers. Whenever I witnessed a mom picking their kid's nose and not think anything of it, I would get so grossed out. My sister in law would call herself the koh-dak-gee (Korean for "booger") police, chase after her kids, pin them down and dig for buried treasure while the boys squealed and squirmed to get away. Once successful, she'd show everyone her prize like it was a trophy. I love her, but that's just disgusting. After Avery was born, the first taste of booger addiction came when I used the Nose Frida to suck her snot out. It took me almost two days after purchasing it to use it, because the thought of it grossed me out. The filter just seemed so flimsy, you know? When I finally got the courage to try it because Avery was starting to sound like Darth Vader, something large came out of her nose. I want to believe that it was a booger, but it looked more like Jabba the Hut. I could not believe that something that big came out of something so small. From that point on I was addicted. Now that she's older her boogers are more solid, and there's rarely a need for the nose frida. But that makes it all the better to roll it between your thumb and forefinger into a ball before proudly displaying it to your husband. Can you believe the size of this thing? I'd say.  How the hell was she able to breathe? So gross, right? But I get it now, I do. Doesn't change anything for anyone else's boogers, though. Winsor is not allowed anywhere near me until his hands are sanitized if I catch him picking his nose. But if it's your kid, it really is a golden nugget and my favorite activity is digging for treasure.

    I never thought I'd pick off leftover food from my kid's clothes and EAT IT. I once saw my SIL notice food on my nephew's cheek, lean in, and then LICK IT OFF HIS CHEEK. Gross! But then the other day, I was feeding Avery Mac and cheese mixed with carrots and broccoli. A piece of carrot fell out of her mouth and landed on the collar of her shirt. I mindlessly picked it up and put it in my mouth! By the time I realized what I did, it was too late. The half chewed piece of carrot was already on its way down to my stomach. Avery is a bit of a picky eater and a lot of times I end up eating what she doesn't (seriously I never knew until now that mom = garbage disposal). I guess I wasn't really thinking and automatically just picked if off and popped it into my mouth. The crazy thing is, it didn't really bother me. I wasn't grossed out and barely gave it a second thought. Today, she handed me a warm, squishy piece of strawberry that she was holding in her hand for about 15 minutes. I didn't have anywhere to throw it out, so I just popped it in my mouth and ate it. Then I sucked on all her fingers to get the sticky juice off her hands. Yes, I'm that mom.

    Anyway, Happy New Year everyone! It's been so long since I posted... I've been meaning to write a recap post of 2011 because I wanted to jot down the things that happened this year. I'm so glad this year is over, and I can't wait to have an awesome 2012. But I have Avery's first birthday party coming up this weekend, and I am up to my neck in DIY. Tonight I'm going to try and bake sugar cookies AND flood them. Tomorrow, cake pops. Hopefully they will be pretty enough for guests. If not, I guess Winsor is going to be eating a lot of cookies and cake for the next few weeks. Luckily there's a bakery nearby in the case of an emergency.

    Avery got soooo big. Her 12 month check up was today, and she is over 29 inches, and 21 pounds. 50th percentile for height and weight, and 75th percentile for head. Goes to show she is true Korean with her massive noggin. She also has three teeth which came in at the same time. Her one front tooth is bigger than my tooth. I've never seen a tooth that big, what the heck? When she laughs she looks just like Tow Mater.

    She is a happy baby, is thriving in daycare, and loves.... DADDY. She always prefers daddy over me, and it breaks my heart because I'm the one that carried her for 9 months without drinking or eating sushi, and I'm the one that pumped her food out of my boob twice a day from my office bathroom, and yet she always wants daddy. It's ok. The few times she prefers me, it makes it worth it because it means more when it's only once in a while... right?

    Right????