(MommyJD) Kiss the Cook

In addition to my kids, hair care, and coupons, cooking has become my latest and greatest hobby. And Lord I never thought I'd actually say that. But yes, since becoming a bonafide homemaker and mother of two, I have gone from microwaving easy mac to making gourmet dishes from scratch. Lately my recipe collection has grown tremendously and I really am enjoying my creations, such as chicken empanadas, red velvet cupcakes, and tikka masala, just to name a few.

The desire to learn to cook better stemmed from my acceptance of the old school gender role of women as the household cook. As a newlywed I could only rotate my staple dishes of catfish, lasagna, mexican lasagna, spaghetti, fettucini alfredo- hmmm I guess all this pasta is the reason why I gained so much weight during my mid-20s. I digress.

Anyway, a slight nudge and a few subtle hints from my hubby and I realized I needed to expand my portfolio. So over the last 5 years I have come up with some awesome concoctions. My most recent claims to fame, including homemade pizza, fish tacos, and crab cakes, are courtesy of monthly rendezvous with Trader Joe's. That store screams yummy goodness.

Fortunately my husband likes just about everything I cook. He's a gracious eater, even when my experimenting goes awry. My son however is not so gracious. He's the type of child you have to sneak vegetables to by cooking them with other foods. Lately I've been putting ground flax seed in his oatmeal and applesauce and telling him that it's cinnamon.

My goal is to mold my baby girl into a more adventurous eater. I can already tell she loves to eat. I make her food from scratch as well and we haven't found a food she doesn't like. Even when she was sick, loss of appetite was not one of her symptoms. I recently started reading a book called Hungry Monkey that I saw Neil Patrick Harris talking about on The Chew. It's a good read about giving babies more than just fruit and vegetable purees. Now I can't wait for KJ to eat a pureed version of my enchiladas and spicy stir fry!

Check out our Recipes and Meals page to see some of our favorite foods and cooking tips!

(MommyJD) Along with a Fence, I Need a Bubble

If my baby girl gets sick one more time, I just might hire someone to design a plastic bubble for her to live in. I have a feeling Michael Jackson desired the same thing for his kids but settled on masks. That will be my back up plan if the bubble is too expensive.

You see, KJ is 7 months old now and and currently experiencing "Strike 2" as her pediatrician calls it. Strike 1 occurred in February when she caught a bad cold from her brother. After 3 days of her looking miserable with a fever and cough, my husband and I finally

got a clue that this was serious business. Since my husband was the only one in our house not sick, he took her to After Hours care as soon as it opened that Sunday morning. They were gone for 4 excruciatingly long hours. When they returned I found out that my baby had been through quite an ordeal- they gave her shots, an x-ray, and lots of drugs to get her 104 temperature down. I was told to take her back to the doctor first thing Monday morning to see her regular pediatrician, which I was happy to do as there was no real improvement in her condition. She was still wheezing and coughing and her x-ray showed pulmonary consolidation- basically there was lots of gunk in her lungs because she didn't know how to get rid of mucus.

Sitting in the doctor's office while the doctor debated over how to treat my little ladybug was more than overwhelming. But when he told me that he wanted to admit her to the hospital I nearly lost it. I didn't want to get on the phone while still waiting for clear instructions so all I could do was start texting my husband, sister, and mother-in-law. I'm sure my one line of "she's being admitted to the hospital" was scary for them as well. I managed to gather myself, hold in my tears, and make my way to the hospital to make sure my baby got better fast.

After 3 very long days in the hospital, KJ was discharged with a diagnosis of RSV, bronchialitis, and pneumonia. We came home with a nebulizer for breathing treatments and a can of Lysol to disinfect our entire house. My son began a new regimen of scrubbing his hands as soon as he got home from school.

Fast forward 4 weeks and my preschooler comes back from his germ-infested school with another cold and a low grade fever. He loves his baby sis to death and has to always be near her, up under her, next to her, across from her, etc. He has a conniption if she is not sitting chair to chair next to him at the dinner table and throws a tantrum if she cannot sit in his room to watch him play. So needless to say, I was nervous about her catching his cold. Despite my attempts to keep my two kids apart, baby girl got sick. Again.

I watched her cough develop for 2 days until one particular bark sent me straight to the phone to call the doctor. I took her in the next morning and, after examining her, the doctor applauded my instinct to bring her in before this advanced into something worse. So here we are with more meds, more breathing treatments, and a new pre-diagnosis of childhood asthma (which comes with even more expensive meds). This kid is determined to single-handedly reach our family insurance deductible for 2012.

Thus, for the past week I have been praying for Jesus to be a Fence around my sickly child and to heal her quickly. Before even reaching her first birthday KJ has stressed me out by testing coombs positive (jaundice), having an umbilical hernia, spouts of eczema, fevers, wheezing, RSV, bronchialitis, pnemonia...sigh, I definitely need a bubble.

(MommyJD) My Very Own Amazing Race

I do not claim to be an extreme couponer by any means. My basement doesn't look like a Walgreens and I don't have a year's supply of toilet paper. But I would call myself an above average coupon shopper. For the last three years I have saved an average of 50% on all household purchases, including groceries, toiletries, and even clothes. Already this year I have used $675 in coupons. How do I do it? I read (or skim) a lot of coupon blogs and try to only buy things that are 1) on sale and 2) something I have a coupon for. I post the best deals that I find on my Tumblr, To Save or To Spend, which are also posted on our Momma Deals page.

A few months ago, I was talking to one of my good friends from law school about couponing and how some people hoard things that they don't even use. It seemed to us that the better alternative would be to use our coupon knowledge to spend little to nothing on items and donate them to charity. I mentioned that some of the blogs I follow do like to donate their excess purchases to the Samaritan's Purse international project, Operation Christmas Child. As our conversation evolved, we both got excited at the prospect of each of us shopping year round to pack boxes for OCC. To put an extra spin on it, we decided to make it a competition between the two of us to see who could pack the most boxes. Our monthly budget is $10 and our budget per box is $2.50. Using those numbers we set a goal to pack 48 boxes each. The only kicker is that every box needs an additional $7 for shipping. Any tips on how raise that money would be greatly appreciated!

Read more about our shopping adventures and frugal finds on our blog, Operation Amazing Coupon Race!

(MommyJD) Hair Overboard

My earliest hair memory is when I cut off my long side ponytail in the bathroom when I was six years old. I was under the supervision of my sister and she did a piss poor job of supervising. My mother was devastated.

My next memory is 4 years later later when I was invited to a swimming party sleepover. Since I could not bring my mother, the pressing comb, and our kitchen stove along with me, I insisted that my mother let me have a relaxer. To this day I cannot believe that she went along with this plan just so that I would have "manageable" hair and not look like a mini wildebeest in front of my caucasian friends. But in her defense she was probably tired of our hot kitchen sessions with the pressing comb.

After 9 years of getting regular relaxers I finally ceased putting creamy crack on my scalp and decided to go natural. One workshop from an older Spelman sister and I was convinced that my hair could do without the chemicals. I've never doubted my decision, but there have been some bumps along my journey to long natural hair.

I wish there had been blogs back when I was a freshman at Spelman to guide me through my hair woes. Perhaps there was and I just couldn't find it or didn't seek the information. But these days there is an overwhelming presence of hair blogs from Curly Nikki to Black Girl Long Hair that provide tons of tips and advice about keeping natural hair healthy. And this is my latest obsession.

Recently KJ and I sat down in my bathroom and inspected every (and there are several) hair product underneath my bathroom sink. Like I said, this hair business can get overwhelming, but from the few blogs I do read I have learned what ingredients are good for your hair, which are not so good, and which are absolute no-nos. I ended up throwing away half of my supply to make room for better products that will feed my hair. I'm such a product junkie! My newest products are currently in the mail and are courtesy of VAiN, a new company by another fellow Spelman sister. She has turned me into a bona-fide ingredient snob, lol!

(2 Karats and a Kid) Everything I needed to know about life, I learned from my Cocker Spaniel

On Sunday morning I did something that I never thought that I would ever do. 

I gave my Cocker Spaniel to the Anti-Cruelty Society. 

Even writing it makes my heart hurt.

You see, I’m what you would call a “dog person”.   Since my childhood, I’ve had lots of dogs - 1 German Shepherd, 3 mutts, 1 Akita, 1 Labrador, and 1 Cocker Spaniel to be exact.  Although all of the other dogs technically belonged to my parents, Capone – my cocker spaniel, was all mine. 

For all intents and purposes he was my first child.

By now you are probably thinking, “I thought this chick was cool, but what type of person gives up her first kid?” 

I’ve asked myself that same question for the past three days.

I got married three years ago, to a man who for all intents and purposes is NOT a dog person.  But out of his love for me, he married us both accommodating years and years of having his clothes peed on and his shoes eaten up.

As my dog grew older, his bladder became weaker and weaker, and waking up to “puddles and nuggets” became a more common occurrence.

We found ourselves bleaching our hardwood floors daily and shampooing our carpet weekly.  We tried walking my dog before and after meals.  We tried locking him in his cage during the night.  We tried a gluten free diet.  We tried thyroid medicine.  We tried everything.

Even with the introduction of our son into our lives, we continued to try to make things work.  

Unfortunately, my dog couldn’t help himself.

So on Sunday morning, my husband did what I could never do, but what also needed to be done.  I had always told him that he would have to be the one to take him if it ever got to the point where it became unbearable. 

So he asked me if I wanted him to go get some coffee.  He left out the house.  An hour later, in panic, I realized what had happened and I cried.

And though it hurts me deeply, I don’t resent my husband and I know that this was the best decision.  So for now, I try to appreciate all the little lessons that Capone taught me.

He taught me that good things happen when you least expect it:

He was given to my parents unexpectedly.  At the same time, my sister and I were moving out of the house for the first time and they gave him to us.  In return, I received eight years of unconditional love.

He taught me that you protect the ones that you love:

When I moved into a place on my own, my cocker spaniel turned into a vicious guard dog when he sensed danger.    He had a heck of a sense of discernment.   He often tried to attack people who wore their pants down low.

He taught me that the only things that really matter are food, water, and love.

He taught me that sitting in the sunlight makes you feel great.

He taught me that dogs, like people, like the taste of a good martini.

He taught me that sometimes, no matter how much it may hurt, relationships change and that no one is to blame.

He taught me that sometimes, the best way to love something is to recognize when you can’t love it the way it deserves to be loved.

He taught me that in life, sometimes the introduction and expansion of love in one aspect of your life calls for the end of love in another.

So I love you my Capon-y Macaroni.  Thank you for being a great friend.  I pray for you every night.  I hope that you are adopted by a millionaire who will feed you filet mignot for the rest of your life. 

(MommyJD) Taking a Break

MommyJD? Wtf, where you been? Well, let's see- my husband's motivation and drive to own our very own home in the suburbs meant I had to pack up an entire house in the hottest month of 2011- while 9 months pregnant. Three weeks after settling into our quaint house in the woods enters my lovely lovely Ladybug. She's my princess doll baby and she is now almost 6 months old. Man, time flies! She is so spoiled and in love with her big brother. How's big brother? Well he's had quite a few adjustments with a new house, new school, and new little person in his life.

So now that we've gotten all caught up, let me tell you why I'm taking a break to write this post. My partner 2 Karats and a Kid is making me look bad! Lol. She is getting her 2012 ON and I am so proud of her. I just caught up on all her blog posts so naturally I have to counter with at least one.

Life is super hectic but I have to remember that we decided to write this blog as an outlet. So even though it is few and far between that my 3 year old takes a nap anymore, I still have to sit down and vent a little bit. Usually if I get this time to myself I try to clean up, catch up on my coupon blogs, fold laundry... oh yeah, and EAT (still have to do that). Sadly when people send me links to good articles and blogs I find myself only skimming them to get the gist because I know my free time is limited. I just wanted to echo 2 Karats sentiment that this ish is HARD, but it is the most rewarding job a woman could ever have and we are so blessed to be able to spend time teaching and shaping our children into wonderful people.

On that note, hope to see you more in 2012. I gotta go put something in my own kangaroo pouch before Ladybug wakes up from her cat nap!

(2 Karats and a Kid) The working mom/stay-at-home mom conundrum..(Part 1)

Mommy-ism #21: Don't freak out if you question everything that you thought you knew about yourself after having a baby.

So I started this post around in February 2011 right before I returned to work from my maternity leave. And by "started", I simply mean that I named it and saved it as a draft. Ten months later, as I find myself returning back to my poorly maintained blog, it's funny how my perspective and my reality of being a working and now, non-working mother has evolved.

In February, I was wrapped up in the allure of being a new mother. My baby boy was (and still is) pretty freaking cute, seemed to be a very laid back kid, and had a congenital heart issue which meant that he was sewn to my arms for the first few months of his life because I never wanted to put him down. Just as a eigthteen year old girl can't imagine leaving her first love for college - the thought of leaving the pint-sized version of the love of my life to return to a job that I loathed seemed unimaginable. In fact, it seemed damn near like cruel and unusual treatment. I was pissed at my husband for reasons that I couldn't articulate. I had anxiety of leaving my sweet little baby in the care of someone else - even if it was my parents and only for two and a half days a week since I was returning to work part time.

Yet, when I returned to the real world of actual adult conversations, lunch meetings, and coffee breaks, I quickly realized that having time away from my baby was not only welcomed but much needed. Yes, I still hated my job and my boss at the time - yet, I found myself looking forward to dropping my baby off in the morning so I can hurry up and get my latte and be "me" - even if it was only for 4-8 hours, two days a week.

In many ways, it was the perfect setup except for the fact that I was often too exhausted on the days that I worked to cook for my husband. So when my project ended and me and MOFO (my boss) came to a mutual agreement to part professional ways, I wondered whether I had what it takes to become a full-time stay-at-home mom (until I transitioned into a new job).

I imagined that I would finally find time to write, and would have endless joy gazing into my infant's eyes throughout the day just as I had ten months ago when I was on maternity leave. Very quickly, I realized that was the far from the reality.

Being a stay-at-home mother is without a doubt the hardest job that I have ever worked in my entire life. 

I have worked since I was 16 years old and have had more jobs then most people have had in their lives. I've worked with Chicago politicians for peet's sake! But I soon realized that caring for a crawling, growing, curious, and hungry little boy is not for the weary or meek of heart.

I quickly had to grow accustomed to vacuuming, cooking, and washing clothes while holding a baby or while holding his hand simple because he wanted to work on his standing and walking skills. And writing? Fat chance.  There was no possibility of opening my laptop or picking up my iPad without my curious little boy seeing it as an opportunity to bam on the keyboard or try using them as chew toys.

Being a stay-at-home mother also changes the dynamic of a marriage. With my husband as the primary financial contributor to our household (and by primary, I mean the "sole" provider to our household) there was a self-imposed pressure to increase my domestic skills from nill to awesomeness.

Cleaning - not cooking - has always been my domestic skill of choice.  Yet, as my husband bravely stepped into the role of sole provider I knew that I had no choice but to do the same in the role of Awesome Domestic Goddess/Mother/Wife.

Starting between 5:30 and 6:00 am everyday I play lead in feeding my child/cooking for my husband/cleaning the house/walking the dog/going grocery shopping/and trying to teach my child how to say "hi", clap his hands, walk, and recognize the letter "a".

Most times, our television remains off (which the exception of the Discovery or History channel) because I don't want my child to develop ADD from watching too much television. On the days that my husband is not working, which are few and far between, I continue to play the lead in feeding my child/cooking for my husband/cleaning the house/walking the dog/going grocery shopping/and trying to teach my child how to say "hi", clap his hands, walk, and recognize the letter "a" because I want my husband to rest since he "works" so much.

There are no days off.

Yet, the silver lining is this...I have began to re-learn the lesson of being present. Even when I'm about to put a chicken in the oven, and the water is about to run over in the sink, and the dog is barking like crazy because he needs to be walked, and I want so badly to be able to complete SOMETHING, when my child begins to cry everything must come to a stop. Rather he is hungry or fell off of the couch, or accidentally ate something that is typically used as currency - things come to standstill when he needs me. And though this is sometimes annoying and inconvenient in it's own way it has been a reminder to not fight against the current of my life and to trust that at any given moment I am exactly in the place and space where I am supposed to be.