Sneaky Chicken Soup

I recently read through the Deceptively Delicious cookbook (kind of like Sneaky Chef) that a friend of mine loaned to me. I love how you can incorporate veggies in things that I never would have thought of before. While were iced in the house yesterday, I broke out some frozen chicken breasts from the back of the freezer (and then spent the next 15 minutes trying to figure out how to fit everything back in the freezer that fell out). I rummaged around the fridge and the pantry and came up with this...

Sneaky Chicken Soup

--3 frozen chicken breasts
--sea salt
--ground pepper
--2 bay leaves (mine were little)
--parsley
--paprika
--basil
--onion powder
--garlic powder
--celery salt
--1 large potato
--1 can petite diced tomatoes
--1 package of frozen broccoli (steam in bag)
--2/3 cup of brown rice
--extra chicken broth (just in case)

1. Place frozen chicken in stock pot with enough water to cover the chicken a couple of inches. Turn heat on med-high while adding seasonings (sea salt through celery salt). I would give amounts but I kind of eyeball. I went light on the sea salt and light on the celery salt because I figured the two combined would be enough (and you can always add salt later). The other seasonings floated on the water so I made little piles of them figuring 1/4 to 1/2 tsp here and there. Give a good stir and then cover the pot. I simmered slowly for over an hour, turned off the heat, and let the chicken cool.

2. Remove chicken to cutting board and strain broth through a sieve. Cut up chicken (I cut and shredded) and return to clean broth. Turn heat back to medium. Dice up one larg potato and add to pot. I happened to have a large russet stuck in the bottom of the fridge. Empty can of tomatoes and juice into the pot. Add the rice. If soup has started bubbling, turn heat down to low.

3. Cook packet of broccoli in microwave according to directions. I had SteamFresh broccoli cuts that takes 5minutes in the microwave. There is no seasoning on the vegetables. After steaming, remove from packet and puree in blender (or handy dandy magic bullet) with some broth from the soup. Add puree to the soup pot.

4. Taste test soup. I had to add a little garlic salt for my own taste preferences. Cook for another 15 minutes (or 45 if you happen to have regular ole brown rice that takes 45 minutes to cook). Stir occasionally...the rice sticks around the bottom of the pot.

Serve and enjoy and tell no-one that there's a healthy green puree in your soup!

Work Morning versus Weekend Mornings

I just read Sandi's post about her morning routine with her three kiddoes and am taking a lead off of that to post my own version.

On weekday mornings:

• We don't need an alarm clock...the baby wakes up between 5:00 and 5:30 every morning.
• Hubby gets him from his crib in his room and brings him back to bed with us. If it's 5:00, he gets to wallow around on us for 30 minutes. If it's 5:30, he only gets 5 minutes.
• I get up and start getting ready...brush teeth, straighten hair, put on make-up, get dressed...while Hubby brushes his teeth, throws on clothes, slaps a ballcap on his head, and take baby to the kitchen for his breakfast.
• Hubby changes baby's clothes.
• We teamwork on getting the baby's things together and ready for daycare and there's a general standing appointment every morning consisting of "Where's the baby's jacket?" That damn thing always ends up in the darndest places.
• Out the door and off to daycare and work.

On weekend mornings...

• We don't want an alarm clock but we're up between 5:00 and 5:30 because the baby wakes up at that time.
• Bring him back to bed and let him wallow around and roll on the bed for an hour. He spends part of that time chocked up against Hubby while he watches "Blue's Clues".
• Roll out of bed finally because K'man has decided he's ready for his real breakfast and the milk in that bottle he had when he woke up just isn't cutting it anymore.
• Pull my crazy funky hair back and slap a bandana on my head, rinse my face, quick brush with toothpaste, and then waddle into the kitchen.
• 3 hours later think about getting dressed because I really need to put on a bra
• Change the baby's clothes because he's smeared his breakfast all over his pajamas and I'm tired of picking up waffle crumbs all over the house.
• It's 10:00...I really should put on make-up
• It's 11:00...I think I'll just wear a ballcap today
• It's 12:00...I think I'll take a nap while the baby does
• It's 2:00...Oh wait...it's not morning anymore...we better get out of the house for a while

