Oh, hello. What? I can't hear you. My ears are filled with cobwebs.

Um, er. Yes. Well. Hello! I can see by my handy 2009 calendar that it's been a while. There are so many happenings chez nous, both good and tragically bad.

To the good: Jabba (who has morphed into Chewie with her amazing Wookie impersonations) is walking. And she's 16 months old. What! She isn't quite talking, I don't think, but then again, she makes the same noise everytime she sees the cat, and it sounds, if you stretch your ears to the back of your head and hold your left arm up just so, like "GA!" which I consider to be Close Enough. So she's talking, fine. Yes! Add one more to the chorus of my God, I can't hear myself think with all the voices talking at me at once.

On the farm front: I think someone ate Rosencrantz sometime this winter. Alas. I knew him well. ahem. I gave Guildenstern to the shearer when he came, and then my sheep died, so that was nice. The running theory is that the ewes had toxemia and I put that down to poor management. I'll know better next time, and that means I'll find a new way to kill the next batch. Marley probably succumbed to worms. The ewes had three lambs between them, all just about due. So that's what, a 200% loss?

Crazy Betty is setting on a new batch of eggs, and I hope they will all hatch safely. I'm not sure how they'll get out of the nest box, elevated as it is, but I suppose I can deal with that when it comes.

We're drowning in eggs. I think there is a gross of them on the porch. We have one hen who produces olive-green eggs. I wish I could figure out which one it was; I'd like to ID her. In the meantime, I'll just keep them by for incubating.

I put out the call for chicken and turkey orders. It's hard to know what to price them at without knowing how many I have to order, but people want to know how much I'll be charging. I may just ballpark it.

Perp is having a grand time in kindergarten. She turned 6 last week, dude, and I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around that. Six. She got a bike for her birthday and has mastered riding up and down the apron of the garage and coasting back down.

Dude also got a bike for his birthday (4!), and he's slowly learning to manage it. More importantly, he got to see the end of Bad Rooster.



Bad Rooster made a big impression around here.
He would pretty much attack any one of us, mostly from behind, and around here, mean people get eaten.
















So we ate him. And it was good. And Dude was happy the end.

The view from the North Pole

just got obscured by letters.

Dear Santa,

This year, I have been very good. I am nice to my sisters most of the time. I try to help around the house when Mama needs it. I take naps most days. Sometimes I don't hit. Sometimes I don't scream. I think that's all.

This year I would like a space suit, a helmet, a firetruck man, a clown car, and a clown suit. I think that I want a police suit, a police car. I would like new games new clothes, please. I mean not new clothes, just new game a helmet for a space man, a space suit, firetruck man, and a police things and a space ship helmet, space suit, firetruck man and police. And a, uh, space ship to go with the space suit and the helmet. And I think that's all.

Love,
Dude.


Dear Santa,

Cleaning my room, and sleeping in my room for two nights, and helping cleaning the dishes. And another thing helpful is staying in my room unles we have to go to the bathroom and always going potty before I go to bed, this is at Grammy's, too. Also, sometimes going to sleep, going to school, that's my favorite part. Playing with my friends inside and outside, being quiet while my teacher talks.

I was doing well and I liked getting for me the food for me and Dude, the toy food.
I liked getting Sprinkles the bear for my brother.

I would like pom-poms and a cheerleader costume [ed. - we're watching the football as I type this]. I want a (before I do another one, can I please tell you if Santa lives in the North Pole? Does he? I always wanted to go there!) king merman. I remember last time when I saw the elves. That's it.

Love,
Perp

Mind like a steel trap

P's playing with a jelly treat and drops it.
Me: Better grab it before it runs away.
P: Food doesn't move.
Me: Piggies move.
Whining child: Not when they're cooked.

Exactly what demographic is Noggin attempting to draw with these Jumparounds videos? The all-important "Desperately longing for youth so we'll take a role we're 20 years too old for" group? Perhaps those "I really wanted to be in Scooby Doo as a kid" folks you hear rumors about? Seriously. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?

No, really. I don't get it. These people are all at least 30, pretending to be teens. Nothing new here, I know, but it still boggles the mind. They do lameass dance moves that Perp is trying to copy. I find this both amusing and horrifying. Yes, I love that she wants to get her groove on, but dude. Can't we put on Code Monkey* or something instead?

