The Joy of Bathtub Fingerpainting

I like to think that I am an amazing mom, but sometimes, things just don't quite go as planned...

Several weeks ago, I bought packages of vanilla pudding with the idea of making homemade finger paint for Roland.  At first, I planned on letting him sit in the highchair to paint and make a mess, but then decided that it would be better to just plop him down in the tub to do it.  Awesome idea, right?

Well.  Maybe awesome in theory...

I think that my first mistake came when I put a few globs of 'paint' on his arms.  He's definitely my son, and sometimes there are texture things that bother him.  He wasn't thrilled with that.  Then I put some big globs on the bottom of the tub.  He poked at it a little, but I don't think he liked getting his hands dirty with it, for some reason.

Then, of course, he pooped in the tub (I took his diaper off, cause I figured I'd just give him a bath when we were done.)  As I was cleaning that up, he decided to try to stand up, slipped in the pudding, and fell on his butt.

This started a horrible yet amusing chain of events where he was trying to scramble to his feet, slipping, whining, and attempting to climb out of the tub...all while I was trying to get him to sit down and calm down so that I could run the water and we could take a bath.

And then, even worse, when I started running the water it came out cold.

He was not a happy little boy!

Eventually, he was bathed, I cleaned all of the pudding gunk off me and the bottom of the tub, and he was safely wrapped in a towel and allowed to roam free in the wilds of the living room.

Next time we do this, I think we'll do it in the highchair in the kitchen, cause the linoleum is easier to clean than carpet.  If we do it in the tub again, I'll put down the bath mat first to make it easier...or maybe put him in a laundry basket.

Mom activity fail!

Of course, I think this might have been where I tweaked my back, which has made the rest of my day a living hell.  I've taken pain killers, and hopefully sleep will ease it a little.  If not, I will try to make a massage appointment for sometime this week!

The Art of Oreos

My child is almost painfully intelligent.  He will watch us do something, and then he mimics that...

I have a feeling this will come back to bite me in the ass when he is older.  But for now, I mostly think it's awesome and adorable.

Normally, when Roland gets oreos, all he gets is the chocolate part.  See, mom likes the filling.  So she takes half off and eats the half with filling on it, leaving all the little chocolate cookies.  And Roland, being the lover of sweets, usually gets those.

He has discovered that he is kind of getting the short end of the stick on this deal.

I'm having a rough day today.  In an excruciating amount of pain, which makes running after the baby difficult/impossible.  So he was sitting there, being a pill, and I went and got him an oreo.  The entire thing.

Yeah, I hurt so much that I couldn't even steal his filling.

So, he's sitting there on Uncle Cole's chair with an oreo.  I look over at him, and he is pulling the oreo apart.  He is very carefully about it, almost delicate, even.  He gets the cookie off without breaking it, which is pretty impressive in and of itself.  He sets the chocolate cookie to the side and attacks the filling.

I may be a little biased, and it's really a tiny thing.  But I find it absolutely hilarious and pretty damn impressive, to be honest!

I have a feeling this child is going to keep me on my toes.  Maybe we should rethink the idea of having another... ;)

Raising Children in the SCA

In 2001, when I was a Freshman in college, I stumbled into a world full of amazing, fantastic, geeky things.  I discovered LARP (live action Role Play.)  I was hooked immediately.  For many years, my life revolved around LARP.  I went to conventions all around the country, my friends were all fellow gamers, and my boyfriends were all people I met through the club.  I volunteered through the club where I played.  I met many wonderful and amazing people, some of whom are still very dear to me.

I met my husband through the club, through mutual friends.

For a long time, The Camarilla defined who I was as a person.  I was a roleplayer.  I LARP'd.  That was what I did in my free time.  That was pretty much my only hobby.

When we moved to Montana, things slowly started to change.  We had a chapter in Missoula, but it was pretty casual, and things never really got rolling.  I played online a lot, like I had when we were in Tulsa, but my interest began to wane.  As drama and bs became overwhelming on an out of character level, I started to take a step back.  I figured I would come back and play more when things where less crazy.