Fried Zucchini

As I've talked about before, Little Man is on a dairy free, egg free, fish free, peanut free diet. Any exposure to dairy results in a severe skin reaction. We have not seen what consuming it will do to him but we have epi-pens and we really don't want to know. Since that is the terms we live on now days, I've had to re-learn some ways of cooking. Milk free is fairly easy when you substitute soy milk. Anything with cheese is pretty much a no-no because even "soy" cheeses have a dairy component. I did find a vegan cheese, but I haven't tried it with him yet as I'm waiting for a day with good weather when both my husband and I are home so that if there is a reaction, we can both act on it and get him whatever help he needs. Really and truly, if the label holds true, there shouldn't be a reaction, but I don't ever try new foods without having the back-up of my hubby around.

K'man has been a really good vegetable eater. He's my "gween bean" dude, but he's lately taken to watching how far a "gween bean" can fly across the kitchen. I think he's ready to try a new veggie. So, yesterday I made him some fried zucchini that went over really well.

Fried Zucchini

--Soy milk
--Olive Oil
--Canola Oil
--Matzo meal
--Corn meal
--Garlic Salt, pepper, basil
--Zucchini

1. In a shallow bowl, mix 1/2 cup of soymilk with 2 Tbs olive oil. In a separate shallow bowl, mix 1/2 cup of matzo meal with 1/2 cup of cornmeal. Season dry ingredients with garlic salt, ground pepper, and dried basil.

2. Pour enough canola oil in the bottom of a skillet to give about 1/4" depth. Heat over medium heat.

3. Slice zucchini. (I had two of them, so one I sliced thinly and the other I made thick slices - I like both ways as did the baby) Soak slices in milk & olive oil and then cover in dry mixture. Transfer to hot oil and fry lightly. Remove and drain on paper towels.

You'd never know these were missing egg and milk.

He knows me well

My husband teases me about lack of patience with the modern technology known as the cellphone. Many times he's been cut short in mid-sentence because I couldn't hear him for more than 3 seconds so I disconnected the call. I hate dropped calls...with a passion. It's more than a pet peeve. So, the instant I think the phone has dropped my call or the connection has become less than stellar, I disconnect. I jam my thumb down on that "end call" key and derive great satisfaction from it. Kind of the ole, do it to them before they do it to you kind of thing...only I'm trying to hang up on the cellphone before it hangs up on me. Seem unreasonable? I don't think so, either.

Hubster will call me almost immediately and start laughing. He says it's no time that the reception wanes until he hears "CLICK!" and I'm off the line. Never mind that maybe we're going through a rough patch of cell reception - 3 seconds of thinking that maybe the phone call is a goner and it's "CLICK!" - end call.

I'm at work (and it's starting to ice over outside). I just tried to call a consultant 3 times on his cell phone. It never rang. It would just beep at me and then silence and then "CLICK!" I'd hang up thinking the stupid cell towers are worthless trash. On the fourth try when it beeped at me and just before my red map color pencile could jam down on the receiver button to end the call, I heard the faintest of sounds...like a jacket rustling. I said, "Hello?!" And lo and behold, the consultant was on the other end of the line...in Mexico. Apparently, phones don't ring in Mexico and he'd been wondering who the heck was calling and hanging up. So I had to laugh because I know that when I re-tell this to Hubster this evening that he will get a good laugh at yet another round of my eagerness to end non-perfect phone calls with the slight sound of "CLICK!".

Just a jumble of thoughts

The evil bug is running rampant in the toddler room at daycare. It's the same bug that had all three of us sick a few months ago and I almost cried at daycare when I dropped K-man off and saw the sign on the door last week. A grown woman standing admist a roomful of less-than-2-year-olds and hardly holding herself together at the thought of another bought of endless vomiting and diahrrea. I'm such a sissy. I'm also half-hypochondriac. I was feeling fine, read the sign, and thought, "oooo...I think I already feel nauseaous." And then I caught myself and called b.s. on my symptoms and they disappeared. Why doesn't that work with the real thing?

