Dubs and I walked up to the Farmer’s Market on Sunday.  He was an absolute angel.  And I happened to plan well.

We putzed around all morning, waiting for the eye rubbing and classic tired toddler signs to emerge.  As soon as they did I threw on my running shoes, plopped him in the jogger and we cruised on up there.
He fell asleep about a half mile in.  And stayed asleep through the entire market experience!  I didn’t have to bribe him with berries, hurriedly pick through the choicest heads of lettuce or settle for whatever the vendor gave me in the way of berries because I had to get out of there before Dubs knocked over the entire stand in a fit of rage.  I carefully selected each apple, sweet potato, yam, my 1/2 flat of berries to keep Dubs satiated for the week.  I perused.  I smelled.  I admired.

I took my time.

When I left there, the jogging stroller was packed to the rim.  I had bags (the shame of it all, yes, I used plastic bags from the stand because my basket is impossible to attach to the stroller.  Get over it, I walked two miles to get there) tied to both sides of the stroller, carrot and beet tops sticking so far out I was brushing people as I maneuvered the sleeping beast through the crowd.  I actually got a couple of dirty looks and one old man actually looked a little elated, like that was the most action he had had in a while.  I high tailed it out of there at that point – things can get pretty dirty at the ol Farmer’s Market.

As we were crossing the street I heard a woman’s voice.

“Is that Wyatt?”

I looked at her, then inspected the man who appeared to be her husband, noted she had to school agers with her as well.  Surmised they were her children and went back to inspecting her.  Couldn’t place her for the life of me.  I then started thinking…

Who the heck is this woman and why didn’t I just wipe his face after the cottage cheese and berry explosion we call breakfast?

“It is.”

“Oh, you must wonder who the heck I am!  I’m so and so, and this is my husband, so and so, and my kids, so and so and so and so.”

“Oh. Nice to meet you so and so’s.”

“Oh, my kids go to daycare with Wyatt!  I see him when I drop the kids off and pick them up.  And we live right next to daycare; you ride your bike there, right?”

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

“Well great to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too. Take care.”

I walked away feeling a little taken aback.  He’s been in daycare for all of three weeks and he already has an entire social circle that I don’t even know about.  What is high school going to be like?  How popular can a 15 month old be?  This is only the beginning of the little things I am not going to know about.  And the beginning of all the big things I am not going to know about.

My 15 month old has a secret life that I have not been made privy too.  His tricks never end.

I have been waiting and waiting for Dubs to get some decent teeth.  He cut his first ones at 8 months, bottom two, front and center.

And then nothing for months… and months… six of them to be exact…

I may have been anxious because I was tired of hearing “oh, only two teeth, at a year? My son had all of his teeth by that age” and “oh, late teether, huh?” and even the pediatrician “well, we like to see four teeth by about a year”.

As if teething is anything anyone has any control over.  Now I know my son has some power and control issues and admittedly most of our relationship is a power struggle, but I know he is not holding out on teething just to have control over something in his life.

After all my months of waiting, he finally cut his top four.  Front and center.  Pearly whites.  All one right after another.

At almost 15 months it was about time.  After the months of sticking my fingers in his mouth, poking around, looking in there any chance I got, anxious… waiting… knowing they had to show sometime.  Seriously starting to wonder if he won’t get milk teeth and will go straight to big boy teeth  - and thinking how funny his little mouth would look with all big boy teeth.  I had a friend in high school who had the tiniest teeth ever, I used to make fun of her for her tiny teeth, telling her “your baby teeth never fell out, you still have milk teeth.”  Kharma’s a bitch.

