Nicknames

Stella has had quite a few nicknames in her young life.

It all started with Juan Carlos, then she was born and Juan didn't stick. Probably because she's a she.

Then it was Stella Bird. When she cried or complained she sounded just like the bird "Kevin" from the kids movie "Up." The sound was similar to that of a peacock. We don't hear that anymore, unless we are at the zoo.

Then her nickname was Turtle, because she wouldn't roll off of her back. So if we laid (??) Her on the floor on her back, we could rest assured she would be in that same spot when we returned, however many hours later. Then, at one-year-old, she finally figured out the rolling over thing, so it didn't feel right calling her Turtle.

While she had the Turtle nickname, we'd also been calling her Grizzly Bear here and there as her personality was really starting to shine through.  This is the nickname that I think is going to stick. She even stands her ground like a Grizzly Bear.  She'll be crawling towards Joe when she gets up on her knees, scrunches up her face and screams at him, coming down on her hands for a second when she loses her balance, but getting right back up on her knees.  A picture below to help you visualize.  Joe was trying to get a picture of it today, but she kept coming closer and closer attacking him and swatting at his phone.



The bathtub picture I posted because it was bath time tonight when I was thinking of all of the different nicknames she has gone through.  Griz loves bath time and hates when I don't put her in the tub the second she discovers what time it is. So she was standing up next to the tub and then looking at me and started the usual screaming, and that screaming left me wondering what ever happened to the good ole bird calls. 

Neglect

I apologize for the neglect, but I had to focus on survival for a little while there. I've been unmedicated since Labor Day weekend and it just caught up with me.  I guess that explains the crying over my young chicken. Today I dropped Sami off at her Great Aunt Kathy's because Kathy was taking Sami and some of her cousins to the movie Dolphin Tale. Anyway, Joe helped me load up our old car seats this morning plus I went out and collected one that I gave to someone a while back (but they never ended up using it) because my Village Family Magazine says that it's Kohl's Car Seat Safety day today.  Bring in old car seats and get a $10 gift card for each one. I Googled it and got the times.  Joe wasn't able to come with because he was helping somebody move something. So I drop off Sami and then Griz and I head to Kohl's. I see nothing in the parking lot but think they must be doing it inside?? I'm pregnant, okay. What's your excuse? I load Griz up in the stroller and contemplate bringing in one of the car seats (because it would take two trips anyway), but then think for a minute and decide that I better wait to make sure they are doing it inside and I didn't get the times wrong.  I get inside and no indication of Car Seat Safety, so I ask one of the workers if she knows anything about it.  Her response was an unapologetic "there's construction in the parking lot so we had to cancel it."  Deeeeeppp Breaths. I struggled to prevent a meltdown and made it outside of the store with the stroller and no handicap accessible (auto) doors (another mama drama that I won't go into) and managed to calm myself down and get Griz loaded back into the car without crying. This is just an example of what I've been struggling with.

My emotions are ridiculous, to say the least, and I haven't been good about asking for help in the past couple of weeks to make sure that I get some 'me' time away from the kids because although I encourage people to do it, I don't do it myself unless I am at my breaking point. Mission accomplished.

I suppose that I'll have to extend my 30-day deadline. Or maybe I should just start all over. No, let's not get too crazy. I'll just add a few days to the deadline.

It's going to be a looonng four months. And fast at the same time. I've got a real post on the way tonight.  And, the plus side of my mama drama is that it will probably make for some giggles if/when I post about it!

Secret Stash

We've been missing both window cranks to our living room window for about a month now. We knew exactly who the culprit was, we just couldn't find where the stinker hid them. We searched toy boxes, under furniture, behind the TV. The ony conclusion we could come to was that she ate them. But today was our lucky day! Grizzly was crawling around with one of her big sister's little toys. I watched her crawl right on over to the sub-woofer (located conveniently close to the window) and stuck the little toy in there and then it disappeared. After what seemed like a game of "Operation" (losses=19, wins=2 window cranks), I successfully retrieved the two missing window cranks. Unfortunately, there are still quite a few toys that had to be left behind.

