Sour Lemons

We have an amazing Meyer lemon tree in our front yard. We just love having lemons available whenever we want. We use them daily in water, tea, on food and the like. We juice the lemons and make lemon-ice cubes out of them to have them at our disposal when it's not lemon season. The tree produces so many lemons, in fact that, in addition to using them fresh and frozen, we regularly pick a grocery bag full and give them away.

This evening we are having dinner with friends that revel in cocktails for any occasion. We have been indoctrinated to this way of thinking - er, drinking. So today the Little Won and I picked lemons from the tree and juiced them. While he was napping, I made a large batch of Lemon Drops to take to dinner (eight cups worth - not 8 drinks, eight cups - and enoughfor a second batch of 8 cups where that came from). Yum!

I can't waste though, so with the leftover peels, I'm going to follow the recipe below and make dessert. Yum, yum!


Candied Lemon Peels
Recipe found at www.epicurious.com

1 organic lemon, washed well
2 1/2 cups sugar

Use a vegetable peeler to remove the peel from the lemon in vertical strips. Try to remove only the yellow zest, avoiding as much of the white pith as possible. Save the lemon for another use.

In a small saucepan, combine the peels with 2 cups cold water. Bring to a boil, then drain off the water. Again add 2 cups cold water, bring to a boil, and drain. Repeat the process a third time, then remove the peels from the pan and set aside.

Measure 2 cups of the sugar into the pan and add 1 cup water, whisking until the sugar dissolves. Add the peels and bring to a boil over medium heat. Reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer, uncovered, until the peels are tender and translucent, 10 to 15 minutes. Drain the peels and let cool.

Measure the remaining 1/2 cup sugar into a medium bowl and add the peels. Toss to coat. Using a fork or your fingers, remove the peels one at time, gently shaking each to remove excess sugar. Store in an airtight container. The peels will keep for several weeks.

Makes about 2 tablespoons.

When Wood Has A Baby...

It's a Twig. Therefore Won is also Twig.

Best, Worst, and Moving On

What was the best day of your life? You know, the day that you never expected or the day that you thought would be tough but turned out to be amazing. The event or series of moments where you felt that you were in your element, on your game, and enjoyed yourself beyond belief?

For me it was the day I married Hubbie (aka: Wood).

In contrast to that, what was the worst day of your life? The most horrible, awful, gut wrenching day which you were sure that you would never survive? Or looking back, the event or day that when you replay it and understand the consequence, wonder if you will survive its outcome? Or at least it's potential outcome?

I'm not sure I've had it yet. But if I had to choose one, I'd have to say it was the day that my behavior altered the way that Wood and I relate to each other. It was the day that I yelled at him out of fear, loneliness, and a dark postpartum depression, and with no real provocation. It changed him and it changed me. It makes me sad because I am the cause of our bad communication patterns. Don't get me wrong, I am not, not, not saying that I am alone in this periodic communication breakdown. We both behave badly on occasion. But I started it.

Now we work toward going back to the pre-family days of easy communication, rested bodies, fulfilled social lives, and blissful ignorance. It's hard work. Maybe that's why it's called committment.

Stuff

Won has had a low-grade fever for the past couple of days. With a butt rash, drooling, waking in the middle of the night, and not wanting to brush his teeth, I'd bet he's getting those two year molars.

He has gone to sleep the past two nights without me in his bed. It's much better to have a sore heiny from sitting on hardwood than being kicked in the kidneys, any day.

Hubbie says I'm obsessed with writing - hunting and pecking he calls it. It's probably because every time I'm near the computer he says "what are you doing?" as if it's something I shouldn't be doing.

Writing is helping me to get stuff off of my chest - for good - so I'm going to keep doing it. And I've been thinking that I should or could be writing about some family stuff. Like meeting my dad when I was 11 years old at a restaurant in Southland Mall, our relationship, our estrangement, his recent death and the funky feelings that go along with all of that. Maybe in story form. Maybe not. Something to think about. Certainly a way of getting away from the oral history getting lost. Won may be interested someday and my memory already fails me.

Right now, sleep beckons me. The gunk is still going around and I can't afford to get it again any time soon.

