Category Archives: search for crunchiness

commercialism, laziness, and not so much with the weaning

We’ve ordered a Little Mermaid cake. The Bird is obsessed with Her Fishy-taled-ness lately. I’m cranky. There’s a thread on my local mommy board about how many of the mamas shun licensed characters and TV. It brought up some icky feelings. Loving the concept of monitoring all that your kids are exposed to and keeping their childhood as innocent as humanly possible. (Also am very sick of fast-forwarding through the scary bits and feeling guilt for letting her watch videos that are too mature for her. And in less coherent moments of annoyance, raging at Disney for being such a twisted bunch of scary fucks in the first place.)

However: I’m absolutely too exhausted from thinking about every little thing. Also pretty sure that a Disney-inclusive childhood did not ruin me. She has massive mermaid squee and it’s hard to ban anything that makes the munchkin that freaking happy. (The video came in a load of hand-me-downs and she was enchanted from the moment she saw the box. A fishy! A princess! A princess who is fishlike! zOMG!)

Is it just laziness that makes me resent the feeling that doing things in accordance with my parenting intuition is a constant uphill battle against everyone and everything in our environment? It’s not a real big deal to me, this Disney Princess thingy- I suggested the cake theme. It’s just swimming ’round there in my brain, being examined. I’m just sick to death of feeling like I have good ideas but not doing anything about them because it’s easier to flow. Swim with the school. Snerk. I just wonder what it means that I take the easy way so often… I’m pretty sure it means

I am very, very tired
and have to cut myself some slack from the uber-granola ideals I have.

To address that, Bu has suggested that I leave the house a few nights at bedtime to let him take over. Maybe I can sneak back in and she’ll stay in bed with him. The weaning trend has reversed, and I’ve had to nurse her to sleep and through the days too. Then, of course, all through the nights. As tomorrow is the birthday, I think Friday night will be a better time to start the experiment. It also happens that a bunch of girls are going to see Sex and the City and have drinks that night, so the timing is good.

The Ariel thing isn’t all fraught with commercial anxieties, anyway. I read the Hans Christian Anderson story when I was young and I love it, so there’s some sentimentality watching her love the story too. Maybe I’ll get her the real version when she’s older and I’ll feel better. I had thought of making my own illustration and having a non-Disney mermaid cake, but- again- exhausted.

sleep article: hear mama bear growl

Edit: Just deleted whole text of my post and moved it to Wabi Sabi Mamas:) Sorry for any blips or confusion in Feed Readers. Here’s an exerpt:

…says that co-sleeping can contribute to frequent waking and uses the previous study to show that co-sleeping is undesirable. However, the study didn’t address continuous sleep versus sleep with wakings.

In the article’s defense, I’m totally on board with the TV restrictions.

In crunchy parenting’s defense, don’t you fucking call mamas who sleep with their babies “maladaptive.”


Overheard last night chez DaisyBones: *Achoo!* “Don’t sneeze in mommy’s gluten!”

To make gluten “meat” from regular whole wheat flour, you mix up dough with cold water and about 4 cups of flour. Knead it for 15 minutes-ish, maybe less. Mine was a little chewier than I’d like.

Put it in a bowl and cover with cold water. Let sit 45-60 minutes.

Knead it under the water. The starches will come out and make it cloudy. Replace water, repeat until insane. I never did get my water clear but mine was OK. When it’s good and rubbery, pick of little pieces and drop into a big pan of boiling veggie broth with splashes of soy sauce and steak sauce added. Simmer about 20 or 30 minutes. If you wantto, pull out the gluten meat with a slotted spoon and add flour and whisk into the broth until gravy consistency.

Serve with instant mashed potatoes so that, like me, you can have a good laugh at yourself for making homemade faux meat but slacking on the potatoes but at least you fulfilled your craving for meat and potatoes with gravy.