I had a dream, early on in my pregnancy, that Dub was born with a mouth full of huge teeth.  And the birth went so well I couldn’t even remember it.  I asked the nurse “did I have any pain meds? Did I make it through without an epidural?”  Her reply was to bring me a naked, writhing, long and skinny little boy and tell me to “NURSE HIM!”  I was terrified of her.  I had heard from girlfriends about the “nipple nazi’s” at the hospital, the lactation consultants that are all over your bosom and all up in your business.  This was THE nipple nazi.  So she hands me the skinniest baby ever, and he opens his mouth to latch on and has a mouth FULL of HUGE teeth.  Huge.  I started telling the nipple nazi, “No!  Look at his teeth, look at his teeth!”

This dream, along with one other, told me I was having a boy.

At any rate, after all of my stressing, waiting and anticipating (even before birth), Dubs finally got some teeth to be proud of.

Then he picked a glass up off the nightstand that I had failed to put away that morning.  And he was apparently (I was all of 10 feet away throwing some clothes in the washing machine, daring to look away from him long enough to shove the clothes in) holding it up to his face to look through it and walk – this is one of his new favorite games, loves to do it with tupperware.  And apparently he fell, his face using the glass to break his fall.

The good news: the glass did not break.

The bad news: he chipped two of his front four teeth (and they were not even all the way in yet, really making it look like they hadn’t even cut yet), gave himself a fat lip and a goose egg on his forehead.

Pediatric dentures may be in order after all.

In an attempt to showcase how well Dubs is making the transition to daycare (in-home, same place his two cousins go, and for all of a day and a half a week), his provider told me “he was smiling today, I even got a picture.”

I thought, “huh, so this means he normally doesn’t really smile?” (and he has been there for a month now).

She did not read my mind, and continued: “normally the kids and I tease him all day saying ‘don’t smile, don’t you do it!’ because he doesn’t smile.  Sometimes he’ll smile when he’s eating his berries, but today, today he was actually smiling when he wasn’t at the table.”

So… this means he has been more miserable than even I had imagined…

I kind of thought that it would be easier for him to be in daycare once he was a little bit older.  And I also thought his cousins being there would help him out a little too.  He hasn’t really made the transition very easy.  Nor very peacefully.  And he sure isn’t going quietly.  I know this is a trait I really will truly admire, and be grateful for, when he is a little older (like out of my house and in the job market older).  But for now it is a little gut wrenching, sometimes traumatizing and always a little heartbreaking.

My sister was also kind enough to share some of Dubs’ experiences at daycare with me, ones my wise daycare provider is seasoned enough not to share with me.  My sister picked her kids up early one day and her oldest (almost 3) was just getting up from his nap, and like his mom, is very grumpy when woken.  He decided he was not going with her and would only leave if daddy were to come get him.  So she waited him out while watching Dubs’ sad transition.  Apparently he would “yell” at the provider, she would say “no, no, no yelling”, pick him up, put him in a room away from where the kids are sleeping and then wait until he stopped yelling, pick him back up and bring him back out to socialize telling him “thank you for not yelling.”  They did this dance for a half an hour before Dubs gave up and went toff to sulk by himself.

When my sister called to tell me this, she also told me that the daycare provider had to take the bell off the door.  Every time he heard it he thought it was his knight in shining armor coming to rescue him (aka: mama).  He would get so upset that is wasn’t me, she decided to take the bell off the door.

It was at about this point I told my sister I was at work and had to go.  That was a lie.  I could have talked for hours if I had wanted too.  But I could not hear how miserable my little beast was at daycare, not one more word.  I knew it was going to be tough, and I know that he is stubborn.  But really, spare me the gory details.  There is only so much I can handle.

Oh, and twice he has enjoyed french toast at daycare.  And twice I have said kindly “with eggs?”

Welcome to the July Carnival of Natural Parenting: You Are What You Eat

This post was written for inclusion in the monthly Carnival of Natural Parenting hosted by Code Name: Mama and Hobo Mama. This month our participants have written about their struggles and successes with healthy eating. Please read to the end to find a list of links to the other carnival participants.

