Posts Tagged ‘baby’

Banana Nut Muffins

May 12, 2013

Okay. I admit once and for all that I don’t measure anything. Ever. So you’ll have to use your eyeballs when assembling these muffins because they were both the bomb and the diggity. If it looks too wet, add more dry. If it looks too dry, add more wet. We’re grown ups and can handle this, right?

3 horrendously over ripe bananas I’d forgotten on top of the fridge
1/2 cup unsweetened apple sauce I needed to be rid of
2 sticks unsalted butter, melted  (Yes.  You read that right.)
1 tsp vanilla
2 eggs
3/4 cup maple syrup (I really  just glugged until Andy shouted “HOLY SHIT!”)
1 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
2 cups unbleached flour
1 cup pecans or walnut pieces

Beat the bananas and apple sauce until smooth. Slowly wiz in the melted butter. Add in the rest of the ingredients one at a time except the nuts. Fold those in at the very last minute.

Pour into lined muffin tins, almost filling each cup. Bake at 350 for about 20 minutes until just done. Makes about 2 dozen muffins.

Feed them to a baby so hungry, she’s prepared to eat her own foot. Save some for yourself.

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Dude, I should blog more.

December 31, 2012

I just got my 2012 year in review and it basically tells me that I haven’t blogged since my 2011 year in review.  My dude is at least partially responsible for those fireworks on your email thingy, so he  got to be amused to see what would happen when a person had exactly one post.  January 1.  1 firework blast.  And there was much rejoicing.

It seems like most of the people that find me by search terms are looking for information on Tibial Plateau fractures.   I had one on January 25, 2009.  It’s an easy date to remember because it’s about 12 hours after this happened:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It looked like this a few days after surgery:

It looked like this a few days after surgery.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

About 2 years later I had the 6 screws and the plate taken out. It looked like this (I particularly like the “yes” which means “Yes. Please cut open this leg. Again.)
For the TPF curious: It was very painful after repair and didn’t feel like my own leg again for the two years between the addition and subtraction of metal bits. When the metal bits came out it stopped feeling like there was a car bumper in there and I mostly don’t notice it any more. It hurts if the weather changes or if I try to kneel on it, or hit it with the car door. Otherwise, aces.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

zoe_1400

In other news, I have two awesome kids.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My dog is Bean, because she has pintos over her eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have a very nice husband too. This is part of his face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy new year. This is my favorite shoe.

 

 

 

A girl and her dog.

May 4, 2011

Don’t know who is playing fetch with whom here.

Moxie’s First Recipe

December 24, 2010

Messy eater.

All natural paste:

1/2 piece of toasted sourdough, dry
3-5 cups of teething infant drool
1 infant face

Soak toast liberally in infant drool. Rub soaked and mushed toast around infant face. Concentrate most heavily on eyebrows, ears, and the spot where head directly meets chest (no neck to speak of yet). Fling leftovers at startled dog.

Attempt to plant sticky infant face into as much dog hair, cat hair, carpet fuzz, and mom clothing as possible. Shriek loudly as if burned by acid when cleaned up with a warm washcloth.

Kissy face mom.

December 3, 2010

Moxie thinks I’m the funniest thing ever.
Moxie Laughing

Waiting.

July 1, 2010

Time flies

At about 5:30 in the morning on July 1st, I’m sitting in our not so well scrubbed bath tub looking for that mythical state of relaxation and calm that everybody advises those in a pensive cycle of waiting to find.   I am a horrible waiter, and have been since childhood.  Not satisfied with mere punctuality, I’m the woman who has a book in her glove box for the inevitable 30 minute wait I’ll do in the car before any appointment.  Tick tock…. don’t mind me, I’m just waiting.

This would probably qualify as the ultimate wait.  I’m waiting for our first child.  My estimated due date of June 20th came and went without so much as  a contraction 11 days ago. In physiological terms it’s just any second.  2 or 3 centimeters dilated, more than 80% effaced, baby at a -1 station. Evening primrose oil, red raspberry leaf tea, black/blue cohosh tincture, spicy food, and my personal favorite source of protaglandins have all been tried for weeks.  Yesterday, proving my own fragile mental state, I actually consumed 4 oz of castor oil in a chocolate shake and spent the rest of the day groaning on the can.  All to no avail though.  I woke up this morning at about 3am feeling far more fine than I care to.

My daughter, whatever her name will end up being, apparently doesn’t share my early nature.  She’s comfy inside of me, I guess.  She has plenty of room inside my farm girl’s pelvis to just hang out and start long before her teens the tradition of driving her mother just a little crazy.  She must know that by whatever impossible mechanism of nature, I fell in love with her months and months ago, and I’ve been sitting on my hands not having a much wanted drink, round of sushi, or knock down hard run on my swollen and gimpy right leg. I’m desperate to meet her.   How long will this woman wait for me, she must wonder.

I’m just sitting here, and I’ve nothing left to read.  I’ll get out of the tub in a bit, scrub it down (it really is pretty scummy), and then go bounce on my exercise ball for another day looking at 30 years old for the patience my baby has already mastered.

Our Daughter

March 5, 2010

Working title: Georgia Marie Skelton