Poor Old Pincushion

Yesterday morning Jack, Poppy, and I were just returning from our walk when I heard A. exclaim, "Oh no! Mia got into a porcupine!"

Oh no, indeed.

Not only had she encountered a porcupine, she apparently tried to bite it. I know this because she had at least two dozen quills all over her nose and inside her mouth. She couldn't close her mouth, and she was dripping saliva and blood all over. It was gruesome.

It got a lot more gruesome when A. started pulling the quills out and the blood started coming faster. I pulled out a few that were in her feet, and I was shocked at how thick and stiff the quills were, as well as deeply embedded. My previous experience had been with removing cactus spines from our dog in Arizona. This was much, much worse.

After a few minutes trying to remove them ourselves with hands, tweezers, and pliers, I asked A. to just take her to the veterinarian in the village. He put her in the car and took off, not even calling first. Three hours and $80 later, Mia was back home and weaving drunkenly around as she worked off the last of the anesthetic.

And through all of that, she didn't make a single sound or try to bite. Still the best dog.

She appears to be fully recovered this morning. I think she's learned her lesson about porcupines. I just hope she doesn't encounter a bear next.

Just a Mother's Day in Paradise

I know, I know. Yesterday was Mother's Day. I was supposed to be posting pictures of my breakfast in bed and telling stories about the cute cards my kids made for me.

No can do, my lovelies. Sorry.

I did get some cards and things made at school, but I got those on Friday because Cubby and Charlie couldn't wait to give them to me.

I did not have breakfast in bed (nor did I want it), but I did sleep in until 6 a.m. And I did make my own breakfast without making anything for anyone else, AND manage to eat it before anyone came circling around demanding to eat what I was eating (bacon, eggs, and a rice cake with blackberry jelly--toast stand-in, as I'm not eating wheat still).

Poppy has a cold, and thus was fussy and drippy at church. The others were . . . spirited. It was a challenging service to get through.

I did get a picture of me with all the kids before church, though. That was my Mother's Day request. A. took them on his phone and hasn't sent them to me yet, so I can't post one, but I think they came out okay. If they did, it's only because I bribed my stubborn sons with candy to act normal for thirty seconds during the photo shoot.

I took a nap in the afternoon, talked to my brother and mom on the phone, and had a gin and lime. Then I made dinner and let A. clean it up and put the kids to bed.

It was a day in which I was a mother. A day designated as official Mother's Day, but still just a day among every other day in which I am a mother. No matter what Hallmark may have you believe, this is how the official day looks with very young kids.

Happy belated Mother's Day to all my comrades. I hope yours looked just as you hoped it would.

Friday Food: Still Solo and Not Loving It

Friday

Short version: Bunless cheeseburgers, leftover rice, cucumbers with vinegar and salt

Long version: The most notable thing about this unexciting meal was that A. arrived home from his week-long absence just as I was dishing it up, so he ate with us. Everyone was very excited. They also appreciated the radishes he had picked up at the excellent produce store along the way (along with lettuce and apples for me, because he still loves me and doesn't want me to die from e. coli caused by infected western-grown lettuce).

Saturday

Short version: Soft tacos, pan-fried sweet potato cubes, asparagus

Long version: The lack of electricity wasn't going to stop me from celebrating Cinco de Mayo, dammit.  I ALWAYS celebrate Cinco de Mayo, even if it's in the lamest way possible. I had already purchased some limes and two avocados--which at $1.50 EACH should at least have had some gold filigree on the skins or something. I was ready. And I have a propane stove and a grill. Who needs electricity?

So! I seasoned two London broil steaks with lime juice, chili powder, garlic powder, cumin, and salt about an hour before I had A. grill them for me. He also warmed up the corn tortillas (wrapped in foil) on the grill.

I sliced the meat thin for the tacos, and everyone could choose among grated cheese, salsa, sour cream, diced shallot, lettuce, pieces of lime to squeeze, and the incredibly expensive avocado for their toppings.

I cooked the sweet potatoes on the stove in olive oil, then took them out and cooked the asparagus in the same pan with the same olive oil. Reducing dishes is paramount when you're without running water.

You know what else lime is good for besides seasoning tacos? Seasoning gin. Feliz Cinco de Mayo!

