No snacking while nursing, and other tales of a burnt-out 'good enough' mama.

I have mixed emotions about nursing these days with adrenal burnout.*

I worked so hard to nurse with Finn. I didn't give birth in the hospital so I didn't have one of those awesome lactation consultants until I sought one out. He didn't return to birth weight for 4+ weeks --and wasn't able to suck efficiently until he was three months.  For three weeks, I was oblivious as he sucked but couldn't manage to get out the milk.

 Until his little body and brain figured it out (which happened miraculously one day just as the lactation consultant promised), I literally nursed and pumped for most of the day and night (literally). First, I would nurse, weighing baby Finn on a rented gram-sensitive scale before and after to see how much milk he actually got.  Then I used a hospital grade breast pump to squeeze out what he didn't manage to suck, and finally, I fed him the pumped bottle. About 40 minutes later I started the process again.

The pediatrician (we went through 3 or 4) wanted me to switch to formula, so the weighing and measuring part was to prove to the doc that Finn was getting what he needed in milk. I'm exhausted just thinking about it! On top of it all, he had infant reflux or GERD and was in pain a lot of the time. I did everything possible to try to help him-- elimination diets, natural therapies, medical therapies, etc. He had surgery at 9 months for an inguinal hernia which seemed to solve all of his problems. I went back to work when Finn was 8 months and because of the shaky nursing start we had, my milk supply was on the edge the whole time. It really started to dwindle when I went back to teaching. I pumped every 2 hours at work while sitting on the cold, cement floor of the bathroom. At 15 months we naturally weaned and I was grateful to have made it that far.

Bobo on the other hand, sucked like a champ from the start and he's still going strong at 20 months. He also has food sensitivities and had colicky symptoms (read: barely any sleep ) that I've worked on like crazy. But he's not a sweet little nursling like his big brother; breastfeeding B has always been like an athletic event. He twists and pinches and kicks. He grabs a cracker and heads over to my lap for a drink (picture his big blue eyes...a few sips and then a bite). I must have my shirt completely lifted. If his big brother is up on my lap for a cuddle, little B insists that he must nurse NOW and then pushes his way in. 

Obviously, I had to set up some boundaries with this one. 

First off, No Snacking While Nursing. I've been bitten, and it hurts. Plus, no crumbs on my breasts, please. Second: I'm sure the 'don't offer, dont refuse' system has worked for some moms out there, but not me. Don't refuse? If this sweet little toddler had his way I'd be shirtless and available for a quick nip at any minute. Not happening.

The adrenal burnout was a long time coming for me. As you can probably tell by the way I'm describing all of this, I'm a bit of a hard worker. Must. Do. My. Best. I once had a therapist who said to me when we were discussing the anxiety I was having about working so much, "what if you were just 'good enough'?" at the time I was shocked by how uncomfortable that was for me. I couldn't imagine letting myself get off that easy, or settling for mediocrity. 

*sigh*

Now I have been forced into accepting my own mediocrity. My new motto is 'just enough effort'. It's not that I was awesome at everything before (certainly not), but there's just so much I want to do!...climb mountains, bike, run, cook every night, make everything I see on pinterest...and I basically can't do any of it. 

I am on a path to heal which could take quite a while, but I am grateful to have the opportunity to unlearn my patterns of stress and to see what happens. I just know that it's got to be good.

As for nursing? I'm just going to see how that goes too....and take it easy on myself. I think that will make me a 'good enough' mama.

* I know that I haven't explained this adrenal burnout thing yet....basically, my adrenals have been taxed for 30+ years from allergies (caused by a compromised gut lining) and stress-- which is a vicious cycle. Now they don't work properly, which in turn has messed up my hormones and minerals. Healing takes a while-- but it will happen!

Finn is Four. and where am I?

I can, indeed, believe that it's been a month since I've visited the good life here in cyberworld. I've been an on an unintentional hiatus, otherwise consumed with the good life off-screen, engaged in activities like finding mold in our rental and staying temporarily at our in-laws. Yes, mold. yuck. A couple of dear family members have passed away after tough battles with the big 'C'.

