Saturday, April 30, 2011

Kale Chips and other food subterfuge

In the eternal battle to get Bubba to actually eat a vegetable, I think I'm losing. The only actual veggie he's eaten since turning two is one slice of a pickled beet on Easter. Yes, you read that right...pickled beet. Who knew?! He doesn't eat fries, or carrots, or green beans or peas. I've hidden veggies in brownies, yogurt smoothies, meatballs, and chicken nuggets. I've bought yogurt that has veggies pre-hidden. I've bought juice with veggies mixed in. The only daily serving of veggies he gets is the one from his can of Chef Boy R Dee Spaghetti-O's as far as I can tell.

So, I keep hearing about how kids LOVE these Kale Chips everyone is making. I figure why not, $1.05 = 1 pound of Kale at my grocery store. Even if he doesn't eat them we didn't break the bank right? Ok, and $8 for some decent Parmesan to put on top of them. So 9 dollars worth of chips now. Sounding less enticing. Throw in the olive oil and kosher salt (which of course we already have) and I'm figure $10 ish for a bag of what are supposed to taste like potato chips. Yikes.

As Bubba sleeps I wash and tear and coat and bake Kale. Kale is kind of smelly if you want my opinion; like roasting Brussels sprouts. It takes 15 minutes, so in the meantime I eat a fluffer-nutter sandwich. Yet another thing I just can't believe Bubba won't eat. I take them out and boy are they tasty. Salty (maybe a little too, but Bubba will like that) and crispy and oily. Yum.

When Bubba wakes up, the truth will tell. In the meantime I assure everyone he'll actually eat a salad before leaving for college (well, maybe.)!

Friday, November 12, 2010

Adventures in Potty Training

Today we spent almost the whole day diaper free. That's right folks, Bubba said he wanted underpants so I went with it. We went to the grocery accidents. We went to the accidents. We came home and took a nap and the potty gods smiled on accidents. Shortly after waking up, Bubba sat on the potty. We read 3 books, then he said all done and pulled up his "unnerwear" and we left the bathroom. About 30 seconds later we had an accident. No big deal, we changed into clean underwear and pants and went to play. Still doing great only one accident. After dinner, we have the following conversation:

Bubba: "Poopin!"
Me: "Lets go sit on the potty!! Come On!"
Bubba: "No! No Potty....need diaper. Gotta Poop."

I'm not sure if this is really a set back, or progress. I do know I'll save a ton in diapers if he keeps it up.

Tell me readers! What are your adventures in potty training?

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Boys are....well....Boys!

This morning as Bubba and I were leaving the house I was struck once more by the genetic difference between boys and girls. We were walking through the garage past the convertible on our way to the family truckster to get our day underway when Bubba stopped. He pointed to the convertible and said "No Mommy! Zoom...that one!" so we took the convertible instead of the truckster.

As a female, during life before Bubba, I heard people with boys say "they're just boys" or "that's just how boys are" and would always think to myself how really different can they be? Now, as the mother of a boy, I see vast differences that truly are ingrained in a boys psyche. Bubba has a cousin about the same age, and a girl, and especially when the two of them are together the differences are noticeable.

As a boy he makes his presence known, no matter what. He will use a stick or any other item for that matter as a knife, a bat, and/or a gun. No one showed him that...he just deep down primal knew it. If given a pile of toys, he'll gravitate to a ball or a car before a puzzle or a shape sorter. This isn't to say that he never plays with dolls, or never plays with puzzles, but only after playing cars or balls for awhile. Boys are instinctually physical too. He delights in literally throwing his weight around.

In any case, moms of both, moms of boys, and moms of girls, have you noticed these genetic codes in your own kids?

Monday, August 30, 2010

Bento is Fun!

Bubba has become a bit of a picky eater surviving mostly on chicken nuggets, spaghetti-o's, cheese, and fruit. Not the worst diet I guess, but we're trying to get him to branch out. My plan is make food cute. Who doesn't want to eat cute food? In that vein, I'm attempting Bento and here's my very first bento box.

Chicken and Cheese Stars (because I know he'll at least eat some lunch then. These I made with a little aluminum food cutter. Super easy to use and really cute in the end.

Next, I molded him a hard boiled egg shaped like a bunny and painted it with food coloring. To make the egg you need an egg mold, then you put the warm egg in the mold and chill. This is a previously rejected food, so I'm hoping the cute factor gets his attention. I put the egg into a cupcake paper left over from Easter that had eggs and bunnies on it. Then surrounded it with apples and grapes.

Here was the completed Bento. Unfortunately, chicken requires ketchup so I need to find some cute little cups to put condiments in.

And here's the box. Frogs are a favorite right now.