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Oil and Yogurt

The oil spill devastated me. Just devastated. My husband and I are avid surfers and nature enthusiasts. I don’t even have words for the oil spill. When I am working things I out I need to move. And not just go for a walk. I need some moving meditation. Like knitting, where you are involved but absent minded at the same time. But knitting is too little energy. Cleaning can sometimes work too, mindless and purposeful at the same time. But the oil spill required something more.

In trying to work out the oil spill, and specifically what I could do, because I felt so helpless and lost, I found yogurt. Yes, yogurt.

My son, at 14 months of age, continues to breast feed and gorge himself on berries, yogurt and cottage cheese. And that’s all. We go through a lot of yogurt. I started researching yogurt making, and researching, and researching some more. After about 2 serious weeks of contemplating, thinking and collecting advice from different noble yogurt-making sites, I embarked upon my mission.

In making homemade yogurt, I decided I would only do basic and simple and would not buy any equipment, only using what was already in my kitchen. With anticipation and anxiety, I worked on my first batch. I had my husband watch my son for this first batch as the yogurt needed, and deserved my full attention… After the heating, cooling, incubating (in an old sun bleached cooler) and initial taste tests it was confirmed. I had an incredible specimen of yogurt. Creamy, smooth, and slightly sweeter than anything store bought.

As I have continued on my yogurt making journey, remember, sparked by the oil spill, I have come to realize many things… One, that reducing any waste is a help, even if it is only eliminating a few plastic containers of yogurt a week. Another one, that feeding my family fresh, wholesome foods is a priority. I found that making homemade yogurt cuts the price to less than half, and that leaves room to buy the organic milk and use the most nutritious ingredients. And I learned that you don’t need to spend money on a fancy gadget to sit on your counter, taking up space.

And, it has sparked an entire revolution in my house. Seeing those birds covered in oil, watching in horror the beautiful swirls of green, black, blue from space, those pictures flashing through my mind as I meditate on my yogurt; stirring, watching the milk to see when it hits temp, no longer needing a thermometer, watching it cool, waiting with patience as it is not a process you can rush or control, has given me the motivation to clean out the cupboards. My family is now on a no processed diet. If we can make it at home, we do. I make all homemade salsa. I am embarking on an ice cream making adventure (sans machine or fancy equipment of course). We make homemade tortillas. I have a potted garden taking over all of the walking space on my tiny deck overlooking a nature trail in my modest, suburban town home.

And then I bought a bicycle yesterday. I broke my shoulder mountain biking three years ago, spent three months in a cast, miserable and unable to cut my own vegetables. I swore I would never be bi-pedal again. It only took an oil spill and a couple months of yogurt making to break that vow. The goal is to be a one car family that bikes 97% of the time. We currently have two cars and will likely get rid of one of them; my husband is a free-lance photographer and will always need a vehicle to transport all of his equipment.

I may not have solved the oil spill crisis. Or really even made a dent in the barrels and barrels that continue to spill into our ocean. But I have found a better way to feed my family and my soul. I have lessened my guilt and my carbon foot print. And I have made some of the most incredible yogurt you will ever taste. Try it. I dare you.

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Visit Code Name: Mama and Hobo Mama to find out how you can participate in the next Carnival of Natural Parenting!

Please take time to read the submissions by the other carnival participants:

(This list will be updated July 13 with all the carnival links.)