So, I spent the weekend watching the little guy for any sign of this illness recurring in our home. Every time he fell asleep, I fumigated the house with lysol. I was even fumigating last night while we were trying to put our Wal-Mart shopping away after the baby had gone to bed. Hubby must have gotten one too many nose-fulls of it because he finally stomped his feet and said, "Stop it!!!!!". I giggled...then lysoled him and ran down the hall.

We think K-man is cutting molars. He's been off his feed (so to speak) the past few days but he seems to feel good. I would stick my finger in his mouth to check, but the last time I did that he clamped down and grinned from around my aching finger. I can't scream when he does that...he thinks it's funny and then bites harder. Punk.

I've been reading everyone's thoughts on Jillian Michael's 30 day shred. Think I need to try that...one of these days. The baby hasn't slept well the past 3 nights and I call a cease-fire on my attempts to get back in shape when there's lost sleep. No sleep + extra exercise (oh, who am I kidding? exercise, period.) = sick me. I've considered using something like Hydroxycut or SlimQuik but my Hubster is certain that I'd go psycho on those things. Just give me a little sugar and I bounce off the walls for 30 minutes like a cat on crack. Sugar makes me hyper happy.

Oh! A side note to a previous post (here). My hair grew back. Just in case anyone had been hanging on by a hair wondering! (ha ha...I made a pun!)

Squaws - then and now

The hallway that you have to walk down at work to get to Subway has old pictures of Native Americans hung on the walls. One of them had this squaw standing near a stream and she wasn't a Disney Sacajawea, either. Her boobs hung past her belly button. It was disturbing. It made me self-consciously adjust my bra in order to perk mine up.

I'm not bragging here folks, just tellin' it like it is...I have DD's. They drive me nuts. They are their own personalities and with PMS, that's too many personalities for this one body. They get in my way. They're saggy. They stretch my bras. And they won't leeeeeeaave. Now, I know what it is to release them from their holding pens and let them hang free at night. No way, no how could I do that all day.

How did that squaw do anything? Wanna skin a buffalo? Better tie those babies up, because you might knick one. Wanna cook dinner over that open flame? You best better roast weiners on a really long stick because you need something that sticks out further than those babies. Wanna nurse your child? How!? You can't see them over your boobs!!! Gotta run from an adversary's war party? Watch out for that speed wobble!

Thank goodness for underwire and spandex...modern squaws' best friends.

I like my money without spit

I normally try to bring my lunch during the work week. It's cheaper. It's healthier. It makes me eat on a more regular schedule, and that makes my husband thank me because he doesn't have to fend off my blood sugar swings. Today, I didn't do it. I didn't have time last night and most certainly didn't have time this morning. (who has time in the mornings?)

For lunch today, I went down to the first floor and got lunch from Subway. Not exactly ideal considering the nutritionist just told me last week to lay off dairy, wheat, and yeast. Hey, lady, I'm human. No dairy...check....I'll get tuna without cheese. No yeast...check...I'll get the wrap. No wheat...forget it...this is suuuuubbbbwaaaaay - they don't do that whole "no wheat" thing.

I've gotten to the point in life where no matter how good something tastes, it just isn't worth the anal repurcussions that could follow. Case in point, I don't ever get lettuce or tomato at Subway. One too many "revenge of Montezuma" episodes have firmly planted in my head to just say no to the fresh veggies that the sandwich maker has been hanging over the past hour. So, I ordered my tuna wrap with olives, pickles, banana peppers, jalepenos, and oil & vinegar (nooooo, I'm not pregnant, I really am this weird) and proceeded to the check-out. The total came to $5 and someodd change, so I paid with a ten dollar bill. And then it happened. She pulled out some ones and started counting them...AFTER SHE LICKED HER FINGERS!!! Excuse me, maybe I'm the only person out there who this disgusts, but I like money minus your grody spit. I didn't say anything to her but went directly to the restroom after leaving the store to wash my hands...twice.