Also: I don't care what anyone says, I love Yo Gabba Gabba. Biz Markie! There's a party in my tummy! It reminds me a bit of the Sid and Marty Krofft acid trip extravaganzas of my youth. I honestly thought I'd come up with H. R. Pufnstuf during a febrile nightmare one night. Seriously. What. the. fuck.

Oh, and using periods for dramatic effect has officially jumped the shark. I saw it on the cover of some gossip rag at the grocery store yesterday. Shit.

In other news, Jabba is nearly sitting up on her own. She does crunches when she lies down (uber cute), and today went from propping herself up with her hands to fully sitting. On her own. Awww, crap.

She cut two teeth on the bottom and is busy trying to gnaw my fingers off whenever she has the opportunity. She has tried bananas and avocados and loves them both, but I don't think she's getting much down her gullet. I just park her in the high chair and give her a slice of either (long ways) and let her go to town. I have to say, I don't miss the purees at all and I don't think she does either. Since we waited to introduce solids until she was 6 months old, it seemed reasonable to just skip that whole stage. Whee!

I ate cheese today. I suspect I'll be posting tomorrow about the hideous night she (we) had. But maybe we'll luck out. She still does not approve of coffee or wheat but I'm just not ready to give up the latter, given that dairy and joe are out.

Holy shit, ya'll, it went from 47 to 87 today in about 20 minutes. The wind started to shift around noon, with a HUGE wind storm, then it calmed down just a few minutes ago and no shit, it's 90 at our house. In town? fifty-nine. That's crazy, yo.

Dude is still cute and has oddly adult mannerisms, none of which I can bring to mind at the moment. Thanks, lactation lobotomy! He and Perp start summer school mid-June and we're all v excited about it. It gives Perp the perfect opportunity to get familiar with the school layout, introduce Dude to new kids and possibly neighbors (playdates!), and give Jabba a few hours a day of pure, unadulterated Mama time. I think this will be a good thing.

Perp is in an ... interesting ... stage. She's 5. I think that's probably all you need to know. It pretty much says it all:
"Oh, yeah, sorry about X, Y, Z that Perp did. She's 5."
"Ohhhhh, gotcha. Sorry!"

Mary Poppins will be coming to our house for the summer again. She'll be splitting her hours between us and some friends in town with a toddler, so I won't have her daily, but I am so sublimely blissed out by this that I don't even mind it much when Dude tries to headbutt me on the way to naptime. Much, I said. I'm not stoned.

Random mix of news that I'm not even trying to tie together in a coherent post:

I got Husband a Kindle for his birthday and he's in the trial phase, trying to determine if he'll use it enough to keep it or if he should trade it in for blowjob coupons. I suppose I chould just give him both.

We got three pallets of concrete blocks delivered so I can make raised beds where the fenced gardens used to be. The wood was rotting and I decided that a few raised beds made more sense than 55' of mostly unattended garden. Also, I can reorient them so they run N/S instead of E/W. A friend's rockstar husband came over and tilled the spot for the first bed last week, so I just need to level the edges and place the bricks. She said, casually, as if it were just that easy. I think a friend is coming later this or next week to ride herd on the kids while I work.

We have our second batch of meat birds in the garage. I moved the first batch of chickens and turkeys out to the bird yard, and they're all doing really well. We lost one chick to spraddle leg/trampling, and I think two each to general failure. I found the remains of one turkey outside the fence. Since the pigs trashed it last year, the birds have been just ducking underneath a section and going on walkabout. Not so much with the safety, there.

The first batch of chickens is due to go to the slaughterhouse at the end of next month and I honestly don't know if they're going to be big enough. Since they're actually free range, they don't sit and eat crazy high-protein all day long, which means that while they are gaining faster than the layers, say, they're still not going to be mondo birds by 6 weeks, like the ones you see in the grocery store. You read that right. Six. Six weeks. How sad is that? But at least mine are running around, eating bugs, taking dust baths, and doing crazy chicken things, instead of living inside a building loaded with their own shit and devoid of sunshine and grass. Also, I think this first batch will be more like 8 weeks.

If we can get our shit together this weekend, we'll put the electric in the temporary pig yard and get the first two of four. We can't get any until we're ready to build the main yard, though, and I realized that we might need to change our method of building after I saw the fence a friend put up. Seriously, it's a thing of beauty. We could use it for pigs, sheep, AND cows if we wanted, and I suspect we could put birds in there and keep them safe.