And then I got pregnant, and that all changed.

See, the group that we played with was 18 and up.  And I completely agree with that call.  We deal with a lot of adult and mature subjects...and frankly, I wouldn't feel comfortable playing with a 12 year old.  While some people have brought their children to conventions in the past, it wasn't something I was interested in.

Funny story.  We were at a convention once, and I saw something that nearly made my head explode.  There was a woman with a VERY tiny baby in a buggy.  She was pushing the baby around *in the gaming area.*  First, it's 18 and up, so the kid shouldn't have been there at all...even though it couldn't understand much.  Second, it is insanely distracting to have a tiny baby, even if the baby is well-behaved.  Third, you don't know all of these people...

Anyway.  That actually really bothered me.  At that point, Colin and I both pretty much decided we weren't going to take our kids to conventions.  I wasn't going to force them to stay in the room all weekend, and I just didn't feel comfortable taking my kids to a convention like that.  Even though I know that it's the only time they might get to meet some of the really important people in my life.

So, I'm pregnant.  And things were crazy in the club, and I took a huge step back.  I just couldn't get into the game.  About this time, Colin decided to get back into the SCA--the Society for Creative Anachronism.  I was interested, but his pushy behavior meant that I drug my feet in going.  I don't like being forced into anything...I'm stubborn like that.

Eventually, we moved to Hingham and Roland was born.  He was playing in Great Falls, but I didn't go with him.  I'm incredibly shy, first off, and I was kind of lost on how to go about starting.  I didn't know what to do for a persona, and everything was just completely overwhelming.

Last summer, he finally drug me to an event.  He was running the event, so I really felt that I had to go, so that I could fully support him.

I had an amazing time.  I volunteered in the kitchen, cause, well...that's what you do.  And I took classes and I met people and I just generally loved every minute of it.

Of course, I was hooked.

One of the major draws to the SCA, in my book, is that they are very family friendly.  Kids aren't shuffled off to the side to twiddle their thumbs.  They're brought into the fold and they're engaged in what we're doing.  It's like a big, happy, dysfunctional family.  Knowing that it was acceptable for me to bring Roland to events (and boy did I get an earful when he wasn't with us last summer) made it incredibly attractive.  We had a fun, geeky hobby that we could enjoy as a FAMILY.

Roland's first event was last August, at Whipping Winds.  It was a camping event, so it was also his first camping trip.  Despite some drama at the event and the bitter cold at night and the horrendous wind (hence the name) he had a blast.  He was happy and giggly and cheerful the whole time...expect when we tried to put him to bed, because God Forbid he miss ANY of the action.  He just loved it, and he ate up all of the attention that he got, being an adorable and friendly little boy.  This, more than anything, really told me that this was a good choice for our family.

I haven't made as many events as I would like.  Time and money and working on Saturdays has all conspired against us.  That will also be changing in the future.

Not only are children welcome and encouraged at events, but they're taught some valuable lessons in the SCA (although I can see how some children might become bratty...)  Chivalry is a big one.  As is volunteering.  Like any huge group, the SCA lives and dies by it's volunteers.  I'm a big believer in giving as much as I can to make the thing that I love beautiful.  I can't contribute much to the dream, because I'm still learning...but that doesn't mean I don't try!

I ran my first event earlier this month.  Like a silly girl, I volunteered to do it...panic really started to set in with the fact that it was only my fourth event.  Luckily, I had an insane amount of help, and everything went off without a hitch.

For my next trick, I'll be acting as Feast Steward for our event in July.  It'll be my one year anniversary playing, which just makes it all the better.

We joined a household recently that is very child friendly.  Everyone that I have met in the SCA has been welcoming and friendly and just amazing.  I admit I'm completely intimidated by the Peers and the Royalty and the people who have played forever and a day...luckily, I usually don't have any idea who they are, so I toddle about in my blissful ignorance.  We are so lucky that we have found something that will include our entire family, has welcomed us with open arms, and gives us so many wonderful and exciting opportunities.  I mean, really...how cool is it to recreate the (best parts of the) Middle Ages?

