Making Memories

Filled the car with picnic bits, a bucket and spade and the kiddies & headed off to Wales at 9:30 this morning. Karl spent most of the way there moaning that the traffic would be horrendous on the way back but I say it’s worth it for the memories: the sandcastles, ice creams on the beach (or not in my case), paddling in the warm waters but mostly just the look on Isabel’s face when she realised we weren’t just going to the park.

And the traffic was OK too :)

Dairy free pizza and other baking bits

Further to my last dairy free post, where you’ll remember I moaned that everything contains dairy, I set about creating a meal plan for the week (having seriously lost my mojo with the whole planning thing since going dairy free) and hit a bit of a stumbling block when I realised that both of my usual pizza dough recipes contain milk. I’ve not yet figured out if it’s safe to replace milk with water in most recipes or indeed which of the fake milks are stable enough for baking – I can’t help but feel it’s easier to just avoid the typical dairy things altogether.

Anyway, pizza. We have homemade pizza most weeks so had a bit of a googley for a new recipe and found a good one that is so easy — ridiculously simple — I made Karl make it. Look at his hairy hands:

karl-kneading-dough

This one is for you if you want dairy free pizza (we’ll get to the dilemma of the toppings shortly) or if you don’t know how to make pizza dough. Of course in hindsight it’s a basic bread recipe and I’ve not the foggiest why I’ve not done similar before given that I make bread fairly frequently. Mega props to Elaine from Mortgage Free in Three for her idea of using a terracotta plant pot saucer as a bread / pizza stone – mine was cooked to perfection.

While on the bakingmad site I found a bunch of other recipes for kids including a pretzel one which I’m thinking of making with Izz as she loves helping me and I love pretzels. Win win. (I really should post some of the baking adventures we get up to.)

Anyway, back to the pizza: the big issue was not the pizza dough but the toppings. How on earth do you make something worthy of being called a pizza without the cheese? General twitter consensus was that this is a futile task but I’m up for the challenge. Ended up with very thinly sliced potatoes, courgettes and a drizzle of olive oil; I am sure I read this suggestion on a food blog somewhere. It was fairly pants as pizzas go. Topping suggestions on a postcard…

Food, Fussiness and Intolerances

I read a post on Frugal Queen‘s blog last month where she answered reader’s questions. One question asked how she kept everyone in the family happy when there were lots of mouths to feed. FQ’s response was typical “it’s not happened to me so it must not be real” ignorant nonsense:

If you have fussy kids, who are faddy eaters,then shame on you the parent as you’ve brought them up to be like that, and you’ve pandered to them.

I tried to respond to the post saying it was bullshit and either blogspot ate it or it was moderated; either way it didn’t go through.

Oh, I’d have probably said the same thing before I had Isabel. Or indeed for the first couple of years when she ate everything that was put in front of her. Gradually, though, the food fussing has snuck in. Not liking mushrooms, courgettes, aubergine. Only eating mash if it’s got gravy on it. Liking broccoli but not purple sprouting broccoli. Liking green apples but not red ones, but only on certain days of the week. Eating cabbage at nursery but not at home. This is just a snapshot, the list is fairly intensive – I’m sure you get the point.

According to FQ this is my fault. I’m not serving enough “cottage pie, stew and dumplings, fishy pie, pasties, quiche, curry, soup, home made bread and cakes”. Obviously she’s not seen my meal plans

This is a kid who, when presented with her lunch and homemade chocolate cake pudding, chose the lunch over the pudding (because she had peas! We love peas!) Who, at the beginning of the month when we met up at my mum’s to celebrate my brother’s birthday, ate 5 large serving spoonfuls of peas and carrots and then asked for ice cream instead of cake for pudding so that she could mix her remaining peas in. She’s not fussy because I’ve fed her junk food (this is a kid who’s only had Haribo once in her life), she just has a long list of foods she doesn’t like.