Said friend also has Muscovy ducks and I'm going to bring a few home. They are very good setters and mothers and I suspect that the only thing that will keep ducks safe is starting with wily adults.

I got a few dozen minnows for the pond and released them yesterday. I think the pond freezes enough to kill all the fish off, since we NEVER see any feeding dimples in the water, but I don't mind getting a few dozen a year to keep the mosquitoes down. Maybe we'll even see some predator birds.

My mom wants me to take a Master Canner class. Should I? I do a little bit most years, but I'm kind of afraid it would raise my interest in an unhealthy way. That is to say: I'll go apeshit and try to can everything I bring home and we'll never get the kitchen back.















*Known as "Code Monkey love you" chez Smacky.

Anyone need some eggs?

That's two eggs short of eight and a half dozen. I'm sure there's some kind of crazy joke to be made in there, and I wouldn't begrudge you one little bit. I really wouldn't. Husband found the motherlode today, almost three dozen in a tipped over cardboard box out in the pole barn. I've seen that box I don't know how many times, but it never occured to me it would present itself as the Ideal Nestbox. Silly me.

Yeah, so hi! Hello, how are you! Um, I guess I don't have a good reason for not posting. Post partum derangement, perhaps? Yes! Why not? We've had two birthdays, not including Jabba's, a couple days where I sat for a friend's kids and had something crazy like eight preschoolers, toddlers, and babies in the house with just me in attendance*. If that ain't crazy, I don't know what is.

So, a roundup of our activities over the last few months (shameful!):
I flew with all three kids to my dad's place on the East Coast. By. my. self. And we were all unmedicated! I KNOW!

Actually, when it comes to flying, my kids are rock. stars. They kind of suck in the airport itself, but really, where would you rather have the good behavior? In a relatively small, exceptionally contained space, or a hundreds of thousands of square-feet facility with room to run? Yes, exactly.

We spent two weeks out east, with Husband coming out for the second half, which is when we turned it up a notch and dispatched 500 clams. Dude didn't have a chance to repeat his astonishing oysterfest, but he made do. We took a couple dozen out on the dock and tossed them in, hoping they might take a liking to the place and settle in for a stay. Who knows, it could work.

My folks and I took the kids to the beach for a foot-dip, but it was pretty windy and cold, and really too early in the season for a beach day. Perp was ecstatic about being able to stick her toes in the ocean, though. Dude managed to handle the wind pretty well; he HATES it when it blows in his ears, always has. Even as an infant, he'd burrow his face into my chest at the least sign of a breeze. Freak.

Unfortunately, we had a minor tragedy. Let me just say that a four-pound box of shortbread cookies and I cannot coexist in the same house together. Good thing I got the stomach flu yesterday and managed to unload a few pounds in the space of 16 hours. My pants almost fit again.

We all flew home togther and managed to survive the cancelled flight, reroute to Chicago (go see the dinosaur!) and late-night drive from Big City airport to our little burg. Instead of arriving home in time for a late-ish bedtime for the kids, we got home at about 2 am. But we still got home, so okay.

We got our first batches of birds last week, 25 turkeys (bronzes) and 25 meat birds. I have them all together in a wading pool, but they announced their displeasure with this setup by starting to pick at each other. I had to put three bandaids on the butt of one of the chickens. I'll try to get a shot of that, it's actually kinda cute.

So tomorrow, I'll move them out to the new old chicken coop, set up the lights, and let them have more room to roam. I think it'll do them a world of good and I bet the picking stops right away.

And! One of our hens hatched a chick! And she's raising it! For those of you what don't have chickens, this is a Big Deal. Most birds have had the setting/brooding instinct bred out of them, so the only way to increase your flock is to buy chicks or use an incubator/brooder setup. But I managed to score an excellent mama hen, who is doing a bang-up job, and I hope she'll hatch out a full clutch this summer. I suspect that any chicks she raises that have the least natural inclination to motherhood be more likely to get the job done. The other birds we've had who managed to set long enough to hatch eggs out were suckass mothers and smothered the hicks or abandoned them. This is too cool. Me, I'm remarkably easy to please. Cheap date!

So far, no indication that I'll get into school early --holy crap, it's POURING just now-- and frankly that's good since we have no childcare leads. Helps to look for some, I suppose..

And now, cute kid pics!





































