I need a flux capacitor

Joaquin is fast asleep. I didn't even have time to slip his boots off, the kid is totally zonked. I could probably go play drums, if I had any, in there right now and it wouldn't wake him. I have the door open, I am clanking around the house and nothing but snooze, snooze, snooze and little baby dreams.
Most days I get pretty excited when the super sleepies take over. I get a chance to clean up in an efficient way, listen to podcasts, do one of my workout videos or stare at the computer. It's the ultimate lunch break. But today I really want him to wake back up. I've gone in twice and sweetly called out "Joaaaaquiiiiin" and nothing, not even a stir.

Just an hour or so ago, mama, in her haste made a little errand boo-boo. I proactively decided to get actual prints of our Hawaii vacation photos just in case the laptop demons decided to claim the souls of our computers. We have thousands of photos just waiting to disappear, haunting us for a lifetime.

I have the photo center at Target to myself and I am glad because I'm not totally sure what all is on the discs I have. I know I'll be doing some croping and editing and I don't want to feel like someone is looking over my shoulder at my pre doctored up and approved pics. Out of hundreds of pictures I choose 13 that are print worthy. That seems kind of sad, but with every single handheld device having a camera, it's easy to take masses of unlovable photos. I decide to have everything put on to discs, just to have back up in case I ever change my mind about the hundreds we didn't print. After placing my order, my receipt prints with a pick up time an hour and a half later at the one hour photo booth (ahem). We take a lap around Target, buy some photo album pages and walk to the other end of the strip mall to Starbucks.
Joaquin gets a kids-soy-one pump-hot cocoa-no vanilla-no whip cream and I get a latte. We sit so we can see all the action in the parking lot. School buses go by, delivery trucks, security cars...this is Joaquin's dream location, cars and trucks of all types, non-stop. He half sips, half spills his lukewarm cocoa down his shirt and looks quite charming doing so. I let him play with my phone. I notice my wallet is on the other side of the table so I reach over and sweep it into my bag. It's been an hour since ordering our prints so I pick Joaquin up and walk back to Target.
It's still pretty cold out. Last year it was 70 degrees on March 1st. Not this year. It's been hovering around 35 for the last couple of weeks. The wind is hitting my forehead in an unappealing way and my kid is wiggling in my grip every time he wants to get a better look at a vehicle. It occurs to me that it's three o'clock and I haven't given J any lunch. I create a little mom guilt stress bubble to live in. Eating schedules are really hard for me. I've been a all day grazer for as long as I can remember. Sometimes when I sit down to a plate of food, it makes me feel kind of nauseous. This is why, if you know me, you never hear me say, "hey, wanna go out for lunch?"
Anyhow.

We have the photo center to ourselves again, so I position myself to flag down any Target employee that makes eye contact with me. Joaquin is standing close and is quiet, but I can tell that he is on a countdown. We need to go home and have a snack and maybe a nap, soon. I pick him up and set him on the counter and I can see our photos sitting there. An employee comes over and asks if I need help and I say that I'm here to pick up my pictures and I tell her my name and she picks up my prints. As she looks at her computer she takes one of the discs out of the burner.
"Oh." she says. "There are five discs. Um, your order isn't ready. That time on your receipt is just an estimate. It's probably going to take another half an hour."
"Mmmmm." I say. " I don't have a half an hour."
"What?" she says.
"I don't have a half an hour. Can you just cancel the discs? I'll just take the prints."
"I already started them, so I have to make the order." she says.
"I don't have another half an hour." I say, quite dryly. " Can you just sell me the prints?"
"Do you want to pick up the discs later?" she asks.
"Sure."
I wasn't smiling and I know I was giving her my 'you annoy me right now' eyes and she was giving me the 'you are an unreasonable mom-lady' look. She rings up my order and gives me the total and as I dig through my bag it's becoming clearer and clearer that I don't have my wallet. I put Joaquin back on the ground and dump my entire bag on the floor of Target. Napkins, lip balm, wadded up I-don't-know-whats all on the ground for all to see, but no wallet.
"I don't have my wallet." I say to the woman I've just been short with.
"What?" she says.
"I don't have my wallet. I'm sorry. I have to go." I pick Joaquin up and run/walk/shlep us back to Starbucks and look at the table, under the table, all around the table where we were sitting. I ask the barista. No wallet. I kind of want to cry. I put Joaquin in the car and call the bank to put my credit card and debit card on hold. As we pull into our driveway, Joaquin falls asleep.


