Since having Wiggles, my body is different. One: I still weight ten pounds more than I did before Wiggles decided to implant herself and grow. Two: how I carry that extra ten pounds is different than how I usually carry weight. Last time I had a huge weight gain, EVERYTHING grew wider. Hips, waist, bust, legs, arms...you get the idea. This time those pesky ten pounds (or sixteen after the holidays) sits right where Wiggles used to hang out. Only, now instead of being all hard and baby filled, it's just saggy and empty. I can feel my abs once more, but after eight months, I accepted the fact it's kind of here to stay. My hips aren't all that wider, but my waist is two inches wider than it was before Wiggles. (BW.)
So, I sighed and chucked my favorite Lucky Brand jeans, those VS jeans I've had since I was 25, and my various other jeans/pants. (Except my American Eagle ones I've had since I did that first major weight gain while in Del Rio. Those, oddly, still fit me just fine. No clue why as the others are all the same style, just different brands. But whatever.) I dreaded, deeply dreaded, finding new pants. I have never liked buying new pants. Mostly because they don't make pants for me. When I was a twig, nothing fit because unlike most twigs, I had hips and a butt. (Go figure.) And while I matched up measurement wise perfectly with a size six across the board, some times I needed a four, sometimes a two, and once a zero.
After Wiggles (AW), I don't fit in anywhere. My hips are the same size, my bust depends on the day of the week, and my waist is a size ten. I wouldn't mind wearing a size ten. I don't care about the number, I mostly care about how my butt is going to fit into a size ten. Because while my so called waist is a size ten, my butt is still a size six. And I know there are a whole bunch of people who have a similar problem. And I know there are pants that are made for people like me. However, I cannot try these pants on easily because I live in the middle of nowhere.
Also, I don't want to pay a lot of money, but I really wanted designer jeans. I mean, I've always wanted designer jeans, but I didn't understand paying 100 or more for jeans. I had a heart attack when I hit the buy button on my Lucky Brand jeans and they were only 88, and I got extra marked off for being a first time buyer on the website. But, that's a lot of money for a pair of pants.
Then, while buying clothing for Wiggles, I realized: If they have online consignment for children, they must have them for women. I had seen a news story back when I was pregnant about online congisnment, but it was mostly really high end stuff and mostly purses. I didn't need a new purse (shocking, I know), but I did need new pants.
So, after buying Wiggle's some new jammies to fit her super long body from Moxie Jean , I did a web search for online consignment. I wound up on a website called ThredUp. I surfed around, looking at what they had, what they took, and realized it was right up my alley. It was a mix of high end and the middle of the road. Basically, everything I wore and what I aspired to.
My first order, I ordered mostly jeans. Because that was what I needed. After much deliberation, I decided I'd try a size 29, a size up from what all my old jeans were and a size down from what all the sites claimed I needed for my new waist. While, when you order enough to get free shipping your order will take what feels like a life time to zigzag from California to where you are (sometimes being mere miles away yet going to Dallas for some reason), it is worth it. The prices for their lightly used designer items is great and you can easily return anything that doesn't fit. You have to pay for the return, but clothes are light and if they are heavy, flat boxes work just fine.
Anyhoo, I got four pairs of jeans to start out. James Jeans, Citizens of Humanity, Hudson, and 7 For All Mankind. All size 29.
The James Jeans were rather tight, but they were supposed to be legging jeans. After I wore them a few hours, they stretched out perfectly. Now I just air dry them on a hanger pulling the waist to keep the shape I molded.
Citizen for Humanity fit perfectly right out of the box. They were also trouser style, which I LOVE. They reminded me of my favorite pair of Levi's had in college that bit the dust awhile ago. (I still have them, but don't wear them for fear of them falling apart.) My only issue: after two wears, they loose their shape and fall down all the time. I had totally forgotten this was an issue for regular jeans. I hadn't had this issue until I tried to wear maternity jeans, but it seems to be my new world. As the Hudson jeans did the same thing. Even if I wear a belt, by the second wear, I'm always pulling my pants up.
The 7 For All Mankind jeans didn't fit at all. Couldn't even button them. So, I sent them back with other items that didn't fit and ordered the next size up. I have a feeling since they fit perfectly right out of the box, in a few hours I'll be pulling them up as well. Such is life. While reordering the 7s, I ordered a pair of green jeggings by Habitual. Never heard of them, but green pants! They looked like they'd be way too small, but they fit fine but were super long. All the jeans I got claimed to have 32 inch inseams. Well, except the 7s. They claim they have 31. I'm not sure who measures inseams of the jeans I've been wearing, as I've always worn a 32 when I want to wear flats and a 34 when I wear heels. Clearly, when the company claims it's a 32, it's really not because none of my former jeans were too long unless they were 34s.
Maybe I shrunk?
Now, I've also used the selling side of this site. I sent in a bag before the holidays. However, due to the volume of people unloading clothing on them, they are backed up and I haven't gotten my itemized list of what they took. I did, at the same time, send off a bunch of Wiggle's old stuff to Moxie and heard back. I sent in 102, but they only took 64. They did tell me why they didn't take the items they rejected and all things that are nice (which mine were) are donated to a local charity. Hence why I went with them when I was doing my research for kids consignment online. (There's thrift stores in this place, but no kid consignment.) ThredUp also says they donate the things they don't take, so I view it as either way, I get it out of my house easily and get a little bit of money (or store credit. For Moxie if you spend your money one their site, you get ten bucks extra. I will be spending it there, as Wiggles keeps growing.)
Alright, I must end this entry of somewhat random pointlessness and dry my hair before Wiggles wakes up from her nap as I said I'd go to a fini flight (Final Flight) for one of our friends whose getting the hell out of Dodge.
05 January 2015
No Time.
In the eight months I've had Wiggles in my life, I have learned one thing about her: she doesn't nap consistently.
Take this morning. It's our first morning home after being gone for two weeks. For two weeks she had no schedule. Why? Because between her and various relatives, no schedule I wished to put in place would work. So, when she began to get cranky at 10.30, I pushed her through till 11, fed her, bottled her, put her to sleep. She went happily. I figured I had two hours to exercise, get some things I need to returned done, and then I'd eat.
Nope.
It's an hour an half since I put her down and Wiggles is up and around, screaming.
WHY WILL SHE NOT NAP?
No clue. She's never napped properly. Some days, I get a three hours nap, sometimes I get a half hour. Some days, she refuses to nap at all. I honestly thought this didn't start till she was older, but she's been doing this since we left the hospital.
So, I was going to do a nice long blog post about my year or something, but I can't. Because she woke up.
I also didn't get my returns processed because the post office is being stupid.
An unexpected error keeps happening and they refuse to take my money.