*I don't mean eight of each, of course. That would be insane.

Oh. Um, EWWW

When you flush the toilet, ideally all the products therein flow merrily downhill through the stack and into the sewer/septic/holding tank/whatever fetid locale you happen to have. Right?

I'm just checking, because right now? If you flush the upstairs bathroom toilet, massive quantities of ick flow up through the tub drain. Into the tub. Which we generally use for cleansing our bodies.

There are no words.

Husband made a valiant effort and tried to snake the toilet, but my theory is that the issue is in the tub's line and it's moved far enough down that now it's affecting the toilet, too.

PS, my god we poop a lot.

In other news, I called our local meat guys and am waiting to hear back on when they're coming out to do the pigs. They won't be nearly as big as Breakfast and Brunch, but we got them late (thanks, local meat guys!), so our timeline was shorter.

I feel bad because unlike pretty much any other animal I can think of, when the pigs encounter the electric fence, these guys charge THROUGH it instead of backing AWAY from it. So we haven't had any luck moving them to greener pastures (literally). They're still in the chicken yard, which thanks to several days of rain and the handiwork of our rootertillers, now measure about 5" of muck. I know they'd rather have nice cushy grass but they're too effing stupid/stubborn/bizarre to accept that white lines = pain and hey, STAY AWAY FROM THE WHITE LINES AND EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE.

Next year, we learn them young and early.

Perp started preschool last week and is already home with a cold. Swell! I know she's really feeling pretty bad because she's willing to just flop on the couch with Noggin on, and even spent several hours upstairs in her bed with no complaint. People, that's huge.

Dude has mastered the art of pooping on the potty. This morning, he dragged Husband in to show him and said, "That certainly is a big poop!" Too bad we couldn't flush it down the freaking toilet.

Another successful day of mothering

down the drain.

Hey, I have an idea: let's have a bath! Relaxing, cleansing, fun. Right?

Tell that to the two tearing around the upstairs hall shrieking at the top of their lungs (now with fighting!). I warned Dude that standing up in the tub meant an automatic end to bathtime and he didn't believe me. NOW he wants to wash his hair, which I couldn't bribe him to do with all the tea in China (or jellybeans in the candy factory, which is a far more likely option). Perp didn't want to get out because she wanted to play mermaid, but I really want to get them fed and down early. So I wrestled him out, threatened her out, and now they're banging on my door and trying their level best to break the sound barrier.

TO hell with the kids, it's a wonder any of the parents survive.

I wish you could hear them. It's really quite astonishing.

Must be time for a vacation

Perp: I wish I didn't have a little brother. Then we could go to lizard land today.
Me: Where's that?
P: Mmmm, it's by Mexico.

"No, Daddy,

you can't serious me. You're killing me."

WTF?

I'm back! And I'm biased!

Ah, summer. Hot, sticky, humid summer. It's coming and I'm about to grow Very Cranky. So I thought I'd try and figure out why it is that I'm so intolerant of intolerance, but still manage to have my own little balls of bias living in my brain.

I don't like formula feeding. That is, I don't like it for convenience. I understand that there are a few (very few) women who legitimately don't produce enough milk, and that some can't nurse because of meds they need to take. But when women just choose to do it, it really bothers me. I never, ever say anything, because it's not my place to tell people how to feed their children. And I know that puts me in the minority of lactivists, but still. It's there. Right under the surface, just hoping I get an opening to put in my two cents. Which I'm too chicken to give. Ah well.

But there it is, I don't support formula feeding unless it's medically necessary. And I'm guessing that my idea of medically necessary is a lot different than most people.

I also find myself discounting people who are very vocal about their religion. Mostly that ends up being Christians (and when did that become a denomination?). I have a few friends who are very religious but it's just part of who they are, not something they use like a hammer to wear others down. When someone says, "What *we* believe," or "In *our* family, we do X," I have no problem with that. When someone says, "What *you* should do," or "The bible says you should do X," I shut down. I can't help it. Part of it is that I just don't seem to have the faith gene that others have. And I'm okay with that. I really am. A lot of people are not okay with that, though, and they don't mind telling me so. THAT I have a problem with.

I understand the command to go out and spread the gospel. But I think it should be shared with people who want to hear it and not forced on people who don't.

But again, I keep it to myself. I don't complain when people talk about their faith, though I think I'll start telling them I don't need to be saved, thanks.