I sit in front of my computer wondering if my wallet is in the trash at the coffee shop. It wouldn't be the first time I put the important thing I was holding into the trash. I call my husband and tell all.
"Do you think I'm an idiot?" I ask.
"No. Not at all. You should call Starbucks, though. Ask them to maybe look in the trash, or even just set that trash aside so you can look through it. It's totally worth it."
I look up the Starbucks in our shopping center and give them a call. For some reason, the number I dial calls Target. I decide to ask them about my wallet since I have them on the line.
"What's your name?" Customer service says.
I tell them.
"Yes. You dropped it in the film drop slot at photo processing." she says.
"Really?" I say. "Wow! Thank you so much. I'll be right over." It takes me a minute but I remember that there is a Starbucks in Target and that's how I ended up calling them. When I sat J up on the counter, I must of pushed my wallet into the slot. As I breathe a sigh of relief I find myself wishing I could rearrange my day however I want. Change the order of things so I could actually complete small little tasks without throwing my whole day into upheaval. It's kind of draining to fly by the seat of my pants all the time. Even now, when I know where my life encased in vinyl is, I will sit here patiently and wait for my son to wake.

Stop yelling at me. I'm grateful.

Every time I open the garage door these days, Joaquin's eyes widen and he shouts something that sounds a lot like "Die! Die! Die!" One may think that this is his baby battle cry against the wasps that want desperately to nest in the rafters, but I know better. This is simply baby babble for "let's play basketball."

We became joggers this summer and whenever we get back to our driveway I retrieve the ball and we shoot some hoops. Or, I shoot some hoops. I was never a WNBA hopeful (tho I may be tall enough), and I'm kind of overall a clutsy gal, but I have always loved to shoot baskets. Now I have an audience. He squeals when I make one and he laughs when I don't. I sit him on the blacktop and he stares and smiles and waves his baby arms in the air until I pass (roll) the ball his way. He catches it, pauses, and rolls the ball back and I attempt another basket. He loves this.

Yesterday I noticed he was doing something different. I passed to him like usual and he caught it, but then he lifted the ball in both arms, looked up and then bounced the ball and let it roll away. We did this over in over until all of a sudden I realized, he's trying to shoot a basket. His little toddler body is a good 15 feet away from the goal. With the ball in his hands his eyes barely peek over the top, but there is no denying he is looking and aiming. He is attempting something that is physically impossible, doing it over and over, and enjoying every minute of it. He loves trying, even when success is very far away.

What an amazing life lesson.

I have learned so much about that this summer. That trying is fun. Most of Joaquin's favorite activities are ones he can't really do at all. He loves puzzles. Or, he loves to put his hand on the pieces while I put them in place, kind of Ouija board style. He likes to draw on the porch. Just straight lines that mom morphs into pictures of ugly pigs and stars and weird sesame street creatures.

I am so grateful to be reminded that frustration isn't always part of the process.

A one year old's favorite toys...did I buy any of them?

He scoots, he babbles, he plays with toys! I have a toddler and all of a sudden different plastic and wooden trinkets elicit the biggest smiles of the day.

I find it hard not to want to give my child all of the toys I once loved. I was probably a day pregnant when I started searching for wooden blocks on the Internet. I still miss my Fisher Price record player. I wonder if they have little ipod docks that are kid friendly...

I have a prejudice against any talking, light up, signing, toys. How annoying! It would seem obvious to me that those toys are an insult to my baby's intelligence.

This past Christmas, Joaquin was only eight months old, so we knew that it would be silly to go overboard. My husband and I don't exchange gifts anymore, but we bought a few things for Joaquin. We gave him some plushies in the shapes of athletic balls, legos, and a kit to make paper bag puppets. No bells, no whistles. At that age a great toy was anything he could put in his mouth or drop on the floor, so we did pretty good.

On his first birthday things had changed. He is interacting with objects more. There is stuff in the world that fascinates him, like robins and cars. We bought him toys, and family gave him toys, and friends gave him toys. Sometimes it seems like we have toys in most corners of our house!