New Job - Week One

It feels like the employment stars have aligned themselves in my favor, finally. It's only been a week, and a short one at that, and I feel like it's a good job that I'm going to like for a while.

My boss is spending lots of time training me. Uncommon in most places of work. In my opinion, very good and vital to ensure long-term success (for the employee and supervisor) in reaching common values and goals. He's giving me important information on interpersonal relationships among co-workers. He seems to genuinely be a good person and seems to do the right thing, even in hard times. I semi-trust him. My experience tells me to be cautious in this regard.

My co-workers are interesting. I'm taking my cues from them as to how to behave - not too close, not too distant is my goal. They aren't overly communicative or friendly (at this point). In fact, none of them say "hello" in the morning, or "bye" when they leave. This is strange to me. I guess I could be described as "social-service-ey" in this regard (there are probably better descriptions for this type of interpersonal/social behavior of mine - I'd love to hear your thoughts). Actually, now that I think about it, my mom had major issues about people presenting themselves when entering or saying goodbye. It would totally piss her off if someone didn't. Needless to say, it's hard for me to enter or leave the office without greeting the people I am 40 feet from for 8+ hours per day. But, do as the Romans do, no?

My office is a disaster. It seems that my predecessor never filed anything and recycled and/or purged even less frequently. He was in his position for more than 3 years. I have had to clean up a bit - the clutter makes me feel claustrophobic. Three days of reading, reviewing, and organizing for 8 hours per day last week, and there's still the better part of a week's worth of work to be done to get it semi-functional- I'll post a photo of how things looked at the end of the first week in a couple of days. The process has been good in that I have read things that were private. Cards, draft emails, etc. This may very likely give me a bit of an edge in developing good boundaries with the people that I have to develop working relationships with. I've seen into the eye of the storm, and am somewhat armed, so to speak.

I've got lots of work on my plate already. It doesn't seem like it's going to be a difficult job in terms of the actual work I'll be doing - once I understand all that needs to be done. It's just that it's not been done for a while so I have a bunch of catching up to do. It's going to take a while.

I haven't personalized my office at all. I'm thinking that I may not. I'm thinking that the photo of Hubbie and Won and any other personal items will be kept in my drawer... only for me to see. Maybe that will help with compartmentalizing work vs. home vs. friends, etc. and help me to keep my professional distance, boundaries, etc. what with the reportedly challenging colleagues and all. Hopefully those challenges will not be too tough to overcome and the workload not to heavy. I think I can do good things here.

Just before the job started, Hubbie and I had a long heart-to-heart conversation about sharing workloads during the second shift. After months and months of conversation, he finally agreed (begrudgingly, but I'll take what I can get) to pick up Won from daycare every day of the week! This has lifted a huge burden off of me - he's really helping out a whole bunch more in terms of kid care and household responsibilities (and I know I've got it pretty darned good in this department)! Turns out he was resisting (pick up) for reasons even he isn't aware of but doesn't want his family to be secondary to everything else in his life. It's such a tough transition, this whole married, white picket fence, and 2.5 kids thing. Sure am glad I married him. Some people I know don't got it so good.

Regardless of all of the wonderful things happening I probably won't be able to write and post as frequently as I'd like in the coming weeks and/or months. Working, compartmentalization, two year old, cooking, cleaning, sleeping and such might get in the way a little bit. But know I'm thinking of you often, and would love to tell you more.

The Upside

Is that Won fell asleep in about 15 minutes. It's 7:30pm and I'm still awake. That's rare.

Child Clearly Understands Who Is In Control

Yesterday, after more than two hours of fighting for a nap, Won was driven to sleep by Papi. It only took about 5 minutes at 65mph and he was successfully transferred into the house without waking, too!

When they got home from their excursion, I was writing my anger and frustration away, hoping that once I saw Won asleep, I'd be able to relax enough to visit with Papi. It took a while longer for me to get it out of my system (and I needed to do a few edits). Turns out in addition to refusing to sleep, he's now learned to sense any degree of affection which I or Hubbie intend to direct toward the other. And interrupts us.