Take this morning. It's our first morning home after being gone for two weeks. For two weeks she had no schedule. Why? Because between her and various relatives, no schedule I wished to put in place would work. So, when she began to get cranky at 10.30, I pushed her through till 11, fed her, bottled her, put her to sleep. She went happily. I figured I had two hours to exercise, get some things I need to returned done, and then I'd eat.
Nope.
It's an hour an half since I put her down and Wiggles is up and around, screaming.
WHY WILL SHE NOT NAP?
No clue. She's never napped properly. Some days, I get a three hours nap, sometimes I get a half hour. Some days, she refuses to nap at all. I honestly thought this didn't start till she was older, but she's been doing this since we left the hospital.
So, I was going to do a nice long blog post about my year or something, but I can't. Because she woke up.
I also didn't get my returns processed because the post office is being stupid.
An unexpected error keeps happening and they refuse to take my money.
02 September 2014
Finishing Something
I do finish things. When I bake, I finish the recipe. I've finished a few scrapbooks. I almost alway finish reading books I start. And I've actually finished writing quite a few stories/books. However, no matter how many times I finish something, I still get SUPER excited when I finish something major. And today, I finished something major.
Don't Ever Change.
It's done.
I wrote the last bit today.
I hate writing endings. Mostly because I suck at them.
However, it is DONE.
Granted, I did not exactly write the ending I wrote many moons ago while sitting in a bathroom that had a toilet in it that wouldn't stop flushing. And I ended up doing something I hadn't planned on doing, but in the end, I'm happy with how it ended.
BUT I AM DONE...with Don't Ever Change. (Other than editing the hell out of it, but the rough draft is the hardest thing to get done.)
Don't Ever Change.
It's done.
I wrote the last bit today.
I hate writing endings. Mostly because I suck at them.
However, it is DONE.
Granted, I did not exactly write the ending I wrote many moons ago while sitting in a bathroom that had a toilet in it that wouldn't stop flushing. And I ended up doing something I hadn't planned on doing, but in the end, I'm happy with how it ended.
BUT I AM DONE...with Don't Ever Change. (Other than editing the hell out of it, but the rough draft is the hardest thing to get done.)
27 August 2014
It's 110 and I Want Fro-Yo
Awhile ago, I was cruising the aisle of the commissary and came across this Chobani Key Lime Pie Crumble Greek Yogurt. I ate quite a few of them and really wanted to try to make Key Lime Pie. Then I read recipes and I was like, "Yikes. Raw eggs."
Then, a few weeks down the line, I was eating some plain Greek yogurt and dark chocolate sauce and I thought, "This would be great frozen."
So, at first I tried to make it in the blender, like a smoothy. That wasn't what I wanted. So, I broke down and got out the ice cream maker.
My mom got Pilot Boy an ice cream maker when he graduated pilot training many moons ago. Pilot Boy loves ice cream. Well, mostly Dairy Queen ice cream, but he'll eat other ice cream as well. Anyways, we used it I think twice before we left the Dirt Hole. Shortly after I discovered Pinterest and desperately wanted Cake Batter ice cream because there were no Cold Stones in Alaska, I took it back out and used it a few times. The Cake Batter ice cream went horribly. I also wanted to try something more healthy, so I tried Cake Batter frozen yogurt.
It worked! And it was good! And healthier than ice cream!
Since arriving the land of Okies where most days (even in the winter) it's way too hot to function, I did not unearth the ice cream maker till recently. Why? Because we had a crummy batch of strawberries that I thought I could turn into frozen yogurt.
The berries went bad before the container was frozen, so that idea died.
BUT...
Since the bowl was already in the freezer, I mixed up some yogurt and chocolate and made some frozen greek yogurt.
The chocolate batch wasn't that great. It was a little too tangy, likely due to the plain greek yogurt I used. Also, everything I use baking chocolate in never tastes right.
I washed the bowl, put it back in the freezer and decided to try again. While picking up things to make more, I found Key Lime Greek Yogurt. Without the crumble stuff. I stared, mouth open and grabbed up six of them. (I also picked up some watermelon. I ate that one yesterday just to taste it and think it'll be good as frozen yogurt too.)
Today, I looked up recipes on Pinterest, found a simple one, and got down to work.
Key Lime (Or whatever flavor) Greek Frozen Yogurt: The Recipe.
6 containers of Chobani Key Lime (or whatever) Greek Yogurt
(Next time I think I'll use seven. I didn't have exactly a whole quart, so I added three tablespoons because I thought it was a bit watery.)
1/2 can low fat (or high fat if you really want) condensed milk
(I might have used more, as the can claimed to be 14 fl oz, so I measured out 7 fl oz, but there seemed to be less than half left over in the can when I was done.)
1 tablespoon vanilla
1/4 teaspoon salt
Add all ingredients together, mix, and dump into an ice cream maker. Follow the ice cream maker's directions.
Once done, scoop into a freezer safe container and put it in the freezer. It'll harden up, so just let it sit on the counter a wee bit before eating.
26 August 2014
The Tale of Finding Diapers and Wipes
Before Wiggles was born, I researched diapers. Any mom to be would do this, right?
Yeah.
Was there really a point?
No.
What type of diaper you choose is up to you. While Pampers might claim to be the best, you might discover you cannot stand Pampers because they never contain the exploding poop. Someone might tell you that Huggies are the greatest diapers known to man, but when you put them on your kid, her leg isn't fat enough to prevent any leaking. People might love those environmentally friendly diapers, but you live in the middle of nowhere and they aren't sold at Walmart.
Wiggles wears Luvs. (You live and learn, and then you get Luvs.) Why does Wiggles wear Luvs?
1. They fit her tiny butt.
2. They hold in the exploding poop because they fit her skinny, little legs.
When Wiggles was born, she was a skinny little thing and the newborn diapers didn't fit. Seriously, they were too big. We had to overlap the little straps just to get them to stay up. Since all hospitals love Pampers, we had a free package of Pampers. So, we used them. I didn't like them because they were too big.
Then she began exploding poops. And I liked them even less.
Now, because I had done my research and learned there was no diaper that was the best, I had bought all three brands available in newborn size in town. (Pampers, Huggies, and Luvs.) Finding newborn sized diapers was a trial. But, I'll get to that later.
We used up the first bag of Pampers from the hospital and moved onto the Luvs.
I liked those the best.
Next up, Huggies.
I am not sure who Huggies newborns are made for, but they weren't made for long, skinny babies. Huggies period aren't made for skinny legged babies. (We have size 2 Huggies that we got as a gift from Pilot Boy's work.) I cannot get those stupid things tight enough to prevent side leakage.
So, those were out.
Pampers were okay, but I didn't feel they held a lot of anything, but I used them in a pinch because...Walmart only got in a shipment of newborn sized Luvs like every other month. And then they'd only have like two packages. Wiggles was also in newborns till she was almost two months. She likely would still be wearing them, only they are meant for tiny loads, not two month sized loads.
So, we moved to size one in Luvs.
And then no one every had those either.
No one every has the size I want. Wiggles is now in the size 2 and no one every has size two Luvs. They'll have every size I do not need, but never the size I do.
Bah.
Now, I didn't do any research for wipes. A wipe is a wipe, right?
No.
Once again, whilst at the hospital, we were given a travel package of Pampers Sensitive wipes. I had bought smaller packages of various unscented wipes to use in my wipe warmer. I had Pampers and Huggies, as those were the only wipes they had at Walmart. (Well, other than the Walmart brand, but I'm a snob.) I used the Pampers for awhile, even bought a huge bag of them to restock the wipe warmer. Then, I discovered a HUGE thing of Huggies All Natural Wipes. I'm pretty sure those weren't there when I first was trying out wipes, but I got them anyways because they were cheaper than the huge package of Pampers.
Whoa. When they say you only need one wipe to clean up, they really weren't lying. I also love how thick the Huggies wipes are.
So, I use Luvs diapers because they fit my kid's skinny little legs and Huggies wipes because they are thick and wonderful to wipe her butt.
Yeah.
Was there really a point?
No.
What type of diaper you choose is up to you. While Pampers might claim to be the best, you might discover you cannot stand Pampers because they never contain the exploding poop. Someone might tell you that Huggies are the greatest diapers known to man, but when you put them on your kid, her leg isn't fat enough to prevent any leaking. People might love those environmentally friendly diapers, but you live in the middle of nowhere and they aren't sold at Walmart.
Wiggles wears Luvs. (You live and learn, and then you get Luvs.) Why does Wiggles wear Luvs?
1. They fit her tiny butt.
2. They hold in the exploding poop because they fit her skinny, little legs.
When Wiggles was born, she was a skinny little thing and the newborn diapers didn't fit. Seriously, they were too big. We had to overlap the little straps just to get them to stay up. Since all hospitals love Pampers, we had a free package of Pampers. So, we used them. I didn't like them because they were too big.
Then she began exploding poops. And I liked them even less.
Now, because I had done my research and learned there was no diaper that was the best, I had bought all three brands available in newborn size in town. (Pampers, Huggies, and Luvs.) Finding newborn sized diapers was a trial. But, I'll get to that later.
We used up the first bag of Pampers from the hospital and moved onto the Luvs.
I liked those the best.
Next up, Huggies.
I am not sure who Huggies newborns are made for, but they weren't made for long, skinny babies. Huggies period aren't made for skinny legged babies. (We have size 2 Huggies that we got as a gift from Pilot Boy's work.) I cannot get those stupid things tight enough to prevent side leakage.
So, those were out.
Pampers were okay, but I didn't feel they held a lot of anything, but I used them in a pinch because...Walmart only got in a shipment of newborn sized Luvs like every other month. And then they'd only have like two packages. Wiggles was also in newborns till she was almost two months. She likely would still be wearing them, only they are meant for tiny loads, not two month sized loads.
So, we moved to size one in Luvs.
And then no one every had those either.
No one every has the size I want. Wiggles is now in the size 2 and no one every has size two Luvs. They'll have every size I do not need, but never the size I do.
Bah.
Now, I didn't do any research for wipes. A wipe is a wipe, right?
No.
Once again, whilst at the hospital, we were given a travel package of Pampers Sensitive wipes. I had bought smaller packages of various unscented wipes to use in my wipe warmer. I had Pampers and Huggies, as those were the only wipes they had at Walmart. (Well, other than the Walmart brand, but I'm a snob.) I used the Pampers for awhile, even bought a huge bag of them to restock the wipe warmer. Then, I discovered a HUGE thing of Huggies All Natural Wipes. I'm pretty sure those weren't there when I first was trying out wipes, but I got them anyways because they were cheaper than the huge package of Pampers.
Whoa. When they say you only need one wipe to clean up, they really weren't lying. I also love how thick the Huggies wipes are.
So, I use Luvs diapers because they fit my kid's skinny little legs and Huggies wipes because they are thick and wonderful to wipe her butt.
09 June 2014
Birth, Poop, Wiggles Worm, and Cankles
Giving birth was as horrible as I thought it'd be. It sucked. It was uncomfortable, long, and painful. Even with an epidural--which only totally numbed one side of my lower regions. Oh, and I threw up. (Mostly due to the pain and contractions during the time epidural ran out, though no one told me till after Wiggle Worm appeared.)
And of course the hip where Wiggle Worm got stuck on the way down was on the side where the epidural wasn't working.
So, after twenty seven hours of labor (fifteen which were spent at home, three which were spent walking around the hospital without pain killers waiting to dilate to three centimeters, as they wouldn't admit me till I was fully three centimeters (I was tragically only one when I arrived after fifteen hours of suffering), and at least one was spent in heavy labor without an epidural because the bag ran out), I spent two hours trying to push my kid out and not getting anywhere because she was stuck in my right hip. (She'd come down a little and go right back.)
I honestly have no clue why anyone would not want an epidural. Because even if it didn't fully work, how the hell does anyone deal with the pain without at least some of the edge taken off. (Granted, I am a huge wimp, so maybe I'm not the best person to ask?)
After twenty seven hours of pain and suffering (and cursing even thought Pilot Boy kept chiding me when I did), I was presented with a wiggly baby with a full head of hair and a skin tone at least three times darker than my own. Pilot Boy commented, "That baby's darker than you and she'd never seen the sun."
She clearly has her father's skin and not mine. (I'd make a vampire look tan.)
Anyways, after channeling a scene out of Kill Bill that freaked out the whole room, grossed out my husband, and went unnoticed by me as I was staring at the tiny being on my chest, the room cleared out and I was left behind with a baby and a tired husband. (I slept after they'd put the epidural in, but Pilot Boy didn't.) We spent two hours alone with our new baby, marveling at her and trying not to fall asleep.
I was exhausted. I don't even want to think about how I'd felt if I'd failed to sleep a bit.
So, two hours after I'd popped out a baby with a thirteen inch round head, Pilot Boy and the baby left to go to the nursery and I had to go to the bathroom.
They make you try to go like a normal person, even though I told them I wasn't going to be able to. After my appendix was removed, I couldn't go, so why would I be able now? No matter how many times I told them this, they refused to believe me and made me try. I might have been able to, as guess what? I really had to go. But, there was this stupid thing that was supposed to measure the amount that kind of was in the way. Add on the uncomfortable toilet, and there was no way I was going to go.