You want to know the best part about the SCA?

I mean, aside from the food.  And the classes.  And the music.  And all that other fun stuff that makes this just like adult 4-H on crack?

Fabric Porn.  Oh yeah.  I went there.

Sewing all our own garb means I get to buy a TON of fabric!  So much fabric...oh goodness, the fabric...

Ok, maybe feeding my fabric addiction is a bad thing.  I'll live!

Breaking the Chains of Bondage

Or,

How we Rid Ourselves of the Binkie and the Bottle in the Same Week!


Now, now, Mommies.  No hate mail.

We spent Roland's first Christmas here at home, and it was lovely.  The day after, we boarded a train and sped off to Fargo, ND, where Oma and Opa picked us up for a fun-filled week in Sioux City!

We boarded the train, and the child was thrilled!  There was a giant window with things to see and buildings to point at.  He squealed with glee and bounced in my lap and was perfectly happy and content with everything in the world.  He played with all of his toys that we'd brought in the carry on luggage, and it was a wonderful, easy trip.

For the first two minutes.

And then he squirmed and whined and grumped about not having room to crawl.

This alone would have likely made for a long and exhausting trip.

About two hours into the adventure, Mr. Man decided he was FAMISHED.  So I pulled out the meat and cheese and crackers I had brought along for the trip.  The boy of course attacked the food and devoured it.  I had some, Colin had some, we were all a fat and happy family.

And then something terrible happened.

He had a piece of licorice, you know, cause sugar would obviously help the hyperactivity.  At first, we thought he just gagged on the licorice...and then it came.

Lucky for me, Daddy was holding Roland and got the brunt of the explosion.

All. Over. The. Place.

Poor boyo.  We got everyone cleaned up and he promptly passed out.  I started to think that it was motion sickness, or he'd gagged himself.  He felt a little warm, but I had already given him tylenol for teething, and I didn't really think anything of it.

And then my poor sweet husband stumbled off to the bathroom.

We started to think that maybe the food was bad.  I had it in a small cooler, but it was a tad warm...not enough for food sickness, I didn't think.  Regardless, we tossed it all away.  None of us were feeling very hungry at this point anyway.

Roland woke up, and while he didn't throw up again, he was not interested in formula.  All he wanted was water out of his sippy cup.

Not long after this, I started feeling the rumbling of tummy weasels.  I resisted as long as I could, but, well.  You know how it goes.

At this point, I started to suspect it was NOT food poisoning   Particularly since my husband was sick numerous times.  And every time I would drink water, I was following him.  I'm just thankful that the child didn't get sick more...

Yes, we all were current on flu shots.  I can only assume our trip would have been worse if we hadn't been.

Anyway.  Our trip out was pretty horrific.  The train itself wasn't bad, but I hate getting sick.  Hate it more than anything else in the world.  Hate, Hate, Hate.  We got into Fargo, collapsed into bed at the hotel for a few hours, and then started the long drive back to Sioux City.

Of course we ran into snow and bad weather.

Of course!

I was still pretty sick, although I wasn't puking anymore.  Poor Roland was not feeling well.  He didn't want any formula, he didn't want to eat, all he wanted was to nurse his water.  And he didn't drink much of that either.

When we got to Sioux City, I went right to comforting and loving on my poor little boy.  He kept refusing his bottle, which was actually starting to worry me a little.  He wouldn't drink formula, and he didn't want to eat much food.  He would drink a little pedialyte, but not much.  He didn't have a fever, but he was obviously not feeling well.

I tried to give him his binkie, you know, as you do when your child is sick.  He looked at it, chewed on it a bit, and promptly spit it out.  I just kind of stared at him.  This is a boy who was glued to his binkie from day one.  So I tried again, and one again, it ended up hanging.

I thought maybe it was a fluke.  With the illness and all of us exhausted and crabby, I couldn't quite believe that something amazing may have just happened.

So I continued to try to binkie over the next few days.  Same thing.  SUCCESS!

