CherylKatz.org

I haven’t had much time or energy for blogging lately, which is making me feel a little frustrated and sad.  There are things I just won’t remember if I don’t put them here.

Today was really a lovely day.  Sami charmed me by playing peek-a-boo over the back of my dining room chair, and then patting her hand on my chest and saying, matter-of-factly, “Mama!”  Then she’d go over and declare Ben, “Dad-dee,” in similar fashion.

We went to dinner at Kazumi, and Sami hung monkeylike from the back of a high chair containing an 11 month old girl.  (I held the seat so it wouldn’t topple - both kids were, sadly, loving this.)  She was playing the peekaboo game with the little girl, and tickling her toes, and pointing out body parts helpfully.  “Elbow” is one of her newest ones.  She even gave nose-noses and kisses.  I was quite impressed.

On the way home, she repeated over and over, “Embee, embee,” as if I could forget that her sippy was empty.  It would be filled at home.

Days like today it’s not hard to remember why I love Sami, and forget all the ways that toddlers are frustrating.

My last post was kind of an angsty cry, whereas this one is the honest truth - breastfeeding is over.  She still makes her “nursing” sign, but now when she does it it seems to mean, “cuddle me.”

I get a ton more random cuddles.  Sami will now sit through an entire book from front to back cover with me - she never did that before, always with Ben and other people.  I guess now that I’m more than just cuddly boobs, she can find the time.  She eats a ton more.  It seems like she sleeps better, though don’t talk to me about that right now….* And she is bonding with Ben a little bit more.  I’d be jealous, but she bonds with me just as much, and each of us differently.

My little girl is growing up.

I still feel weird.  This is the first week of my life with no nursing since the day Sami was born.  It’s just slightly shocking.  She doesn’t need me for anything she couldn’t also get from Ben at this point.  She uses her pacifier a little more heavily now and is more reluctant to leave it at home or in the car when we go to school, but I imagine this will pass, and she isn’t even 2 years old yet.  She’ll give up the binks eventually.

In terms of my adjustment, I’m a little sad.  Very proud.  I’ve lost a few extra pounds since the last time we nursed, I guess nursing forces my body to hang on to reserve weight just in case?  That’s the theory I’m going on.  And I’m shrinking from D cup, which is sad but to be expected.  Emotionally I’m in balance, so that’s the good part.  I’ve been a little touchy but nothing that won’t pass with a few more weeks.  I’m focusing on the massive lingerie shopping trip I’ll get to do when I’m sure my cup size has stabilized, and not on the fact that my baby doesn’t need the girls any more.

I was going to say “In other news…” but I can’t think of any other news that isn’t on another topic entirely.  So I’ll wrap up and post on another topic another time.

In sum - it’s done.

* For the first time in for EVER, despite being absolutely exhausted from the heat and all the climbing and playing, Sami would not go to sleep.  She cried and cried and cried and asked for Mommy, until finally I went back in there and lay down on the bed - with her in her crib.  As soon as I lay down, she did the same.  I lay there for who only knows how long, and then peeked over at her. She waved.  I put my head back down for a while.  Tried to get up, nope, not ready.  Finally I told her it’s time to sleep.  Call me if you need me.  Love you.  Here’s tuck-tuck and blanky.  THEN she lay down, curled up and not another peep out of her for the evening so far.  That was really fun.  Hope we can do it again sometime.

I haven’t discussed this much, but Sami’s nursing schedule has been steadily waning.  We’d been down to two times a day for a month or two, but lately I decided that I’d rather get her full on something that will hold her until snack time at school; after nursing she’s too full to eat breakfast, but gets hungry way before snack time.

So before her morning nursing, I’ve been telling her we need to eat our breakfast first.  This has been successful, and in the last week she even gets so distracted with washing the oatmeal off her hands and chest and then getting on with preparing to go to school, she forgets about nursing altogether.  So effectively for the last week we’ve been once every day, about half way between dinner and bedtime, but always after dinner.  Basically any time she asks to nurse at this point, I counter offer a snack of fruit or cheese, and most of the time she takes it.  The evening is the only time she doesn’t accept my terms.

On Friday she didn’t nurse at all, the first day in her entire life that she didn’t.  Until we got home from shopping and Sami finished her dinner yesterday, I was convinced that perhaps she had just decided to be done.  Nope, after that she politely requested to nurse, and was fully determined, so of course I complied.