Now, I know that any money that crosses my palm has probably seen more places in the US than I ever will. I recognize that there lies an irrefutable truth that most of the money has been places I don't ever want to know about. But, hey! Ignorance is bliss!!! So, now, on top of all of my other quirks (use my knuckle to press elevator buttons, use my foot or butt to push a door open, use my pinky if I have to pull a door open) I will now be disinfecting my hands after handling money.

All in a day's work

I've been out in the field yesterday and today (headed home tomorrow) waiting on a frac job to take place on one of my wells. Well, it's not MY well...it belongs to the company, but it falls under my watch, so I call it mine. This well also happens to be male. All of my other wells (over the past 6 years) have been female but for some odd reason I've taken to calling this well "him" or "he". Don't ask why, I'm really not sure and I find it slightly disturbing.

Over the course of today, I've managed to...

• Eat a balanced breakfast
• Log on to the internet and check my e-mail 189 times
• Revise cost estimates for submittal to management (tomorrow! can anyone say "procrastinator"?)
• Curse the hotel wi-fi 3892 times because it crashed on my 190th attempt to check my e-mail
• Go shopping at Wal-Mart for lunch and determine that their selection of dairy free, wheat free, yeast free microwave dinners sucks and is non-existent. I also got sidetracked in the baby aisle and bought an insane amount of new bathtub toys for my baby. Might I be missing my child???
• Eat microwaved sweet potatoes, black beans, and plantains for lunch (It was Kashi. It was interesting. I wouldn't recommend it.)
• Drive 60 miles today
• Stand on a location bossing 6 men around in regards to the next step on our newest well while looking up at all of them because I stand at a towering 5'1"
• Survey a new free-water knockout (that thing was AWESOME! It's h-u-g-e!)
• Walk the line on an environmental incident (not associated with my company) and then take video footage of it for our records
• Meet with a state agency rep
• Eat dinner at IHop
• Exchange 289 phone calls between 7:30 and 9:30 pm regarding our completion fluids and whether or not we'll actually do the job tomorrow that I traveled all the way out here for...which we aren't, so I'm headed home tomorrow.

This soooo beats any day at the office.

Jumper cables and little lights

As I pulled into our driveway the other night after bringing K-man home from the doctor's, I noticed a small bright green light on our front porch. My first instinct was "aliens!". Okay, so maybe it wasn't E.T. but my stomach clenched up andmy knuckles grabbed the steering wheel a little firmer. Hubby was on the bluetooth with me chatting away and I had stopped listening. I slowed to a stop in the drive and peered a little harder. What was that? Jumper cables? A little green light? A battery of sorts? Ahhhh....I tuned back into what he was saying and interupted him. "Do you have something charging on the front porch?"

"Why?", he asked. "Is something on fire?"

"Noooooo."

"Oh! Good! Yeah, I'm charging my four-wheeler battery."

"So, if you knew you were charging something on the front porch, then why was your first response to ask me if something was on fire?"

"Ummmmm." pause. "I dunno! No reason!"

"So, if you're first thought was that our front porch was on fire, then there's a possibility that the battery might explode on. our. front. porch.?"

"Weelllllll..." pause. "You sure are pretty!"

Uh huh. The battery got relocated. Now it won't explode on our front porch. It'll only take the garage with it when it goes. I feel so much better now.

A Decorating Dilemma

After getting the baby's crib out of our room, we were suddenly left with a surprising amount of space. I finally took destiny into my own hands (okay, so maybe that's exaggerating) and rearranged our bedroom furniture about two weeks ago. I dared to do something unconventional. I put the bed in the corner angled out to the middle of the room! *quiet gasps are heard around the room* And now I have...*dum dum de dum!* dead space!!! (is that supposed to be one word or two? My blog...we're going with two.)

I love the bed angled into the room...it adds character and the room actually supports it really well. Another bonus, we can see the tv now without craning our necks in ways that would make a chiropractor cringe. I just can't stand the empty space behind the headboard now. We have a metal/wood headboard and footboard. It kind of looks like this...

