les deux magots

As I keep writing, it's getting really hot down here in México. And along with the heat, out come the critters....

Yesterday while doing my housewifely duties, I picked up the mop that I had left on the kitchen floor (probably from a few days before) and a load of maggots fell all over the floor. Just writing about it brings back the feeling of disgust that came over me at the sight. Then I had to sweep up the critters, who despite being leggless can move pretty darn fast. YUCK! ICK! GROSS!

I thought I had done a rather good job chasing them all down, but today I came across les deux magots, the two escapees who thought they could take up residence here. No thank you little friends. Maybe in Paris, but not here.

A lot to think about...

Thank you everyone who commented on my post about modern motherhood. I will definitely write another entry on this subject, now that you've all given me so much more to think about. For those of you interested in more modern motherhood stuff....check out suze's post on the dilemmas of mothering. I found her links really interesting too.

Presently, I'm still crazily surfing the net reading stuff on motherhood. It's amazing all the stuff out there from every angle you can imagine. I won't say too much now as it's getting late, but my reaction at the moment is similar to Lagartaverde's comment...this whole "Mommy Wars" thing is way out of hand! Why can't mothers (and women in general) support each other instead of always judging each other and hating each other? My other thought is that I still have much more thinking to do on how I want to mother my son/future kiddos and what I want to do with my life in general.

But more specifically, thanks Steph for the thought-provoking essay on attachment parenting. I'll definitely have more to post on that later. And Suze, thanks for the breast pump recommendation. I think I'll be getting one in Kansas. The cheap Mexican one I presently own is super time consuming and pisses me off because it seems as if half of the precious milk ends up dripping out the bottom. And Congratulations Liz!! That's awesome about the new job. I'm sure that everything will work out once a baby rolls into the picture. I mean you are blessed to have a guy that bakes kick-ass zwiebach and made your wedding dress with no prior sewing knowledge. I'm sure he'll pick up quick on the baby stuff. And Faby, thanks for so many words of encouragement. Oliver and I are really looking forward to meeting Camila.

Anyone can comment here now!

Hello fellow readers...

I have decided to open this blog up so that anyone can comment without needed to register on blogger.com. Please comment and please also let me know who you are. Please sign your name if you post an anonymous comment. I will delete any unsigned anonymous comments.

modern motherhood

I've been in a real sour mood lately... partly due to the heat and partly because mothering seems to be more demanding than I'm up to at the moment. Lately all I long for is some ME TIME. I just want some time to relax, kick my feet up, or go out and have fun. Anything that doesn't involve chasing Oliver around or washing dishes.

Unfortunately, the reason that I have almost no "me time" looks to be very likely related to the model of parenting I've taken to heart--attachment parenting. I complained (or rather whined) about my lack of "me time" to my solution-oriented husband, who, told me to --guess what--think of some sort of solution. Among his suggestions, teach Oliver to drink by himself from a bottle. Lovely time-saving idea, but that would mean feeding him formula which goes against my conviction to breastfeed for at least a year for the medical benefits. I could pump milk for him to feed himself, but it would entail buying an expensive breast pump or spending even more time manually pumping it out. Another of his ideas was to tell Oliver firmly not to cry when he cries. Well, that goes against another of my baby-raising convicitons of responding to your baby's needs in order to build a relationship of trust that will hopefully make him a secure individual. Finally, he offered to take Oliver on a morning stroll to give me a bit of desperately sought after "me time." (If you're wondering... Jaime works mostly in the evening doing wedding photography.) Now, that's an idea I like.

Just now after re-reading the 8 ideals of attachment parenting on their API website, maintaining balance in your family life in order to avoid parent burn-out happens to be on the list. They do offer some ideas that you can read for yourself at the above link, but none of them are what you could call an easy solution. Their last so-called-solution is to keep in mind that babies are most needy in the early years and that "this too shall pass."

My response is .... in the early years?? YEARS?? Yikes! It looks as if this parenting thing is gonna mean very little "me time" for quite some time. Now I can very clearly understand why my mother used to get so grouchy when we would come looking for her while she was locked away in the bedroom watching TV on her own.