And upon seeing how swollen I was down there, I can't think why they'd thought I'd be able to go on my own in the first place.
Seriously, after not seeing anything down there for four months, I was rather shocked to see it again and it looking so alien. (Even if I knew this was going to happen. I read all about it.)
After having an argument with the nurse in charge of me with whether I ought to take a percocet without eating anything for over twelve hours (I do not have a good relationship with heavy duty pain killers that you take orally. Inject it into my butt and I'm fine, but give me a pill and it is all down hill), I was left alone for about a half hour till lunch showed up.
Lunch made me want to throw up, but the ibuprofen they'd given me shortly before they kicked me out of the birthing room (because the day Wiggle Worm was born was busy, so I went to a better room) wasn't doing anything for the pain, so I forced myself to eat some of it. (Seriously, do not give greasy lasagna or anything tomato based to someone who hasn't eaten for an extended period.) The nurse returned and made me take the percocet.
I took it, only because unlike vicodin, I can take one percocet without it making me sick. She seemed to think I was making a big deal out of nothing, but I know me. I know my reactions and I had told the nurse at the doctor's office, but clearly they didn't put that in my chart or anything as they were sitting there trying to shove the very drug I said didn't agree with me down my throat.
I only took one percocet and it knocked me out for four hours. Which was fine. We were all tired. But I didn't take it again. I just asked for ibuprofen when the pain got annoying.
The rest of the hospital stay was fine. I finally peed on my own the required three times (they won't release you till you pee three times) and my swelling finally began to go down enough they weren't freaking out. (It hadn't gone down any in the time between they tried to make me pee the first time and four hours later when I demanded they aid me in emptying my full bladder.) The baby was fine, so they released us the next day.
By five in the afternoon, forty eight hours after we'd left to go to the hospital, we were home.
While I was happy to be home, that night as I held a screaming child who refused to sleep, I wondered what the hell I was doing. I was exhausted, in tears, sore, and my ears hurt. (She can really wail.)
And I had to constantly pee.
I had read that a lot of women can't feel they have to pee after giving birth.
I felt like I had to constantly pee. For awhile, it was worst than my third trimester as I had to go every half hour. At least with the whole not sleeping thing (she seriously didn't sleep for almost twenty four hours unless one of us was holding her), it wasn't so bad. But, I did get tired of peeing as there is a huge production to going potty after giving birth.
And don't get me started on leaving the house...it was a huge ordeal and not due to the kid. It was simply me and all the crap I needed to go to the bathroom. Luckily I never had to go when we ventured out in those early days...
The other thing that was surprising was the fact I lost my ankles.
I hadn't noticed till we were home, but my feet were swollen. Like seriously swollen to the point I looked disfigured. I'd never read you get swelling AFTER giving birth. Well, in your feet. Other things I knew swelled.
I didn't fit into any of my shoes except my flip flops and even thought were too tight, as they left marks on my bloated feet.
Luckily, I didn't have to go anywhere other than the pediatrician and Wiggle Worm brought a cold spell, so I was able to wear pants that hid my feet and (lack of) ankles. It was seriously gross.
The other surprising thing?
I think I peed out most of my baby weight, as about a week after she was born I was back to only weighing eight pounds more than I did before I got pregnant. I had my waist back three days after giving birth (well, I had a waist. It is still two inches bigger than it was, but that's mostly due to the baby weight hanging out over my abs. And the fact my abs aren't back together yet). I was wearing my pre-baby jeans two weeks later and most of my shorts also fit for the most part. While most of my jeans are low rise, I clearly don't have a lot of low rise shorts. Anything that has to go up over my belly doesn't fit too well. And due to my boobs being larger than ever, none of my tops really fit still. (Stupid boobs.)
However, now that I can exercise again (it being six weeks), hopefully my shorts that are higher rise will fit in the next few months. And after I stop breastfeeding, my boobs will shrink. (I know, who wants their boobs to shrink? I do. I hate them. I've hated them since they began growing when I got pregnant.)
So, six weeks into this mother thing, what do I think?
At times I think: What the hell was I thinking?
At other times I think: OMG. She's adorable, but why won't she stop crying so I can eat/sleep/shower/potty?
Most of the time I think: I can do this. I can do this.
And evidently being a mother has calmed me down. My therapist was shocked to see how well I was put together and how clam I was there sitting in front of her. I've done a few things that I wouldn't have done before (went to OKC for the day...to an air show. Only someone forgot to put the stroller in the car, thus we wound up going to Panera. OMG, I miss civilization).
Thing surprising about my baby girl?
1. She's a super pooper. What does that mean? Well, you know how boys spray pee everywhere so they tell you to cover them whilst changing them? Yeah, so my kid does that with poop. I'm not sure how such a little body can put out so much force, but she's sprayed poop all over the walls of her room, the curtains and anything with in reach. The first time she did it my parents were here and they heard me shout, "SERIOUSLY!?"
My mom came to see what had me screaming and shouting.
She was pretty shocked to find the room near the changing table covered in orange goop.
And then my baby girl peed all over the wall.
Yeah, she sprayed pee as well. On the wall. She'd peed all over herself and the changing pad before, but never did I think she'd hit the wall. She wasn't even pointed in the direction of the wall, but she peed on the wall.
(She also projectile spit ups. I think her favorite past time is to get Mom wet.)
2. She is utterly determined to move. (Hence Wiggle Worm.) While in the womb, she did a lot of wiggling, not a lot of kicking. Hence, the Baby Earthquakes. Anyways, so she came out and she wiggled.
All the time.
She always has to have her hands free, so when we wrapped her up, she'd unwrap herself. (Then wail because she was no longer snug as a bug.) Also, when we began to put her on her back on her play mat, she would always be kicking and waving her arms. When we began putting her on her tummy she'd move her legs like she wanted to crawl, but was prevented because she failed to use her arms and her head didn't come up. She pivots around her head in a circle, powered by her super long legs.
3. My kid is all limbs.
Seriously.
She has long arms, long legs, long toes, long feet, long fingers, and a somewhat long torso. She is just freaking long.
I had no legs upon birth. I was just a torso with some feet.
And of course the hip where Wiggle Worm got stuck on the way down was on the side where the epidural wasn't working.
So, after twenty seven hours of labor (fifteen which were spent at home, three which were spent walking around the hospital without pain killers waiting to dilate to three centimeters, as they wouldn't admit me till I was fully three centimeters (I was tragically only one when I arrived after fifteen hours of suffering), and at least one was spent in heavy labor without an epidural because the bag ran out), I spent two hours trying to push my kid out and not getting anywhere because she was stuck in my right hip. (She'd come down a little and go right back.)
I honestly have no clue why anyone would not want an epidural. Because even if it didn't fully work, how the hell does anyone deal with the pain without at least some of the edge taken off. (Granted, I am a huge wimp, so maybe I'm not the best person to ask?)
After twenty seven hours of pain and suffering (and cursing even thought Pilot Boy kept chiding me when I did), I was presented with a wiggly baby with a full head of hair and a skin tone at least three times darker than my own. Pilot Boy commented, "That baby's darker than you and she'd never seen the sun."
She clearly has her father's skin and not mine. (I'd make a vampire look tan.)
Anyways, after channeling a scene out of Kill Bill that freaked out the whole room, grossed out my husband, and went unnoticed by me as I was staring at the tiny being on my chest, the room cleared out and I was left behind with a baby and a tired husband. (I slept after they'd put the epidural in, but Pilot Boy didn't.) We spent two hours alone with our new baby, marveling at her and trying not to fall asleep.
I was exhausted. I don't even want to think about how I'd felt if I'd failed to sleep a bit.
So, two hours after I'd popped out a baby with a thirteen inch round head, Pilot Boy and the baby left to go to the nursery and I had to go to the bathroom.
They make you try to go like a normal person, even though I told them I wasn't going to be able to. After my appendix was removed, I couldn't go, so why would I be able now? No matter how many times I told them this, they refused to believe me and made me try. I might have been able to, as guess what? I really had to go. But, there was this stupid thing that was supposed to measure the amount that kind of was in the way. Add on the uncomfortable toilet, and there was no way I was going to go.
And upon seeing how swollen I was down there, I can't think why they'd thought I'd be able to go on my own in the first place.
Seriously, after not seeing anything down there for four months, I was rather shocked to see it again and it looking so alien. (Even if I knew this was going to happen. I read all about it.)
After having an argument with the nurse in charge of me with whether I ought to take a percocet without eating anything for over twelve hours (I do not have a good relationship with heavy duty pain killers that you take orally. Inject it into my butt and I'm fine, but give me a pill and it is all down hill), I was left alone for about a half hour till lunch showed up.
Lunch made me want to throw up, but the ibuprofen they'd given me shortly before they kicked me out of the birthing room (because the day Wiggle Worm was born was busy, so I went to a better room) wasn't doing anything for the pain, so I forced myself to eat some of it. (Seriously, do not give greasy lasagna or anything tomato based to someone who hasn't eaten for an extended period.) The nurse returned and made me take the percocet.
I took it, only because unlike vicodin, I can take one percocet without it making me sick. She seemed to think I was making a big deal out of nothing, but I know me. I know my reactions and I had told the nurse at the doctor's office, but clearly they didn't put that in my chart or anything as they were sitting there trying to shove the very drug I said didn't agree with me down my throat.
I only took one percocet and it knocked me out for four hours. Which was fine. We were all tired. But I didn't take it again. I just asked for ibuprofen when the pain got annoying.
The rest of the hospital stay was fine. I finally peed on my own the required three times (they won't release you till you pee three times) and my swelling finally began to go down enough they weren't freaking out. (It hadn't gone down any in the time between they tried to make me pee the first time and four hours later when I demanded they aid me in emptying my full bladder.) The baby was fine, so they released us the next day.
By five in the afternoon, forty eight hours after we'd left to go to the hospital, we were home.
While I was happy to be home, that night as I held a screaming child who refused to sleep, I wondered what the hell I was doing. I was exhausted, in tears, sore, and my ears hurt. (She can really wail.)
And I had to constantly pee.
I had read that a lot of women can't feel they have to pee after giving birth.
I felt like I had to constantly pee. For awhile, it was worst than my third trimester as I had to go every half hour. At least with the whole not sleeping thing (she seriously didn't sleep for almost twenty four hours unless one of us was holding her), it wasn't so bad. But, I did get tired of peeing as there is a huge production to going potty after giving birth.
And don't get me started on leaving the house...it was a huge ordeal and not due to the kid. It was simply me and all the crap I needed to go to the bathroom. Luckily I never had to go when we ventured out in those early days...
The other thing that was surprising was the fact I lost my ankles.
I hadn't noticed till we were home, but my feet were swollen. Like seriously swollen to the point I looked disfigured. I'd never read you get swelling AFTER giving birth. Well, in your feet. Other things I knew swelled.
I didn't fit into any of my shoes except my flip flops and even thought were too tight, as they left marks on my bloated feet.
Luckily, I didn't have to go anywhere other than the pediatrician and Wiggle Worm brought a cold spell, so I was able to wear pants that hid my feet and (lack of) ankles. It was seriously gross.
The other surprising thing?
I think I peed out most of my baby weight, as about a week after she was born I was back to only weighing eight pounds more than I did before I got pregnant. I had my waist back three days after giving birth (well, I had a waist. It is still two inches bigger than it was, but that's mostly due to the baby weight hanging out over my abs. And the fact my abs aren't back together yet). I was wearing my pre-baby jeans two weeks later and most of my shorts also fit for the most part. While most of my jeans are low rise, I clearly don't have a lot of low rise shorts. Anything that has to go up over my belly doesn't fit too well. And due to my boobs being larger than ever, none of my tops really fit still. (Stupid boobs.)
However, now that I can exercise again (it being six weeks), hopefully my shorts that are higher rise will fit in the next few months. And after I stop breastfeeding, my boobs will shrink. (I know, who wants their boobs to shrink? I do. I hate them. I've hated them since they began growing when I got pregnant.)
So, six weeks into this mother thing, what do I think?
At times I think: What the hell was I thinking?
At other times I think: OMG. She's adorable, but why won't she stop crying so I can eat/sleep/shower/potty?
Most of the time I think: I can do this. I can do this.
And evidently being a mother has calmed me down. My therapist was shocked to see how well I was put together and how clam I was there sitting in front of her. I've done a few things that I wouldn't have done before (went to OKC for the day...to an air show. Only someone forgot to put the stroller in the car, thus we wound up going to Panera. OMG, I miss civilization).
Thing surprising about my baby girl?
1. She's a super pooper. What does that mean? Well, you know how boys spray pee everywhere so they tell you to cover them whilst changing them? Yeah, so my kid does that with poop. I'm not sure how such a little body can put out so much force, but she's sprayed poop all over the walls of her room, the curtains and anything with in reach. The first time she did it my parents were here and they heard me shout, "SERIOUSLY!?"
My mom came to see what had me screaming and shouting.
She was pretty shocked to find the room near the changing table covered in orange goop.
And then my baby girl peed all over the wall.