I don’t know how to describe this.  It’s not entirely child-directed, because I am suggesting to her that she eat her food first.  But it’s not entirely parent-directed because she certainly would voice objection to my suggestions if she had them.  She’s not a shy child in that regard.  I didn’t expect this to ramp down so rapidly, but I think Sami might be nearly ready.

Now I don’t know if *I* am ready.  Let’s examine the complicated emotional struggle:  On one hand I look forward to a day when Sami isn’t physically dependent on me to any greater extent than she is on Ben.  (There are always behavioural differences, I just mean in terms of what either of us can literally give her.)  On the other hand, because I have this physical advantage over Ben, biologically, I also have a special closeness with Sami and a totally special way of relating to her.  When we don’t nurse any more, sure I’d be able to go on solo trips if necessary and know that she won’t be missing anything at home with Ben, but will my relationship with her change?  Will she someday like cuddling as much as she likes nursing?  Is that how we’ll stay close while she’s still small?

I never realized how complicated my feelings would be about weaning.  I am at peace with the idea of nursing, since nutritionally breast milk is a supplement, not a necessity at this point.  I’ve passed on all the antibodies I probably will, and she is almost 2.  I’m completely comfortable with the length of nursing I’ve given her.  I know she’s got to stop eventually.

Except for Friday, she’s nursed every day, at least once, since the day she was born.  I guess 21 months isn’t that long, but it practically feels like my entire life, too.  It’s just a huge phase of motherhood coming to an end, and it’ll take me some time to adjust.

Some readers may laugh when I write this, but here goes:  I am simply not the girliest girl there is.  Not by a long shot.  Sure, I love me some cute dresses and shoes, but on a normal day you find me in jeans and a t-shirt, flip flops and probably just a smear of lip balm.

Imagine my surprise when I find my 21-month old daughter raiding my shoe rack.  She pulls out a pair of high heeled pumps and puts them on.  She picks up the purse her Grandma brought her (small bag for me = standard size shoulder bag for Sami) and slings it over her shoulder.  Then she walks - no, struts - down the hall to examine her ensemble in the full length bathroom mirror.

Ladies and gentlemen, I do not primp excessively in front of my child.  This is her inherent personality expressing itself.  As a mom, it is slightly terrifying.

So here is another slightly terrifying idea (and yet, so funny that I am sharing the link.)  When is too young to start your baby girl in heels?  Some would argue between birth and six months of age.  I can’t begin to tell you why this is terrifying.

Okay, I can begin to tell you.  First: Sami showed a propensity for admiring shoes well before 6 months.  Now she’s not even 2 and is showing an intense interest in heels.  So by providing my 0-6 month old infant with high heels, I’m showing her that high heels are normal and accepted shoes for little girls.  And I know that playing dress up is one thing.  That is going to happen.  But high heeled shoes of her own before she could even walk?  That might have happened over my dead body.

My saving grace at the moment is that Sami knows that heels are shoes for Momma. So they’re part of her imitation ritual.  Imitation and dress up are important activities and I think they’re OK.  She also seems to understand that when Sami needs shoes, HER shoes are the ones she should grab.  And she does.  I am not sure how I’ll handle it the first time Sami throws a fit because she really wants to wear my shoes.

I just hope that I have a long, long time to prepare for it.  Like maybe when she’s a teenager.

Nope, it’s not that some people are just insensitive, self-centered  or mean.  If you have difficulty relating to other people’s problems, you might have empathy deficit disorder.

Sure, we all could strive to be more attentive to others’ feelings.  Some more than others.  I just can’t get my brain around the idea of slapping on a “disorder” title for what I otherwise would call “personality.”

On NPR today I heard a story on the tomato-salmonella problem, which seems to be overblown, considering regions at risk have been identified and many regions have already been cleared by the FDA.

What caught my attention was when an FDA food safety wonk was talking about how hard it is to track the problem.  A market may have up to 4 distributors bringing in tomatoes, who each may get tomatoes from 4 suppliers, who probably get tomatoes from 4 or more farms themselves… the supply chain is convoluted and WIDE.  How in the world can such a problem ever be solved?

I know!  Buy local produce!  I know it’s not a perfect solution, but encouraging more people to know the farmers who grow the tomatoes they eat would be a start.  I don’t worry about salmonella because I can call up the farm my share comes from and find out if they’ve been tested and what the results were.  I find that reassuring.