The bottle was the same story.  He would suck down his sippy cup like nobody's business, but he wanted nothing to do with the bottle.  He'd chew on the nipple, stare at it, and then just throw it down.  Eventually, I figured out what he was doing and I poured his formula into the sippy cup.

Bingo.  That got his attention.

I swear, I was so happy I could cry.  I really thought that the bottle and the binkie were going to give us a lot of trouble when he got older.  But no, he just decided one day that he was going to be done with it.  There have been a few times since then that I've offered the binkie, but he's not interested.  The bottles were put away, and haven't come out since then.

I don't know if it was a combination of feeling ill and being off his schedule due to travelling, or if teething pain caused it, or if he just came to the right conclusion.  But whatever it was, I am so damn happy that he decided to be done!

Now if only potty training goes this easily...and if it does, THEN you can all hate me.

Thoughts on Rape Culture

I know that the rape culture exists.  I see it in my friends who have been sexually abused.  I see it in the media.  I see it in the way society portrays women, and the way we treat victims and abusers alike.

I read stories from women who talk about how they spend time every day debating what to wear, so that they don’t dress too provocatively.  Or too dumpy.  Or too trashy, too old, too…whatever.  They fix their hair a certain way and do their make up a certain way, just to make sure they don’t give anyone the wrong impression.

I’ve never done that.

Sure, sometimes when I’m going out to the club or bar, I consider what I’m going to wear.  But my mind never, NEVER goes to, ‘I shouldn’t wear this because someone might think I’m a slut and rape me.’  It’s more, ‘Is this going to make me look extra super fat and ugly tonight?  Do I really care?’  The answer is usually no.

I wonder why my mind does this.  Is it because I’ve been raised somewhere where rape isn’t prevalent?  Or is it because as someone who is morbidly obese, I figure that no one would want to rape me anyway?

The more I think about it, the more it worries me a little.  When I was younger, I wasn’t cautious.  I rarely went out to the bar alone, but that’s because I’m shy.  These days, I generally make sure I have a sober babysitter, but there have been many conventions where I haven’t had that.  Several of them, I almost got myself in trouble.

At one event in 2006, shortly after a breakup that left me in a very bad place, I went to a convention.  I was dating someone new, but I was still pretty messed up over things.  I used the convention as an excuse to drink way too much.  I started drinking Wednesday evening when we rolled into Louisville, and I was still drunk when we left Sunday morning.  I joke about this con a lot, because it’s where I had my infamous evening of introducing myself to everyone in the ballroom where we were partying.  Multiple times.  Even people that I knew.  Like, people that I knew really well, from my home town.

Maybe not a shining moment in my life.

Anyway, Saturday night of the convention, was epic drunkness.  This was the evening of the Midori in a squirt bottle.  Near the end of the night, I was in pretty bad shape.  There was one point where…well, somehow, the conversation turned to my boobs (that’s normal, right?)  And before I knew it, two of the guys I was hanging out with were groping me and kissing me.  I didn’t really mind, mostly because I was drunk.  Way too drunk.  Especially with guys that I didn’t know at all.

Luckily, a dear, dear friend was in the ballroom as the sober coordinator on duty.  As soon as he saw what was going on, he gently pried the guys off me.  I was in that drunk state where I didn’t really care—I was drunk and depressed and lonely.  He found two guys who were sober-ish and reliable, and sent them to walk me back to my hotel room.  Good thing I had an escort…stairs were difficult in my state.

I don’t know if I would have done anything with these guys.  I might have, even though I was dating someone at the time.  I know that makes me a terrible person, but then again—I was a very different person seven years ago.

Anyway.  It was just something strange that came to my mind.  I know that I am too trusting.  It’s something that I need to be aware of, and something that I think I need to be more careful about.

I’m still likely not going to worry too much about what I’m wearing when I leave the house.  Usually it’s just yoga pants and a tanktop.

But it’s still something to think about.

Potato Soup

I first made this soup last year around the holidays.  We had a ham with lots of leftovers, and I figured I would give it a try.  It needed to be used up anyway, and if it flopped, then there was always hamburgers from the bar.

No flopping.  This soup was a MAJOR success.