As the days post birthday rolled by, there were some clear winners in the toy department.
1) The cake. Okay, I never in two trillion years would have picked this out. It is everything I despise in a toy. It sings birthday songs with lines like "we're having a birthday we're singing it live." There are five candles that light up and a sensor so you can blow out the candles (okay, I admit to thinking that last feature is kind of cool). Joaquin is obsessed with it. Obsessed. He pushes the buttons over and over and bobs his little head to the music. He can spot it across the room and butt-hops over to it in seconds. He points to it and does his 'I love you' coo.
I really can't complain. This cake buys me some time. I can run down some laundry, jump on my rebounder, or even take a shower.
2) Mankind. This wasn't a birthday present. It was actually a Christmas present for my husband about 3 years ago. While visiting my family back home, my nephew looked at my man and said, "you look like Mankind." We both asked who that was. My brother cracked up and said "he does look like Mankind." He brought up Mankind's photo on some wrestling website. I saw something about a wrestler named Triple H.
"Who's Triple H?" I asked. "A co-worker used to call me that."
My brother laughed again. "Your going to be pissed." The following Christmas we received Mankind and Triple H in the mail.
Anyway, Mankind does kind of look like my baby's dad, so maybe that's why he takes this figure all over town. A couple of weeks ago we were attending baby story hour and I looked in Joaquin's lap and there was Mankind. I didn't even know he had him. As far as I can remember, Mankind was the first toy my baby knew by name.
3) The inchworm. This colorful caterpillar rolls across the floor when you push down on it's back, or pull it backwards. This cracks my child up to no end. He can't quite figure out how it works yet, but I best not walk by with it in my hand if I don't want to play "ready, set, go."
4) The old school clock.
I'm not sure if I personally had this toy, but if you are over 30, you've seen it. It's just one of those things you saw in every toy box, garage sale, and dentist's office. Fisher Price has been pulling at my heartstrings and re-releasing some of it's old toys like real wooden Lincoln Logs and Tinker Toys. He seems to love figuring out how the knob in the back controls the music.
5) Golf ball, bouncy ball, sky ball, or mom's balancing ball. Any kind of ball, or even things that resemble a ball and can be chucked across the room, like an apple.
I probably can't convince you with a picture, but my son can throw! It's kinda crazy. His aim is very good and right now I have to say balls are the big winner in the gift line up.
And I didn't buy any of these.

I'm sure this will all change. Maybe even by the time I publish this post! But I don't worry...there are plenty of toys out there. The library saves the day!

the elephant in the room

I changed by not changing at all- Eddie Vedder

About fifteen years ago I found myself in a hamburger joint ordering a Hawaiian burger and a strawberry shake. This may sound like a typical day in a 19 year old's life, but it wasn't for me. For the year and a half prior I had been living as a vegan. I had just moved in with a new roommate and I found myself feeling really tired and unsatisfied. I didn't have much money. I worked at a bakery and pretty much lived on day old bread I could get for free. I absorbed a lot of jokes about my diet and ran out of come-backs and fast facts as to why I had cut out all meat, fish, dairy and eggs. I woke up one morning and decided I was done.

Many people will say that if you eat meat after being vegan, it will make you sick. I found that not to be the case. It made me feel good. Some people say that meat just is too gross after being vegan. I've never been grossed out by meat. I spent a good part of my life eating it no problem, and that fact was never lost on me.

After that meal, I started eating meat and dairy again. It didn't seem like a big deal.

Until...3 years ago when I found myself thumbing through some of my old cookbooks and listening to vegan podcasts. I bought a couple of new cookbooks, began preparing vegan goods and right around Thanksgiving 2007, my husband and I decided to eat vegan all of the time.

It was great. We both lost about 15 pounds and loved hanging out and cooking in the kitchen. We stopped going out to eat almost altogether. We broke the news to our families as it came up. For the most part, they liked the idea and many were hip to the ethical argument and the health benefits. It didn't hurt that I cooked for them whenever I could.

But something started happening to me about a month ago. I just felt kind of wasted. At first I just thought it was because my baby is still breastfeeding sooo much. Probably 10 times a day. Then I started having massive cravings. For salmon and eggs, specifically. I asked my husband if we should start eating fish.
"You've been asking me that a lot lately." He said.
"I have?" I asked.
Maybe it didn't help that at the same time I discovered and became obsessed with this blog. I couldn't take it. I called my husband at work and said that I really wanted some eggs. He offered to buy some for me. This surprised me, I thought he'd talk me out of it, but at the same time, my husband isn't really the type to pass judgement...which is only one of the reasons why he rocks. He delivered the eggs, I asked him if he wanted some (he didn't), and I fried two eggs and made a piece of toast. I ate them while sitting on the couch.

They were good. They weren't, like, the best thing I've ever tasted, but c'mon, they're eggs and I really know how to cook vegan food. Before I ate them I wondered if I was jumping off a cliff. Would I be frying burgers on my griddle next? Truth be told, I really don't think so. What I do think is that I am going from a TOTALLY plant based diet to one that is about 95% plant based. That isn't exact math. I just mean that I am going to eat small amounts of dead animals and their products when necessary.

