Breaking rations

I took last week off, which was necessary because with the boys home, I had extra work to do. They don't think they make extra work, but BOY HOWDY! they make extra work. I do love them very much...

But I am really, really tired.

So I went back to the doctor last week to sing the praises of Flovent. All those years, and I could have--well, actually, I haven't really missed anything, and I still wouldn't qualify for certain jobs that I think would be cool to have.

I will never be a soldier of fortune, for instance.

But that's okay, like Bilbo at the beginning of the Hobbit, which I am now reading to the girl, I have brought adventure into my own home. Cooking things in the pressure cooker has become an adventure. Like running to your house and scrabbling for your key in the lock while pretending a murderer is after you, or picking a car and "losing them" as though you were a supercool spy, hubby and I like to treat the giant thing as though it were a bomb. Oh sure, there are fail-safes, but I have to have something to keep me interested in the walls sometimes.

This rarely happens.

So I've also looked to some other things to cook or make for the family. The current, er, flavor of the day is Tiramisu. My local supermarket is--not surprisingly--short on marscapone cheese, but no worries, because it's apparently a beginning cheesemaker's first project, sorta like the programmer's "Hello World!" or the tinkerer's broken clock. I did find it at Walmart, in the fancy cheese section of the deli for $3/8oz. Not a bad price, and since I couldn't actually find heavy cream that was not ultra-pasteurized, I decided to skip this step. I still included it for posterity.

I'm also experimenting with making a coffee free version for the kids and using a "sponge slab" rather than lady fingers which are stupidly expensive and not readily available where I am. So I'll include a recipe for everything, which I call "Super Experimental Coffee, egg, and alcohol-free Sponge Tiramisu." Oh and when I say that it's a "Quick recipe," I mean you'll start the night before you actually want to eat it.

Just chillin'.

And no, this is not even remotely ration friendly. It was invented in the 70s. I'll save those recipes for weeks when I am working on the garden and trying to get the kids (and me) to eat more veggies.

Sponge (sometime the day before, making it in two batches might be best):

6 oz self rising flour (sifted and left on a plate)

6 eggs

8 oz sugar

(2 tsp vanilla, optional)

Put eggs and sugar in a bowl and beat until mixture thickens. Fold flour into mix and pour half the mixture into parchment lined jelly roll pan. Bake for 12-15 minutes at , remove from oven and cool while baking second sponge with other half of batter.

Marscapone Cheese (the night before, if you don't buy it):

3 c heavy cream (NOT ultra-pasturized)

1.5 tsp lemon juice

Heat cream over medium high heat until candy thermometer reads 190 deg. Milk should be lightly simmering. Add lemon juice and stir until mixture coats the back of a spoon. Place sieve lined with fine cheesecloth or coffee filters over a bowl and pour mixture in, leaving overnight.

Tiramisu (make in the morning for nighttime enjoyment!):

2 c heavy cream, chilled

16 oz marscapone cheese

1 c confectioners sugar

1 1/2 c coffee (or chocolate milk?)

1/2 tsp vanilla

16 oz lady fingers or sponges from earlier

Cocoa powder for dusting.

In a chilled bowl with chilled beaters, whip cream until stiff peaks form.

In a separate bowl, whip marscapone cheese until smooth. Add sugar, 1 c coffee (milk?) and vanilla fold whipped cream in carefully. Do not over mix.

Soak ladyfingers (sponge?) in remaining espresso (or milk?), layer into 13x9" baking dish and cover with half of creamy mix. Layer more lady fingers, then more creamy mix and chill for 4-8 hours. Dust with cocoa before serving. (Note: the sponge is super thirsty. You might want more than this. Honestly, I just poured the coffee over the sponge layer.)

I will try to post pictures later, because it will be eaten.

The fight at home.

So, as reported earlier, I have been working on conquering my house from the post-pregnancy and new infant destruction. This is harder to do when the house seems to actively fight back. Of late, I've gotten my entry clean when a month later it looks like my hours of work were hours playing Candy Crush or Facebook Cross-stitch.

I would rather spend my craft money on crafts.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, I've cleaned the stove enough that it is not only sanitary, but it's nice as well. I even replaced the drip pans with porcelain ones which should wipe clean rather than rust through like the aluminum ones. Of course, like any proper homemaker what I really want is a new stove, possibly one of those beautiful glass top ones.