Tears in my Chicken

It went as well as it could making the BBQ Bacon Meatloaf last night.  I was so proud because by the time that Papa Bear got home from work shortly after 5pm, dinner was in the oven. I felt so domesticated and mother-like. Only one lifeline was used during the process: Phone-A-Father (mine, that is). WTF does mince mean? I had my guess and my dad agreed that mince could also be described as chop the shit out of.  Thank goodness my garlic lesson came a year or so ago when I was trying to be domesticated.  (The Garlic Lesson:  A garlic clove is NOT the whole garlic, it's just a little nugget off of the garlic.)  Anyway, after I minced my garlic it was time to add/combine all of the ingredients together. Woohoo! I'm making progress!  Time to add the ground (gag) chicken, which comes in a little tube. Challenge: open the tube of chicken. I used a kitchen scissor and was able to cut a little slit, but it wasn't cutting easy, so I thought that little slit would do. You know how they use those little baggie like things at the bakery to fancy decorate a cake? That's pretty much what the chicken looked like coming out of the tube.

I happen to notice that the directions/ingredients say 'ground chicken breast', so I check to see if that's what I'm using, knowing that it's too late if not. I'm using "Lean Ground Chicken." Close enough. Wait...does that say?! "YOUNG CHICKEN" I'm getting a little bit verklempt (no, I'm not Jewish, just like to throw out some yiddish once in a while). Why would they even put that on the label? Why don't they just put "whiny preschooler" or "sassy tween"?! I shed some tears, seriously, but I got through it. Or so I thought. Add the remaining ingredients: Worcestershire (?) sauce, 2 large egg whites - shit, did it say whites or yolks? Oh whatever. Add the egg whites to the mixture with the young chicken. OH MY GOD!?  Could they be related?!?  Another moment of silence, but at least this time I could be reuniting Young Chicken with its Never-Given-A-Chance younger sibling.

Supper wasn't totally healthy, but we are taking baby steps. We had Pillsbury flaky dinner rolls with it. Which turned out to be the best part of dinner, not counting dessert.  I picked the BBQ Bacon Meatloaf recipe for our first night of healthy meals because I knew we would like it. We had it about 1 1/2 years ago when I was pregnant with Grizzly and told I was just on the borderline for gestational diabetes. That's when Papa Bear was the cook. Those were the days!  Anyway, this didn't look or taste like what Papa Bear made. I followed the directions. At first I thought that maybe it didn't taste right to me because of the KitKat's that I snacked on while making my healthy dinner.  Princess Bear wasn't a fan, but she's not a fan of anything we put on her plate.  Then I got a glimpse of Papa Bear trying to swallow it without gagging to spare my feelings. Major fail.  Turns out that when he made it, he used ground TURKEY.  Probably not child turkey, either.  Grizzly Bear, however, was c h o w i n g  a w a y.  She loved it. She was screaming at me because I wasn't dishing it onto her plate fast enough.  (The picture of Grizzly below is of her shoveling the young chicken into her mouth, however, it could also be used to describe the rest of the family's reaction after tasting it.)

Our reward for making it through the healthy dinner without vomiting on the kitchen table was a big ass bowl of ice cream. I was saving my bigass bowl for later on, but wanted to reward Griz with a treat for being such an amazing eater. I dipped into Papa Bear's bowl and was scowled at and warned something like: "Don't be giving Grizzly the last few bites of my ice cream unless you plan on having more ready for her when this is gone in two seconds or unless you are prepared for a Grizzly Attack."  Not heeding to Papa Bear's warning, I continued to steal some of his ice cream to give to the Grizzly.  Sure, she happily ate it. But while she was eating the ice cream, she was still picking young chicken pieces off of her tray and eating them AT THE SAME TIME.  AND, there was no Grizzly Attack when the ice cream stopped coming.

I won't even get into what happened with my emotions when I put the young chicken down the garbage disposal.

Chaos in the Kitchen

I am not a booksmart kinda gal. That doesn't mean that I don't read a book every now and then. I'm reading a 'Love & Logic' parenting book right now (and it actually makes sense). But that's beside the point and for future posts.

I do, however, have a little bit of common sense and a pretty darn good sense of direction. But neither of those apply when it comes to me and the kitchen. I hardly know where my kitchen is. To me, making a meal for my family involves opening a box and following the directions that are provided on the side or back of it.

At five months pregnant with No. 3 (Baby Bear) and with my glucose test coming up in a couple of weeks, celiac disease test results pending, and just a glance at the food we've been consuming I realize that a food makeover is necessary. To many people, this is as simple as making a list, going to the store and making healthier meals that you can think up on your own using your own kitchen creativity.  Let me tell you that NOTHING COULD BE MORE COMPLICATED AND CHALLENGING FOR THIS GIRL! Most people just don't get how one woman could be so insanely stupid when it comes to making food and honestly, I'm not quite sure myself.