What do I think of Bento? That I'm an addict, and probably a complete nut. Honestly, do kids need cute food? Probably not, but what fun!

Monday, August 16, 2010

I made my own Yogurt ---- And it was Good!

So readers, I officially made Yogurt in my Crockpot. It took me two attempts and was a real science project, but this morning when I woke up, I had a warm and yummy Crockpot full of homemade yogurt. I was directed to the recipe here: and on first attempt what I made more closely resembled cottage cheese and lacked the tang of yogurt, so I researched how to make yogurt and tried to figure out where I went wrong. A lot of effort you might think for something like yogurt, but we eat a lot of it and now I can control exactly what goes in it.

My first attempt followed the times on the recipe, and the result was less than appealing. It was lumpy and there was more whey than lumps. It tasted like sour milk, but not tangy like yogurt. I figured that my milk was too hot when I added my starter yogurt, but because I didn’t temp anything I had no idea by how much. So I tried again.

Take 2 was infinitely more successful. I used Whole Organic milk, pasteurized but not ultra-pasteurized. Apparently, from my research, ultra-pasteurized does not have enough bacteria to culture. I also used Stoneyfield Farms 2% plain yogurt, I would have used Whole here too but the store I went to didn’t carry it. I used the temperature probe on my Crockpot to heat my milk to 180 degrees. Then I turned it off. My Crockpot took a full hour longer to cool to anywhere close to 110 degrees, and I lost patience at 113 degrees and without measuring anything whisked together some of my milk and starter yogurt. Then I put it all back in my Crockpot and wrapped it in a down blanket overnight.

This morning I was pleasantly surprised to open my Crockpot to a beautiful sort of pudding like substance with a slight sheen of green whey on top. I used a few paper towels to soak up the whey and then tasted my masterpiece – I was surprised by how mild it was and how tasty warm yogurt is! I scooped out my yogurt into Tupperware and its chilling in my fridge now. I honestly felt like an idiot when the first batch didn’t turn out. Nomads made yogurt over a fire, so why couldn’t I in my kitchen. I’m very glad I persisted and yogurt making may become part of my weekend routine! The best part is I didn't even need a yogurt maker.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Bubby 1: Mommy 0

By now I'm sure you're all wondering how the Bedtime Wars are going. I wanted to come back and post a victory, and we really were so close, but alas I'm no longer sure. Over the last week we've had a pretty even split of no crying and crying nights but its so unpredictable. Here's the score:

Thursday: No Crying
Friday: Complete Melt Down
Saturday: No crying followed by a complete meltdown requiring a car ride to go to sleep
Sunday: No Drama at all
Monday: He figured out that he doesn't have to cry at all.

Thus Bubba 1, Mommy 0.

Because he's not quite 2 years old, and because I prefer even mangled English to ear piercing screams and kicking, I always and without fail respond to "Momma Please." I know this is not really a declarative sentence, but if you've ever had a not quite two year old you'd realize that even questions sound declarative and often lack a subject, verb and/or interrogative.

So tonight, Monday Night, Bubba went down without a fuss. Waited 5 or 6 minutes then called out "Momma Please." I, as I always do when he behaves so grown up, went and submitted to his will. 45 minutes later, he's asleep. We sang, we rocked, we lay in my bed, we rocked some more. He dozed, woke up and said random names and words completely out of context, then dozed some more. I tried to put him in his bed, "Momma No Night Night." Ummmm Ok, we rocked some more. Bubba glared up at me, eyes rolling back in his head, before finally passing out completely, dropping the Kermit the Frog and Fozzy Bear he'd been clutching the entire time, and allowed me to lay him in his own bed.

Yup, I'm pretty sure that makes the score Bubba 1 and Mommy zero.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

The Bedtime Wars

I have been blessed with a child who has always gone to bed without a fight...until now. Somehow my adorable baby who used to ask to go to bed, who actually used to walk to his bedroom of his own volition and ask to go night night, has vanished and now fights to stay up regardless of how exhausted he is. At this very moment I can hear him slamming the lid to his hamper over and over deciding that his whine fest wont work. He practices his whiny faces in the mirror we have for him in the car to get them just right. If I could take video and drive I would because it is one of the funniest things I've ever seen. He hasn't yet climbed out of his crib, but if the bedtime wars continue I suspect it wont be long before he does.

He currently takes an entire menagerie to bed with him including a Curious George, a Nemo, a stuffed Dog and a Grover. He requires two blankets, one to scrunch up and one to lay under. He sucks his thumb and now he slams the hamper lid on his way out. My problem is he's stubborn. He comes by it honestly, his father and I are as stubborn as they come. I suppose when he's successful we'll call it tenacity, for now I just call it sleepy.