Or, you know...

But I keep fighting the good fight. Without me, this family would be living like raccoons inside two weeks, and even though sometimes it can be daunting, I have to keep working. Of course, that being said in the course of online political discourse, someone told me that, because I am a housewife, I have no ambition and desire only to mooch off of others. I had to write my response three times before I could stem my anger. I'm not gonna lie, I also called them a Nazi for their xenophobia, so I really can't claim the high road here. Weirdly, though, it wasn't a Godwin, as their "solution" for the country's troubles smacked of someone else who had a "Solution."

Yes, ma'am!

I admit it, he pressed a button I've had for a LONG time. That being said, though I do have plans for the summer. The frustrating part is that Mr. Smith is working on his dissertation over spring break, and when the Boys are home it just means more work for me. I haven't had four hours to myself since the baby was born. I've barely had time for tatting, so I've only worked thirty of the forty medallions, the centers of which I did during doctor appointments and non-stress tests.

I felt like this, only I was tatting.

Of course, now I have a Diva to chase which is why this post has taken two days to write. I had to stop in the middle of the previous sentence because I had to chase her again, this time, she was exploring the toilet, so I wiped her down with baby wipes. I guess I need to get her a water table to play with outside... or inside.

Which ought to keep her occupied for all of five minutes.

Well I guess its time to get more coffee, wash some clothes, and change out the toys again.

The best laid plans of moms...

I've tried and failed a couple of times since January to start blogging again. Unfortunately, it's been countered by a few things going on from a sort of general malaise to what might be latent nesting, to just chasing after a now nine month old baby.

I wrote a whole... word...... zzzzzzzzz.......

On top of everything, Mr. Smith's scooter threw a rod, or a bearing, or a camshaft--well, something technical and machine-sounding, so it's not working at the moment. This means that he has to take the truck to work, and that makes my very small world seem a little smaller.

I can see my house from... everywhere.

In other news, the world of "breathing" continues. Twice daily, I breathe in a powdery substance that tastes like dry spaghetti, and it keeps my lungs in the working order they never really were. I may never run a five minute mile, but at least I can walk a 35 minute mile without coughing up a malfunctioning lung.

I blame the groundhog.

And finally the Home Front. As mentioned at the top, I've been doing some latent nesting. I've organized drawers, arranged sweaters in the closet, and even handled a couple of the bills that were once in the flower and now in the filing cabinet. Of course the entryway I spent HOURS organizing is a wreck again, but I'll fix it again, and above all, the kitchen? It's not just clean, it's SANITARY! I mean it may not be spotless, strictly speaking, but it's clean enough to cook out of, most of the dishes are done, and the ants are forced to go for the borax trap rather than food.

You know where this is going.

In addition, my amazing sister and I have been looking at food preservation, solar power, and other things that are becoming associated with "doomsday preppers." I started this blog because I wanted to move my family to a simpler life. So far I've botched that. What I have done is start to cook more, and try to rely less on the modern, imported, brand new, and all that. We only have one television, and no cable. We have game systems, more computers than I can count, and high speed wifi, but we come to the table for a homemade, whole food meal. I still need to get into making after school snacks and after dinner treats. That's a lot of cooking though, so I may need to come up with a different solution, and this different solution might involve the freezer.

It may be clean, but I'd like to leave the kitchen occasionally.

However, I am doing one thing that is not on the ration list, strictly speaking, though without cooking lots of cakes, it might be. You see, in the interests of tradition, Friday has become "Treat Friday," where we go and get a treat to celebrate the end of another week--just an Icee and a candy bar at the Pilot station--and Saturday night has become "Pizza Saturday" where we watch Super Sci-fi Saturday night on MeTV and have pizza and sodas. Friday morning, since the boys were gone ALSO became "Coffee and Doughnut" Friday. Well, a very sneaky Mr. Sm--er, Mr. Santa--brought me a new George Foreman grill with changeable plates. It came with new ceramic grill plates, and the thing I wanted most, WAFFLE plates! I read and actually STUDIED how to make the perfect waffles, adapted a recipe I already had, and so Saturday mornings, I make waffles.

You'd think I'd get tired of waffles on Saturday mornings?

Uncle Sam needs waffles!

