Human garbage disposal

So, here’s the thing: I really hate wasting food.  In particular, I hate wasting good food (a foodie has to have her standards, after all) or food that should be good because we put precious time and high-quality ingredients into it.

My feelings about food waste do not mesh particularly well with introducing solid foods to a baby.  Whether you start with self-feeding (like BabyLed Weaning) from the beginning or spoon feeding, there will eventually be a time when your baby learns to feed him/herself, and this time will involve a learning curve.

The process is inherently messy and wasteful: food on the face, partially masticated food drooled onto the bib, food smashed in little fists, food dropped on the floor, food in the seat . . . .

Of course, since we try to only put high quality food in our bodies, we offer The Dude the same.  We take some normal steps to minimize waste:

  1. Only put a small amount of food in front of him at once.
  2. Make sure the floor is [relatively] clean, so we can hand back dropped pieces.
  3. Offer food when he’s not starving (i.e., AFTER he’s had mama’s milk), tired, or otherwise fussy.
  4. Minimize distractions during mealtime.

But there comes a point when the food is crumbled in pieces too small for The Dude to grasp and/or he loses interest in the meal.

Enter the human garbage disposal, AKA mama.  Yep, I unashamedly pick up the bits of food (including some that have been in his mouth and rejected) from the table, floor, and chair.

Upon first witnessing this, Matthew commented that baby birds typically eat food from the mama bird’s mouth, NOT the other way around.

I do have my limits — some items I rule out as too mushy, slobbery, etc.  Sometimes it goes straight into my mouth, other times, I dress it up a little, adding some nut butter to the leftover piece of bread, or tossing some partially chewed veggies in with some other food I’m going to eat.

I just can’t let good food go in the trash!  What extreme actions do you take to avoid food waste?

Making dinner happen

Monday through Thursday,  we enact a carefully choreographed dance, working together to make and eat dinner, put The Dude to bed, and get ready to do it all again the next day.  Here’s how it goes (exact timing varies slightly):

5:00  Matthew takes the lead on dinner, starting prep as soon as he gets home from work. At a minimum, we discuss dinner plans during the day, but we’re trying to sit down on Sunday and sketch out a rough meal plan for the week.  Some sort of plan helps things run much more smoothly than the arrive home from work, hungry and tired, and stare in the fridge asking “What’s for dinner?” approach.

6:10  Gabriel and I arrive, and Matthew spends a few minutes with him (mostly involving a potty opportunity and a nice, thick diaper).  I change, hang up my clothes, use the bathroom, and grab a drink of water.

6:20  The Dude and I snuggle up on the couch, and he  eats his dinner/bedtime snack.  Meanwhile, Matthew continues working on dinner.


Assembling a new lasagna

6:40  Once Gabriel finishes eating, we head to the bedroom.  We sing his bedtime lullaby, and I lay him down for the night.  On good nights he goes down without a peep, on so-so nights, 5-10 minutes of crying, during which I agonize over all the things that I may have done wrong in the bedtime routine while anxiously awaiting the quiet.

6:45  I return to the kitchen and jump in where needed to get dinner on the table ASAP.  Most nights this happens between 7:00 and 7:30, but some nights we’re pushing 8:00, which would just be quaint and European, except we’re trying to go to bed by 9:30, which doesn’t leave much time to digest, not to mention taking care of the after dinner stuff.

7:15  Light candles, set table, and sit down to dinner.*  If we’re lucky, we’re not too tired to enjoy the delicious food in front of us.

7:50  Pack lunches for next day (usually leftovers from the previous night’s meal), complete some minimal kitchen cleanup (I’m trying to improve on this, but things tend to pile up until the weekend), and put away dinner leftovers.

This concludes the “dinner” portion of the night.  In the remaining time, we grab a few minutes relaxing on the couch with books, use our neti pots, and have a bit of dessert (if we’re hungry having just finished dinner).**  I like to have things all wrapped up, including brushing, flossing, and last call in the bathroom by 9:00 if possible, leaving a few more minutes to read in bed before lights out.

*The fact that Gabriel is not at the table with us for dinner really bugs me, because family meals are important for establishing good eating habits.  Unfortunately, given my current work schedule and his current bedtime (which may sound incredibly early, but really seems to work for him), our options are limited.
**Some nights we also engage in fun extracurricular activities during this time, like hanging the diapers 😉

Avoiding antibiotics

Time to crawl out from under this rock and return to writing.  The past seven days took their toll.