The fact that being a veg*n might have some social restrictions on Joaquin plays out in my mind a lot, too. Most of me is totally okay with it. I had to endure sack lunches with homemade whole wheat bread and fuzzy peaches and I survived. I'm not so naive to think he won't stray on his own at some point. He may spend all of his elementary school days dreaming of bologna and Doritos like I did. I'm hoping that not putting such a strong label on our eating style will have a better outcome than being "that mean mom that doesn't let her kid have ice cream at the birthday party" might.

But who knows. I may change my mind.

everyone has fun at music class

Joaquin and I attend a music class once a week. I found it when googling "mom and baby classes Indianapolis." We had just finished swimming lessons (I'm planning on doing that again, soon), and needed a new activity to keep us involved in the world outside of our backyard.
After the first class I wondered if I hadn't made this purchase in haste. We attend baby story hour at the library once a week as well, and there is singing and stories and socializing, for free! I've decided over time that it is worth it. The music class has more structure to it. We received a companion CD and are expected to learn the songs for maximum participation. You get to know all the names of the kids in class, right from the beginning. Our instructor, Ms. Sheryl, gives all of the kids one on one attention by singing a pattern to them as they sit on her lap...and Joaquin gobbles it up! We sing, we dance, we play instruments.
Last week a little girl who looks to be about 3 came in wearing a bright pink tulle skirt. She sat in a circle with the rest of us for about 5 minutes and then went running around the room, round and round and round. Joaquin watched her with great interest. He began to spin around on his butt so he could watch her every move. As she ran by him he sat up as tall as possible and held out his little hand to her as if to say, "take me with you, fairy princess." Stuff like this is what it's all about. Seriously. So cute.
I may have even made a new friend at The Music Playhouse. The more I stay home with my baby, the more I realize I need some girlfriends. Recently, one of my mom's friends found me on facebook and told me, "the first time I met your mom she was wearing pink rollers in her hair and was pulling you and your brother in a wagon. She looked at me and said ' I prayed that God would send me a best friend, and you are it!'" I think about that all the time. I know exactly how Mom felt.
I'm a pretty shy person when it comes to making new friends, so I am very thankful that this music class mom approached me. When asked where she got her baby's pants, she replied, "I made them." Ding! Ding! Ding! I want to make baby pants! We exchanged phone numbers and will attempt a baby in the park day very soon.
Joaquin loves music class and I do to. The class is at the groovy Riviera Club that sits on the white river. So pretty.

pediatrician for sale

"Don't make me angry. You won't like me when I'm angry." -David Banner.

There comes a day in all awesome parents lives when they have to see their little one sustain an injury. My baby is slowing learning to walk and stand so I suspect that I'll see a few bumps and bonks in the next few months. He's so curious. Reaching for big books on coffee tables. Yanking on anything cord-like he can grab. I can put up all of the baby gates for sale on Ebay, but the truth is, babies are quick!
Little did I know that Joaquin's first injury would be compliments of the one who claims to lead our "wellness visits." Dr. Bill, (not his real name) has never really impressed me. He forgets that we don't eat animal products almost every visit (we've quit reminding him and just say mmmmm, ooohhhh, when he suggests cottage cheese, again). He repeats himself. He has a special way of making one feel like they are just a number, just a paycheck, and the more appointments he can fly through in a day, the better. Exactly the opposite of what I want for my baby.
After our 9 month visit, my husband turned to me and said, "so, you think we've outgrown Dr. Bill?"
"Yep," I said "we've heard the same spiel about 4 times."
So, we knew that we needed to find a new pediatrician. But time flies and we found ourselves at the 1 year visit, bracing for another round of immunizations that I continue to try to get comfortable with (another blog post, maybe). We were shown to our examination room, undressed the babe down to cloth diaper and let him stand on the table while holding our hands for stability. Dr. Bill walked in and Joaquin got suspicious. The doctor gave him a couple of tongue depressors and a tape measure to check out. Joaquin gave him the "I play with Lego's and puppets" look. The doctor measured his length and squeezed his belly. Joaquin cried out. Dr. Bill asked if he was trying to walk yet.
"Yes!" We both said, "if you hold his hands, he'll walk across the floor."
"Good" said Dr. Bill.
He placed Joaquin on the scale and weighed him. Then, in one quick move he picked him up, stood him up on the floor, and immediately let go. We watched Joaquin stand on his own for about 3 seconds and then tip forward and faceplant, hands by his sides on the carpet. You could see his little face slide forward as his body came crashing down. Ouch. The doctor, while in the best position to grab him as he went down, just watched. Joaquin gasped then howled. Dad snatched him up.
I thought, what the heck? I was stunned. I was sickened. I grabbed at my screaming baby and immediately noticed the red peeling, rug-burned skin.
"He's got a rug burn." I said.
"Let me see his face," said Dr. Bill. "Awww, buddy, you're okay."
He went on to say how nice and tall he is, usually they fall on their butts, he's got a different center of gravity because of his height.
Oh yeah, never mind that I never said he could stand on his own, nor did you ask or warn us that you were about to let him free fall. Jerk.
He said that he looked great developmentally, talked a little about the vaccines to be administered and wished us a nice summer.
"Absolutely." I squeaked out.
After the appointment we went outside and Joaquin immediately began to settle down.
"We're done with that guy," I said to my husband.
Then he said that Joaquin's eye looked weird. So now we have an otherwise perfect baby with a scratched up face and an eye injury. So much for wellness.