An episode each of Charlie and Lola and Sesame Street were the order of the day after only 60 minutes of sleep (which, in my opinion, was nowhere near enough because he's only sleeping about 9 hours per night when it's normally 12). Hubbie talked me down - Won was beside himself crying for something - helped me realize that this was the only way we would have a few minutes to ourselves and that there was no sense in fighting it. Even though I completely agreed with him, it took me the better part of Charlie and Lola to relax. This is pissing me off.

I feel like the weekend nap issue is a major battle of wills. Won naps at school. Actually, Won lays down on a mat on the floor and puts himself to sleep at school. Every day of the fucking school week. At home, I can't get this kid to relax if I gave him the boob, drugs, or a really good knock on the head (none of which I would do, of course). I feel like I'm doing something oh so wrong here. We try to be kid centric. We try to keep him engaged. We try to keep on a schedule like at school. We take him to swimming lessons in the morning on Saturdays. We take him to the kid park in the morning on Sundays. We do kid stuff. We play playdough. We read books. We have fun. Obviously not enough fucking fun. Obviously not enough parental control. He'd never hit his teachers at school and refuse to lay down for a nap. But with me or Papi? It doesn't matter what we do - more activity, less activity, earlier nap, later nap, less sleep, more sleep - NOTHING.

It's reminiscent of all of the other battles that we have except that here I have no leverage. Its reminiscent of all of the other battles that we have in that I do everything in my power to stay in control. Take things away with no major inflections in my voice. Be clear and swift. Strong and loving. And approach every day and every occasion as if it were the first time. I think about my approach and tactics before the event. But with nap, everything I've tried: Stay on the bed and the door will stay open; Be soft and gentle (e.g. no hitting and/or kicking) and I will stay in bed with you; Or, if you hit and/or kick you are not invited in my bed, get out; Stay in bed and you can have that toy; and the list of preferred behavior versus consequence of bad behavior conversation topics goes on, but doesn't work.

So this afternoon I call my mom and ask her when she's coming to visit her grandson (she'd asked this morning if she could) and she says she doesn't know. I explain that we've been trying to get a nap for 3 hours. She says she would have stopped after 1 and gone to have fun. I explain that he's two years old and needs a nap or he's a jerk (as he's trying to hurt the dog in the background). I explain that he takes a nap every day at school. She asks why we don't put him in the car. I explain that he goes to sleep on his own at school. She says she's got to go.

I understand why some parents beat their children and why some children hate their parents (I am opposed to the former and don't want the latter). These are the days that I realize how much underestimated my ability to get beyond my stuff so that I could be a good parent and raise a good human being. That's just one reason we're not interested in having more kids.

My mom just got here.

Any advice?

What a Willful Beast We Have Spawned!!

Weekends are what we all look forward to. During the week, while we work - and even if we don't, that is. Only 4 days into my new gig and I'm already back into the usual 'can't wait until the weekend' mode. It's sort of what we're all programmed to do, right?

Even as a full-time stay-at-home-mom, I relished weekends . I frankly couldn't wait for Papi to be home and take over a little bit of kid-care, visit with friends and family, and to do a couple of fun things around town.

Why are weekends so damned important? Because we get to 'catch up' on sleep. Or that's what I did for more than 30 years before I had my little Won. Now, sleep on the weekends is for not. Well, that's not entirely true. NAP TIME ON THE WEEKENDS IS FOR NOT.

The little Won's daycare/pre-school provider, hereinafter referred to as "school", miraculously transformed my non-napper into a daily, routine napper. During the week he takes a nap at school at the same time every day, for several hours.

The weekends, however, suck when it comes to nap. The little Won fights and fights and fights going to sleep. I am so (excuse my language) FUCKING tired of it I can hardly contain myself sometimes. It seems like nothing we do works. Nothing. It's infuriating because the little Won always wins the fight. Little shit.