• Welcome to Two — All About Food — In case you hadn’t heard, there is a conspiracy afoot from the two year olds of the world. Shana at Tales of Minor Interest stumbled onto their newsletter!
• Four Seasons of Eating Locally — Jenn at Monkey Butt Junction has pointers for what fresh produce can be found year-round. (@MBJunction)
• Happy Families Can Have More Than One Diet — Deb Chitwood at Living Montessori Now has figured out a way for her family to live happily as vegans and vegetarians with relatives who eat meat. (@DebChitwood)
• My Own Omnivore’s Dilemma — Seonaid at The Practical Dilettante prioritizes responsible consumer choices for her family.
• No Gluten — No Cry — Joni Rae at Tales of a Kitchen Witch Momma learned to cook balanced meals when her son’s food sensitivities prompted a diet overhaul. (@kitchenwitch)
• Try, Try Again — Stefanie at very very fine has become an enthusiastic consumer of locally grown food.
• CSA — Week 1 — Casey at What Love Is wants her children to know where their food comes from, so she joined a friendly CSA. (@CBerbs)
• Food: Parenting or Homemaking? — Michelle at The Parent Vortex sees food as part of a parent’s nurturing role. (@TheParentVortex)
• 5 Tips to Help Kids Develop Healthy Eating Habits — If you struggle with healthy eating, helping your child develop healthy habits might be a challenge. Dionna at Code Name: Mama shares five easy tips that will help your kids learn to make good food choices. (@CodeNameMama)
• Family Food: Seeking Balance Between Healthy, Sustainable & Affordable — Kristin at Intrepid Murmurings has a whole list of ideas for how she can improve her family’s eating, both now and into the future. (@sunfrog)
• Whole Foods in, Wholesome Feelings Out — Jessica at This is Worthwhile has turned her back on the processed, preservative-ridden food of her childhood. (@tisworthwhile)
• When to Splurge on Organic (and When It Is Okay to Skip It) — Becoming Mamas tell you what foods to prioritize when buying pricier organic food, and where you can find it cheaper. (@becomingmamas)
• A Locavore’s Family Meal — Acacia at Be Present Mama tells a story in pictures of her family taking a trip to the local organic farmers market and then preparing a summer meal together with their bounty.
• Eat Your Food, or Else — Why should we not bribe a child to eat? TwinToddlersDad from Littlestomaks (Science Driven Real Life Toddler Nutrition) explains. (@TwinToddlersDad)
• Food, Glorious Food! — Luschka at Diary of a First Child describes three easy ways her family has started eating healthier. (@diaryfirstchild)
• Celebrating Food — Mrs Green at Little Green Blog believes in food as medicine and thinks it’s worth paying more to keep healthy. (@myzerowaste)
• Oil and Yogurt — What have you been motivated to do with the current oil spill crisis? midnightfeedings has started making her own yogurt. (@midnightfeeding)
• Growth-Spurt Soup (AKA “Beannut Stew”) — BeanMa has a special stew to help her baby through growth spurts that keep her up all night. (@thebeanma)
• Why I Love The Real Food Community — Much like many people who follow AP/NP values, Melodie at Breastfeeding Moms Unite! takes the parts of the “real food” philosophy that work for her family and leaves the rest. (@bfmom)
• Feeding a Family of Six — Mandy at Living Peacefully with Children gives helpful tips for feeding a family of six.
• Starting Solids at 6 Months — Did your doctor recommend that you give your baby cereal? Sheryl at Little Snowflakes discusses how whole foods are so much healthier (and more delicious) than traditional cereal. (@sheryljesin)
• Am I What I Eat? — Andrea!!! at Ella-Bean & Co. has figured out a way to avoid grocery stores nearly altogether.
• Are We Setting Our Kids Up To Fail? — Megan at Purple Dancing Dahlias found that cutting out the junk also transformed her sons’ behavior problems.
• Changing your family’s way of eating — Lauren at Hobo Mama has techniques you can try to move your family gradually toward a healthier diet. (@Hobo_Mama)
• Real Food — What kinds of fake foods do you eat? And why?! Lisa C. at My World Edenwild talks about why she chooses real food.
• A Snackaholic’s Food Battle — Julie at Simple Life wants to stop snacking and get into the old ways of cooking from scratch and raising her own food. (@homemakerjulie)
• Food, Not Fight — Summer at Finding Summer doesn’t want her kids to grow up like her husband: hating everything green. (@summerm)
• How Do You Eat When You Are out of Town? — Cassie at There’s a Pickle In My Life wants some tips on how to eat healthy when you are out of town.
• Carnival of Natural Parenting: Food! — Sybil at Musings of a Milk Maker hopes that by serving her children healthy, balanced meals, they will become accustomed to making good food choices. (@sybilryan)
• There’s No Food Like Home’s — NavelgazingBajan at Navelgazing revels in the Bajan food of her upbringing. (@BlkWmnDoBF)
• This Mom’s Food Journey — Kat at Loving {Almost} Every Moment made a journey from not paying attention to food to growing her own.
• Who Knew Eating Was So Hard? — The challenges involved in changing to healthier eating habits take on a whole new dimension when you have a child who has difficulties eating. kadiera at Our Little Acorn shares her own experiences. (@kadiera)
• Loving Food — Starr at Earth Mama truly believes food is her family’s medicine and is willing to spend days preparing it the traditional way.
• Food Mindfulness — Danielle at born.in.japan details how her family spends money on each category of food. (@borninjp)
• Food for Little People — Zoey at Good Goog wants to bless her daughter with happy traditions built around good food. (@zoeyspeak)
• Eat Like a Baby — Have you been told that you should not equate food with love? Kate Wicker at Momopoly shows us why that’s not necessarily true. (@Momopoly)
• Food — Deb at Science@Home tries to teach her children three rules to help them eat a healthy diet. (@ScienceMum)
• Healthy Eating Lactose-Free — MamanADroit gives us tips on how to eat healthy if you are lactose intolerant (or just don’t want cow milk). (@MamanADroit)