On the “never ending diaper ado,” I just had to include this link because the columnist’s response sums up my views on diapers.  I’ve always thought that if you compare the resources required to launder diapers (soap, water consumption, gas for drying, etc) to the impact of disposable diapers (manufacture, landfill disposal, etc) you end up with a wash.  The study mentioned invested exhaustive research to back up previous research on the same topic.

Yup, the brits determined that cloth at home, cloth with diaper service, and disposable diapers are roughly equal in environmental impact.  So, bully for anyone who is seeking out environmentally friendly laundry detergent, seeking out sustainable cotton for nappies, buying local to reduce the energy consumption of transport, drying in the sun, using disposables that are made from recycled materials or free of petroleum, or using compostable diapers.  Making choices like those actually DO make one individual’s choice stand above the otherwise equal choices.

Ben and I were watching Daily Show just now and lamenting the “This Week in God” segment.  Lo and behold, Colbert did “Obama’s Church Search” which was not a surrogate, but certainly a salute to the old digs.  Sigh.  I miss “This Week in God.”  The Daily Show hasn’t been quite the same since Colbert left.

And that’s about all I can squeeze up at the moment.

After having had my head buried in the sand for some time, I recently learned that yogurt cups are not recyclable in San Diego. Boo.

With a hungry toddler in the house, it goes pretty much without saying that we consume a lot of yogurt. We eat it at home and frequently send the individual cups in her lunchbox to school. I’d estimate that in an average week our household consumes 10 to 12 cups of yogurt.

That’s a lot of plastic waste that can’t be recycled, and as you may have noticed, reducing waste has become very important to me. I did some research and discovered that it is actually not all that hard to make yogurt at home, which means that I could send it with Sami in one of her old wide-mouth bottles with a sealing lid rather than the drinking nipple; this would produce far less junk needing disposal.

This is my yogurt maker - I primarily like it for the reusable glass jars: http://www.healthgoods.com/shopping/appliances/Euro_Cuisine_YM80_Yogurt_Maker.asp

In fact, I didn’t actually even use the machine today, just the jars. I made a few small jars and a few big mason jars of yogurt, and the mason jar doesn’t fit in the yogurt machine, so I used the slow cooker.

General instructions on making yogurt:
http://biology.clc.uc.edu/Fankhauser/cheese/yogurt_making/yogurt2000.htm

Instructions I followed this time:
http://www.fakeplasticfish.com/2007/12/plastic-free-yogurt-well-almost-plus.html

I didn’t use a Thermos - as I mentioned, I used the slow cooker to maintain the temperature. It actually was kind of a pain, I had to monitor it and turn it on and off to keep it from getting too warm and too cold. Finally I set it to Warm and put the lid on off-kilter to release some of the heat, and this seemed to help the temperature stay both moderate (around 110 degrees F) and consistent.

8 hours later, after a trip to the zoo, sushi dinner and a bath for Sami, I came back to find solid-ish yogurt almost completely surrounded by a yellowish, watery liquid, which I’ve learned is called whey. I wanted thicker yogurt, so I decided to be smart and strain my yogurt through cheesecloth (saving the whey for my next creative feat, to be announced).

What I wound up with was halfway between the texture of a very firm yogurt and ricotta cheese, though still with a distinctly yogurty flavor. As it turns out, I think what I was supposed to do was maybe siphon off some of the whey, but definitely stir the creamier part back up with all or most of the whey.

Oops. Well, shoot. My first shot at home made yogurt, and I went and F-ed it up trying to be smart. That was disappointing. But I consulted with Captain Google, anyway, to try to find out what it was that I had actually made.

I ended up finding a name for what I made, when I idly started flipping through How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman, looking for anything related to making yogurt. There is an innocuous recipe tucked away in there, just called “Yogurt.” In a subsection of the recipe were instructions on making “yogurt cheese.” Back to Google!

http://www.hillbillyhousewife.com/yogurtcheese.htm

So at least there’s a name for what I ended up making. Only, true yogurt cheese is strained far longer than just a few minutes. Still, it’s thick enough I think I could pull off some uses of yogurt cheese, including spreading it on my bagel, or serving it to Sami as if it were yogurt anyway.