And then last night I did some blog reading on other moms' blogs and came across a post called Mom Guilt that got me thinking even more. I don't know a lot about this mom, except that she has a three year old in a Montessori program and works what she calls part-time because she takes off Fridays to be with her kids. To sum up her post, she's feeling guilty for not staying at home full time with her kids because she believes that they deserve to be cared for by someone who loves them unconditionally--something the kids' teachers can't do. But at the same time she's afraid that if she were home full-time she would be a cranky, impatient, and exasperated mother. Other moms commented similar feelings of guilt for working and putting their kids in daycare, yet at the same time said they would feel crabby or unfulfilled if they stayed home. One mom even wrote that her husband's co-workers (men) strongly disagree with women working. "They claim we're letting someone else raise our kids."

I feel that this work but feel guilty vs. stay-at-home but feel unfulfilled is a critical issue for modern mothers. But what was it like for our grandmothers? No one was urging them to enter the workforce (except maybe during WWII when they were needed to manufacture the planes and weapons of war), yet did they also grapple with feelings of unfullfilment and crabbiness at staying home all day with the kids? I never got that feeling from my grandma (mom's side), who exemplifies the stoic Mennonite woman. On the other hand, I totally get that feeling from my dad's mother. I think that if given the charm and talent, she would have opted to have been a famous singer rather than a mother. Unfortunately for her and my dad, she was born into a time that gave women few options.

I'm still trying to figure out my own views on this issue, but I'm curious to hear what other readers out there think and feel about the working vs. staying at home dilemma. For now, I'm sticking with my plan to stay home for at least a year with Oliver because I am hoping that he will become a secure adult knowing that his mom was there to meet his needs as a baby. After he turns a year old, I have to figure out what my next move is. Ideally, I'd like to have my mom look after him so I can have some time of my own or possibly work part-time. But if we're not in Kansas (we may possibly move there), I think I will put him in some sort of classes for babies a few times a week. Something interesting for him that gives me a little time too.

If I could just click my heels and be home

It's only a few days till Oliver and I head off for Kansas. Now as the heat is finally kicking in here in Cabo, I'm counting the days till we'll be frolicking in my parent's pool and comfortably enjoying hanging out inside with the central AC. It was just yesterday that it really got hot, and my mood is already getting sour. And this is nothing. Cabo is absolutely miserable in September...right when we're supposed to return. Ugh. Jaime and I were just talking about getting us all tickets to Guadalajara to visit his family in September since everything is pretty much dead around here for the whole month. It would be a wonderful respite from the Cabo heat, and an awesome opportunity for Oliver to hang out with his abuelos and other family in Guadalajara. If we can make it, his sister Elena invited us to stay with her at her house in Queretaro too. Visiting Queretaro would be awesome since I've never been there, and mostly it would be great for Oliver to hang out with Isaac, his two year old cousin!

As departure day approaches, I'm just trying to get everything in line for the trip. I imagine that traveling with Oliver will be a bit more complicated now that he's no longer a wee baby. Last time we flew to Kansas, for Christmas, he was just two months old and slept or breastfed most of the time. This time I'm sure he'll be awake quite a bit, but I'm sure it will be super exciting for him. He's a darn good baby overall, so I don't forsee too many problems.

Well, it won't be long... we are really looking forward to seeing all you Kansas readers and Kansas visitors! Yahoo!

I'm back...

Sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth for awhile...

I have been meaning to post, but motherhood has been overwhelming me a bit lately now that Oliver is deep into the adventuring stage of babyhood. Just to give you an idea of what he's up to, here are some photos taken this Monday.

As you can see from the photos, he loves floor play. Gone are the days of a happily seated baby in his stroller mouthing a his toy frog. Come on mom, that's boring! He used to love playing on the trusty king size bed, but now the edge is just too alluring. And pillows no longer stop this crawling machine--he goes right over them. The playpen, as you can imagine, is way too restictive for a kid on the move. The only fun in there is standing up and looking over the edge towards freedom. Occasionally, he'll stay in for awhile if given a very enticing, unusual toy which usually happens to be something from the kitchen, like the refried bean masher. Ooooo! Ahhh! How exotic, mom!