Tonight I took him to a concert in the park.  We saw the Cherry Poppin’ Daddies.  Good, clean family fun.  Except when the show starts at 6, and you get there at 5 to scope it out and park close (in case of an emergency melt-down exit) and it happens to be the very first hot day of the year.  On the 24th of June.  Where the hell has summer been anyway?

My husband couldn’t go so Dubs and I met up with my cousin and her 3 year old.  He took two amazing naps today so I was sure the 6-8 timeframe would not be a problem.  That was foolish.  It is always a problem and should never be conquered alone (many props to the single  parents out there – I salute you).  Dubs and I danced for a while, I chased him for a while longer, I coerced him into drinking some fluids for fear of hydration and he succeeded in getting totally covered in bubble solution – the cutie next to him was blowing the oversized bubbles right over his head while Dubs played in the bucket of solution.  I dragged him away kicking after the fourth time I asked him nicely not to eat the bubble solution.  Good, clean family fun!  On a positive note, I did not have to use any soap when bathing him tonight.

Overall he actually did do really well.  I just wonder why I never see any other children melting down and freaking out like mine.  I read about them.  I see them on sit-coms.  I know other kids do it.  So why don’t I ever get to witness it and have some verification that I am not the only one?

I decided to skidaddle when Dubs’ stalking of the tricycle got a little too intense for me.  The nice mama of the ‘cycle said Dubs could play on it as long as her son wasn’t around – Dub’s had attempted taking over the coveted three wheeled bike earlier and her son would have none of it.  Sure enough, Dub happened to find the trike sans 3 year old owner about 20 minutes after his first hostile take-over.  Dubs crawled on it, growled, wiggled, pushed it back and forth, crawled off it, growled at it and did this routine over and over.  The music was coming to an end, I could sense it, they finally played “Zoot Suit Riot”.  This meant the owner would be back soon (I assumed he was off dancing with his daddy) and I wanted to make sure there would not be any altercations.  I removed Dubs from the trike, hoping against all hope he would go willingly.

This did not happen.  He kicked and screamed as I made my way through the crowd smiling at folks, making sure Dubs did not kick anyone in the head as we passed.  I got to our bag of belongings and wondered how I was going to make it all the way to the car with diaper bag, blanket and writhing toddler.  This alone is reason to have a mate to co-parent with.

Or, you can borrow one for a minute.