And then I moved on to another batch of yogurt, prepared the same way except that in the morning when I go to fetch it, I will not strain it. I’ll just stir it within an inch of its life and hope for the best.

Here endeth the adventure, for today. Reports are forthcoming on how the yogurt cheese worked out, and what home made yogurt tastes like. (It seems to smell just like commercial yogurt.)

Well, I’m officially impressed with gDiapers. I got my starter kit yesterday, which came with two pairs of g pants (cotton covers), four snap-in liners, and a packet of inserts.

Since 5 PM yesterday when I put the first one on her, we’ve had a wide variety of the types of diapers Sami typically experiences. I won’t go into too much detail, to spare the folks who don’t wipe someone else’s butt many times a day. But - no leaks! Period. When we were in cloth diapers, I could count on at least a leak, probably two in a 24-hour period, and disposables haven’t been all that much better. I think the liner + cover design really works for gDiapers.

I’m excited about how little has gone in my trash can. I’m more excited about how much has been able to go in my compost bin!

Obviously, this is my 24-hour review, and we’ll see how I feel in a week. I’m optimistic.

Lately I discovered gDiapers, and they seem like such a good idea that I wish I had known about them when Sami was tiny. They seem frankly perfect for San Diego - diapers that can be composted (if not dirty), flushed (if sewer line is not tree infested) or tossed in the trash! Unlike a regular diaper, they break down in under a hundred days, hence the compostability.

If only I’d known about these before going wholesale down the cloth route, I would have chosen gDiapers hands down. The water bills wouldn’t have balooned out of control. Cloth diapers are downright wasteful from a water standpoint! We wouldn’t have generated the trash we did for a while after the water bills became cloth-laundry-prohibitive. And I would have had probably four times the yummy compost to fertilize my garden when I planted last month.

I’m considering switching for the tail end of Sami’s diaper-wearing career. I’ll pretty immediately cut out the diaper trash, which will make me feel a lot better about what’s happening downstream from me. I doubt it will have much impact on Sami at all. And man, if we ever have another kid, I know how I plan to diaper.

And back in the saddle, though I’m re-adjusting to Pacific time very slowly and poorly.

Only by sleeping in other beds for a few weeks do you really appreciate your own, that’s all I can say.  On my visit to my parents’ place and Michelle and Andy, I slept in some mighty comfy beds, but the understated familiarity of my own is frankly insurmountable.

It’s great to be home, Sami in school during the day, eating my own food, cooking in my own kitchen, driving my own car, working in my office, sleeping in my own bed.

I spent a weekend with my parents, showing off all Sami’s new abilities and recuperating from the long day of travel from San Diego to New York.  My father met Sami and I at the airport and helped get us and our checked luggage from the terminal, over AirTrain, on the rental car shuttle and all the way into our rental car.  And I don’t know how I would have done it without him, so let’s not think of that just now.

Sami got to play outside in the same yard I played in at her age, took a walk in the old neighborhood, and spent an afternoon with my friend Jenn’s kids, Ryan (7) and Cynthia (5).  She met her cousing Madeline, age 13 months.  (Sami was NOT excited about a baby close enough in age to want to share her toys, and was thus most decidedly not charming.)

Then we drove up to Ithaca, NY to visit Andy, Michelle and new arrival, 5-weeks-and-counting Milo!  He is sweet and wonderful in the way that only babies who can’t roll over and run away can be, but still young enough and demanding enough a taskmaster to keep his momma ready to pull her own hair out - in only the way a needy infant can be.  Sami was half fascinated, half jealous of the baby - especially when I’d take him to give A&M a break here and there.

Sami was not the poster child for reproduction - but I’ve come to wonder what toddler is.  Having a toddler in the house with a new baby, when said house has not been toddler-proofed and said baby’s parents are similarly unprepared for the unrelenting persistence of said toddler… was challenging for me, the seasoned, toddler-proofed toddler-mom.  I’m sure A&M have made a list of things that Sami got into that will need to be solved before Milo is mobile.

Ithaca is just a lovely city.  This visit, I didn’t get near the college areas, so I got a real look at what the residential life is like in Ithaca.  And I like it.  I’ve spent a little time trying to sell Ben on Ithaca as a place to live, and he’s game to explore it, but I’m partly waiting for the recent-visit afterglow to wear off.  It’s SO GREEN there, it nearly blew my mind.  The supermarket, Wegmans, did blow my mind - it was as if someone rolled Henry’s, Whole Foods and our local Vons into one humongous super-super-market, but the organic and holistic offerings were exponentially larger than anything I’ve seen in any single market here in SoCal.  But mostly what blew my mind about Ithaca was the people, the upstate hippie vibe, the open space and the plethora of local chains.  It feels very alive there.