This is one of my favorite soups to make.  It is ridiculously easy and absolutely delicious.  It reheats well, and it's great to make and leave in a crockpot to eat on all day long.

Just as a reminder--I don't really use measurements.  Sorry guys, I fly by the seat of my pants.  On the bright side, this lets you experiment and make it all your own!  And this way, if it flops, you can't blame me...

April's Amazing and Delicious Potato Soup

1) Start with HAM.  I almost always use a ham bone that has been cooked.  I buy them extra big so I have extra ham for this soup.  Cut off as much of the meat as you can.  If you want to save some meat for other stuff, put that to the side.  I recently made this with bacon ends that I had cooked up and it turned out absolutely delicious.  It didn't have quite as much of a hammy taste, and was a little saltier, but it was very good.  So that is also an option.

2) Combine equal amounts of chicken broth and half-n-half.  You can use milk if you prefer, but I like the thickness the half-n-half provides.  You can also use water and add bouillon if you'd like--I've done it both ways, and it works either way.  Generally, if I am using chicken broth, I end up adding a little extra bouillon anyway.  Toss in some pepper (or a lot...) and some Alpine Touch (you haven't bought any yet?  What is wrong with you?!?)  I usually don't add any salt, as the pork will add a lot of saltiness.  Put in a massive pot on medium heat, or a crock pot for all day long cooking goodness.  Toss the ham bone and your meat in.  

3) Cook for 45 minutes to an hour.  Keep an eye on it so it doesn't boil over, because it like will try to do that.  You may want to add more bouillon and water, but that will just be to your personal taste preferences. If you wanted to add onions or other veggies, I suppose you could do that here too...but why ruin a perfectly good soup with green things?!?

4) Give the broth a taste, add more spices if needed.  Pull out the ham bone.  Chop up potatoes, roughly the same amount of meat that you put in.  If you want, you can peel them, but I never do.  I just scrub them up really well and toss the whole thing in.  The best potatoes for this are red or yukon gold, but plain old spuds will work just fine as well!  These will usually take 10-15 minutes to cook until they are soft.

5) This is completely optional, but this is how we like it.  At this point, we add a small amount of instant mashed potatoes to the broth.  This thickens the broth slightly and makes it a bit hardier.  My favorite potatoes to use for this are the Four-Cheese Instant potatoes.  Thicken and give it a faint cheesy taste, but you can use anything really.  You could also take a potato masher and mash the potatoes in the soup slightly.  Add the instant potatoes slowly, because they will thicken the broth quickly.  

6) Serve with a healthy handful of cheddar cheese and some delicious crusty bread!

This soup is super easy and delicious.  It reheats really well and it sticks with you.  I've made it before with the hams that you get that are perfectly oblong (you know the ones...) and it just doesn't quite have the same flavor to it.  You could use that, but you'd want to maybe add some ham base to it.  The bacon ends were a huge hit, and they were plenty fatty enough to add some really good flavor to the soup.  My favorite though is using the ham bone.

Food Porn!

For anyone who knows me, you know that I'm a certified fat kid.  I like brownies and cookies and cake and ice cream and well...anything that's good.  I'm also an incredibly picky eater.  I suspect I'm a super taster...or maybe I'm just a brat, I dunno yet.

So!  I'll be putting up different recipes and such.  I do a lot of "home cooking."  Fried foods, gravy, butter.  Not necessarily good for you, but damn tasty!  Before I do that though, fair warning--I don't use measurements.  I just kind of go with the flow and cook to taste.

I also use a lot of Alpine Touch.  And since most people aren't in Montana, you probably have no idea what it is.  It's an amazing spice mix that is kind of like crack.  Seriously.  When you start using it, you'll never want to stop.  I buy it in massive jugs and it lasts for like two weeks...ok, maybe closer to a year, but still.  If you want some of your own, you can find it at http://www.alpinetouch.com/.  Or substitute your own favorite spice mix.  Or leave it out.  The possibilities are endless!

Later, I'll get my recipe for Potato Soup up for people.  It's delicious, and definitely one of my favorites.