It didn't even occur to me that I had these biases until I was ranting about intolerant people and it suddenly clicked that, hey! I have a couple tender spots myself. I like to think that I don't force them on people or make them feel bad for their choices/beliefs, but it's really, really hard for me to let go of my opinions. And maybe that's okay.

In other news:

• We have 6 new piglets and ohmigawd are they cute
  
• Perp and Dude went to daycamp this month and luuuurved it
• Perp starts 4-K in September. Big girl school!
• Dude has the vocabulary of a 3-4 year old and it's bizarre
• My mom had a great book review for her new kids' book
• We're switching to DirecTV because hey, we have this HD tv that we really can't put to its full use with Dish Network. But DTV doesn't work with TiVo, so we have to use their suck-ass DVR. I'm sure I'll get over it, but I'm not all that happy about it. On the plus: more channels of Absolutely Nothing!
  
• The goats are gone. They went to live on a farm. No, really! They'll be in the county fair this fall and we're going to go visit. But we don't miss them, not even a little.
  
• I'm turning into a fruit bat; I eat at least a pound of cherries a week, plus a pint of raspberries, lots of oranges, and peaches. How I love summer.
  

Still here

really. Just not feeling the posty love. But I'll be back TODAY with something. Husband is at a CLE, so it's just me and the ankle biters from last night to tomorrow morning. So far so good, though Perp woke up with a bug up her ass. Then she had a giant poo and felt much better. Amazing what a dump can do for your outlook, no?

We have high plans for running a few errands but I may just leave it until tomorrow when I go and get my knit on. Saturdays are Daddy Day at Moot Point; I hit the ground staggering, go to a local-ish bagel shop where I can't eat anything, and study. Then I go to the knitting house when they open and spend the day on whatever WIP I have going on. Tomorrow it's finishing Perp's Einstein jacket, then I start Husband's Christmas present. Yes. It's February March. I don't want to talk about it. I also have to get a BSJ out for friends who are having a girl in May. As many times as I've started that damn thing, I should have about seven of them done.

Anyway. More later when if the kids nap.

Perpo and the Man

"Mama, Daddy took me to the bathroom and he used his junk himself!"

Overheard

Perp reading The Little Engine that Could: Once upon a time there was a little choo-choo. "I like to do lots of things. I can go up hills. I wish I could pee."

Urologist-to-be?

Can you hear the howling, Clarice?

Okay, that title will prove to be completely inappropriate, but I kind of like it. Shut up!

Perp was washing her doll, Coyote last night, and I realized, oh my god God, she named her doll Coyote. What the hell? Where on earth did that come from? Then I realized, hell, she already has a doll she named Yes (very popular with the boy dolls), an invisible friend named Trupe/Troop/Troupe (she can't spell it so I don't know), another invisible friend called Commando, an invisible dog named Buster. Quite the stable. She also demands that we role-play. Recently, while under her weird mind control, I spent an hour being Gus, a classmate of hers. I like him. He likes to lie on the floor and pretend to sleep. Imagine the coincidence, so do I!

Go figure.

Elimination diet and the junk-food junkie

It's clear to me that Perp needs to go on a strict elimination diet. Her skin worsens by the day and aside from strawberries and tomatoes, there is no clear trigger. I made the mistake of going back to a scented laundry soap and that is probably a part of the problem, but it's not the only one. I know that Dude's skin improved immeasurably when I took him off wheat (plus he gained a pound in a month!), so I know it's probably going to be worth the effort. But. Ew.

So.

I have a list of foods that she *should* be able to eat safely, but ensuring that she doesn't have anything else is going to be difficult. I'll have to send food to school for a few weeks, and insist that she eat NOTHING else there or at the ILs' place. This may prove to be harder than it looks. I think there are a few things on here I'm going to let her have yet, but if things don't get better within two weeks, I'll cut them out too. Oh, this is going to suck.

The biggest problem, I think, is going to be convincing people that this is necessary and useful. People don't always accept that simple foods, which are supposed to be good for you, after all, could cause her skin to be so bad. But it's true, they could. We know that tomatoes and strawberries make her flare hideously, so why can't other foods? I hope I can make that point without resorting to the "she's my child and I'll decide what's good for her" argument. I'm afraid if I have to make it, that will mean she cannot be in places where people don't respect my decision. Ugh.