Sunday

Short version: A fun and exciting picnic dinner

Long version: A. was gone again. Charlie had baseball practice from 4-5 p.m. in the village. Cubby had baseball practice from 6-7:30 p.m. at a different field in the village. There was no time to come home for dinner. Picnic dinner at the playground it is! The children were thrilled with the fact that they got to play at two different playgrounds (the ones nearest to the two different fields) AND eat dinner at a playground.

Right before we left at 3:30 p.m. I made hamburgers and wrapped them in foil. They were still warm when we ate. To the picnic bag (I don't own anything so fancy as a dedicated picnic basket, probably because I don't really like picnics personally) I added some bread to make the hamburgers into sandwiches, a random bag of take-out ketchup packets and plastic utensils from a restaurant meal with my parents months ago that I kept meaning to throw away because when will I ever use them (now, it turns out), and two treats purchased at the grocery store that morning after church: Fritos and Fruit Roll Ups.

Did you know that Fruit Roll Ups now come with designs on them you can press to your tongue to make a tongue tattoo? They do. It's gross.

We need a random photo break, right? Let's travel back in time to December of 2016.

Three boys and a beaver pond. They love making Fruit Roll Up tattoos on their tongues. Ew.

Monday

Short version: Tuna patties, scrambled eggs, rice, curried cauliflower

Long version: This was the day after I finished three weeks of the elimination diet, and the very first thing I re-introduced was eggs. Thus, I had two fried eggs for breakfast and scrambled eggs for dinner. Let me just tell you how nice it was to not be begrudgingly chewing leftover meat first thing in the morning. VERY NICE.

The boys had the tuna patties. Except Charlie, who only ate rice because he went outside just before dinner and discovered the remaining Fritos in the car where I was keeping them for purposes of bribery during future baseball games/practices. He covertly ate them all and then mysteriously wasn't hungry for dinner.

His meal of rice and Fritos seemed to give him enough energy for his baseball game after dinner, though. Elite athletes, take note.

Tuesday

Short version: Roasted chicken 'n' stuff, leftover rice, peas

Long version: Yup, another one of those gross chicken leg dinners. I filled up two sheet pans with the chicken and other stuff from the fridge (sweet potatoes, mushrooms, onions, carrots), and heated up the leftover rice in the chicken juices.

And then we all went to a baseball practice. And a playground. Because that is now our life.

Wednesday

Short version: Chicken sandwiches, cucumbers with salt and vinegar, carrot sticks with ranch dressing

Long version: I purposely made the big pan of chicken Tuesday to have leftovers for this very meal. It was over 80 degrees again, and we had two baseball games at 6 p.m. at different fields for which I was, again, the sole parent/chauffeur. I just felt the simpler I could make meal preparation and clean-up, the better for my already challenged mental state.

I made most of the chicken into curried chicken salad, basically by making this dip and mixing it with the diced chicken and some finely diced shallots. I understand some people put grapes in this kind of chicken salad. I did not.

Cubby loves both curry and chicken salad, so I knew he would love it. Charlie loves neither of those things, so I saved some of the chicken for him to have a plain chicken sandwich with just butter on the bread. Jack ate a curried chicken salad sandwich. I ate the plain chicken in a salad.

Poppy watched us all eat with great interest, but no actual food. Soon, my girl. Soon.

Thursday

Short version: Ribeye steaks, rice, peas, leftover curried cauliflower

Long version: Who cares what we had for dinner? A. finally came home and we didn't have any baseball activity after dinner. Ribeye steak was just a bonus.

Okay, your turn! What'd you eat this week?

The Long Awaited Day

During every terrible period of sleep with a baby--or rather, lack of sleep--there is always the hope that maybe this will be the night the baby sleeps. You never really know when it will happen, you see. You become accustomed to going to bed anticipating being awake every two hours during the night, and getting up in the morning requiring you to literally pry your eyelids open with your fingers.

Or rather, I get accustomed to that. Resigned, even.

But I also know--this not being my first, second, or even third child--that there will come one miraculous night when I will wake up several hours after going to sleep, totally disoriented because it has not been only two hours since the last time I had to haul my desperately exhausted body out of bed to care for a baby. You just never know when that night may come.

But that night does always come. For Poppy and her itchy, fussy, eczema-caused loooong stretch of bad sleep (about three months long, God help me), it came last night. I went to bed at 9:30 after nursing her and didn't wake up until 3 a.m.