I [barely] survived three days home alone with a sick and needy baby (while sick myself, of course).  Every feeding brought the fear that he would cough hard enough to gag and vomit, which happened at least once a day, and all the mucous going through his system led to some interesting results from the other end, as well.

A comment by one of his caregivers that his cough sounded croup-like sent us to the doctor on Wednesday morning.  The “good” news: just a bad cold with a “junky” cough.  The bad news: mild ear infection in the right ear.

The pediatrician apologetically recommended antibiotics.  I asked if we could wait and see if it cleared on its own, knowing that many ear infections are viral, in which case antibiotics are completely useless and unnecessary.  She agreed, on the condition that we return in three days for a recheck, to make sure the infection was not progressing.

I took a copy of the prescription and returned home to deliberate: Just fill the darn prescription, which would probably cost us $5, or try to avoid unnecessary antibiotics (and the fun that goes with them, like diarrhea and/or constipation and secondary infections from eliminating the “good” gut bacteria), at the cost of an extra $25 office visit copay, not to mention the time and effort of a return visit?  Quite frustrating when the better-for-health decision is significantly less convenient AND more expensive.

Still, after some discussion, Matthew and I opted for the wait-and-see approach, and I made the follow-up appointment.  For the next three days, we applied warm compresses to The Dude’s ear and throat.*

Feeling worn down and negative, I fully expected bad news at Gabriel’s follow-up visit on Saturday, so I was pleasantly surprised when Matthew reported that, while not entirely cleared, the infection was “heading in the right direction,” no antibiotics needed.

Warm Compress Method**
Wet a clean washcloth, then ring out excess water.  Fold in half, then in thirds.  Place the washcloth in the microwave and heat for about 20 seconds.  Carefully remove the hot washcloth.

Test the temperature on your own ear before applying to baby’s ear (remembering that baby’s skin will be extra sensitive) — err on the side of caution with the temperature.

Hold warm, damp washcloth over affected ear and side of the throat until the cloth cools.  This will help drain the ear, facilitating the body’s efforts to fight the infection.  Repeat several times throughout the day.

*The warm compress is actually recommended by the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP).  (I don’t always agree with all of their recommendations, but sometimes they get it right.)
**This is not intended as medical advice, nor should it replace consultation with your health care provider.

Friday Funday — Meet our new pet

I’m not really a pet person.  I like animals and all, especially baby animals, but I don’t like animal hair or the idea of spending lots of money on vet bills and other expenses.  It just seems like more trouble than it’s worth.  That said, we seem to have found ourselves a pet . . .

. . . a baby bulldog!

Lip protruding, bulldog style

I can’t imagine taking care of a baby and taking care of a puppy.  Fortunately, we don’t need to get a puppy — we got a two-in-one deal.

Baby Bulldog loves to chew

How babies are like puppies:

  1. Diaper-free time = cleaning up lots of puddles
  2. Chewing everything — Baby Bulldog favors slippers (we’re tempted to buy him a rawhide bone)
  3. Needing lots of attention

What do you think?  Any other ways that babies and puppies are similar?

Psst, psst: EC at six months

UPDATE: Hello to all BERF readers!  Because of all the interest in EC, I’ve just added a new post that synthesizes what I’ve learned thus far.  Thanks for visiting Her Green Life. 

So, this post originally had a “five” in the title, but five has come and gone.  At this point, we’re actually closer to seven months than six, but who’s counting?

I’ve been sitting on this post, waiting to have a “Dude on the pot” photo to include, but I’m afraid no photo is quite appropriate.  Most potty opportunities in the past weeks ended with him making his body completely rigid and refusing to sit on the pot.  I finally started joking around with it, holding his rigid little body up over the pot, saying, “Light as a feather, stiff as a board,” except more than half the time, I caught myself saying, “Light as a board, stiff as a feather.”

Anyway, when he resists, we’re not forcing it, but our enthusiasm for offering the potty has definitely waned.  We still offer sometimes, but our number of catches is quite low.  Many of the books talk about “potty pauses,” but I assumed those were numbered in days, maybe a week or two, not weeks or months.  We shall see . . . .

**EC stands for Elimination CommunicationIf you’re new to the blog, you can read more about it in the “Psst, psst” series: