So. Here we are. Dieting.

Sigh.

Well. It has not been bad so far. *checks watch* And look! It’s already been FOURTEEN HOURS!

The first day went pretty well. No slips, and not too much wallowing in self-pity. I kept reminding myself that this was my OWN decision to do this. I also instructed myself to stop thinking about food so much.

It makes me a little nervous, in fact, that the day went so well. See? There is no pleasing me.

Nor is there any pleasing THE MIGHTY TIGER!

He is not CRYING, he is ROARING.

If you cheat, you are only hurting yourself. It is totally stupid to cheat on a diet. Who do you think you’re winning against? Like when your grandma was all indignant about some hoax she believed, so she boycotted KMart. But she didn’t even write KMart a letter to let them know she was doing it. Did she really think KMart was going to notice that they no longer got her $20/week? “Uh oh!” they’d say. “We must have pissed off Mrs. Rice! Let’s give her a call and find out what we’re doing wrong so we can stop doing it and make her happy!” NO. They didn’t even notice, and she had to find somewhere else to shop, where the prices were higher.

Don’t think about food so much. In theory, dieting should be easier than not dieting, because there are fewer choices, and fewer times of the day to be deciding what to eat. This should free up so much time. I said, THIS SHOULD FREE UP SO MUCH TIME. I cannot believe it—are you ALREADY thinking about what to eat next?

Remember to weigh first thing tomorrow morning, to get a starting weight. And write it in the Diet Journal—there’s still plenty of space from the last time you were writing in the Diet Journal. In fact, there’s probably no need to write in the Diet Journal this time: just cross off the dates from last time and write in the dates from this time. Saves paper! Saves time!

Think ahead about the times when you are likely to be particularly weak, and make arrangements. Like, when the kids go down for their naps and you would normally break out the contraband—I don’t think a vegetable platter is going to fill that void. Or what about after dinner, when you wash out the taste of dinner with something sweet? What’re you going to eat THEN, tough girl? FRUIT?

The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. What? A thousand miles? Nobody said anything about A THOUSAND MILES!! Let me off! Wait! Let me OFFFFFFF!!!!

I should be eating a dessert the size of my head right now. I’m not hungry for it now, but tomorrow when I’m looking back, I will be KICKING my last-night self for not eating whatever I wanted while I still could.

After the post I did about homemade baby food, there were requests for more info. And now suddenly I am a little anxious about seeming to present myself as some kind of expert, because here is how I got started making baby food: I read the ingredients list on a jar of Gerber peas and thought “Peas, water. I think I can combine peas and water for less than 50 cents a jar.” So I cooked some peas and ground them up with some water, and voila! Easy-peasy!

I did consult my baby-care manual first: it’s Caring for Your Baby and Young Child, by the American Academy of Pediatrics, and I’ve linked to the most recent edition but my copy is from 1998. Out of date much? But when I was consulting it in 1999, it was CUTTING EDGE, BABY. It said that the following foods should NOT be made at home because of possible high levels of nitrates: beets, turnips, carrots, collard greens, and spinach. Not that I would have been whipping up a big batch of turnips anyway, but it’s good to know. (I still use frozen mixed-vegetable blends that contain carrots.)

Here are some of the blends I make most often:

1) Mixed vegetable blends. Usually I get the kind that has green beans, green peas, carrots, and corn. Or sometimes I get a different assortment, like broccoli, cauliflower, green beans, carrots, and lima beans. Exciting!

2) Single vegetable plus single legume: green peas and chick peas, or green beans and kidney beans, or squash and great northern beans, or whatever. You can use dried beans, but then you have to soak them and cook them for a long time, so I use canned.

3) Mixed berries. The first time I tried this, it gelled up worse than jelly and was impossible to feed to the baby without re-blendering it. If you add some applesauce (about a cup) and some infant cereal (half a cup or so) to it in the blender, it will stay sauce-ish.

4) Chicken. Poach it (half-submerge chicken breasts in a lidded skillet of water and boil until cooked), cut it into cubes, and put it in the blender. I use boneless skinless chicken breasts. It blended up a LOT more easily than I’d thought it would. I freeze this in ice-cube trays because I want smaller portions. When feeding it to the baby, I mix it with a vegetable.

Okay! Answers to other questions:

The American Academy of Pediatrics manual says (keep in mind that my edition is ten years out of date, but I’m pretty sure this is the same as the leaflet the pediatrician gave me when the twins were babies) that at 8 months, babies can start having yogurt, cottage cheese, and cooked egg yolk. You can tip the raw white out of the shell and scramble just the yolk, or you can pick the yolk out of a hardboiled egg. This works out awesome if you yourself are on a diet and want only the whites.