But now for the most part, floor play is what really turns this baby on. As soon as he's sat down on our VERY HARD tile floor, his eyes light up and he starts up with his happy baby sighs and gurgles. On the floor, he can play with just about anything and be happy. The down side to floor play, and what you don't see in those lovely photos is the screaming child that results when his disproportionately large head lands on our very hard floor. So now, as you might be able to imagine, I have become the hyper-vigilant mother, who is counting the days till we get to the carpeted floors of my parents' house! Once he gains more balance, I'm sure that my tile-floor-panic will fade, but for now I'm pretty much on baby look-out most of the time.

Homeopathic docs rule!

Two days ago while changing Oliver's diaper, I saw some tiny little white things near his anus. I realize that this is a rather foul thing to write about, but it's part of partenhood. As soon as I saw the little white critters, I knew that my poor baby had parasites. I didn't freak out however, because I've already been host to many critters myself, and besides, my trusty Baby Book says that pinworms are normal and nothing serious.

My problem however was finding a good doctor to help me do something about the critters. You see, since our budget has been tight, we haven't really been going to a local pediatrician for wellness checkups like most parents. To be honest, I didn't really want to go to a "normal doc" anyway because I feel that conventional medicine is too harsh for little bodies. For the most part, we just go to the free clinic to get his shots and get him weighed each month. Which has worked really well, since Oliver has been a very healthy little guy.

Now that Oliver no longer has a clean bill of health, I'm so glad that we found a homeopathic doct0r. And all we did was look up homeopathic doctors in the phone book and went to the only one in town. He was a really nice guy. I just love the way homeopathic docs spend time to really get to know everything about their patients. They don't just ask about your symptoms and prescribe you a drug. For Oliver, Dr.Ornelas Perea asked about his whole life from my pregnancy until now, including not only physical symptoms but also emotional feelings. The approach is much more personal and complete. Everytime I've been to a homeopathic doc, which has only been in Mexico, I've always left with a good vibe.

Now, I'm just hoping that my little one will be parasite-free soon.

I'm a mom and I actually do have a life...

Tonight I went out on the town. Yahoo!! Man, it's not often that I can say that. Tonight when my husband offered to stay with the babe so that I could hit the town for a farwell party of a local Israeli girl, I jumped at the offer. And I had fun. Granted, I'm not accustomed to bars anymore, but I found an intersting conversation partner right away and had a good time conversing until my voice started to get horse from yelling over the sound of the music. Why the heck do they have to play the music so damn loud in tiny little bars where there's no room to dance anyway? And I treated myself to a glass of wine--since motherhood I haven't done much drinking either. It's soooooooooo nice to feel like a normal non-mother-person for awhile. Cheers to that.

amazing baby

This week has been one of those wonderful-to-be-a-mom weeks. Oliver is growing and changing at an impressive rate now that he's entered the exploring stage. Everyday this week he amazes me with some new trick. Monday, for me, was the most momentuous when he went from a crawl to a sit by tucking his foot underneath himself. (If you want to see the move in action, check him out here. ) Now, it's already second nature to him. It's one of the first things he does upon waking in the morning. On Tuesday, we gave him a trainer cup with handles, and he acutally maneuvered it to his mouth on his own to drink some juice--to his surprise. On Wednesday, I felt that we overcame the feeding barrier, finally! Oliver actually opened his mouth for me and then grabbed onto the spoon with me to help me feed him. It looks like puffed brown rice cereal mixed with breastmilk is a real winner. On Thursday, he got us all laughing by making "farting" noises by blowing saliva on my tummy. Now it's his new favorite pasttime after feeding. Then yesterday he pulled himself up from a sit to a stand in his playpen. Who knows what new trick he'll be on to today...

big project on the horizon

It's been awhile now that I've been itching for some sort of creative project or money-earning one. I know that other SAHMs out there can relate. Suze at Madtown Mama has written quite a bit about that on her blog. So far this blog has been my best creative outlet. And a fun way to interact with all of you who read it! Thanks for all the great comments!