Here’s a little trick I learned tonight.  When your child is writhing and screaming because you have taken them away from the only tricycle they have ever truly loved, thus crushing all of their dreams of ever becoming a BMX tricycle stunt bum, hand them off to someone else.  Pack up your belongings slowly as the other person (in this case my wonderful pregnant cousin who has a 3 year old and thinks Dubs is a piece of cake) calmly holds on to your screaming beast.  Amazing how your beast becomes a sweet, quiet child, nestled tightly in your arms.  Amazing.  We made it calmly all the way to the car before the next meltdown.

I am devastated over the oil spill. I truly am. I started collecting Bruno’s dog hair to send down to soak up the oil and then heard it was of no use, they weren’t using the hair that was being sent.

So I did what any heart-broken, semi-hippy, tree-loving mama would do. I made homemade yogurt.

Yeah, it’s a small step. But it’s something. There are two things Dub eats consistently and those are yogurt and cottage cheese. As a small family of three we go through quite a bit of yogurt. I started buying large containers to help cut down on package waste, but have realized making it at home would equal no package waste. Seems I get a little more dirty granola hippy every day.

I spent the last week reading every article I could on homemade yogurt. I googled it until the cows (and goats) came home. My husband laughed at my excitement and anticipation on taking on this project and the energies I was expending; he could not open up the laptop without 12 tabs open on yogurt making.

As I am not interested in putting even one more counter stealing kitchen appliance, nor in spending money, I researched all the cheapo ways of making this delectible treat. A couple of the sites I really liked:

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

http://www.motherearthnews.com/Real-Food/1980-03-01/How-To-Make-Yogurt.aspx

After reading and reading and anticipating and preparing I finally jumped in…

Bring 4 cups of milk to a boil – reach a temp of anywhere from 160 – 185

Cool to 115

Add approx 3 tablespoons of starter (buy yogurt from the store that says “active live cultures” – freeze the rest for later use)

Stir it up good using a metal or plastic spoon

Dump it into mason jars with lids

Incubate it for anywhere between 4 – 8 hours

I boiled my milk and could not believe how long it was taking. I think my pan was too shallow as when I put the thermometer on it’s side and swished it around I got a much higher reading. I scorched the milk a little bit and was positive this was dire news (turns out the yogurt still tasted great). I was careful not to scrape any of the scorched bottom as I stirred and thankfully the milk did not taste burnt.

The milk cooled sooner than I thought. It only took about 10 minutes for it to get down to 115 while it took about 30 to get to 185 (played it safe, went with higher temp over the recipe calling for 160).

Stirring the culture in was scary. It was hard to get it to incorporate; it was still a little lumpy when I poured it into my jars and this I also thought would be dire news (nope, totally fine).

I could not find any real direction on whether or not you needed to sterilize the mason jars and lids. I played it safe and sterilized them – good ol boiling water immersion.

There are about a hundred and one ways to incubate your yogurt. You want to keep it at an even temperature around 100. I used an old cooler; placed yogurt in cooler and added two large mason jars filled with hot water (read you can use tap, I used the “insta-hot” we have). With this method you may need to change out the water after about 4 hours.

If your yogurt tastes good, it is good. If it tastes nasty you likely contaminated it with something after getting it to temp or did not get it to temp. Getting it to temp (160-185) kills the bad microorganisms leaving room for the good ones, acidophilus.

I read that yogurt is really trial and error. The first few batches are going to be on the sketchy side and everyone sort of gets their own system down after their trial and error.  Not to boast, but my first batch was kick ass.  Perfect consistency, not a lot of whey on the top.  Just fantastic.

Because I was so excited about the success of the yogurt, I went ahead and dumped one of the jars into some cheesecloth, let it drain overnight in the fridge and what do you know, soft cheese!  It tastes a little like sour cream.  I actually spread it on top of some tamales and it was fabulous!

While I have not solved the oil spill problem I have at least taken my mind off of it for a while.  Making yogurt requires you to breathe, relax and have patience, lots of patience…