Yeah, she sprayed pee as well. On the wall. She'd peed all over herself and the changing pad before, but never did I think she'd hit the wall. She wasn't even pointed in the direction of the wall, but she peed on the wall.
(She also projectile spit ups. I think her favorite past time is to get Mom wet.)
2. She is utterly determined to move. (Hence Wiggle Worm.) While in the womb, she did a lot of wiggling, not a lot of kicking. Hence, the Baby Earthquakes. Anyways, so she came out and she wiggled.
All the time.
She always has to have her hands free, so when we wrapped her up, she'd unwrap herself. (Then wail because she was no longer snug as a bug.) Also, when we began to put her on her back on her play mat, she would always be kicking and waving her arms. When we began putting her on her tummy she'd move her legs like she wanted to crawl, but was prevented because she failed to use her arms and her head didn't come up. She pivots around her head in a circle, powered by her super long legs.
3. My kid is all limbs.
Seriously.
She has long arms, long legs, long toes, long feet, long fingers, and a somewhat long torso. She is just freaking long.
I had no legs upon birth. I was just a torso with some feet.
28 May 2014
Sweet and Salty Cookies
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| Carmel Sea Salt & Chocolate Chip Cookies |
So, of course I bought them.
And they sat in my cabinet for over a month. How do I know it was more than a month? Well, my daughter is four weeks old and I bought them before she was born. Thus, I've had them for over a month.
So, since I feel like a normal person (kind of) once more, I thought I'd bake some cookies. Whilst my parental units were in town for two weeks, I made cookies, but I didn't use the carmel bits. Since I'm venturing out to be social with people my own age on Friday (and giving Basil Bea a much needed dog play date), I figured I'd try my all time fav cookie recipe and throw the carmel bits in instead of the dark chocolate chips.
Now, for YEARS I've tried every single chocolate chip cookie recipe I've run across. And they all pretty much taste the same to me and usually are kind of a let down after they are no longer fresh from the oven. Well, after we moved into the house and I had a kitchen once more (well, mostly I had all my baking stuff back, as I had a kitchen whilst living in San Antonio, but I digress...), I pulled out the newest recipe I wished to try: Brown Butter & Sea Salt Chocolate Chip Cookies.
I was a little leery of the recipe for two reasons: brown butter and the whole two hours in the fridge.
I mean, what the heck is brown butter?
It's melted butter that's brown and kind of nutty. Does it make a difference in recipes?
Yeah. Trust me.
I think the first time I made them I threw them in the fridge for two hours like the recipe called for, but I didn't really brown the butter properly, but they were still good. (I did not successfully brown butter till I made those doughnuts.) Out of the two recipes I tried out that week, Pilot Boy like the Brown Butter and Sea Salt cookies best.
One would think because we both liked them, this recipe would be my to go. Nope. Why?
The whole putting it in the fridge and brown butter. (Also, it calls for a tablespoon of greek yogurt, which I don't usually have on hand since I made myself sick of it by eating it for a year straight for a meal during my Greek Yogurt Diet phase.)
HOWEVER, in looking for a recipe to make cookies with my carmel bits, I decided to go with this one since it called for sea salt.
And let me tell you, THEY ROCK.
So, here's my adapted recipe if you care:
26 April 2014
Sweet Stuffs
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Throughout my pregnancy, I've not had "cravings" in the typical sense. Yeah, I'll randomly want something, usually Arby's, but that happened to me before I got knocked up. Usually around that time of the months...and it was usually chocolate.I am a sugar addict. I'm completely and utterly addicted to sugary items. Most of the things I've "craved" have sugar. Are are made mostly out of sugar. So, I've actually done quite a bit of baking. Recently, I've wanted doughnuts.
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However, I thought: there must be a healthier way to eat a doughnut, right?
Then I remembered: Baked doughnuts.
I'd need a doughnut pan. I didn't have one, hence why I'd never tried it before. So, I logged onto Amazon, used the last of my credit card reward points and happily bought two doughnut pans and a doughnut cutter for when I decided I'd like to tackle yeast doughnuts myself.
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I also got a cookbook all about doughnuts: Doughnuts: Simple and Delicious Recipes to Make at Home.
So, I was amped up to make doughnuts.
Then I read the cookbook.
It called for things I'd a) never find in the tiny town I live in (I can't even find white whole wheat flour, people) and b) whole milk (that I can find easily now that I know it's not called whole milk, but vitamin D milk).
Also, the recipes all made way too many doughnuts for me to eat alone, so I took to my old fall back: Pinterest.
That's where I found the recipe I decided to use. Reasons I decided to use it: a) it didn't call for any special flour; b) it didn't call for any special type of sugar; c) it claimed to make only 10 doughnuts; and d) it didn't call for whole milk except in the glaze, which I figured I could fudge with skim.
So, I made these doughnuts.
They were good.
They were actually really easy to make.
Pilot Boy came home and announced, "Wow, these are good!"
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I did learn a few things the first time I made them.1. Use actual buttermilk. I've never actually bought buttermilk before, but since I was going to the store to get real butter for these babies (the fake stuff doesn't brown as nice, tragically) I decided I'd get some buttermilk. And man, they taste better with the real thing as opposed to when you milk the milk you have with vinegar. (or maybe I'm just mental, I'm not sure)
2. Don't make the glaze in a pie plate. Also, cut the glaze recipe in half.
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The second time I made doughnuts, I wanted to make non-chocolate cake ones. I went with the other recipe on posted on Joy the Baker: Brown Butter Doughnuts.
They were not as good as the chocolate and I doubt I'll make them again. I'm not sure what went wrong, as once more I followed the directions and didn't do my own thing, but they were chewy and tasted horrid. I also made a batch of chocolate ones and froze the dough I didn't use (will I ever use it? I don't know. More than likely not, but I was tried and didn't feel like making more doughnuts.) The Brown Butter Doughnuts recipes claims to make six, but I got almost eight, thus why I began the chocolate ones when I wasn't going to, but then I did.
Anyways, I can vouch the chocolate baked doughnuts are awesome.
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The other thing I've recently been making often is cookie dough balls. Frozen cookie dough balls. I like these because they are sugar, chocolate, and cold. And they are small so you don't feel like you're eating a whole bunch when you chow down on four or five of the tiny balls. I cut the recipe in half, as I don't have room in my freezer for a full batch. They are really good on a hot day.18 April 2014
The Homestretch
One week till my due date.
My bag is packed and I'm ready to go.
And I'm showing now signs of labor. I'm still, as the doctor put it, closed up tight.
Bah.
I'm ready for this baby. Well, as much as I can be. I've got everything ready to go for her, I just need the actual baby. As I said recently, I'm ready for the next step. I'm ready to meet the kid who keeps kicking me from the inside even though I know it's hard for her as there's not much room for her. (Pilot Boy keeps looking at my belly and wondering how a 18 inch long baby is supposed to fit in there. She is a contortionist. Duh.)