However, I'm happy to write that I've come up with a really spiffy project that will certainly get my creative juices flowing. And it encompasses quite a number of my interests--family, food, history, culture, and writing. The project I have in mind is one that I've thought about starting for some time. It's about my Grandma who passed away back in 1997. She's the zwieback master that I wrote about in an earlier post. While I was at Bethel College I took the opportunity to go out and interview her about her life on two occasions, but I never did anything with the tape. Not so far. Except transcribe part of it. I also have her recipe book, of course, how many of the recipes she actually followed is something I may never know. I also interviewed three of her four surviving siblings in Inman two years back and still have that tape to transcribe.

My idea, thus far, is to compile a book of my family member's favorite memories of her to be called "Memories of Margaret." It would also include some of her famous recipes and anecdotes about them, photos, letters, and a brief history of her life. I just opened an account on yahoo groups so that my family can share their memories, photos, recipes, etc. there.

So that's the deal. What do you all think? I'm very excited about the whole thing, and have had really positive feedback from my mom and sister Susanne. Pretty soon I will be cluing in the whole family.

serious(ly funny) stuff going on in the white house...

feeling silly...

Today I'm feeling silly. Partly due to the cappuccino I just drank. Caffeine goes straight to my brain. So for today here are a few silly thoughts and stories on vegetarianism and my family:

For those of you who don't know. I'm a vegetarian or at least partly so. I used to be 100% vegetarian, but never vegan. Now I'm a pesco-vegetarian (I eat fish, yum). Which makes me recall a favorite tune...

Fish heads, fish heads,
roly poly fish heads.
Fish heads, fish heads
eat 'em up, yum!

Ok, so that was just a silly aside. Honestly though, being vegetarian was never easy in my family. When we go out as a family for a nice meal, they all order fat, juicy steaks and I order pasta. My parents & sisters are carnivores even though my younger sister did go vegetarian--twice. The first time she was just 12. It was the same year I became vegetarian myself. I'd like to think her decision was influenced by me (maybe partly so), but she had moral reasons. Vegetarinaism for me was straightforward and easy, I had just never really liked meat. But the morning my sister declared herself vegetarian she was vocal in letting us know it was because killing animals was wrong. That night at dinner, however, my mom (who by the way, is no dummy) served my sister's favorite meal--steak. Well, Liz reflected a bit but in the end decided it was a meal she just couldn't pass up. I'm sure that my mom was relieved after already dealing with enough anguish that year finding enough to feed me, her other vegetarian daughter. Now we still laugh about her short-lived day of vegetarian, animal-activism.

The second time she tried her lot at vegetarianism, she was in her final year of high school and decided to go hard-core: vegan from the get-go. My poor mother had no clue what on earth to cook for a child who wouldn't even eat cheese! And when she headed off to Berkely for college, she stuck with it. My parents still hating it all the way. Eating out at fine restaurants is a favorite pasttime of theirs, yet how could they enjoy a good meal with a daughter who drilled the waiter about the ingredients of each dish on the menu?

Now that she's a meat-eater once more, my parents are elated. Nevertheless, they've still got me to contend with. On the other hand, I have improved in their eyes; now that I eat fish, dining in my company is much more enjoyable. So my mother says. Notwithstanding, my father still manages to make some unwelcome remark each time I'm home. It usually goes something like this. We're all eating at the dinner table and my dad turns to me with a earnest look, "Now, Aimee, you're sure you don't want to try just a little piece of meat?"

In such a predicament, I usually can't help but revert straight to adolecence with a whining, "Noooooo, dad!" However, this time I'm home, I've come up with a witty (and I hope funny response) that perhaps even my father will get a kick out of...

"Dad, I don't eat meat because I recognize meat for what it is: the stereroid-enhanced and pesticide-laden corpse of a tortured animal."

P.S. If you're wondering.... here is where I came across this great reply.

Anyone ever made zwieback?