On the plus side, I did this with Dude for a couple of months and lost like 15 lb, so it could be great for me to get back on the ED train. Extra oils for the kids, though.

So if you are considering doing an elimination diet, or if you've never heard of it and want to see the weeks of hell before us, here it is, copied and edited from this guy:

Allowed foods
Meat and seafood:
Fresh or fresh frozen lamb

Any type of wild game is acceptable. Deep-water ocean fish such as orange roughy, halibut, tuna, and wild salmon are allowed. All salmon from Alaska is wild.

Turkey is allowable if it is fresh, has not been injected or pre-basted with “butterball” chemicals, is not ground, pressed, or otherwise processed, and has no additives.

Vegetables: sweet potatoes (except that Dude can't have them *sigh*), yams, cabbage, carrots, squash (many varieties), asparagus, cauliflower, avocados, celery, garlic, okra, radishes, greens (beet, mustard, spinach, collards, etc.), cucumbers, eggplant, Brussels sprouts, kale, avocado, broccoli, parsnips, green peppers (not hot pepper or peppery spices), rutabaga, leek, and turnips.

Because wheat, corn, rice, rye, oats, barley, buckwheat, millet, and other grains are common causes of allergy, and because all grains belong to related food families, avoid grains while on this diet. This means you must avoid all breads and other foods made with any kind of flour. Although buckwheat, amaranth, milo and quinoa do not belong to the grain family, many grain sensitive people react to those grain substitutes and they should also be avoided. There is no way to make a sandwich, so get used to it.

Fruit: fresh or fresh frozen fruits (not fruits dried in sugar or packed in sugar or syrup), including bananas, grapes, peaches, pears, pineapple, kiwi, papaya, mangos, melons (watermelon, cantaloupe, honeydew, Crenshaw), cherries, apricots, pomegranates, mangos, coconuts, plums, persimmons, blackberries, blueberries, cranberries, raspberries, or loganberries. Eat only small servings of fruit, as fruits contain lots of natural sugar. Fruit canned in its own juice without sugar or additives are allowed. Avoid fruit juice except in small amounts.

You can eat nuts, including filberts (hazel nuts), almonds, or pecans. Use fresh cracked or nuts still in the shell, not roasted, or otherwise treated. (Peanuts are not nuts despite their name. They are actually legumes. Avoid peanuts.)

You may use safflower oil, sunflower oil, flaxseed oil, sesame oil and extra virgin olive oil. Use only cold pressed oils with no additives, purchased from a natural food source.

For condiments, you may use honey in very small amounts as a sweetener. Stevia is highly recommended as a natural sweetener. (Avoid NutraSweet®, Equal®, aspartame and saccharine, which are artificial chemical sweeteners.) Sea salt is allowed. The allowed oils can be used for cooking and on salads. Chopped nuts (of allowed types), ginger, garlic, cilantro, almond butter, and sesame butter are allowed. Many of the nut butters are processed in the same equipment that makes peanut butter, so read the label for warnings about small amounts of potential allergens.

Foods You Must Strictly Avoid

Strictly avoid: milk, cheese, yogurt, egg, all grains (including corn, wheat, rye, oats, barley, rice), sugar, oranges, grapefruit, legumes, beans, peas, peanuts, beef, chicken, pork, apple, white potato, food colorings, chemical additives, emulsifiers, yeast, preservatives, chocolate, cola, processed and packaged foods, coffee, tea, and alcoholic beverages.

Milk and milk-containing foods: Avoid milk and dairy products entirely, including cheese, butter, ice cream, margarine, yogurt, cream soups, breads, crackers, cookies, cakes, candies, luncheon meats, and other manufactured or processed foods. Casein and lactalbumin are other names for milk protein. Read all labels carefully.

Egg-containing foods: Avoid eggs or any foods containing egg, including custards, cakes, cookies, ice cream, pies, macaroni, salad dressings, noodles, pancake mixes, and all other manufactured or processed foods.

Grain-containing foods: Avoid wheat, corn, rye, barley, rice, and all grains and foods containing grains. This includes all commercial breads, cookies, crackers, cereals, batters, luncheon meats, pancake mixes, candies and a wide variety of other packaged and processed foods.

Citrus: Avoid orange, grapefruit, and foods containing those citrus fruits.