Other than the constant peeing, the inability to get comfortable, the constant being overly hot, the swollen feet, and the curious happenings of my digestive track, I'm just peachy.
Okay, I lie. I'm so ready to not be pregnant. I've been warned it'll be at least three months till I feel like my old self again, but hell, I'm just looking forward to not randomly falling over, being able to stand at the counter, and not peeing constantly. (I'd also like to be able to sleep for more than 45 minutes, but I'm not totally mental. I know babies don't allow for much sleep. At least they get you ready for it by pressing on your bladder with their heads for the final four weeks of pregnancy!)
When I first found out I was pregnant, I kept thinking, "Oh god. I'm not ready for this. Oh god."
I kept repeating that over and over and over till about a month ago when I was like, "Okay. I'm ready. Now, come out!"
She's not listening. (I never thought she would. My own dog won't listen to me, why would my own kid.)
It's also the strangest thing to be sitting around waiting for something to happen that you know has to happen, yet you have no clue when it'll happen. It's hard to plan anything, as you NEVER know when you MIGHT just RANDOMLY go into labor. (Also, relatives want to make plans to visit, yet I don't want to be overwhelmed as I know myself well enough to know I won't be able to handle anyone other than Pilot Boy and my mother for the first few weeks. I think I've finally managed to convince people of this, so they've given me a month.)
I've made a birth announcement as well. All I have to do is add a photo and the unknown information (weight, length (or wing span as Pilot Boy insists), and the date and time of birth).
Well, my hips hurt from sitting here for too long, so I'm going to end this post and move to another location.
My bag is packed and I'm ready to go.
And I'm showing now signs of labor. I'm still, as the doctor put it, closed up tight.
Bah.
I'm ready for this baby. Well, as much as I can be. I've got everything ready to go for her, I just need the actual baby. As I said recently, I'm ready for the next step. I'm ready to meet the kid who keeps kicking me from the inside even though I know it's hard for her as there's not much room for her. (Pilot Boy keeps looking at my belly and wondering how a 18 inch long baby is supposed to fit in there. She is a contortionist. Duh.)
Other than the constant peeing, the inability to get comfortable, the constant being overly hot, the swollen feet, and the curious happenings of my digestive track, I'm just peachy.
Okay, I lie. I'm so ready to not be pregnant. I've been warned it'll be at least three months till I feel like my old self again, but hell, I'm just looking forward to not randomly falling over, being able to stand at the counter, and not peeing constantly. (I'd also like to be able to sleep for more than 45 minutes, but I'm not totally mental. I know babies don't allow for much sleep. At least they get you ready for it by pressing on your bladder with their heads for the final four weeks of pregnancy!)
When I first found out I was pregnant, I kept thinking, "Oh god. I'm not ready for this. Oh god."
I kept repeating that over and over and over till about a month ago when I was like, "Okay. I'm ready. Now, come out!"
She's not listening. (I never thought she would. My own dog won't listen to me, why would my own kid.)
It's also the strangest thing to be sitting around waiting for something to happen that you know has to happen, yet you have no clue when it'll happen. It's hard to plan anything, as you NEVER know when you MIGHT just RANDOMLY go into labor. (Also, relatives want to make plans to visit, yet I don't want to be overwhelmed as I know myself well enough to know I won't be able to handle anyone other than Pilot Boy and my mother for the first few weeks. I think I've finally managed to convince people of this, so they've given me a month.)
I've made a birth announcement as well. All I have to do is add a photo and the unknown information (weight, length (or wing span as Pilot Boy insists), and the date and time of birth).
Well, my hips hurt from sitting here for too long, so I'm going to end this post and move to another location.
02 April 2014
A Quest for Salsa
You'd think it wouldn't be hard to find salsa, but it is. Trust me.
Before I met Pilot Boy, I had no desire to eat salsa. I hated hot foods and thus never ventured near the salsa bowl or a Mexican restaurant. This all changed when Pilot Boy waltzed into my life because the boy lives to fry his tongue and Mexican food is his all time fav.
Whilst dating, there was this Mexican restaurant in West Lafayette, Indiana he liked and we went to quite often. The joint always brought two different salsas, one mild, one hot. This worked well for the pair of us, as Pilot Boy likes to burn his tongue and I'd rather keep my taste buds.
During our time in Fairview Heights, IL, there was this perfect Mexican restaurant right near our apartment complex and we spent almost every Friday night (or when we failed to want to make dinner) eating at this place. They also had good salsa.
Then, we moved to the Dirt Hole.
You'd think that living on the Texas boarder, you'd find GREAT Mexican food and salsa would be easy to get.
LIES. ALL LIES.
To date, the best Mexican food I've consumed has been within the state of Indiana. And the best salsa I've eaten came out of my kitchen.
Yeah, you read that right: I make my own salsa.
While we were living in Texas, there were store bought salsas that were okay. In Texas, there were so many available I don't think we ever got the same one twice. Then we moved to Alaska where they had no idea about salsa, let alone chips.
Oklahoma isn't much better. The lone okay Mexican restaurant in town doesn't actually give you chips and salsa with your order, as they don't have a table. They are a drive through restaurant. (Their food is really good, though. Likely the best in town.)
I'd been tooling around Pinterst for awhile, looking at salsa recipes. I'd gotten a new blender as a house warming present from my parents. It claimed it worked as a food processor as well (hence why I got it). Finally, after going through every, single salsa our tiny town shops had to offer, I decided I'd just make my own. So, I bought all the stuff and made it.
It was 1,000 times better than any of the jars we had in our fridge rotting away because they sucked.
(I was also over zealous the first time I made salsa and also made my own chips, which were really good, but labor intensive.)
Anyways, I've made the recipe a few times. (Oh, find it here: Quick and Easy Blender Salsa.)
The first time I made it, I had no ground cumin, so I put in chipotle powder. I also had gotten the Rotel diced tomatoes with green chiles in them, not the plain ones.
The second time I made it, I only used half a can of diced tomatoes and it came out looking brown. (It tasted fine, it just wasn't very red.)
The third time, Pilot Boy made it by just dumping in what I could remember. I forgot the honey and he failed to listen to me when I told him he was over blending. We also didn't have any fresh cilantro, as the cilantro we had had gone all slimy.
We threw that one out.
The last batch I made, I pretty much followed the recipe, only I used paprika. I also failed to put enough salt in and didn't have a fresh lime.
HOWEVER, since I made the batch, I've been adding a little more salt and some Bold Taco Seasoning by Penzey. And a bit more lime juice, as I don't think Pilot Boy put enough in. (He didn't seem to think we needed a full tablespoon to compensate for lack of fresh lime.)