I'm have a feeling that most of the readers of this blog have probably tried zwieback, a Russian Mennonite bread roll consisting of two lovely round balls of dough one on top of the other. Zwieback always used to be a central part of all family reunions on my mom's side of the family until my Grandma passed away almost ten years ago. Now the only time we ever eat it is when my Uncle Mike picks some up from a baker in Yoder.

The reason I'm wondering is because I intended to learn to master the art of zwieback baking when my Grandma was still alive and thus carry on the tradition. That however, didn't happen. Yet almost ten years later, as my domestic side is awakening I once again feel the urge to truly master the art of making zwieback. And believe me, I know it's not an easy task! My Grandma gave me one lesson and the recipe, which she said she didn't actually follow (go figure). So now all I have to go on is an unused recipe and a vague recollection of a very precise squeezing motion needed to produce those perfectly round balls of dough--a motion I didn't get close to mastering after that one lesson.

If anyone out there can give me any zwieback advice, send me a recipe that actually has been followed, or better yet train me in this complicated art, I would be ever so happy!

on women's work

Not long ago I came across this nifty little dittie about a traditional English mother's week...

Wash on Monday
Iron on Tuesday
Mend on Wednesday
Churn on Thursday
Clean on Friday
Bake on Saturday
Rest on Sunday

Not that I can relate to such a structured week of housework, but I have been doing a good deal of housework since becoming a full-time stay at home mom. Actually, a little structure in my week might make my home life a bit less chaotic. Unfortunatley, I tend to approach housework in cycles. First is the clean, orderly cycle. But sooner or later I tire of such mundane tasks, letting them pile up till the house is in utter disarray, the messy cycle. Once I get the courage to approach the disaster I allowed to accumulate, the cycle starts over again. It's as if at the heart of the matter my approach is Hindu--once the house is clean I'm like Vishnu preserving order and cleanliness to the tiniest detail, until my Shiva side takes over allowing me to turn a blind eye to the dishes piling up and the shoes sitting around. When I'm Vishnu, I've got better things to do--like writing this blog or reading a book or baking something I'm in the mood for and then leaving the kitchen in a shambles. When I'm Vishnu, I can get a bit anal retentive--pushing in all the chairs, arranging things "just so," and washing the dishes straight away.

For me the real funny thing (and a bit scary too) is that now I actually take pride in having a clean house. Never before was I remotely concerned about such things. Before I was a working woman, which to me justified not keeping the house in tip top shape. Also, I figured that if I was bringing home just as much or more money (the latter tended to be the case) then it was just as much my partner's responsibility to keep the homefront clean and orderly. In reality, however, neither of us ended up doing much around the house.

Now that I'm not bringing home the dough, I find myself baking the dough and cleaning up afterwards. Although I'll admit that it wasn't easy getting into a cleaning routine, especially with a baby that nurses every two to two and a half hours. A few wee months ago, I was still what I'd call a disaster in the area of "home economics" until my friend Diana appeared upon the scene. She is what I call, Mexican Housewife Supreme. She not only cleans her house constantly, she also cooks for her hubby everyday, washes and irons his clothes, and even brings him breakfast at work on occasion. I'm still not on par with Diana, that's for sure, but I learned a few things from her. The first is that, messes are much easier to handle if you clean them up straight away rather than letting them sit there and fester. Second is that cleaning is much easier and more efficient if you do it constantly since nothing really has a chance to get truly dirty.

It may seem funny that I'm writing so much about housework. I really never took it seriously before, but now that my main identity for the time being is that of mother and wife I find it ever so much more pertinent. It's actually something that a person can get some satisfaction out of when it's done well. It can be zen. Before Diana's cleaning logic entered my life of cleaning caos, I tried the zen approach to cleaning: trying to find harmony in my daily cleaning routines rather than resisting and loathing it every step of the way. If you cannot find the meaning of life in an act as simple as that as doing the dishes, you will not finding it anywhere. (I'm quoting from my book The World's Religions.) No matter whether I'm using zen philosophy or Diana's super housewife logic, I find that I am much more productive and in a much better mood when the house is clean. It just shouldn't be such a big deal to me, but it is.