I was diagnosed with complete 'adrenal burnout' and told to stop running (not that I was doing much of that) and to start lying down flat as much as possible during the day! Ha! (It feels reeeallly good to do it...but nearly impossible to do more than once a day with two crazy boys). I'm supposed to pretend I'm on perpetual vacation, stop eating all fruit and forms of sugar, eat meat at every meal, and re-mineralize myself. More on that later.

In the middle of it all, my sweet little bull, Finn, turned four! I can hardly believe it. He's still challenging as ever, but also hilarious. Here are some moments I did manage to capture....

 Fish cake-- Finn's choice. Template from Martha. I've never made a meringue butter-cream before and also never used turmeric to dye frosting-- so that was super fun. The cake is my tried and tested Vanilla bean cake  (grain free) from Kelly at The Spunky Coconut.

He had a bit of "Too Much Birthday" (Berenstein Bears reference)-- The poor guy was exhausted.

Finn's 95 year old great-grandmother (J's grandma) and his second cousin made it!

My cousin's lovely children showing off their party tattoos.

After a few good nights' sleep, Finn was back in action....(after 10 REALLY tough days!).

 Four just sounds too old. I had such a good cuddle with him tonight before bed. He was cracking me up talking about his 'bones'....pointing to various parts of his body, "This is a bone, right here. Elbow?! That's not a bone!"...etc. Too cute. It's so fun to see him learning this stuff and being thoroughly fascinated by it.

Outside, please.

Sleepy, rainy days

Little boys, trucks and sand.

open land of green, bumpy grass to ride

glider bikes, scooters and even a kite.

wind and skies painted with patterns of clouds

daffodils up, lilacs pending

laughter brings lightness.

Tired boy admires bobcat. (his finger was shut in his brother's door an hour earlier!)

Finn has a new best buddy. So cute!

Love Fest

I know, Valentine's Day is over and done with, but I was holding out  until I could find time to take photos of my raw cacao yummy Valentine's treats. Guess what? We ate them all. That gives me an excuse to make more next week so that I can post the recipes. (They're decadent & healthy, I swear!).

Finn's abstract hearts. He loves to mix colors!

I've always thought V day was a bit of a joke, but now that I have two little ones around, I LOVE it. Seriously. How fun is it to talk about love? And I'm also serious about how much I  love making hearts and valentine's. And now I love origami too. Check out those sweet love boats! I followed a video to make the boat with two sails and I kept laughing...thinking about that Little Caesar's commercial from when I was a kid: "..A Pterodactyl!" Anyone remember?

J made the one on the right for me. Finn made the little heart stamps with a toilet paper roll 
dipped in paint. We went nuts with the Target dollar bin alphabet stickers for all of
his little preschool buddies.

More Love: We are having a good week over here in boy land. Finn has been loving his brother more than not, which is a bonus for everyone. There have been so many adorable brother hugs, but I can't seem to pull out my camera to catch one in time.

 

And Bobolicious is just delicious. The sweatshirt in the photo below cracks me up (a gift from Desi when Finn was a babe). I never dress B in it because I feel too badly, but Jason put him in it the other day. These boys fight over my lap space and I usually have the little one attached to my breast while the big one twirls my hair in the morning. Of course it is so sweet and precious if they're not pushing each other and whining....And if I'm finding enough time for my own personal space! Hell, I'm not complaining. 

There's lots of love going around. 

I hope you're feeling some love these days too.

P.S. Here's the commercial... Enjoy! xo

Scootin' to happiness.

Oh my. It has been a rough couple of weeks. The joyful three year old you see pictured above is not always so joyful. J has been working nonstop and although I have always known that I need time alone, never has it been so absolutely clear that damnit I NEED SOME TIME ALONE! PLEASE! Like in a sauna, or on a beach.