This concludes my whirlwind overview of the trek to New York.  I feel like I have tons more to write but I need to hold off lest I fritter the entire day away with posting.  More to come.  I swear.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what happens downstream from me - what I’m using on my body and rinsing down the drain.  Upon examining ingredient lists of products I frequently use and researching their origins and impacts, I have found I’m not excited about the way I’ve surrounded myself.

For the last week I’ve been using the oil cleansing method (link courtesy of NoirBettie).  I’ve used oil-based cleansers for some time, so this was definitely within my comfort zone.  The upshot of it is that I don’t use anything on my face that I wouldn’t also be comfortable eating, and I’m not using as much water or rinsing as many harsh chemicals down the drain.    Another added bonus:  my skin has been fabulous lately, and is only getting better.  I’ve taken to rubbing Sami down with olive oil after her bath, and not only can I feel safe that if she gets it in her mouth, she’ll be ok, but her skin has that baby softness and glow magnified just a little bit.

Along this vein, I compared my hygiene routine to Sami’s.  Before she was born, Ben and I attended a Baby Care class, and the instructor told us that using soap on her more than once every week or two was excessive.  So I very rarely use soap or shampoo on her, with the exception of baby wipes in her external diaper area and soap to wash her hands (hello, germ protection!)  Her hair and skin are lovely - and her dry skin only acts out on the rare occasions when we do wash her with a soap.

With this in mind, I did some research on shampoo, and discovered a method called “No ‘Poo.”  (A fairly comprehensive guide to the no ‘poo method is here.)  The idea of cutting out chemical agents from my hair care routine and replacing them with gentle and edible counterparts hits me on my good side, I must admit.

So I’m trying it.  The last time I used shampoo was on Tuesday.  I’d previously been using shampoo only every other day to every three days, just rinsing with water in between, on the advice of my hairdresser.  So my next “shampoo” would have been on Thursday or Friday, but I skipped and instead did a water-only wash again.  I made sure to brush my hair from root to end (about 8 inches, total) every day with my boar-bristle brush, to help redistribute oil throughout my hair, and this did seem to help.  By Friday morning my hair was a bit heaver than I’m accustomed to, but it certainly wasn’t as greasy as I’ve seen it in the past - on camping trips, for example.

This morning I washed my hair with a tablespoon of baking soda, and rinsed with 2 tablespoons of apple cider vinegar dissolved in a cup of water.  Results:  Not the typical squeaky-clean I recall from my shampooing days, but my hair has a lot more body than it did, say, last week, and it is shinier.  It doesn’t feel gloppy or oily.

What I’m learning here is that oily hair does not necessarily mean dirty hair.  Also, how often do I get dirty in a way that water wouldn’t fix?  Water gets mud off my hands, why not out of my hair?  Baking soda cleans my teeth (yes, I brush with baking soda and water) so why not my hair?

This is still in experimental mode.  While I’ve gotten rid of an insane hoard of body products and soaps that I had no chance of ever using and culled out products with ingredients whose name I can’t pronounce, I do recognize that if in the end I don’t look presentable, or even worse, smell bad in public, I will have to find a better solution.  But so far my hair smells fine (thank you baking soda’s odor absorbing properties) and my scalp’s oil production has not shown itself to be on a crazy bender.

I’m probably disproportionately giddy about the idea of a life untouched by the marketing power of the beauty industry.  It’s been one of my weaknesses in the past, and I’ve sought ways to control my compulsion to buy.  Of course, I still wear some makeup and I still eat food, read books and wear clothes, so it’s not like I’ll never set foot in a store again.  I still feel a minor victory in the process of eliminating marketing-driven purchases, and products with an unknown biological and environmental impact.

In the interest of full disclosure, I will point out that I am not giving up on eye cream.  I no longer need moisturizer, since the oil cleansing method leaves my skin soft and balanced, but I can’t tolerate oil standing in my undereye area.  So eye cream is the one product I’ll most likely still be purchasing on an annual or semi-annual basis.