Sugar-containing foods: Avoid cane sugar, beet sugar, corn sugar, fructose, glucose, and brown sugar—including candies, cakes, sugar-coated cereals, ice cream, carbonated beverages, and the wide spectrum of processed and packaged foods which contain sugar. Sugar is hidden in dozens of foods including catsup, pickles, relishe, and salad dressings. Avoid artificially sweetened food or drinks that contain NutraSweet®, Equal® or aspartame. A very small amount of honey is allowed, but sweets are very addicting and it is best to go through a total withdrawal. Stevia is best tolerated as a sweetener.

Legumes: Avoid peanuts, beans and peas of all kinds, including string beans, lima beans, soy beans, baked beans, green peas, field peas, black-eyed peas, and vegetable gums. Soy bean protein ("textured protein") is hidden in a variety of manufactured foods. Read labels carefully.

Chocolate & cola-containing foods: Avoid chocolate and cola drinks of all kinds, including diet cola. Avoid all sweets, candies and foods to which chocolate has been added.

Meats: Avoid all forms of beef, pork and chicken, including luncheon meats, hot dogs, bacon, sausage and hamburger. Avoid all cold cuts. Avoid tenderized, spiced, processed or otherwise treated meat products of any kind. Most shrimp now sold in the USA is farmed in Asia and raised on human waste, antibiotics, etc.)

Fruits & Vegetables: Avoid white potatoes (even if the outside skin is red), French fried potatoes, potato chips and any food containing potato. Avoid tomato, corn, and rice. Avoid fresh, frozen or dried apples, oranges, and foods containing apple or citrus flavoring (which is often an artificial chemical). Avoid any other fruit or vegetable that was regularly eaten more often than once each week in the past.

Yeast-containing foods: Avoid breads, wine, vinegar, mushrooms, and dried fruits. Use only vitamins that are formulated to be yeast-free and hypoallergenic, without chemical additives or preservatives.

Coffee, tea & alcohol: Avoid all coffee and tea products (including instant and caffeine free). Also avoid herbal teas and all alcoholic beverages. Drink pure water, it’s good for you. Carbonated water, unsweetened but with all natural fruit flavor is acceptable.

Condiments: Avoid black, Cayenne. and any kind of hot pepper. Avoid onion, NutraSweet®, Equal® and aspartame, which are artificial chemical sweeteners. Beware of many spices that are mixtures of both labeled and unlabeled ingredients. Stevia as a sweetener is allowed, if a pure extract.

Perpiversary III

Dear P,
You are three years old. Three! Years! Old! THREE! I am honestly not quite sure how that happend. You are only 1. Seriously, it seems like the last time I turned around you were 1 and now you're ... well, you're not.

Your personality continues to evolve, though you are as social as you ever were. Occasionally you will fall back when someone addresses you directly, but you generally flit about the room and chat with anyone who can be lured into a conversation. Generally it's about your birthday. "I'm free in March! But now I'm two! But I'm going to be free. In March!"

For your birthday, your grammy came up and made a gluten-free red velvet cake so that Dude and I could participate in the festivities. It looked like a blood sacrifice reminded me of a crime scene was a bit alarming.












You might even call it scary.

But shocking amounts of fat an artery-clogging combination an über tasty frosting of cream cheese, mascarpone, and cream hid the abbatoir aspect quite nicely. You seemed to appreciate the effort that went into it. At least into the frosting; you never seem too interested in cake or bread if it's covered in something sweet and gooey. If I had a dollar for every peanut butter and jelly sandwich you requested, only to find a denuded piece of bread, well I'd have at least ten bucks.

We are still astonished at your eating habits. There are very few things you won't eat, though you still go through periods of living on air for days at a time. You will request food, then give it a desultory stare and only drink your juice. I should probably cut it out entirely, the juice. I limit it to a few ounces a day, heavily watered, but your father Certain People I know give it to you straight, right out of the box. We run a classy joint here and serve our juice in boxes. Buster Bluth would weep for joy.













You continue to sleep with every toy under the sun. I check on you before I go to bed and there are nights when you barely have enough room for yourself. I suppose surrounding yourself with beloved objects helps you to sleep well -- well enough that you can fall out of bed head-first and not wake up -- but I can't stop myself from clearing you a small plot to curl up in where you won't gash your head open on a sharp corner.

I recently found you with your crayon container over your face. The entire inside was coated with condensation from your sweaty forehead (what is it with your people and the sweating? Is there a toddler that doesn't sleep sweat?). It's a wonder you haven't suffocated. Dammit, I'll get that Mother of the Year certificate yet.