I practically cried (well actually I did cry, I should say that I practically broke down completely) last week when my double, jog style stroller got two flats and I couldn't go for a long walk. Fortunately I have a back up stroller that seats one baby and as you can see, I have a mighty talented scooter ridin' boy, so we made it out of the house. And even though we need rain and snow, the sun was such a gift last week. There's nothing like sunshine on my face to brighten things up.

I was my own worst enemy, trying to do it all and beating myself up for not adhering to all of the suggestions in the perfect parenting books and blogs. Then I read this post and laughed so hard. Damn did that feel good. She is FUNNY. Sometimes I just need a change in perspective. Scootin' with Finn is always good for that.

Letting go of expectations.

 Stuffed into borrowed, hand-me-down winter clothes, Finn was uncomfortable--scared and resistant to going out in the snow. Just two days earlier we went to see the Big Trees and he wasn't dressed warmly enough (because the kid flat-out refuses to wear a coat most of the time). He despised walking in the mud and snow. It took every drop of patience I had to help him have fun (picture frequent, loud three-year-old emotional breakdowns). I realized that I would have to force him into warm clothes for the trip up the mountain.

It was a beautiful, blue-bird day--perfect sledding weather. Finn's little friend was all about it. The two of them were like Frog & Toad. Remember them? Toad tends to be a bit reluctant and a pessimist, while Frog is a glass-half-full kind of guy. 

Finn laid himself down on the snow and refused to walk. I tried making deals like I did in the trees a few days ago: "Walk to that tree over there and then I'll carry you to the next sign". Wasn't working. Finally Jason pulled him on the sled. It was more important for him to have a positive experience then to make him walk on his own, but man, was he stubborn.


Of course, eventually I got him sledding. His cute smile truly melts my heart.

He's like this in almost all new situations. Clinging to me or his dad and sucking on his finger while twirling his hair, it's usually time to go home by the time he warms up. Even though we know we shouldn't, Jason & I get frustrated sometimes: Why can't he jump right in and have fun like the other kids? It worries me. I want so much for him to be happy and fun and adventurous--my expectations get in the way. I try not to let them.

I was a sensitive kid and remember being shy. My emotions were (still are) difficult for me and my parents to deal with. I felt like my mom wanted me to be different--as if she didn't really like me. And that was sad. (It still makes me sad just thinking about it.) She did the best she could. We talked about it as adults, which was so healing for me. I don't blame my parents, I just want to learn from my own past and help Finn. My mom would say to me "Don't be such a worry-wart!", but no one ever told me how not to worry.

Finn needs my understanding and acceptance. He needs my help to learn how to deal with his own fears. I want him to know that it's okay, that I love him when he feels reluctant, or scared, or shy. He can take all the time he needs.  

And even though my parents didn't teach me how not to worry (probably because they didn't know how to show me at the time), they taught me how to persist when I felt defeated or unsure, to look for the positive in people and situations and to believe that I can do whatever I set out to do. I hope I can do the same for my boys.

I think I had a breakthrough on the snow. I will let go of all expectations. It's so simple, yet can be so hard to do.

Thanking the Big Trees

Hide and Seek in the Giant Sequoias.
Grandmother trees. soft red bark. light filtered through the canopy. magic.
One 3 year old jumping in snow puddles, the other screaming--a mud aversion.

What do you want me to do?

please?

What do you want me to do? that was the text from Jason (the man who married me) me this afternoon after he received two desperate texts from me: 1.So tired and no break! I need sleep.  and 2. I'm not joking. I'm going to lose it. 

Background:
I'd just been woken up from a 10 minute half-slumber by the baby who also woke me up 4 or 5 times last night (and has been for the past 11 months) nursing and gnawing on me like a little rat, scratching me with his nails as he switches sides. Ouch. I'd just settled the 3 year old down for a nap after 6 hours of strife over everything possible--most importantly, the fact that he does not want the baby touching ANYTHING at all in the house, because Finn has it arranged in a very important manner and it must not be disturbed. Ever. Again.
What happened? Why two days of complete hell? What changed?
As usual (this happens every few weeks) I wonder, maybe I'm really not cut out for this parenting thing. And then I go and read some "mothering" forums about 3 year olds, commiserate and feel better.
The baby refuses to be put down, so I get out the baby carrier and slide him into the backpack. That's when he promptly pees down my back and I send the desperate texts. (note: I didn't even change out of the shirt for another hour or so--that's how bad it was.)