It reinforces something I’ve discovered about parenting: you can sit on your high horse smug that you’re doing the right thing but until you’ve directly experienced something chances are you’re one step away from being knocked off & made to look a fool. Which brings me nicely to me next point: I’m just as big an ignorant fool.

I’ve always assumed that food intolerances are very much a middle class thing. Up there with fussiness, intolerances don’t happen to kids who have little choice over what they eat. Which is probably why, blinded by my own ignorance, I’ve attributed over 9 months of grumpy, windy, sicky, fussy Oliver to everything other than an intolerance. He has a cold, he’s teething, another cold, over-tired, over-stimulated, not napped well enough, more teeth (he does have 8 of the bloody things!) etc.

Except it turns out, that when I keep a close eye on what I’m eating I see a pattern emerging. The day I had pudding made with a lot of evaporated milk? Up all night screaming. The day after when I had leftover evaporated milk in my coffee all day? Up all night screaming. The next day when I was too busy to make a coffee and had no dairy? Slept fine. Last night, when we had pizza thick with cheese? Hours of screaming.

I don’t eat or drink a lot of dairy which is probably why day-to-day little symptoms go unnoticed, and it’s only when I eat more that it’s obvious something is amiss. So while I sit here waiting for the health visitor to ring so I can talk to her about cow’s milk protein intolerance, thinking over the prospect of an immediate future with no ice cream, I can’t help but think there’s a lesson to be learned. Something about being a know-it-all?

Not me, of course. I really do know everything. ;)

Best Friends

When I was pregnant with Oliver, I was a little worried about how Isabel would take to a new sibling. She was – still is – very attached as a child and I thought that having to share me, especially after she weaned unexpectedly during my pregnancy, would be really hard on her. (I’ve probably mentioned this before; I struggle to remember my own name some days.)

Anyway, despite my fears, Isabel and Oliver have got on well right from the start. I have some lovely photos of her cradling him as a baby, and memories of her rushing to soothe him if he so much as murmured. I couldn’t have asked for them to hit it off better.

And yet somehow, despite this, this past couple of weeks they’ve become even closer. I don’t know whether it’s Oliver’s mobility and desire to get into everything Izz is doing, or just the sheer joy he gets from being around her, but they’ve become virtually inseparable. He’s the first thing she mentions when she wakes, she follows him round and helps him reach things, she talks about him at nursery and cuddles him if he “bumps his noggin’”.

teaching Oliver to swim

teaching Oliver to swim

I don’t know what I did right (assuming this was anything to do with me at all, probably not!) but long may it continue, because watching this brother-sister relationship blossom is one of the best parts of my day.

Baby-Proofing

I’ve been thinking about baby-proofing recently, as Oliver is showing signs of trying to crawl. @dark_eyed_white‘s tweet on a similar vein got me pondering on the subject again and inspired me to waffle a bit about ‘baby-proofing’.

Thinking back, I remember not being too fussed about baby-proofing with Isabel. That’s not to say we deliberately left sharp or hot things within reach — that would be stupid — but we didn’t go out of our way to remove things from her environment or wrap them in bubble-wrap.

I like to think that if you expose kids to things early enough, they lose their appeal and so don’t become “something to play with” because of the novelty factor. Case in point: my laptop has been within reach of Izz every day since she was born. She’s never damaged it or mashed the buttons. She did accidentally drop a toy on it once, but that was my fault for juggling both of them (‘them’ .. like the Vostro is a person, ha) at once.

However, given that Oliver has managed to disprove all of my genius parenting theories thus far by being the complete opposite of his sister, I’m a wee bit concerned that if we take this lazy, laissez faire approach to baby-proofing a second time round there could have disastrous consequences. I already spot things dotted about (small coins, Lego) and see choking disasters waiting to happen; dangly cables too low to be any risk to a walking preschooler but at head height for a crawling babe; etc.

The boy isn’t daft… I mean, it only took a couple of times of rolling too swiftly on our hard floor for him too figure out how to tuck his head in so it doesn’t go thud. I just have this sneaky feeling he’s going to keep me on my toes.