The Definition of Insanity

Okay, so it's a wonderful thing when you can actually STOP coughing and wheezing before you are out of breath and covered in pee. I think I knew a long time ago that I was destined to have asthma, or else someone told me. Point being, the inhaler is a lifesaver--and I'm not sure that's just being figurative.

So now with that out of the way, I may not be on the exercise circuit just yet but I am able to do some work. Junior brought home a bear of a cold, and somehow gave it to his sister before I ended up with it, and with all the snuggling I would have thought I'd have caught it sooner so I could give her a little antibody boost, but she seems to have finally shaken it. Do you know what you can do when a baby has a sinus headache?

That's what you can do.

I held her and walked around, which did seem to help. I also planned dinner for this and next week and have begun obsessing on what I can do to get my family back on a track to health. We've been getting caught up in a Friday/Saturday blow-out that's gone off the rails. I stopped the soda encroachment for the most part, though I admit I went for about four days with bare minimum sleep to stave off hallucinations and on those days, I'd use a soda to give me a caffeine boost.

It's like liquid sleep!

In other new, my palm pilot has started having charging issues and no longer fully charges even after being left for a while on the charging dock. I have been nervously lamenting the change back to paper or perhaps some OTHER shopping application to help me keep track of my budget. Is it wrong that I want to see the aisles, prices, and total cost all in one easy, straightforward manner? I don't need wifi, sharing, or pretty pictures, I just need a shopping app that WORKS and helps my budget. So, for those of you who follow my G+ you know that I found rShopping List on the play store and it is AMAZING! It is a rewrite of the original program that has kept me tied to the Palm m500.

Pretty sure this is an actual picture of the author.

Christmas is almost here. That means Crimbo gaming on Kingdom of Loathing, shopping, wrapping, and planning Junior's birthday. (I have big ideas.) It is also my first Christmas with Steve the Meyer lemon. Unfortunately, being self-thinning, Steve is apparently not confident in his ability to bear adult lemons. I've lost all but two of my fruits and I don't have much confidence that they will survive.

I believe in you, Steve!

I am hoping to get back to my lace, soon. I've made decent progress, but I'm still feeling terribly slow for all the amazing work other tatters do. Granted, I am doing them with a little barnacle. On top of that I am working on deep cleaning.

I slipped this week, I do have plans to declutter what I can by myself. Yesterday, in my usual fit of cleaning pique, I cleared off the top of my dresser. I found a lot of interesting things, discarded a few "holding on to the memories" sort of things, and actually put a lot of things away. I fear if I'd left it much longer I'd have to call in a professional to deal with it.

Meet Ruth the archaeologist.

More on this awesome lady here.

I have been working on this for several weeks, doing the decluttering that I can, but I think the house has figured me out. It feels like it's actively fighting me. I clear a spot and in a week, it looks as though I have done nothing. The new messes clean up quicker, because they aren't filled with year old trash and sticky things, but it can be frustrating to watch an area that you designed and cleaned by yourself covered over with the same trash and sticky things that you JUST spent all day clearing away.

Well, I'm not one to be deterred. I have been working three and a half years on a tablecloth, knot by knot, I am not going to give any ground on this. Excelsior!

Wait long enough...

Sometimes we teach people the wrong lessons. Sometimes you have to take those lessons and roll with them. The current lesson? Wait long enough, and I will do it.

Recently, on the Home Front Mr. Smith began an experiment to see how much mail he could pile onto the mail holder beside the door (and every other surface).

Turns out, a lot.

There was mail in the pile that dated to April. So in a fit of frustration, I combined a couple of decluttering projects. I moved the filing cabinet that has been my night table into the entry and actually FILED all the bills and things that came in, keeping only the most recent. As for the rest, it has been collected for the next shredding day at the bank. Or I could burn it.

That's about half of it.

So with that done, I have turned my attention to the space where all he large clutter has accumulated. The bassinet, the OTHER bassinet, my old desk chair, and the probably broken stroller. I would rather put these last two on the curb, though I admit I retain a mild affinity for the old desk chair, in reality, I need a chair with a back. I would throw the stroller away, but for hubby who is convinced that if it sits in our living room long enough, it will be fixed and useful by MAGIC! Really, it's too large to take anywhere, and has been replaced by the moby until the Diva can walk on her own.