Meat eating readers? Don’t laugh too hard. It really is edible;)


I was in the ninth circle of gastroinstestinal hell this weekend. Dinner Friday was a (really amazingly delish) cheesy pizza, half a pan of Krispy treats, and two cheap beers. Breakfast the following morning killed me. The grandies made omelets and biscuits and breakfast rice (do y’all eat that outside WV? It’s rice with milk, vanilla, and 100 pounds of white sugar.) I ate enough for three people. Then I didn’t shit for two days, and barely ate because I felt that horrible stuffed feeling the whole weekend. I could not digest that freaking breakfast. Yesterday I felt so sick. So I finally pooped after laxative intervention and it was heavenly and I have mostly consumed smoothies for two days.

I feel like the binge drinker who has the hangover from hell and swears off booze until next weekend, but I really have been feeling like hell when I eat white flour and dairy stuff. I eat this heavy junk and I feel so sluggish and gunked up I can’t stand myself. I’m annoyed at the inconvenience of my insight- it sucks to have to put so much goddamn effort into nutrition when my grocery stores and family make it so much easier to just dump processed calories into my gut and call it good if there’s no actual meat going in.

I have this thing. I have huge grandiose ideas. I am going to Revamp My Life, and also Change the World. Oh, wait… that requires effort? Mmm. Er, oh. Sheeessss. Nevermind.

This thing I have? Laziness. It’s annoying to admit that. I want to have some complex and interesting thing going on, or some like… psychological diagnosis. Some excuse, actually.

But no. I’m just fucking lazy.

on being mentally exhausted and also, a mother. and a wannabe bitch.

OMG does this make me a post-post-feminist?

I grabbed Bitch off my shelf of books I have had forfreakingever but haven’t read. I’m like 3 pages into the introduction and I’m seriously annoyed that every single example Elizsabeth Wurtzel has given of bad-girl-ness involves women engaged in sexy badness, being the bad girl of men’s wet dreams. Tell me it gets better, because I really do connect right now- really, really, really- with what I think she’s trying to say.


But this frontispeice quote is fucking amazing:

Down with a world in which the guarantee that we will not die of starvation has been purchased with the guarantee that we will die of boredom.

-Situationist graffiti from 1968 Paris


Why did I unleash a huge freakout on my husband this week? Continue reading

because IV tubing and shiny machines (ping!) are too dazzling to compete with actual evidence

Despite mountains and mountains of evidence supporting not only the safety of homebirth, but its superiority over hospital birth with regards to normal pregnancies, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists has issued a statement condemning births that take place at home.

Clearly we could be doing more as a country to make sure that we have an even higher C-section rate, even scarier infant and mother mortality numbers, and much, much more fear. Without fear, there are so few epidurals, and without epidurals, well gosh- we might have smaller bills, and fewer interventions. The OB’s would starve.

The best thing about being a mommyblogger and not a reputable news source? Free and copious use of snark. And I can just tell you to google home birth is safer or somesuch and get on with my life in lieu of providing refuting evidence.

Now a raging sinus infection? That’s a potential need for a doctor. And there’s my segue to tell you I have an actual fever, and am taking a sick day- again- and to warn of a probably orgy of posting.

compact florescent lightbulbs and mercury

I just learned today that CFLs have mercury. Just a wee bit, but the official instructions are to try to ventilate your house if one breaks. Zow. It’s less than a household thermometer, anyway. The big problem is getting them recycled. Most places don’t make it easy at all- IKEA has a take back program, apparently, but we have no IKEA.

We haven’t switched yet, because we keep seeing the cheap old fashioned kind right there and the price tags override our green intentions- which are lame as hell if you average them together. I care this much: “OMG Save my Goddess-Mother!!!!!!!!!!!!! Buy cloth everything* and clean the house with baking soda! Eat vegan and read by soy candle light!” and Bu cares this much: “meh.”

When we get some, I’ll have to figure out what to do with them after use.

Some links:

NPR article
GE’s FAQ about the bulbs and their mercury content
EPA Statement about CFLs (pdf)

*I said I care that much, not that I’ve done all this yet. (Thinking guiltily of my Pampers…)