A foreigner in my own kitchen

If you're looking for the most recent writing workshop post, you will understand why I linked to the wrong post when you read it here.

X holds up his arms for me to pick him up. He then points imperiously toward the kitchen cabinet.

It's time for a rousing game of "Guess what X wants?"

"Ba."

I open the door. I see a bag of goldfish crackers and hold it up to him. He takes a shot at it, knocking it out of my hands and onto the floor. Clearly it was not what he had in mind.

He points again. 

"Ba."

Ba? Could "ba" be a box of raisins?

Wrong again.

"BA! BA!"

Now he's getting pissed. I mean, CLEARLY he's telling me what he wants, and I'm just too stupid to figure it out.

I'm getting frantic. He's getting red-faced. A storm is a-brewin'.

"BAAA!!!"

  

Wheat crackers? Veggie sticks? Pretzels? Potato chips? Tin foil? What? Yes? Tin foil?!?!

No. You can't eat that.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"

We're both in tears at this point.

Because I have no freaking idea what he wants. I don't understand "ba." I don't get "Uh." 

Clearly, I don't speak his language. But I should. I should.

He's my baby. We should have this down, shouldn't we? Instead, I need a Rosetta Stone course in Toddlerese. 

He is now sitting on the kitchen floor, screaming and kicking his legs. 

I walk away. He follows. Screaming. Tears. Snot. He's reaching for me. I pick him up.

We start again. 

"Ba! Ba!"

I frantically scan the contents of the cabinet once again.

Um.. Cookie?

He vigorously nods his head, as if to say, "Yes! Finally, you moron! Like, duh!"

Duh, indeed.

I'm learning.

This post was part of Mama Kat's writing workshop. The prompt was "Describe a time when you had difficulty communicating with someone who speaks a different language than you."

Let him eat cake. Please!

You're having a first birthday party for your child. You've got the bounce house filled with kids in the back yard, the pizza's about to be delivered and old friends are chatting about the other first birthday parties they've attended at your house.

But we all know what the main event is. Because when a baby turns one, he gets to have cake. And there is nothing quite like watching that first tentative taste - followed by the head-first dive into all that deliciousness.

The frosting flies. Fistfuls of cake are shoved into the mouth. It's a full-body wonderful mess.

Good stuff, isn't it?

But when your kid has food sensitivities, it's not so simple.

When Sawyer turned one, I made this dairy-soy-wheat-egg free "cake" for his birthday. It was the size of a large pancake and weighed about 10 pounds. No joke. And the "frosting" was basically melted sugar.

Poor little guy.

Yes, I know HE wouldn't have known whether he had cake at his party. But I would.

Things have changed in six years. Manufacturers finally realized they had a big consumer base for gluten-free stuff. And that a lot of kids have issues with soy and dairy (adults, too).

So I figured it wouldn't be that tough to find a cake mix for X's birthday party yesterday.

I was wrong.

If they were gluten-free, they contained dairy or soy or needed eggs. Or the substitutions they recommended were nowhere to be found at the stores near me.

Which is why two hours before the party, I still had no cake for him. I'd dispatched David to our nearest Whole Foods (which was 20 minutes away) because, thanks to my friend Joya, I'd heard they might have exactly what I needed.

And they did. David picked up a box of chocolate cake mix and vanilla frosting from Cherrybrook Kitchen. Finally! A mix that was like a regular cake mix - easy to use for someone who is so NOT Julia Child. All I had to add was oil and water and vanilla extract. Fifteen minutes later, I had a dozen chocolate cupcakes.

The frosting mix called for butter, and luckily, Whole Foods had a dairy and soy-free substitute. I mixed it up and frosted them - 10 minutes before guests were to arrive.

X spent the party walking around and trying to grab all the balloons. He ate a dinner of blueberries and tortilla chips. He said "aw bun" when I asked if he was done - the first two-word phrase he's ever uttered.

It got better, though. Because, finally, it was time for cake. And I had just the thing.

We put candles on the "regular" cupcake cake for X to stare at while we sung Happy Birthday.

Then I put him in the high chair and presented him with his first-ever cupcake.

He stuck a finger in. He looked at me. He poked it again and then put his finger in his mouth. And there was that little light, that thing that clicks in their baby minds.

That thing that shouts SUGAR!!

Soon he had his fists in the cake and frosting in his hair.

He was happy.

Me, too. I also got to eat one, and you'd be surprised by how good it tasted! Really chocolatey. And even though it's been over a year since I've actually had a cupcake, it didn't skew my taste buds.

So why did it matter so much that X got to eat cake, an event he will never remember?

It's just, when you have a child with food sensitivities or allergy, you want them to have the same rites of passage as everyone else. There are enough things they will do without as they get older - like birthday cake at his friend's parties. I live this with Sawyer and his peanut allergy every day.