Reading Jasona's text, I realize that I did it to him again. I sent him a 'venting' text. He doesn't even like it when I vent in person or on the phone.  He gets all 'male' on me and thinks, Why are you telling me this? Don't tell me unless there's something I can do to fix it. 
Why do I send him a text like that? What do I want him to do?
1. Stop time and let me sleep for a couple of weeks.
2. Stop time and let me go to a tropical island where I can lie on a hammock at the beach and sleep.
(note: the 'stopping time' element is key here. I fantasize about it all the time. I don't really want to leave my nursing baby without mama for a couple of weeks, I just want to freeze time and let myself escape.)
3. Grant me daily massages and trips to the sauna.
4. Just listen to me.
5. Get home in time for me to take a shower before teaching yoga?

(I only texted #5)

Happy sleeping.

Image source

Figalicious

It started to get cold up here in the hills this week.
As freeze threatened, Finn and I rushed to harvest all of the green tomatoes still hanging from the plants in our front yard and the last of the basil too. Jason spotted a fig tree full of fruit up the road at an empty house. We know the owner, (also the proprietor of a local winery) so J asked if he'd mind if we went at it.
Foraging fruit is a magical endeavor.
I wish the streets were lined with fruit trees. In San Diego you can find lemons, pomegranates and even avocados. Now that we live in the colder mountain climate we can't pick citrus or avocados but we have family and friends with apples, figs, pears, pomegranates, peaches, plums and raspberries.

Figs are food of the gods, for sure. I don't think I even knew about figs before moving to California 12 years ago and started working on small farms.
Our fig bounty called for a Mediterranean meal-- so this is what we did:

I made (recipes & details to follow):
Fig sesame jam 
figs, goat cheese and rosemary on almond flour herb crackers
pesto, broccoli, red pepper and tomato pizza (with a grain free crust)
roasted tomato soup 


1. Let's start with the amazing fig-sesame jam:
I followed this recipe from Gourmet at epicurious.com, but used 1/3-1/2  cup of raw honey instead of 1 1/4 cups of sugar.
I love to eat this with my friend John. We spread fig jam on a baguette with Humboldt Fog cheese (my absolute favorite cheese in the whole wide world). But I only had regular chevre on hand, John is in San Diego and we're not eating gluten-- so we had it on homemade herbed crackers from Elanaspantry.com.  I seriously want a tub of this jam!


2. Another favorite of mine is grilled Rosemary fig skewers-- (but our grill isn't functioning and my oven was busy). It's kind of like this recipe but instead you skewer the figs on a stick of rosemary, slice the fig and stuff it with the goat cheese, drizzle with honey and olive oil and then grill. I'm telling you this stuff is indescribably delicious.  Since we couldn't do the skewers, I just put all of that stuff on my cracker bread. It was good too--but didn't compare to the skewers.

3. Pesto pizza
I turned the last basil of the season into pesto, put some of it on the pizza and froze the rest in an ice cube tray. I'll put the little squares in a freezer bag so that I can use it this winter.
Here's the grain free pizza crust recipe I use (made with almond flour), but I vary with the spices. If you're dairy-free, sub the Parmesan cheese with 2 tbsp ground sesame seeds, 1 tbsp ground chia and some salt and spices (found this tip in the comments of the above recipe post). I love this crust.


4. Roasted tomato soup with broiled cheddar from Smitten Kitchen. Crazy good. I slow roasted the tomatoes instead of quick roasted them. It's like grilled cheese and tomato soup all in one. Perfect for a rainy day. It's so good that I forgot to take a photo of it until it was all gone.


How about you? Do you love figs? What are you eating as the weather turns cold?


All photos by Jason B Smith except for the empty cup of soup.

Birth Story: Finn

I love reading birth stories, so I thought I'd post both of mine and then convince some other people to let me post their stories. Here's my first: Finn, born May 13th, 2008. I wrote this a month or two after he was born.

Giving birth is like an initiation, really. One day, I was an average pregnant woman: uncomfortable, belly stretched to unimaginable proportions, a waddling walk-- wondering day after day "when is this all going to go down?"

And then it happens. For me, there was no question. This is labor. I awoke just past midnight to the cramping that occurred in intervals of about 10 -20 minutes. I had just finished work that afternoon and given a final presentation that night. I turned on my ipod and relaxed in the dark on my bed listening to the calming Hypnobirth tracks. Time passed quickly as I practiced breathing and listened to the birthing affirmations over and over again.

I wanted to wake up Jason because I was so excited, but I decided to let him rest for a while. I held out for an hour or two until I saw him stir in his sleep. I'm in labor, honey. He didn't seem to think it was for real. After a couple of hours and some convincing, Jason started to pack. We called the midwife--Jude-- who said that I should try to eat something. I considered the peanut butter and toast in front of me, but couldn't do it. My contractions were four minutes apart and she said if I couldn't eat then it was probably time to head to the birth center. It was 5:30 a.m.

The early morning darkness was strange at the large house that was converted into Best Start Birth Center. It was empty and quiet like an abandoned office. I was 6 cm dilated when we arrived and 8 cm soon after. I climbed into the warm tub and Jason turned on music. Billie Holiday, St. Germain. It felt good to be in the water. I thought that I would have the baby soon and right there in the jacuzzi style tub. I felt confident and calm-- I got this-- no problem.

But the baby had other plans. He was anterior and I was feeling the contractions intensely in my back. I remembered that a friend told me to have someone apply counter pressure-- so Jason pushed on my lower back with two tennis balls during the contractions. I kept my breath slow and deep.

Labor takes you into such an altered state. I remember the other people (the nurse, midwife, nurse assistants) making cameos in my solo universe. Jason was next to me, whispering words of encouragement every so often. I remember thinking that he was so sweet and that he must be tired. Jude kept checking the baby's heart rate. Sandra and Deborah were nurses training to be birth assistants and Ruth was the main nurse. Sometimes their cell phones would ring and they would chat. I wanted them to be quiet, but then I didn't seem to care too much.

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No one tells you just how painful the whole thing is. I was shocked to be vomiting. Jude said that it was normal and that I was probably in 'transition'. Hours had passed and I hadn't dilated much further than 8.5 cm. Whenever Jude checked me she talked about how the 'lip' of the cervix was caught (or something like that) and that I needed to dilate a little further. Maybe he wasn't progressing because he wanted to flip over?

Jude broke my water, which in retrospect, I should have refused. Maybe the water sac would've helped Finn turn and get out easier.

I got out of the tub and onto all fours on the bed. I focused on getting the baby to turn around. I waited for the 'urge to push' that they talked about, but I never had it. I thought that I was going to 'breathe the baby down'. That's what the Hypnobirthing classes talked about. Jude seemed skeptical that it would work. I had no clue. I just wanted it to happen...soon. Jude did too. She mentioned that I might need to transfer to the hospital if things didn't start to progress soon.

I was in the tub again when she said this and for the first time I started to get scared and stressed. I can't go to the hospital. There's no way I'm getting into a car! This baby will be born here in this room.
My focus faded. What if I can't do this? I could feel myself clenching with the contractions and wondered if I was keeping myself from getting the urge to push. You're doing everything right. That was Ruth--this made me feel better. The contractions were getting so close together there didn't seem to be a break between them. The intensity increased as well. I tried to envision my cervix softening and opening. Let go. Release. Allow it to happen.

Enter: Roberta (another midwife). She persuaded me to get up on the bed, stuck her hand up inside me and looked at me with a calming, confident smile. She has long, silver hair and looks like a midwife. "Your baby is right there, Colleen. You're going to push him out now." She seemed so sure that I could do it. And she showed me how. I believed it. Okay, I can do this.

Jason and all of those women helped me to do it. Dulce-- the woman that I talked to at the front desk for each of my prenatal visits even came in to help. She rolled up a sheet and I pulled on it for resistance. The other two nurses held my legs. Jason sat behind me. When they showed me what to do and I tried it,  I couldn't believe it was what I actually had to do. I thought my uterus would burst out of my abdomen. (Remember, I still didn't have the urge to push-- I was forcing it here). Labor had been so quiet and serene until now. I screamed. I didn't want to scream. I thought of all the people in the waiting room and how I must be scaring them. I thought of all the women before me who had done this. I had always considered myself to be a tough, strong woman, but now I just wanted this all to be over. All of these people must think I'm being dramatic. [Edited to add: this is hilarious to me now! i was so concerned that I wasn't doing it right!] I wanted the baby out and I didn't think I could get it out myself. I don't think I can do this!!!!  (I yelled).They reassured me, Yes you can. .

Each push seemed to yield such little progress! Isn't the birth canal short? They moved me from the bed to the birth stool and back to the bed. I decided I didn't want to push in the water-- I didn't know how everyone would help me in there. The women told me to relax my face as I pushed and to focus on my 'bottom'. That helped. I was wasting energy by clenching every muscle in my body. His head felt like a bowling ball in my vagina.

As I climbed back up on the bed for the final pushes I felt his head go back up and I thought I was losing ground. It's two steps forward and one back, Colleen. You are progressing. You are doing everything right...Ruth was amazing. I wanted to believe her.

They told me to lie flat because of the way he was angled. They thought he would come out easier this way. At one point they had me reach down and feel his hairy little head coming out. I was scared to do this too. I don't know why. I think that I still thought he would bust out my entire pelvic floor.
He was right there! A few more pushes they told me. Each push seemed to gain such small ground. There's his head, it's almost out. Come on! Okay, his head is out, now his shoulders...That sounded hard to do...I pictured the birth videos that I'd watched, after the shoulders the rest came easily. I felt him slither out and then the weight of his wet body on my chest. There he was screaming, umbilical cord and all. A blanket was thrown over him.

He opened his little eyes and looked at me-- a living, breathing creature. There he was-- part of me, part of Jason. I moved him toward my breast and he suckled there. Time stopped. 3:03 p.m. He was wiggling and he looked huge! I couldn't believe that he came out of my body. He had a crazy conehead. Will that go away? They assured me, yes.

Jason cut the cord. He was like an angel beside me. He looked so happy. As Jude gave me a couple of stitiches Jason held our son. Everything had changed. And it was nothing like I expected. My whole world had just opened up into a different reality. It was an initiation, really. Into what, I'm not so sure-- I was struck by how little I know about life. How little I've experienced. How rich it really all is. And now I've experienced giving birth. Next is motherhood. yikes.

For about a month afterwards, I would search my mind for all of the mothers I know and think things like: "Wow. She did that? She doesn't seem like she could handle it!" I had a new found respect and connection to moms everywhere. I would see women in parking lots who looked otherwise unimposing, towing kids, doing their thing and I'd think, " I wonder what her births were like..." I suddently realized that there were all of these women walking around who had given birth, which was undoubtedly the most challenging thing I'd ever faced, and it didn't even seem acknowledged by society. Shouldn't they be walking around like goddesses or queens or something?
And maybe they actually are.

He's 3 alright.