I went to work later that day and had the faceplant on replay all night long. Only now there were about 10 different endings to choose from. The one where I yell "why did you do that?" and one where I snatch up my baby and storm off, never to return. And of course, one where my husband knocks him out cold. I was stressed.
Late that night I came home to a sparkling clean house and a husband saying "I feel very strongly that we should never go to Dr. Bill again."
"Me too."
My husband had spent the night on replay as well. He googled just about everything you could google on eye scratches and called one of the doctors in the family. He decides that Joaquin needs to see an Opthamologist. The more we talk, the worse I feel. I decide to go right to bed so I can snuggle up with my son.
On the way to the pediatric opthomologist's office, I do something I should have done over a year ago. I take the business card out of my wallet for a nurse practitioner who doubles as a naturopath and has an office in Indianapolis. She was highly recommended by a friend and I really wanted to check it out. I make the call and say that we have a one year old and we would like to take him in for his wellness visits. The woman on the phone tells me that they don't give shots, but have a family practice. She tells me that Joaquin can see the nurse at The Complimentary Medicine Center and get his immunizations at the health dept. for free. We make our first appointment.
Which brings me to this. Why have a pediatrician anyway? All mine does is measure, weigh, and poke. His office hasn't been all together helpful when I've had an urgent question, and vaccines are FREE? I have insurance and only make a small co-pay, but the bill for each visit at Dr. Bill's office is over 500 dollars every time.
At the eye doctor we find out the the baby's eye is healing fine on it's own. As we drive Joaquin home he babbles and laughs and enjoys his new front facing carseat position. He's good. We're good.
Dr. Bill, you're fired.

the open air cafe

I love to walk. I especially love to walk to a coffee shop, with Joaquin. Having a destination gives me more spring in my step. If I am left to wander, I wander slowly. I have a total cafe crush on the Monon Coffee Co. in Broad Ripple. They have locally roasted coffee, fresh juice from a juicer and smoothies. They even have a few vegan treats like carrot cake and cookies.
I dream of a coffee shop where all of the goodies are animal and cane sugar free, but it just doesn't exist in Indy yet. I've come up with these muffins to fill in the blank. They travel well, aren't too sweet and are soft and cake like.
Carrot date muffins
1 cup of whole white wheat flour
1/4 cup garbanzo bean flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
1/3 cup grapeseed oil
1/3 cup agave nectar (dark)
1 cup unsweetend soymilk
1 tsp vanilla
4 chopped pitted medjool dates
1 shredded carrot
Preheat to 400.
combine all of your dry indgredients in one bowl and the wet in another. combine the two and add the carrot and the dates. spoon into an oiled muffin tin. this recipe makes nine muffins. fill the empty ones with water for nice soft muffins. bake for 20-25 minutes. remove them from the pan and let them completely cool before eating as those dates can be hot hot hot!

Throw a couple of these in your backpack and when you get your coffee you can sit outside and enjoy a veg-friendly treat too!

I am slowly introducing grains into my babies diet. Wheat is kind of a big question mark as far as allergies go. I seem to feel a bit better when I cut back on it. I almost made these with Bob's Red Mill all purpose Gluten free mix. So far, I haven't noticed any problems like the tell-tale ring around the booty. We shall see.

Back at home we are still working on our fork skills and soaking up this outstanding Spring weather. Joaquin is eating up his veggies and enjoying a few new foods. I've started including some baby friendly crunchy snacks with his lunch. He loves Veggie Sticks. We call them fa fies. That's silly baby speak for french fries. Joaquin is enjoying green beans, half of a muffin with home made pumpkin seed/almond/cashew/macadamia nut butter (thinned a little), fa fies, and scrambled tofu with nutritional yeast. Guess what he went for first? He's no dummy.