You continue to say the funniest things. We drove past the local carwash recently and you said, "Is that the bathhouse?" Yes. And the cars? they go there to swap fluids willy nilly. Sometimes when we're asleep, ours head over there for an anonymous quickie.

You started school in January. Three days a week you ride in with your father in the morning and I pick you up after naptime in the afternoon. You make art, hear stories, play with friends, all the things you expect preschoolers to do. Best of all, though, you go out into the world and engage it on your own terms. You also get to spend the day with your boyfriend, which pleases you very much. Every morning when you arrive, he runs over to you and you hug and kiss each other. I have offered to bring the paperwork in to cement the relationship but the dowry doesn't seem to be satisfactory. I may toss in a few chickens to try and sweeten the deal.

I regret to say that your love of television continues unabated. It seems to be a meditative experience for you; sometimes we actually have to club you in the head shake you out of your trance turn the tv off to get you to respond to a question.


It's a bit unnerving.












Mostly, though, you are very engaged with the world, and notice things on a regular basis pass unseen right before my eyes. You can never go back and view the world through a child's eyes, but you can borrow them, as it were. It's like having my own service toddler. "Look," you shriek when you see the car dealership, "banoons!!" I never would have noticed them.

The cat continues to adore you unconditionally. I find this hard to fathom given the abuse you pile on her. You sit on her. You pull her tail. You chase her around. But every night, there she is, purring away like a tiny grey Evenrude. The dog is a bit less sanguine, but still remarkably tolerant of her lot in life. I'd sure as shit be pissed if I were in her shoes. Mostly that's my fault, though. Apparently I can only mother one species at a time semi-effectively.















You have started to sing songs that we actually recognize. The current favorite is something about having no bees upon oneself. I shudder at the thought. Given your reluctance to play in the mud or get too dirty, it's kind of funny to hear.

You also love to read. Maybe a bit too much.


I swear to God that is exactly how I found you.


It's been a crazy three years. It seems like only yesterday that you were a little pink lump I could leave on the couch while I lay there unconscious and drooling napped did the dishes.

We can't imagine what life would be without you, big girl.

Love,
Mama

A change gonna come

Masher's body is starting to failing her; she has cataracts on both eyes, and I rather suspect her hearing isn't what it used to be.

Last night Perp was doing her hugkiss routine: "Hugkiss donkey; hugkiss stove; hugkiss piano; hugkiss Masher." Mashy was curled up in her wee bed and Perp clambered over the side to deliver the goods and M lurched up and snapped. One small, single-drop-of-blood scratch and a broken heart. Hard way to end the day, man.

It's totally not the dog's fault, but she's out of the hugkiss circle now.

sigh

Spare a hankie?

God 2, Heathens 1

Husband's parents are devout Catholics. As it is in many homes across this great country of ours, my in-laws begin most meals with a prayer. Perp has learned to sit with her hands in standard prayer position and yell "AMEN!" at the end. I suspect she will be leading the prayer in a few short years. It's remarkably cute and I hope that she is able to develop a framework of faith that gets her through hard times. I really do. I don't ever see it happening to her parents, but it'll be a great way to separate herself from us, heathens that we are.

Imagine my horror (and, I'll admit it, hysterical laughter) when she started shrieking, "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!" whenever, well, whenever she felt like it. The first time was after she discovered that if she tossed her big rubber ball up the stairs it would bounce back down and smack her in the face, if she stood in just the right spot. Oh bliss! oh rapture unforseen!

Lately, it's popping up in odder circumstances. I can't even think of one off the top of my head, sadly. But her inflection is perfect, astonishment mixed with elation, like she's just won the toddler lottery: access to every drawer and cabinet in the house.

Most Saturdays I go to the local yarn shop and attend a stitch & bitch. It's a nice break, we chat and snack and get all crafty and shit. I'm even resurrecting my long-dead aspirations to be a knitter. I'll keep you updated; I konw you're dying to hear about it.

As I was leaving the house, I heard Perp shouting from the bottom of the stairs. It was a chant that I think Husbands parents would swell with pride to hear. Who knows, maybe she'll be leading dinnertime prayer sooner than I thought:

"OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! GOD IS GOOD, AMEN!"

Merry Christmas everybody!

It's her favorite day of the year!