It is heavenly.
So, here is the recipe tweaked from the original one: (Once more found here: Quick and Easy Blender Salsa)
What you need:
1 can of 14-oz canned diced tomatoes
(drain a bit of the water out unless you like watery salsa)
1 can of 10-oz Rotel Mild (with green chilies)
Some roughy chopped onion.
(Roughly chopped is the key, as you're putting it in the blender. I'd say add as much onion as you like. I hate onions, so I put maybe 1/4 of a red onion in.)
1 clove of garlic.
(PEEL IT. DO NOT CHOP IT UP EITHER. If you do not have an actual clove, put the equivalent of the powder stuff or whatever you've got in the garlic department. First time I used minced garlic, a heaping 1/2 tablespoon.)
1 teaspoon of honey
1/2 teaspoon of salt, plus extra if you feel you need it.
1/4 teaspoon ground chipotle or 1/2 Penzey Bold Taco Seasoning plus 1/4 paprika
Juice of one lime
(Or put a tablespoon or two of lime concentrate.)
Directions:
1. Gather all ingredients.
2. Chop your onion. Roughly.
3. Peel your garlic clove. (If you have one.)
4. Open your cans of tomatoes.
5. Dump everything into the blender.
6. Plug the blender in. (Very important.) Turn blender on. (Also muy importante.) Blend on high for 10 seconds, or low for 30. Do not over blend or you'll liquify it.
7. Put it in a jar or whatever you wish to store your freshly made salsa within.
8. Enjoy. (I figure it keeps for maybe a week. Only one jar we've made, the first, made it passed a week and looked kind of funky after a week in a half of living in the fridge.)
Now, I know these food/recipe posts usually have photos to go along with them, but I don't have photos of me making salsa at the moment. However, I wanted to write this down before I forgot. Or had a baby and thus was busy bonding with said baby.
Before I met Pilot Boy, I had no desire to eat salsa. I hated hot foods and thus never ventured near the salsa bowl or a Mexican restaurant. This all changed when Pilot Boy waltzed into my life because the boy lives to fry his tongue and Mexican food is his all time fav.
Whilst dating, there was this Mexican restaurant in West Lafayette, Indiana he liked and we went to quite often. The joint always brought two different salsas, one mild, one hot. This worked well for the pair of us, as Pilot Boy likes to burn his tongue and I'd rather keep my taste buds.
During our time in Fairview Heights, IL, there was this perfect Mexican restaurant right near our apartment complex and we spent almost every Friday night (or when we failed to want to make dinner) eating at this place. They also had good salsa.
Then, we moved to the Dirt Hole.
You'd think that living on the Texas boarder, you'd find GREAT Mexican food and salsa would be easy to get.
LIES. ALL LIES.
To date, the best Mexican food I've consumed has been within the state of Indiana. And the best salsa I've eaten came out of my kitchen.
Yeah, you read that right: I make my own salsa.
While we were living in Texas, there were store bought salsas that were okay. In Texas, there were so many available I don't think we ever got the same one twice. Then we moved to Alaska where they had no idea about salsa, let alone chips.
Oklahoma isn't much better. The lone okay Mexican restaurant in town doesn't actually give you chips and salsa with your order, as they don't have a table. They are a drive through restaurant. (Their food is really good, though. Likely the best in town.)
I'd been tooling around Pinterst for awhile, looking at salsa recipes. I'd gotten a new blender as a house warming present from my parents. It claimed it worked as a food processor as well (hence why I got it). Finally, after going through every, single salsa our tiny town shops had to offer, I decided I'd just make my own. So, I bought all the stuff and made it.
It was 1,000 times better than any of the jars we had in our fridge rotting away because they sucked.
(I was also over zealous the first time I made salsa and also made my own chips, which were really good, but labor intensive.)
Anyways, I've made the recipe a few times. (Oh, find it here: Quick and Easy Blender Salsa.)
The first time I made it, I had no ground cumin, so I put in chipotle powder. I also had gotten the Rotel diced tomatoes with green chiles in them, not the plain ones.
The second time I made it, I only used half a can of diced tomatoes and it came out looking brown. (It tasted fine, it just wasn't very red.)
The third time, Pilot Boy made it by just dumping in what I could remember. I forgot the honey and he failed to listen to me when I told him he was over blending. We also didn't have any fresh cilantro, as the cilantro we had had gone all slimy.
We threw that one out.
The last batch I made, I pretty much followed the recipe, only I used paprika. I also failed to put enough salt in and didn't have a fresh lime.
HOWEVER, since I made the batch, I've been adding a little more salt and some Bold Taco Seasoning by Penzey. And a bit more lime juice, as I don't think Pilot Boy put enough in. (He didn't seem to think we needed a full tablespoon to compensate for lack of fresh lime.)
It is heavenly.
So, here is the recipe tweaked from the original one: (Once more found here: Quick and Easy Blender Salsa)
What you need:
1 can of 14-oz canned diced tomatoes
(drain a bit of the water out unless you like watery salsa)
1 can of 10-oz Rotel Mild (with green chilies)
Some roughy chopped onion.
(Roughly chopped is the key, as you're putting it in the blender. I'd say add as much onion as you like. I hate onions, so I put maybe 1/4 of a red onion in.)
1 clove of garlic.
(PEEL IT. DO NOT CHOP IT UP EITHER. If you do not have an actual clove, put the equivalent of the powder stuff or whatever you've got in the garlic department. First time I used minced garlic, a heaping 1/2 tablespoon.)
1 teaspoon of honey
1/2 teaspoon of salt, plus extra if you feel you need it.
1/4 teaspoon ground chipotle or 1/2 Penzey Bold Taco Seasoning plus 1/4 paprika
Juice of one lime
(Or put a tablespoon or two of lime concentrate.)
Directions:
1. Gather all ingredients.
2. Chop your onion. Roughly.
3. Peel your garlic clove. (If you have one.)
4. Open your cans of tomatoes.
5. Dump everything into the blender.
6. Plug the blender in. (Very important.) Turn blender on. (Also muy importante.) Blend on high for 10 seconds, or low for 30. Do not over blend or you'll liquify it.
7. Put it in a jar or whatever you wish to store your freshly made salsa within.
8. Enjoy. (I figure it keeps for maybe a week. Only one jar we've made, the first, made it passed a week and looked kind of funky after a week in a half of living in the fridge.)
Now, I know these food/recipe posts usually have photos to go along with them, but I don't have photos of me making salsa at the moment. However, I wanted to write this down before I forgot. Or had a baby and thus was busy bonding with said baby.
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