 I feel like three is one of those things that no one tells you about until you get there, then all of a sudden everyone is saying ..."yup, 3 is tough--much harder than 2." Or maybe it's like the pain of childbirth: people mention it but you don't really get it until it happens to you. Finn is 3 and 3 months and wow. Yesterday was possibly one of my most difficult days ever, the kind of day where I broke down to tears multiple times and wondered if I could possibly be able to handle this parenting thing. The kind of day where I  finally understand why my mom had trouble being patient with me and I wish I could just call her up and say "sorry" and "thank you." I had to give myself time-outs to regroup and remain calm and consistent. There's pee on the floor, in the bed and threats of pee on the baby's head. Homemade granola is knocked off of the counter into the open drawers as I have one baby (who should be napping) on my hip and the other (who should also be napping) playing and peeing on his bed.  I'm spatchcocking a chicken and spilling the raw chicken juice everywhere. WE SHOULD ALL BE NAPPING, DAMN IT!

 And then there's today. My boy is back. He's making the baby laugh and then playing quietly while the other one naps. He's helping me clean up and he's actually agreeing to get dressed. I love you mommy.
I guess I can make it one more day....

Pops!

Wow...where did July go? Too little sleep to post, I suppose. With all the delicious fruit of summer I've been making lots of popsicles and ice cream. Here's a taste:

  

Pictured above is a blueberry kefir coconut pop. I based it on a recipe in Martha's Everyday Food magazine (special issue 2011) ... it didn't swirl like I wanted...but it tasted delicious. Finn was all about these.  Here is an approximate recipe (for 8 pops):

• 1-2 cups of blueberries
• 1/4 -1/2 cup raw honey (the recipe calls for 3/4 cup of sugar...but I thought they were sweet enough)
• 1 cup kefir (or greek yogurt)
• 1 cup coconut milk (original uses cream here)

Make a quick syrup with the blueberries and about a third of the honey (or sugar)...(3 minutes on stovetop).  Let cool in the fridge for about 30 min.

Whisk or blend together the rest of the honey, kefir and coconut milk until the honey mixes in (or the sugar dissolves). Pour the mixtures (alternating into pop molds and then with a skewer (or something similar) swirl the blueberry. (I think the swirling action would work better with a thick greek yogurt. My blueberries sunk because the kefir/coconut milk mixture was more liquid-y). Freeze until solid.

The next recipe (above) was also based on another from the same magazine. It has layers of blueberry and raspberry with kefir blended in to give it a nice texture. (Martha uses cream, I think...or maybe it was yogurt). These were Jason's fave.

Here is the approximate recipe (makes 8-10...I ended up filling ice cube trays too!):

• 1 lb each of raspberries and blueberries or blackberries

•  1/4-1/2 cup of raw honey (I can't remember how much I used. The original calls for 1 cup of sugar-- but raw honey is way too precious for that much and again, they were plenty sweet)
• 1 cup kefir (original calls for heavy cream)

In a blender, combine one color berry and half of the honey and kefir. Blend until smooth. Pour through a fine strainer, pressing on solids (should have about 2 cups). Then do the same with the other type of berry. (Discard solids).

Fill molds 1/3 full with one color mixture and the other four with the other color. Freeze for about 1 hour. Then pour a middle layer (alternating colors). Insert ice-pop sticks. Freeze for about 45 minutes.  Then top with final layer and freeze until frozen solid. (I don't think I waited long enough so my layers weren't perfect!).

Worms!: vermicomposting is fun...

We moved our worm farm up to the hills with us from San Diego and the critters are going strong! I've been neglecting them and had to move them to a bigger bin. The problem is that we generate a lot more food scraps than they can eat. We'll have to set up a regular compost pile somewhere too... but I love the worms.

Step 1: drilled holes and Step 2: added bedding to new bin

Finn sporting his 'big boy underpants' outside

After drilling holes and adding bedding to the new bin Finn and I started to add food and some of the worms. The green bin will be stacked on top of the blue bin. Most of the worms are supposed to migrate up to the green bin through the 1/4 inch holes that I drilled in the bottom once they realize that all of their food is gone from the bottom bin... (see below).

Here we are a few days later...moving more worms because I'm nervous they won't migrate! Relax, Colleen, they'll move eventually! Again...Finn is modelling another pajama top with his rain boots.

And here's a shot of Bodhi and me both extremely sleep deprived: