the birds and the bees and the doctors
We got the question at dinner tonight. You know the one. We were talking about women having babies and then Zoe asks the obvious next question, “how do you get a baby?” I wanted to leave it at a woman gets pregnant, Chris tried to make a joke, but Zoe was having none of it, “no really, how do you get a baby?”
I prefaced it with the idea that there are a few different ways that a person or family can have a baby, and then tried to give her the simple, but accurate explanation of the most common way that, well, pregnancies get started.
“Did you do that?” she asks me. ”Well, we did for Hazel, but for you, we had to go to the doctor.”
“Why?” was the obvious follow-up. She’s good at asking follow up questions. In retrospect, it’s surprising she hasn’t asked about this before. ”Things weren’t quite working right, we had to take some medicine, I even needed shots.”
“I hate medicine!” she says. She just had surgery for ear tubes and adenoidectomy, and the prescribed pain killers made her feel really unpleasant, so she’s particularly anti-medicine at the moment. ”And the only thing I like about shots are that they help you, that’s all!” So we bonded a bit over our dislike of shots and medicine and the conversations quickly moved on to easier topics like stickers which of course led to a conversation on voting and politics.
cool vs pretty
Spring has come early this year. In fact, it feels like winter hardly had a chance. So we had our first dinner outside. Nothing fancy: chicken, cauliflower, frozen blueberries that left our fingers purple-stained.
In between handfuls of blueberries, Zoe pipes up: “P [a boy at daycare] told me today about the difference between boy shoes and girl shoes.”
“Oh?” I say, “what did he tell you?”
“He told me that boy shoes are cool and girl shoes are pretty.”
I open my mouth the respond, but Zoe keeps talking, “and I was like, ‘what the heck, P? I think T [another boy at school] has pretty shoes, and your shoes are pretty, and all the girls have really cool shoes!’”
I had nothing more to add.
of science and cats
This morning, Zoe comes to us and tells us she learned some new things about our cats, that they don’t like orange things and they don’t like balloons. When we asked how she learned this, she said she’d taken her orange balloon and held it in front of the cat’s face, and the cat walked away – this is the cat that loves Zoe and puts up with all sorts of, hmm, affection from her, so the cat walking away was atypical behavior. Chris suggested that she run the experiment again with something not orange and not a balloon, to see if it was just holding something in front of the cat’s face. So she tried it with a stuffed lion. Yep, cat walked away. I suggested we test something orange that isn’t a balloon. Zoe grabbed a pumpkin. The cat ran downstairs.
We need to work with her on her experimental design.
clearing the fridge of zucchini: summer squash pesto
For years now, we’ve done a farm share, which has worked well, except for the abundance of summer squash that inevitably hits right around the end of August. No matter how bad a season may be, and this season was pretty harsh to our farm, there always seems to be more than enough zucchini, patty pans, crooknecks, and other variations on those themes. Especially more than enough since I seem to be the only one in the family that likes to eat it straight. Unlike winter squashes – which we’re also getting a good collection of – the summer squash has to be refrigerated, and doesn’t last so long, so this year, I started trying to come up with strategies to use it up.
One idea I came across online was a summer squash pesto, which is pretty much what it sounds like: a pesto recipe with pureed summer squash thrown in. I decided to use this as an opportunity to use up a lot of the herbs that we’d gotten with our farm share, too (including tarragon, rosemary, parsley, sage, of course pesto, and probably a few others). And I didn’t have pine nuts or walnuts, so I used some almonds I had in the cupboard. So “pesto” may be a strong word for what I ended up with, but it’s a really nice sauce, and the best part is that you can get so much summer squash in to it. The summer squash adds a really nice creamy sweetness, but it’s not a strong enough flavor to overpower the other flavors. I’ve made two batches, in the first, I de-seeded the squash, but with the second, I only removed seeds from the squashes that had the really large seeds.
So sort of recipe for summer squash pesto – I’m really bad at keeping track of amounts:
- olive oil – a couple of tablespoons
- garlic (this can handle a lot of garlic), I think I used a small head of strong garlic.
- assorted herbs, as much as you can get
- slivered almonds, maybe half a cup
- variety of summer squash, any large seeds removed, pretty much as much as will fit in the food processor
- shredded parmesan cheese, maybe a cup
- salt to taste
1. Toss the garlic, herbs, almonds and olive oil in to the food processor and process until smooth.
herbs, garlic, almonds, and olive oil
2. Add the squash and puree again until smooth.
summer squash (some of it was shredded first, but that's not necessary) added to the bowl with the processed herbs, garlic, and almonds
3. Mix in the parmesan and salt to taste.
final "pesto"
So given the amount of squash, the pesto is a lighter color, and creamier than is traditional in a pesto. I froze both batches in ice cube trays. I’ve tossed a cube in with a bowl of pasta or spaghetti squash for an easy meal. I’ve added a cube or two in tomato sauces, in fact, I have a tomato sauce simmering on the stove right now with 5 cubes in the sauce. I know that I’ll use it in soups this winter.
1-2-3-4-5
Zoe turned 5 today. Five!!! Five. Wow.
The day didn’t start too well, I was sitting with Hazel on my bed, and turned away, and down she went. Lesson for the day: if you find yourself saying to your baby, “Why don’t we put you on the floor so I’m not so nervous with you up here.” Then for the love of all that’s holy, DO IT! Thankfully she’s fine, other than sporting a pretty nasty bruise on the side of her face.
But back to Zoe’s birthday. Chris and I took her out to breakfast this morning. She got to take a cake to school, and then we went out with her grandparents for dinner. After dinner, we went home to open gifts. The funniest was how every present, she’d squeal and say, “ooh, it’s what I’ve always wanted.” Even when the gift was a box of books that she’d never know existed until a couple of weeks ago. Not to be outdone, Hazel chose this evening to take her first real steps that weren’t just moving her feet while falling.
In honor of Zoe’s birthday, I thought I’d do a bit of a retrospective…
on her birthday in 2006
1 year (rock hammer for scale is approx. 13")
2 years, rock hammer for scale (approx. 13")
3 years. Surprise! No rock hammer this year.
4 years - rock hammer for scale is 13"
5 years old! Rock hammer is still for scale. Still 13"
At bedtime, I asked how it felt to be 5. “Nothing really changes that much when you have a birthday,” she told me, “you just get a little bit more attention.”
sisters
I never had a sister. Well, not until I was 17 and an exchange student (and that’s really a topic for another post or 30, though I’d love to write more about that someday). It’s been a lot of fun to watch Zoe and Hazel’s relationship, and how they interact. Hazel so clearly looks up to Zoe, and Zoe certainly has earned it – she’s always trying to get Hazel to laugh or smile. Or to stay in one place.
you'll note that she did put a toy in there to keep Hazel happy
they don’t mention this in the breastfeeding books
It’s not disputed that nursing causes some changes in the mother. My figure is bustier, I actually have cleavage to speak of, and I’m not used to that. It has also really upped my chocolate cravings, which were already quite strong to begin with. But now they’re crazy, leading me to grab and scarf down handfuls of chocolate chips and to try to satisfy them. It’s the combination of the two that’s the kicker. On more than one occasion, I’ve noticed melted chocolate on the inside of a bra, where a chip had fallen, unnoticed by me in to my more-ample-than-what-I’m-used-to décolletage.
…I’m…probably alone in this, aren’t I?
The blogging bug
I’ve been missing this blog – I’ve been missing blogging in general. This morning, I had a couple hours all to myself (I’m working the evening shift tonight), and got to do some work on my Little Four Eyes blog. I got so fired up and remembered how much I love these spaces. I was like getting bit by the blogging bug again. I don’t have a lot of time left this morning, but I feel the need to come back here and dust things off just a bit, and say hi. I want to make the time to post here more, and get back to when I could write something without taking all day to do it.
The girls are doing great. Hazel is pulling up on everything and getting really frustrated anytime she falls. She’ll be walking soon, which will be a whole new adventure. Zoe is almost 5, as she’s happy to point out to nearly everyone. We have all sorts of power struggles as we both figure out how to interact, but I think that’s normal, and I think it’s getting better. And we still snuggle at night, and I can’t think of a better nearly 5 year old. The two of them together is a hoot, Hazel clearly adores her older sister, and Zoe is always trying to get Hazel to smile and laugh.
helping with laundry
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In other news, I’ve entered Zoe in to Prevent Blindness America’s Most Beautiful Eyes contest. I would love your vote for her (click here, click vote – no registration or log in necessary). I would love to have a child with glasses be the face of a program to help parents learn more about healthy eye sight for their children. I wrote more about it over at Little Four Eyes.
catching up with the rock hammer
I’ve been terribly remiss, I know. How about I make it up to you with some rock hammer for scale pictures?
four months (rock hammer for scale is 13")
5 months (and 5 days), rock hammer for scale is 13"
We forgot to take a 6 month photo, but I have the stats. She weighed in at 20 pounds, and was 28″ long (she’s fallen down to the 97th and 98th percentiles, respectively).
Sisters, 7 months and 4 years 7 months, rock hammer for... oh, you know the rest
Sweet dreams
Zoe called out for me in the middle of the night last night. I ran up the stairs, bathrobe hastily thrown on to see what was the matter.
“I had a dream mommy” she tells me quietly, “a dream about flowers and lots of roses and we could smell them! Was that a good dream?
I think about this weekend, with trips to the doctor for both girls (suspected RSV for Hazel, pinkeye for Zoe). I think about the treatments we’re dealing with in both cases: nebulizer and much-hated and fought eye drops, and the fact that I kind of want to dip the entire house in disinfectant.
I think about this long winter we’ve had. Cold and snowy, we haven’t had a significant thaw since November, so the snowfalls layer on top of each other, like sediments. I imagine you could see evidence of each individual snow and ice event, if you felt like cutting through the huge snowpack. Snowplows couldn’t plow to the curb through the deep snows so there’s hardly room on the streets for cars to pass each other, and walking is full of obstacles and snow barriers should you want to get from the sidewalk to the street, to do something crazy like cross the street.
But the girls are healing, even if there’s still many days left of nebulizing masks and eye drop fights. And the days are getting longer and warmer, even if it’s likely to be another 6 weeks at least until spring comes for good. We have had above freezing temperatures 2 days in a row.
I give Zoe a kiss on her forehead, careful to avoid her goopy eyes, “yes, it’s a very good dream.” And I head back to bed imagining the scent of roses and thinking of spring.
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