Raw30: Day 9

Today was a salad day! I ended up eating three salads today, along with finishing the first blueberry pie this morning. You see, today's non-cooking endeavor was a Caesar salad dressing. While it didn't come out really tasting like a Caesar dressing, it DID come out tasting amazing! So I can forgive it for not living up to its name.

This is probably going to become a staple for us. I've had trouble eating big, leafy salads lately because... well, heck, what can I dress them with? Caesar has been my favorite for years, with Ranch behind that, and neither one of those is considered a "raw" condiment. Not to mention that Baby Beast's dairy allergy kind of prevents me eating any dressing with milk or cheese in it.

But with this new dressing, I can see enjoying salads again! I'm excited about it, because I DO like well-made salads (and that means more than lettuce-and-tomatoes). I think they're exciting when done correctly, and can actually be really delightful to eat.

Today I threw a lot of sprouts onto my salad. I needed to use of the last of the mung bean sprouts before they began to mushing process (i.e. when you look in the fridge and go "EEEYUCH!" and are afraid to even touch the container the food item is in to throw it away). So I threw those onto the baby spinach-romaine-butter head lettuce that I had going. Then I threw a handful or two of the lentil sprouts we have.

I needed spouted lentils for a recipe... but I only needed 1/4 cup. I made... like... four cups. So. We have lentil sprouts. Boy, do we. I could probably put 'em in soil and have lentil plants. Many of them.

After adding some tomatoes and chives to the salad, I tossed the dressing on (note for the next time I make it: it needs to be runnier. salad dressing should not land in clumps) and dug in. Obviously, it was good... I mean, hello, three salads.


It may be lumpy, but it's darn good Caesar dressing.

I DID give in and have some chicken on one of the salads... but I don't feel truly shamed by it. I have really wanted some animal protein, so now I've had some. If it improves my breastmilk for the Baby Beast, I consider it a win-win situation. Really, one salad with 1 cup of chicken after nine days of raw food? I have trouble thinking I'm a failure. Especially since I've felt SO stressed lately, worrying if I was making enough breastmilk. Having had a bit of chicken, I feel slightly comforted, and can stop turning into a little ball of tension.

The Husbeast and I went out bowling tonight with some of his co-workers. I got to know the gutter really well. And I threw the ball BEHIND me once, but it didn't hit anyone, so no worries! But it was wonderful getting to go out and hang out with people who're verbal (because I love my Baby Beast, but he has yet to manage a truly intelligible conversation, although he can sign "nurse" and "all done" and "change" when his diaper needs changing).

What will I make tomorrow? I honestly have no idea, but I bet it'll be yummy.

Communication

The BabyBeast is beginning to make recognizable sounds, other than "mama" and "dada." He's also mastered at least one American Sign Language sign (not surprisingly, it's the sign for 'milk,' which we use as our sign for 'nurse'). And, by the way, signing with your baby is a great way to bridge the gap between coos and gurgles and actual words. Do a little research and see where you can implement it in your own life.

A couple of days ago, he was after something he wasn't meant to have, so I shook my head and told him gently, "No, not for baby." which is my usual routine. He stared at me for a second, then shook his head at me and said, "Nuh." Either he was mimicking me (which would be fine), he was verifying that I did mean what I said (which would be fine), or he was telling ME 'no' (danger, will robinson! danger! danger!). The jury is still out on that one.

This morning, I asked him where his grandma was, and he stopped to think about it for a second, said, "Ahmuh" (sound it out - it lacks only the hard 'g' sound) and took off crawling towards the kitchen where she normally perches with coffee cup in one hand and computer mouse in the other (she likes her internet games, that woman).

It amazes me to see this tiny person growing and developing every day. It reminds me constantly that he's not 'my baby,' he's his own person (a very Montessori ideal). I shouldn't treat him like my property, because he isn't - I'm borrowing him in his youth, to teach him what he needs to know when he's a man.