It took me a minute to realize that yes, it really was 3 a.m., and no, I really had not been up in the previous 5.5 hours. I fed her and she fell back asleep again until 6 a.m.

There is nothing that compares to the relief of getting at least almost a full night of sleep after months of bad nights.

I'm assuming that the fact that her skin is almost normal is the reason for this. I don't know exactly what to credit for the vast improvement in her eczema. Three things happened at once that could be it: I came to the end of my three weeks of avoiding the commonly allergenic foods; I started using a new kind of emollient recommended by a Canadian doctor friend of A.'s; and I got some prescription-strength cortisone cream from our pediatrician. It could be any one of those things, or any combination of them.

It doesn't really matter, though. What matters is that Poppy is happier and sleeping better*. And so am I. Alleluia.

(I would post a photo of the happier and significantly less red baby here, except I seem to have lost my cell phone and thus, my only camera. Swell.)

* Though I should really shut up about it, because it was only one night and I have probably jinxed myself now.

A. To the Rescue

A. arrived home on Friday evening, blowing in the door with a big thunderstorm, which turned into a nasty and prolonged windstorm. He ate dinner with us and helped put the kids to bed, and then the power went out.

Jack flipped out about the sudden lack of nightlight and A. sat with him in his room until he fell asleep. Meanwhile, I got some water for Cubby and then helped him find his bed again in his windowless laundry room-bedroom when he went back to bed. And nursed Poppy when she woke up.

And this is why single motherhood is such a daunting prospect. I'm way too outnumbered by these kids.

The power was still out in the morning, with no estimated time of repair by the power company. Something like 30,000 people were without power. It was a big, damaging storm. So damaging, in fact, that a three-foot section of our roof shingles was flopping about in the still-blowing wind. So after going to the dump, A. went to the hardware store and got roofing tar and roofing nails to patch it.

Technically we should just call the landlady so she can send someone to fix stuff, but out here in the boonies that's easier said than done. It's hard to get people to come out here. So A. climbed up on the roof and fixed it to ensure that we wouldn't have leaks in our kitchen ceiling when it rains.

It was such a nice reminder of how much he loves roofing. Although this roof was significantly less deadly than the roofs at Blackrock.

In addition, he hauled several five-gallon buckets of water from the creek in the woods so we could flush the toilets, wash hands, and do the dishes.

I have serious issues with waking up to a dirty kitchen, to the point that I will boil pots of water and do dishes without running water. Which I did last night.

He also took all four kids for a walk so I could take a desperately needed nap, took the three boys to the playground, and grilled our Cinco de Mayo steak for tacos on the grill.

The power came back on at 8 p.m. That's almost 24 hours without electricity. It would have been a much harder 24 hours if A. hadn't been here with us.

This photo is from the night of A.'s baptism. Despite the boys' expressions, they really do love their Daddy.

Friday Food: When Mom Flies Solo

A. was gone all week, leaving me to cook as best I could with three rampaging boys and a fussy baby on the kitchen floor. Everyone was fed. Sometimes that's all you can do, right?

Friday

Short version: Sweet Italian sausage, roasted onions, leftover pasta, roasted sweet potatoes, leftover peas

Long version: I got nothin'. I guess the short version is the only version. Bet you never thought you'd see that, huh?

Saturday

Short version: Pig butt, rice, not-iceberg salad

Long version: In the morning I put a still-frozen pork butt roast in the oven with a chunked-up onion to cook most of the day. This turned out to be very fortuitous as we decided last-minute to go to the late afternoon mass, so we didn't get home until almost 5 p.m. The pork was done, so I pulled it into chunks, mixed them up with mustard, maple syrup, and apple cider vinegar and crisped them up under the broiler.

After pouring the liquid out of the roasting pan, I mixed some leftover rice in with the remaining onions, added a little of the liquid back, and heated that in the oven with the pork.

The salad was made from red leaf lettuce, because A. had to go to a city on Friday to get toner for his printer, so he was able to buy some real lettuce for me. The excitement was palpable.

I don't get out much.

Sunday

Short version: Pulled pork sandwiches, carrot sticks with curry dip

Long version: Leftover pork+storebought barbecue sauce+bread=dinner. Hooray.