No amount of wishing or pretending everything's fine will make it so. Food allergies are extremely serious and there is no worse feeling than giving your child something that makes him suffer - and I definitely didn't want to do that just for a photo op.

I knew this would be safe for him.

So on X's first birthday, no matter what his food journey will be, he got to be like all the other kids.

He got to eat cake.

*Cherrybrook Kitchen did not give me free stuff, nor am I a paid advertiser for their products. However, if they'd ask, I'd be happy to keep talking about their products. They were THAT good and helped a Mommy feel like an okay parent for a day.

Almost Better than Honey Bear

 

Each weekend, a child from Sawyer's kindergarten class gets to take home Honey Bear. The bear goes wherever your kid goes: parties, soccer games, the zoo, out to eat, etc. Then you take pictures and write in the journal about what you did.

Sawyer came bouncing out of class clutching a bag on Friday, shouting that he had Honey Bear. This is a Big Deal. It was pretty cool seeing Sawyer so excited.

Honey Bear had a great weekend: he got to play Bakugan, go out for pizza and even went to a birthday party (no cake, though, since it contained nuts, and Bears are allergic. In case you didn't know. At least they are when they're with Sawyer).

Sawyer even slept with him. It was very sweet. We returned him on Monday but Sawyer was the special student for the week. I had to make an all-about-Sawyer collage, which forced me to look back through old pictures to find some cute baby ones - and more than once I had to stop and say to David "Good LORD X looks JUST LIKE HIM!" I swear I could have 100 boys and they'd all look just like their Dad. It is a thankless job being simply the vessel, I tells ya..

So today David, Sage, X and I went to his classroom for the family visit. We sat up in front of the class and the kids got to ask questions about us.

What's our favorite movie? What's our favorite food? Color? Job? Game? The teacher warned them in advance not to talk about themselves, but when I said my favorite movie is "Ratatouille" I got a lot of "me too!" I mean, who doesn't love that movie?

Really, though, the kids were only sort of paying attention to us. Because a certain small someone stole the show.

 

He was yelling, trying to grab Sawyer, babbling and, when I put him down for a second, he crawled around like a wild man. When all the kids started laughing, at first he looked unsure. But then he joined in and started clapping. They were all very impressed.

And Sawyer was extremely proud. His brother was almost as cool as Honey Bear.

X is Ten Months!

 

I mean, how can you just pick ONE picture? Look how cute he is! Are you LOOKING?!?!

Actually, I've just been futzing around with a photo editing website and am testing out making collages. X was very excited because we were lucky enough to score one of those plastic cars with a handle, and it made its debut yesterday. There was a LOT of excitement on the street when X came rolling up in his new wheels.

So, 10 months. Double digits. Yowza.

This has been a big month. I knew it'd fly by, with all the holiday craziness. But that did not AT ALL stop him from doing all kinds of awesome stuff. And I'm happy to report that it really doesn't get old. Even though he's a third, I still get jazzed by his firsts.

Like his first step. NO I do not have it on video. The good thing is he did it when the whole family was there. Just let go of something, took a step and then lunged into my arms as I squatted next to him.

He's since taken just one step a couple other times. What's really amazing about him is how strong he is. He can stand by himself for about a minute, as he examines a toy, passing it back and forth between both hands.

He'll crawl or push his walker over to something, like Sage's big plastic lego box. He'll squat and pick it up, almost to his eye-level, and stand there checking it out.

I took the kids to the park,and put X down in the sand next to some tiny structures. He pulled up and cruised along and had a great time.

So how is he sleeping, you wonder? Hey! Thanks for asking! Last night he went ELEVEN hours. Without waking up and crying. Not even a peep.

See, we finally did the Cry It Out thing. At first, I'd leave the room and go sleep on the couch when he woke up the second time (yes, I still accomodated him the first time he woke up in the night). Then I realized that there was something wrong with this picture. I mean, shouldn't HE be the one to be booted out of the room?

Logistically, this is not easy. So I came up with a new plan. The past few nights I've played dead. He'd wake up, hold onto the crib rail and wail, watching me. I didn't move, only gritting my teeth when David would roll over or clear his throat.

It would take about 20 minutes, but X would go back to sleep.

Then last night, silence. All. Night. Long.

Here's hoping it's the start of a great month to come.

Just a little more sugar

Happy Sweet Holidays!

It's right there in Sharpie

My mother is crafty. This apparently is a gene she did not pass on to her offspring.

She can knit, embroider, and her latest passion is quilting. She's made beautiful quilts for Sawyer and Sage. So she decided to make one for X.

She just sent me this awesome quilt, in fun colors, with the whole back done in a bright blue minky material.

It's customary for her to sign her work with a patch sewn to the back. I think it's cool, so years from now, the kids can have something personal to remember her by.

So as I went to wash X's quilt, I read the patch.

And I about fell over.