I mix baby food with infant cereal and water: roughly half vegetable/fruit and half cereal/water. I started 6-month-old Henry on one meal a day of about a tablespoon of thin-applesauce-consistency food, and as soon as he got the hang of it I rapidly increased to a half-cup or so, and then to more like three-quarters of a cup. He’s nearly 8 months now, and recently I changed to two feedings a day of about a half cup each (more if he’s yolfing it down), and he’s eating it at more of a thick-applesauce consistency. I don’t think there are any firm rules on how much or how often or what proportions. I believe I must take it slower than average, based on the pediatrician’s mistaken assumptions about what the baby is eating.

The AAP book says that banana can be fed to the baby raw, but other foods should be cooked until soft, so I do cook fruits, yes, but not for long. (My guess is that there are other schools of thought on this, and I have no doubt the other schools are just as awesome and that their school cheers are just as peppy.) See above about adding applesauce (and I also add infant cereal) to the blender to avoid gelling. And don’t add much water to the cooking pan, because the fruit has a surprising amount of water in it.

I add some water to meat to make it blend smoothly, but I don’t add anything else to it. I didn’t even try meats until my third and fourth children, because it seemed so gross to do it (meat in the blender—-HORK), and also it seemed like the meat wouldn’t blend smoothly. But I used white-meat chicken and it blended gorgeously, and it was WAY less gross than those cat-food-scented jars of meat baby food. (And so much cheaper, you can’t even believe it.)

I’m not sure what the freezer lifespan is. We go through it pretty fast, so it hasn’t been an issue. My freezer says that soups can be frozen for one month, and that seems like a nice rough estimate–but I suspect the food would be fine for longer amounts of time.

No, I don’t make all my own baby food. I often buy the fruits, because it’s not as big a savings to make fruits. You can make a huge quantity of vegetables for cheap, cheap, cheap, but fruits are more labor and more money for less yield. I buy big jars of applesauce, and I mash up banana with a fork, and I buy a few jars of fruit baby food. I also buy carrot baby food, because of the nitrate problem my AAP manual mentioned. And I buy baby food to have on hand for convenience (especially with the twins, there were times when I ran out of chow), and for keeping indefinitely in the diaper bag. (The homemade stuff should be kept frozen or refrigerated until you’re ready to feed it to the baby.)

Speaking of out-of-date, here’s a picture of Henry from Christmas:

Well, listen. I’m sorry to have to say this, so I’ll just say it outright: I’m going on a diet. It’s a betrayal of all we hold dear: mint chocolate brownies, creamy chicken casseroles, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, oatmeal scotchies, Dove Give In To Mint ice cream. And so I clutch your hands in mine, looking earnestly into your eyes and hoping you’ll understand.

I hate dieting. I hate exercising. I spend time writing in a journal like a teenager, wondering if I can possibly live a happy life without being able to eat as much as I want of whatever I want. There is going to be a lot—A LOT—of whining. You will think to yourself, “Is she dieting, or giving up crack? Because BEEZUS.”

Right about now, some of you are feeling a rising urge to tell me that the key is NOT to diet, but rather to Make a Lifestyle Change! Do you know what a “lifestyle change” IS to me? It is a PERMANENT DIET. So that concept is not one that COMFORTS me as I stand here on the doorstep of the Diet House, preparing to ring the doorbell.

Ever since I hit age 18, I’ve been longing for jury duty. I love the whole concept of jury duty—possibly because I’ve never been called and don’t yet realize how little it resembles the movie version. Paul’s been called. My mom’s been called. My dad’s been called.

Guess who got called now?

I’m so cheesed off, because I would LOVE this. I have been WAITING for this. I would wear my cute, long, comfy-but-professional-looking skirt and my serious-looking black shirt. I would bring a book for the long boring waiting, and I would listen attentively during the cases. I would take notes on a little pad of paper. I would think carefully about whether my embarrassing tendency to choke up and cry during moments of any drama, happy or sad, would be a liability if I were made foreperson. I have it ALL PLANNED OUT.

But I don’t see how I can manage it. I’m still nursing, for one thing, and Henry has never taken a bottle—nor, if history repeats the other four children, will he ever be willing to. Nor have I EVER been able to get more than an ounce or two with a pump (I’m sorry, is this way TMI?), even when I was successfully nursing TWINS. Nor do I own a pump anymore anyway.

So I looked into it, thinking I would basically say, “Sorry, I can’t–I’m breastfeeding” before beginning a long, sad winter of looking resentfully at the children during the days I COULD have been on JURY DUTY if I hadn’t had so many CHILDREN. But it turns out that only in four states is breastfeeding considered a legitimate reason to get out of serving jury duty, and my state isn’t one of them. (My state says you should pump.)

Nor does my state consider it valid to say that you don’t have someone to care for your children (their helpful suggestion: “Arrange care”), or that there is no way your husband is going to be able to take four weeks of unpaid leave so his WIFE can serve jury duty–EVEN IF that were remotely affordable, which it is not.

AND, the first week of jury duty is a school vacation week. Can you see me calling around, trying to arrange temporary childcare? “OH HAI. I need three weeks of full-time childcare for three children including a nursing infant who won’t take bottles; plus one week of full-time childcare for five children! But maybe I don’t, if they don’t choose me because they think mothers are too sympathetic to criminals! Stand by just in case, though, okay? And I can pay you $25 per day before we go broke and lose the house!” (slight exaggeration)

I don’t understand how ANYONE affords doing jury duty. The section on financial hardship on the jury duty page says that they totally understand that it’s a significant financial burden–but that it’s one of our country’s most important rights/responsibilities so it is essential to do it anyway. I’d say that’s REALLY EASY TO SAY when you’re getting paid full wages to say it!

This part of the court system is NO GOOD. Most people can’t be away from their jobs for a month, even if finances aren’t an issue. Most people are NEEDED at their jobs; that’s why they get PAID TO BE THERE. Most people need the income from their jobs; that’s why they WORK.

There are two changes that need to be made, in order that the United States citizens can serve duty without unfair hardship to some: (1) there needs to be a daycare service in the courthouse (this also allows nursing mothers to go nurse their babies during breaks), and (2) the pay for serving jury duty needs to be enough to live on—AT LEAST minimum wage.

You should see the form I filled out. Four pages of tidy, printed information about myself and my lack of criminal record, followed by one page of, essentially, “OMG PLEASE DO NOT MAKE ME DO THIS!!!”: scribbled-out sections, arrows with explanations, and a final panicky line at the end that almost goes off the page. Then I SLIT THE ENVELOPE OPEN so I could go back and add more scribbles and miscellaneous freaking out and then tape it closed. Sigh. Maybe they’ll dismiss me for OBVIOUS MENTAL ILLNESS.

Boil some water.

Put in some food. Here: frozen green peas, a pound and a half.

Put in some more food, if desired. Here: a can of chick peas (also called garbanzo beans). These are canned, so they don’t need to be pre-soaked and then cooked for ages. But I did rinse them.

Cook. If cooking legumes, I’ve heard it reduces gassy side-effects if you remove some of the thick foam that accumulates in the middle.

Spoon food into the blender. Or some people use a food processor. See those little chickpea skins? You can pick those out if you feel like it, but I don’t bother. They blend up fine.

If your blender is like mine, it will prefer to be no more than half full. (This photo is actually from AFTER adding the water in the next step, but I thought you’d want to know FIRST about not putting too much food in the blender.)

Add some cold water. This cools off the hot food (duh), and also makes the blending smoother (duh).

First on low speed.

Now on high speed.

Pour into containers. I use 1-cup Ziploc plastic containers, or 1/2-cup containers or ice cube trays if I’m making something fancy/expensive/intense like berries or meats and want smaller portions.

Second half of the food into the blender, and repeat.

Put on lids.

Freeze.

Do the dishes.

Total time: 25 minutes from putting water in pan to drying hands—and during the process there was time to do other things, like doing other dishes while waiting for the food to cook. Yield: 7.5 cups of baby food. Sometimes I’ll get two big pots boiling of different foods, so I can do them one after another through the blender: it adds 5-10 minutes to the process, and doubles the yield.

(Also see: Making Baby Food: Encore!)

Do you want to cross Swistle’s mind again and again throughout the day? Do you want her to think about you and wonder about you as she is baking brownies, bathing children, running errands? Then leave a comment like THIS in her comment section:

Anonymous said…
Hi, Swistle! I’m a loyal reader and I just found out today that I am pregnant again! I haven’t even told my husband yet. I’m just here to torture you and tease you….because soon we will need to discuss baby names for me. Soon. Like in a month when I tell everyone. Mwuu haa ha haaaaa

Let’s say I regularly read US Weekly magazine—I am NOT saying that, but let’s say for the sake of argument I did read an issue. And let’s say I was reading an article about how very, very lucky a female celebrity felt because her husband was so kindly supportive of her goal to be as hot as humanly possible. And let’s say I was perusing her sample daily menu, NOT that I would be interested in what is probably a PACK OF LIES.

And let’s say I came to the part where she says she would normally eat Splenda-sweetened desserts, but can’t because she’s breastfeeding. Would I:

A) Assume that someone who thinks it’s genuinely helpful and supportive when her husband says things such as “Are you sure you should be eating that?” doesn’t know her skinny, well-toned ass from a hole in the ground?

B) Panic and consult Dr. Google?

C) First A, followed by a furtive version of B, followed by feeling really stupid for not sticking confidently with A?

You guys have been so awesome with other readers’ issues, I wonder if I could add a couple more to your caseload? Click through for their posts on the problems.

1) Misty has an etiquette problem: another mom has asked to bring FOUR extra kids to Misty’s child’s birthday party. Misty needs a fast answer on this one, because she has to call the other mom back with an answer soon.

2) Donna has a children’s clothing problem: where to find jeans that will STAY UP on a slim baby?

Cari emailed me on a subject dear to my own heart: worrying about baby development and milestones.

I know that you have mentioned before that your children were a little slow to reach their developmental milestones. My baby is 11 months old and is still not crawling. She rolls over and has excellent direction; and she has just started getting up on her hands and knees and rocking, but no crawling; and for sure no pulling up or standing. She has a few sounds, but no consistent words like mama or dada.

I’m wondering at what point I should start being concerned. (Well, more concerned than the near-constant mommy-worry that we all have.) She has been behind from the start in her gross motor skills, so I’m not extraordinarily surprised that she is where she is, but people are asking about it more often and I don’t really know how to address it. I don’t really feel like I need to address it to randoms who ask; but it is on my mind.

I know that babies develop at their own rates, but I guess I’m looking for reassurance that she really is okay and that others have been in similar situations.

Indeed, my kids have been “late end of normal” in their development. In a group of babies, my baby would be the one lying there like an enormous larva while the other babies skittered all over the floor.

Rob didn’t crawl until he was 12 months old. Elizabeth didn’t walk until she was 17 months old—and if she’d done it 2 days later, I would have had to say 18 months old. At 7.5 months, Henry has rolled over maybe a dozen times and never on purpose. NONE of my kids have been able to say as many words as they’re supposed to be able to say on baby/toddler charts. They are all late, late, late.

I’m sorry, but the only way I can give reassurance here is to bring out some serious bragging. Saying “and they’re turning out fine!” is insufficient: pretty much all parents think their children are brilliant and amazing, and for all you know my kids are drooling their way through school as I look on them fondly and tell you everything’s fine, perfectly fine! So I must say more, but I will keep it brief: on national standardized tests, Rob and William are both coming up as top of the class. Also, I’m pleased to report that both of them can walk AND talk AND roll over.

So when SHOULD you worry? Because I am a chronic worrier (ever since reading Laura Ingalls Wilder books as a child, I’ve been worried that we will be in such a terrible blizzard we will not be able to get back to the house from the barn) (we don’t have a barn, nor have I ever lived anywhere with a barn) (but if we did, I would totally have a guide rope stretching between them), I like to turn over this kind of worrying to my pediatrician. I say to him outright, “I worry about everything. But I’m not going to OFFICIALLY worry until you tell me to worry.” And about three times he’s said, “It’s not time to WORRY, but it’s time to do a little extra investigation,” and we do, and everything is fine. He says that, in general, as long as a child is continuing to make progress along the developmental timeline (even if the progress is slower and/or later than usual), everything is still fine.

I have been annoyed over the years by how SURPRISED people act at what is actually still within the normal range of development. “OH!” they say. “She’s still not WALKING?” And their eyes get darty with surprise and alarm. “What does the DOCTOR say?” Or maybe someone says, “Let’s see, 8 months–he must be crawling all over the place by now!” The prize goes as usual to my mother-in-law, who would ask if the baby was crawling yet, and then tell me AGAIN that children who crawl late tend to have learning disabilities. (Whuh? Even if this were true, why would she say so?)

And how should you deal with this sort of, um, concern? You could try hooking a leg behind the other person’s ankles and giving a sudden sharp shove, as I fantasized doing many a time. Or, you can act surprised right back at them: “Well, no! But she’s only 13 months!” (tone of voice communicates “Do you have a fever or something?”).

For people who have genuine concern rather than the faked concern designed to make you feel bad, you can say that the pediatrician says there’s a wide range of normal, and that he or she says your child is still well within that range. The words “well within” are not only comforting but also pointed: they communicate that not only is the concern unnecessary, it’s a little on the ignorant side. You can look at them pityingly, give a little laugh and say, “Don’t worry! I would tell you if there was anything wrong!” Like THEY’RE the big old worrywarts, while you yourself are laid-back and calm and definitely not lying awake at night fretting about how a larval child like yours will be able sit up at a desk.

Now. Perhaps you could chime in with your reassurances for Cari. Late bloomers who ended up fine or better than fine? (Or, sure, why not: early bloomers who ended up in prison and/or on drugs?)