Except for me, of course. I had pork and various vegetables with rice, all the while coveting my children's sandwiches.

Remember this dip? I made that. The children were quite touchingly grateful to have a dip for their carrot sticks. Poor kids. They don't get out much, either.

Monday

Short version: Chicken, rice, roasted sweet potatoes, salad

Long version: Apparently, I am now a person who buys chicken at the store. I have not been that person for many years. And as soon as we can raise our own meat chickens, I will not be that person in the future.

I am so grossed out by grocery store chicken, and yet, I buy it. Maybe it wouldn't be so repellent if I didn't buy the leg quarters and then have to crack the joint and sever the drumsticks from the thighs? Maybe. But the boys like the drumsticks, and A. and I prefer the thighs. Plus, the leg quarters are the cheapest, and if I'm going to be buying nasty chicken, it's going to be the cheapest. The breast of those chickens had no better life than the legs.

Anyway.

I should probably come up with another way to cook it other than just roasting it in the oven with whatever else I'm roasting--these days, always sweet potatoes--but the kids haven't complained yet.

Tuesday

Short version: Scrambled eggs, tortillas and cheese, carrots and curry dip

Long version: I purposely chose this meal because I knew I would not be into cooking and cleaning up this night. In the morning I took all four kids to the dentist (the toothless infant was there in a supportive capacity only, obviously) and after dinner I took them all to the village for two baseball practices in different locations at different times.

I was tired. I needed something quick to cook and quick to clean up so I wouldn't be faced with a dirty kitchen when I got home at 8 p.m. with three hyped-up boys and a hysterical baby. That was a good call.

I had leftover cabbage with diced deli ham and rice, which I shoveled into my face while scrambling eggs and nagging Charlie to find his baseball glove.

He didn't find it, but his practice was canceled anyway. And I found it the next day in an unexpected place, so at least I don't have to buy him a new one. I just love a happy ending.

Random photo break:

The Blue Ninja's archenemy, I presume.

Wednesday

Short version: Tuna salad, potato chips, still-frozen peas, ice cream

Long version: What do I even say about this? I made tuna salad because it was over 80 degrees outside and all us northerners were melting. I was running low on bread, but uncharacteristically had potato chips. And, as we all know, chips are the best utensils. There were no complaints from the children.

They like to eat peas frozen while I'm making dinner, so I didn't bother cooking the peas. I just poured them on their plates still frozen. Hey, it was hot. Frozen peas made sense. Ahem.

And how about some ice cream to round out this carefully prepared and supremely healthy meal? Might as well.

I ate a random skillet thing with bacon, tuna, rice, shallots, and shredded carrots. And no ice cream. Boo.

Thursday

Short version: Italian sausage, roasted sweet potatoes and onions, garlic bread, salad

Long version: Laziest garlic bread ever, I'm pretty sure. Thick slices from a loaf of sourdough slathered in butter and garlic powder, then under the broiler on both sides until brown. The boys loved it, and I really, really wanted to eat like five pieces myself.

I didn't.

When I made the mustard vinaigrette for the salad I accidentally added Worcestershire sauce instead of balsamic vinegar. They're both dark brown. And I am brain dead. I only added a little before the smell hit me and I realized my mistake. I continued making the dressing with the proper ingredients and couldn't taste the Worcestershire in the end.

Just thought I'm throw that PSA out there for anyone else who has a moment of mental failure and accidentally uses Worcestershire sauce. It won't ruin the salad dressing.

Even though it was still just me and the kids at the table (I have mentioned before how much I enjoy this), it was a downright leisurely meal because Cubby's 6 p.m. baseball practice was canceled due to rain. Thank you, Mama N. I don't dare to hope that I might be so lucky with Charlie's practice tomorrow night, but there is a chance of thunderstorms. Crossing fingers for another weather event.

I just realized that I started and ended this with Italian sausage, just like last week started and ended with ribeye. Perhaps I need to branch out a bit?

Okay, your turn! What'd you eat this week?

In Training

Charlie appeared at the top of the stairs this morning gasping.

"What's up, Charlie?" I asked.

"I held my breath all last night and while I was climbing the stairs."

"Why?"

"So I'll be ready if I ever climb Mt. Everest."

Right.

Keep dreaming big, Charlie. (But maybe don't really hold your breath all night. That wouldn't end well.)