So I feel like crap. I'm tired all of the time. I'm overweight and just not healthy. I don't want my kids to grow up with the same bad food habits that I have. I still have the point of view that healthy is not fun, but I won't let my little bears hear me speak like that. I need to make a change for my whole family so that my kids can maybe have a passion for cooking and eating foods that make them well, unlike their mother who has a passion for white bread and Macaroni & Cheese.

PLAN OF ATTACKThe first plan of attack was to remove gluten from the family diet, even before I get the test results to find out if it's even necessary.  After a couple of days thinking about it and trying to plan gluten free eating I decided that was pretty far-fetched.

The second plan was to try clean eating.  Also pretty far-fetched. I need to think more along the lines of baby steps.

The third and current plan is to start with the Biggest Loser Family Cookbook which includes recipes for breakfasts, lunches, snacks, dinners, sides (excellent inclusion for dipshits like myself) and DESSERTS!  As most cookbooks tend to include, this one includes instructions and even some PICTURES!!

So my journey to a healthy mealtime began tonight with BBQ Bacon Meatloaf (chicken). I will post that drama in the morning.

Almost Forgot!

I'm updating from my phone because as I was getting ready for bed I realized i haven't updated yet today. I've been in survival mode today because I have been so tired and emotional and moody from getting four hours of sleep. For some of you, that may be the norm, but as I've said before - I need my sleep. The picture is a couple weeks old, from our Labor Day weekend trip to Sioux Falls. I used this picture for today's post because it illustrates why I didnt get to sleep until 3am.

I know what you are probably thinking, and I've been thinking it too, especially the past 22 hours: come January, I'll be drowning in Sleepless Creek. God help me!
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The Fluge Bears

 I haven't really updated on the whole family in a while, so here I go: 

Mama Bear:  As you probably know, I quit my job back in mid-July.  I wasn't very happy where I was and being pregnant and hormonal on top of that was just not working out for me. With soon-to-be three kids, I would most likely be a stay-at-home-mom come January anyway, so why not start adjusting to it with two kids.  I thought I would have to babysit/do daycare for a couple of extra kids to make ends meet, but Papa Bear has been good to me and figured things out so that I don't have to do that.  I am in the second trimester, approximately 22 weeks right now, and feeling great. However, I am starting to waddle.  No. 3 is forcing my hips out a bit (as I'm sure is normal with most pregnancies) and the feeling that I don't really know how to describe (like I need to stretch them out-constantly) makes me a waddler. Quack. Quack. 

I had a test for celiac disease and will find out the results at my next OB appointment which is the first week of October. Even if the test comes back negative, I am thinking about trying to go gluten free to see how that effects my overall self.  I am a major carb/crap food junkie, though, so what I say and what I actually do could end up being two totally different things.

Grizzly Bear:  The Griz is still not walking, but she pulls herself up and walks along furniture and has recently started standing on her own for a few seconds and, of course, cheering for herself. Sometimes before she is even standing, which makes her fall down. She is a pretty good eater (knock on wood), and doesn't turn much down.  She is definitely the joker of the family, already. Almost always making us laugh. Griz is generally a happy little 14-month-old, but if she wants something and doesn't get it right away, she lets us hear about it.


Diva Bear:  Diva Bear is a busy 4 3/4 year old.  Diva is now in preschool four afternoons a week for 2 1/2 hours per day and she loves it (so does her mama). It's only been one week so far, so not too much to report with preschool. She is in gymnastics instead of dance this year, mostly because it burns more energy than dance. Diva loves gymnastics and keeps asking me when they get to practice cartwheels. So far they have worked on somersaults and handstands, plus a little bit of the fun stuff like the trampoline and foam pit. Another bonus of her gymnastics and preschool is that she gets to share the two experiences with her best friend/cousin Nora. Next on Diva's weekly agenda is Sunday school, except she goes on Wednesday's this year. She has a busy schedule, but it works out good because it doesn't give her very much time to miss her old daycare.


Papa Bear: Papa Bear is busy working to make up for the income lost since I quit my job. As I mentioned in a previous post, he works his regular job then trains hunting dogs and will be snowblowing again this winter for extra income. He got a couple of good motorcycle rides in this summer, but is still (in my opinion, at least) working on adjusting to not riding as much now that he has a family...that keeps growing. At least this riding season he has a reliable motorcycle that hasn't broke down once. NOT ONCE. Did I mention it hasn't broken down at all? We haven't been able to say that about the Indian since the day he got it - brand new. It's nice to see him getting riding time in without having to deal with breakdowns.


That concludes today's update on Da Bears.