In other news, I managed a temporary but half-decent fix on the attic ladder, which is necessary with the promised decluttering that Mr. Smith will be giving me for Christmas. Since I finally have my Kingdom of Loathing Tiny Plastic Sword AND a Golden Mr. Accessory, he's not going to get away with cyber gifts. I'm really making him work this year.

I'm making a list.

Okay, it's actually a very short list. The problem is that most of the clutter is Mr. Smith's. I have been paring down my stuff and though my internest can become cluttered from time to time, I clean up regularly because I have a lot of projects running at once.

Currently, I am working on my tatting as usual, while planning a separate lace project and reading about yet another kind of lace. I am also working on the Hobbit Book, aka the Lore Book of the family, starting with my Mom, because I have to start somewhere. I am going to have to buy some of those extender things so I can fit in more pages, but my hope is to have a bio and photo/art page for each family member and spouse. Then I will have a Yearly Summary letter that will be appropriately accessorized. I will probably do that at Thanksgiving, Because anything that happens in the last month can be added on after.

It won't be too big, I'm sure.

Anyway, I've got a lot done, but SO much left to do. Junior is sick and has been home since Monday with a general annoying cold. I hate that he's missed so much, but let's be honest what has he really missed this week education wise? Yes, we are still fighting the school. Yes, 99% of school systems are run by a bunch of jerks who couldn't educate their way out of a paper bag, among other factors involving other people.

This mom's group found out I wanted my son to

study something on his OWN academic level.

Okay folks, I know it's been a while. It has been a busy summer, getting Jr. into a new school, handling the first sinus infection of the season, and of course, our new family members, Boone the Treeing Walker Coonhound and the Diva who shall be called Diana for the purposes of the public blog. I have also started my first tree, a Meyer Lemon named Steve. We are hoping to finish planting our trees and shrubs as autumn falls on us, and I am hoping for some real progress on the five year plan.

I am hoping to have time once a week to do a proper post, but we have seen how that works out. I am cursed with DVD, and I sometimes get distracted by other things. Mostly by the baby, let's be honest.

Another part of the five year garden plan actually came from Mr. Jones, this summer. I had not considered actually putting my jar shelves inset. I should have gotten Mr. Jones some cabinetry books sooner!

Anyway, I'm back to catching up on my stuff. I'm behind from Monday and only JUST getting the sheets washed.

Big Pharma strikes again!

Grab the coffee, friends. This will be a long one.

Might need a few more stamps.

So, though I appreciate the "mend and make do" world of my forebears, I am always appreciative of the wonderful advancements modern science, and especially modern medicine have to offer. Diseases and diagnoses that were death sentences back in the day have become treatable if not curable with modern drugs, technology, and techniques. Knowing several people (and one pet) who would have had their lives shortened considerably without it makes me wonder what the hell those against it are hoping for.

Well, I have an idea.

With that being said, yes, I am trying to go ahead with a pseudo - hippie birth as I did with my son. I may not have wanted interventions, but they were there if I needed them, and goodness knows I am happy about that!

Well with the GDM diagnosis (which was wrong, the doc admitted later), I received the sad news that the hippie birth center no longer worked within a hospital, so I packed up my marbles and picked out the best hospital our insurance would pay for, which is actually a really nice hospital!

The alternative was unthinkable.

Well, after transferring, I realized immediately how good it was I switched to the hospital, for as soon as they did the ultrasound, they knew my little proto-stinker was breech. She had been that way for months, and the same abs that kept me from having the adorable baby belly I have now were holding her in position. It was too late at this point for any sort of baby yoga to work, she was too big for that (right on her weight target though), so we turned to medical science, and the external cephallic version or ECV to give her some help.

I make it a point to read up on medical procedures that I am to undergo, and the related statistics just to know my options and to be a properly informed patient. This is not research, as I don't compile or publish it in any professional capacity, it is just reading. I make this distinction, because I am honestly sick of hearing people bandy about the word "research" as though it gives them legitimacy, while also telling me to "Google it!"

I know too many scientists not to know better.

Well, I knew mostly about the procedure, though I found out more specifics early this week as I asked my medical team about it. I knew I was a good candidate for it, and the doc gave me the go-ahead to attempt and then wait as I reached 38 weeks. Well, he said I had two options, try and wait or turn and induce, so I chose the route that would keep my granola cred as much intact as possible.