Here's how our weekend usually works:

6am wake, roll around in bed for a while
7am get up get dressed, eat breakfast, gather needed gear
7:30am, get coffee and muffin, take the dog to the park
9am arrive home or spend a couple of hours running errands, going to the kid park, having a playdate, going swimming at the Y
11:30am arrive home, eat lunch
12:30pm retire to little Won's room for regular routine of:

1. a fresh one (diaper)
2. conversation about the going to sleep process
3. several stories/books

1pm lights out
1pm-3pm attempting to utilize psychological warfare techniques to force him to relax on his bed long enough to close his eyes and fall asleep (he has never gone to sleep without me or Papi laying down with him). At night we use the house is dark, Mom & Pop are going to sleep, too, etc. routine but nap requires something all together different. What exactly it is, I do not know. The warfare techniques that we currently employ include:

• Allowing him to choose one quiet toy to take to nap with him;
  
• Creating interest in some toy, usually a stuffed animal, to use to get him back on the bed when he's on his way off:

"Won, it's mine".
"No, Mommy!"
"Won, you can have it if you lay down".
"Okay."

• Unscrewing the light bulb to the table lamp next to his bed so he can't turn the light back on in an attempt to stay awake;
• Using blackout shades to darken the room - in all of the rooms upstairs so no light seeps into his room;
• Placing a "child safety" door thingy on the inside doorknob of his room so that he can't leave his room if he gets off of the bed;
• Removing all of the child size chairs, tables, etc. that he can't move and climb up on to turn on the bedroom overhead light;
• Removing all of the toys of interest from the room;
• Providing sleepytime tea, water, milk, or other drink requests and allowing them to stay in his room for the duration of sleep time; and
  
• Pretending to be asleep regardless of any conversation or other physical manifestations of unwillingness to sleep that may present;

Sometimes that works but more often than not it doesn't. We're usually still at it after about 1.5-2 hours. And NO, skipping nap is NOT an option. Won is an absolute Pill if he doesn't get a nap - he runs around hitting the dog, kicking the cat, spitting on me or Papi, tearing the house apart. When he's overtired, no amount of playdough, stickers, fingerpaints, sand, or coloring will keep him occupied. He just runs from room to room being a freak. I feel I'm in a real quandary when this happens. Don't fight the nap and I have a child that with a little practice could be a real sociopath. Fight it and I want to commit child, spouse, or self abuse. But I digress, by 'at it' I mean, trying to keep him on the bed, being hit, kicked, yelled at and ready to lose my mind. WITH NO SLEEP.

Needless to say, I tend to get tired out by this process. So the physical manifestations of an unwillingness to sleep tend to win out. These manifestation include but are not necessarily limited to: breast groping, hair pulling, eye gouging, hitting (the face), kicking (the kidneys are best), and head butting while I pretend to be asleep. I do my best to pretend that these things are not happening but after two plus hours of figting it and trying to protect myself from physical harm while not moving (because I'm supposed to be asleep, after all), I often get really pissed, yell a little bit, slam a door and then let him get up (I know these techniques haven't been proven by research to be totally effective 100% of the time - at least to get the results I'm after). But I'm fucking spent. On the other days, after more than two hours of both of us trying, we try the car. My reasoning is that it's only for nap. Today Papi put him in the car and he fell out in less than 5 minutes at 65mph. He was so overtired that Papi even successfully transferred him into the house with no problem. These are not typical results.

The other problem with having no nap is that Papi and I don't get any quiet time together. It's really important that we get this few minutes of 1:1 time occasionally. Now that I think about it, Won is asleep!

Gotta go!

Weaning Questions

How long will it take for my body to stop producing milk?

Upon weaning, how long will it take for my breast size to reduce to pre-pregnancy size (or smaller)?

How difficult is it to get the body started again once milk production has ended?

Should I expect plugged ducts, leaking, etc. along the way?

Are there any other things to consider?

Happy Birthday Mami!

The little won has not nursed, nor had a tantrum about not nursing, since last wednesday (2/7/07). He seems to be over it.

Birthdays at his pre-school are quite a big deal. It's an all day celebration, in fact. The kid whose day it is is literally in the spotlight all day. They get a "happy birthday" banner on the entry gate to the school that has been lovingly decorated by all of the children, they wear a special crown that was made by the teachers and kids, they sit in a special birthday chair at the head of the table, they get cake, games, and just about anything else they want, for the entire day. The little won loves birthday parties, even when it's someone else's.

When the little Won turned two (back in September), I decided that if he didn't do it on his own, I was going to require him to be done with the Chi Chi's by my birthday. My birthday is in May. "Six months," I proclaimed to my Hubbie, "should be enough time for him to self-wean. If not, I'm going to force the issue." He glanced at me and asked "Why wait so long? You seem to be finished with it." I explained that I feel like it should be something he's ready to give up. Why force him to be more mature (or whatever) before he's ready? I want him to be confident that he'll get his needs met and if the boob makes him feel that way, then fine. On the other hand, I'm sick of it. So, we're going to start talking about it and by the time my birthday rolls around, he should be one with the decision. So, I announced to the little won and just about everyone in the fold: "When it's Mommy's birthday we're going to have cake. I'm going to make a wish and blow out the candle, and my wish is going to come true!" Somewhere along the way, I decided that my birthday may come a little bit earlier than in years past. But whenever someone asked me when my birthday was, I said that I wasn't sure yet. I never said out loud to anyone other than Hubbie and other breastfeeding-positive-friends-or-associates that I really want the little won to be ready and not be forced to give it up.

Since he's been doing so great with not nursing however, I decided that we're gonna run with it. Despite my concerns that he has yet to get his 2 year molars, that he is always soothed by the boob in the middle of the night when in pain or really sick, and that my job is going full-time tomorrow, we're going to have a celebration after dinner tonight. Two bite brownies with frosting on top. We'll top it off with a candle, sing happy birthday and remind the little won that now he's a big boy and that he doesn't get Chi Chi's any more. He'll say it with such fervor, I'll smile and give him a big hug. It's such a milestone, we'll take a family photo.

I'm going to get my tears out of the way now.

Two Days and Counting

I'm still feeling yucky. My stomach isn't treating me very well - especially in the evenings - and unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to it. The only thing I could surmise from the last two evenings is that at each evening meal I had a little bit (like a swig) of alcohol. Guess I won't be doing that again any time soon.

In addition to the crappy stomach flu (no pun intended), I now have a head cold that is making it hard to breathe. It doesn't seem to be the same thing that my Sister and Nephew has - and that my 10 month old nephew has been in the hospital with for almost a week now. It seems more like the crud my little won has had in his nose for a week or so. It's slowing me down a bit...

The good news is that my 2.4 year old hasn't breastfed for two full days! I'm not exactly following the prescribed 'don't offer, don't refuse" advice of LLL, but I'm not exactly setting the agenda for breastfeeding cessation either. Don't get me wrong, the breastfeeding experience has been difficult from the beginning and I've practially wanted to stop from the moment we began. However, as you've probably gathered from this blog thus far, I'm a bit conflicted about many things that this wonderful life has to offer. Well, conflicted might not be the best descriptor. It's probably more like too aware of and willing to consider all of the options and such. However, regarding breastfeeding: I've merely been setting limits as to the time and location of nursing. Not at daycare, in the car, or away from home. Only once per day, after we do blah, blah, blah.... He seems to forget his request once we are doing other things like getting ready for bed or reading books. And with no major meltdowns, either.

I am feeling very good about the prospect of having my breasts back to myself (and to my husband). I think it's because it's been such a difficult road (I'll sit and write about my pregnancy, labor, delivery, difficulties breastfeeding, and 2 years of postpartum depression some other time) . And even though this has been rough, the thought of the little won and I being separate in that sense is a bit sad. I know he is getting bigger and in some ways more independent. I have no silly notions that he will stop needing me in many other ways for a long, long time to come (I actually relish the idea that we will continue to need me in different ways for the rest of his life). He's not potty trained, he still sleeps with me and his Papi most of the time, can't get dressed by himself, or cook his own meals yet, and crossing the street alone is pretty much out of the question (you don't say, he's only two?). So despite my feeling a bit conflicted I'm glad it's been two days and wonder how this will continue to progress. I know it's potentially going to increase before it ceases completely.

I'll keep you posted.

You can get the image above on a t-shirt for your little won at www.tshirthell.com/babyhell.shtml

Current Terror Alert Level

How did you sleep last night?

The new gig starts tomorrow and I feel a bit frozen. There are a thousand and one things that wanted to be done before the beginning of this new chapter but life has gotten in the way.

The awful case of the stomach flu was so awful that I didn't really eat until Tuesday. That's nearly 3 full days without food, people. In my world, Food is something that is to be enjoyed at all times. I live to shop for food, cook food, and eat food. Problem is, the flu is actually still hanging on a little bit. Sometimes I can feel the food is digesting. I know exactly where it is in my intestines because they scream "NOOOOO!" and all I can think is "please, no more". As if that's not bad enough, the back pain hasn't gone away at all - what with fighting a two year old here and there to change his diaper and such. Ice usually helps it but not right now. During the day it's okay but not at night.

The little won's bedtime routine starts at about 7pm with lights out at somewhere around 8pm. By 12:30am, I'm off to my bed wondering, as I drag myself the 25 feet from his bed to mine, how long will he sleep without joining me to put his foot in my back, fingers in my cheeks, or sharp fingernails on my breasts? It feels good to be in my bed. I fall asleep pretty quickly.

He wakes me at about 2am screaming for something that I'd love to give but have no patience or energy for... "NO MOMMY NOT YOUR BED, MY BED!" I begrudgingly go to his bed. "NO RED BLANKET, NO MOMMY!". I begrudgingly give up my favorite red blanket that my granny made. Soon enough I can hear my sweet baby breathing regular breaths into his pillow. Every now and again he wakes and yells "NO, MOMMY!", caresses my face, searches for my breasts (which I guard feircly), and then falls back into his deep slumber.

Now that I'm awake, the back pain, stress, an overactive mind, a new cold that makes my nose full and my head throb, combined with the snoring conversation make it hard to settle back down to sleep. It's after 2am.

Eventually, I give in to the pain, go downstairs, find water and take medicine and warm up the heating sack. I climb the stairs and stand in the hallway between the two bedrooms, listening and wondering... Where do I go? I don't want to be groped and hit anymore tonight but I don't want to ask Hubbie to sleep on his side either. I go to the baby's bed.

My head throbs. My back makes me whince. I toss and turn. I can't get comfortable but I use all of my energy to listen. When I'm sure that Hubbie isn't snoring so loudly that it will make me focus on it rather than relaxing into to sleep, I head back to the Eastern King size bed that has flannel sheets, an oversized down comforter, and a warm man in it. I add to the mix a throbbing head and heating pad that has sweet smells in it. Once I settle in, I realize that my stomach hurts too. It is nearly 4am. Two hours to go before the alarm sounds. How many times will I wake between now and then? What will it be? Snoring, screaming, or singing? None of the above. The alarm never went off and it's 7am before the little Won tip toes into my room saying "Mom? Hi, Mom. Did you have a good sleep, Mom?" as if nothing ever happened last night.

Last night wasn't the first bad night of rest this week... The frozen feeling is likely a result of the rain and lack of sleep.

Tylenol & Toast

The list isn't going to get done. No way, no how. My diet for the past several days has consisted of water, dry toast, chicken broth, white rice, and Tylenol. Huh? The stomach flu and a bad back. Yep, it started last week while I was painting and reared it's ugly head to the point that I could not finish the project. Could not pick up the little won from day care, could not drop the little won off at day care, could not feed the little won, could not do anything. I'll spare you the gory details, but suffice it to say that it absolutely sucks to have such a flu when other people around you are eating delicacies such as sweet potato pudding, buffalo wings, asparagas wrapped in bread with parmesan cheese, gourmet chinese food, steak, amazing soup - you get the picture - while I'm stuck in the bathroom wishing that I could eat without excruciating pain as a repurcussion. Superbowl or not, I'm really hungry...

The good part of the story is that I've been getting lots of sleep and have seen a bunch of movies I wouldn't have otherwise stopped to watch. Hubbie helped a whole bunch. Thank God for him. Don't know what I'd do without him.

Gonna get to movies, more tylenol, and toast.

I am a Generous Leader.

While I was absolutely infuriated with my two year old who wouldn't take a nap, I took a time out reading random blogs and found this personal DNA link. I took the test and read about myself based upon my answers. I found the results pretty darned true to how I view myself.

Check it out at:
My Personal Dna Report