Without becoming this.

So yesterday at 6:30 am, we found ourselves checking in to the hospital, statistics and a general knowledge of what was happening in mind. I met Nurse Jennifer, and student nurse Dianne, and they started the dreaded IV! I warned her as I always do that my veins are like teflon paper fire hoses. Hubby was there to back me up, and it resulted in only one stick and a bit of gold digging. They wonder why I hate needles! We did all the vitals, I got a ride back to my doc's offices for another ultrasound, and we returned to meet Dr. McCool, who would perform the proceedure. For those who know, I give my docs nicknames, and since I have trouble with a male OB, most of them are in the Creepy Family. Dr. Creepystein, for instance, has become my main doc, while Dr. Creepy Whitebeard is also there. This guy, however, was go with my desire to maintain hippie cred, so he gets to be Dr. C. McCool.

Maybe not this cool.

Well, Doc informs me that they can first try to turn her using just a smooth muscle relaxer, which used to be an asthma medications, and felt like it should have recreational uses. A shot in the arm, a few minutes, and two attempts later, while not phasing the baby, it was too painful. Years of martial arts and core strengthening made that decision for us. I had not known it was an option to try without an epidural, though I had read that the stats did not favor it. Well, the statistics were trustworthy, and it didn't work. I knew what came next, the needle in the spine. This has been my biggest fear, like being trapped in a maze with a bear made of snakes that hasn't eaten in two days hunting me.

Or this.

Against my fears, and with the knowledge that the epidural would improve our chances for success, I took Student Nurse Diane's hand, sobbed like I was slowly being peeled, and let the very amazingly patient anesthesiologist do his job. Which he did very well, letting us know exactly what was going on, while Bob translated my sobs in responses to questions. They don't tell you what it is like, and I could go into excruciating detail at a later date, but suffice it to say I soon had some powerful narcotics and numbing agents blocking everything from my diaphragm down. They did have to pump me full of epinephrine so my heart rate would remain stable.

Also, it gave me a year's worth of cardio.

Another shot of the muscle relaxer, and I was cool with the world. Though apparently according to my husband, they realized that when I started to babble, my blood pressure was falling, so they had to bump it up. Why is it that every time I take a drug that makes me loopy or woozy, I get more talkative? Well, anyway, I was still scared and upset but like a junkie on four or five Xanax, I no longer had the will to really do anything about it.

So much Xanax!

Also, I was unable to tat. But I tried to keep a good humor when I wasn't sobbing because these nurses go through a lot. Just ask the poor lady who offered me ice chips during my last labor.

No. Ice. Chips.

So the whole crew returned as soon as the ceiling became the most interesting thing in the room, and I held a conversation while Dr. McCool pushed as hard as he could, grunting and straining while regularly checking his progress with an ultrasound. My head was tilted down, and Nurse Jennifer was right there holding my hand so, I was totally unaware of anything south of the chest zeppelins. I did realize at some point that I was naked in front of the room, and I had a pang of modesty, but it was more like an errant thought that got bored and wandered off.

Modesty is for chumps.

Suddenly, everyone was happy. I had to ask to confirm because though I had guessed and am rather sensitive to the moods of others normally, I was not my usual sensitive self.

With about as much muscle control.

The baby is headed south! Success! And baby played honey badger the whole time.

Baby don't care. Baby don't give a crap.

Recovery went well, though for a couple of hours, my left toe had a rhythm in it that could not be denied. Soon, Nurse Emily de-borged me and we came home, six new holes in my body, baby still moving well, though with a new set of sensations to get used to. Hubby and I relaxed and enjoyed a quiet evening (the Boy got an extra night of spoiling thanks to a fantastic Granny), and we trundled off to bed.

Blissfully unaware...

At 2am, the last of the muscle relaxer must have left my system and I remembered why she had not turned on her own. Remember when I mentioned my awesome abs? Yeah, I remembered, too. I also remembered that having a "resting" heart rate in the 130 range for a couple of hours should have given me a headache. It did, DOMS style.

Ow.

Headache, back ache, ache from every wound that had something shoved in it, and the lateral abs that had been holding her back. Well, no pain, no gain, right? At least we have the machine that goes "ping!"