So, you can see why I have a double disdain for the corner situation. Not only is there empty, unused space, but you can actually SEE that it's there! Artificial plants are definitely ruled out...they're just something else to dust and I don't really want a plant hanging out behind me while I'm sleeping. Kinda creeps me out...one too many episodes of Batman and Poison Ivy and her people eating plants, I guess. I've thought about covering the headboard with a padded upholstered board, but then that wouldn't go with the metal footboard (and I can't cover it...it's funky that way). I've thought about hanging a quilt in the corner, but that would be screaming, "HEY! I'm a quilt! Hung in a corner! Not doing anything!" I've thought about hanging curtains from the ceiling and try to creat a false wall. Hubster wanted to veto that because he's afraid spiders would crawl up it and be right there over our heads to jump on us while we sleep. Ya think we have phobia issues? I'm seeing a pattern. My other thought was one of those room dividers...what are they called...privacy screens? Like what the ladies used to get dressed behind back in the old days. Why that would be any different for spiders than curtains hanging from the ceiling, I'm not sure, except to say that then there wouldn't be folds of fabric for the little 8 legged monsters to hide in.

So, anyone have any good ideas or thoughts to add to what I've posted here? I'm still thinking...

A compliment?

We had to take K-man to the pediatrician yesterday. He'd been fussy all weekend and while we know that he's doing some serious teething, that screaming bit was indicative of something else going on. Yet, he only really fussed when it came time to sleep. Well, the daycare called yesterday afternoon and our little man had woken up from naptime with a 100.2 degree fever. I immediately thought, "Ear Infection!" That's the only thing that made sense. So we got him in to see the doctor yesterday afternoon.

I met Hubby and baby there at the office and got in the little room with them about 15 minutes after they got there. It's a good thing both of us were there, as it gets increasingly difficult to entertain a one-year old in a room the size of a handicap stall in a women's restroom. What really makes the trip a keeper for the memory book is when K'ster decides it's time to relieve himself of his last three meals. I caught him squatting in the corner of the room (like there was any place to hide). Where did my child learn to squat to go potty? So, there he squatted...then stood up, then squatted, then stood up, then squatted. It was somewhat entertaining and somewhat disturbing. And if I did that squatting routine like he did everyday, I sure wouldn't have these saddle bags on my legs that so graciously add character to Shirley. After all of that squatting the baby did, he finally stood straight up, clenched his little budha belly, pursed his lips, cuts his eyes up at me, and held his breath. Good Heavens that child can stink! I knew he was finished with business when he burst out into a grin and did a little jig in front of me. I know the feeling, bubba, I know the feeling. So, now our little bathroom stall smelled the part.

Aside from the saving grace of Hubster remembering to bring a water bottle and crackers for the little kiddo, what mainly kept his (our) sanity was the little rolling stool that the doctor sits on. K-man loves to push that around that little room and whang in against the walls, the chairs, the cabinets, and the exam table - and the occasional parent. I finally sat on the rolly-stool and played him as I whirled around. He got tired of that game and got down where he could push on the legs of the stool. That child put himself in four-low and started pushing....and pushed me on that stool! Now, lemme tell ya folks, I'm no lightweight! And while I full and well realize that some dynamics were in play in relation to weight and coefficients of friction and the angle of moments along with momentun, the fact remains that my little bulldozer pushed me around. We scooped him up once we realized what he was doing and checked him out and he was fine...ticked that we had stifled his fun, but he was fine, and we deterred him from doing that again.

The morale of the story, if you're feeling bad about what you weigh, just tell someone that your 1-year old can push you around on a rolly stool. They'll all think you're light as a feather! (suckers)

Fears

K-man was officially diagnosed with a dairy allergy, and we're in the process of transitioning him to a full soy routine. It's been interesting learning how to prepare meals without eggs or milk. I can now make some pretty darn good egg-free, milk-free pancakes and have to play referee on who gets what share of pancake between baby and daddy. However, with this new found knowledge of just how allergic our child can be to dairy products comes the fear of wondering what his reaction will be to every new food introduced.

In the infant room at daycare, I had pretty good control over what went in to his mouth. However, now that he's moved to the young toddler room, he's on a different menu plan and they're watching what they feed him. It's hard for me to let go and trust that they'll be as diligent in their label reading as I am. Especially hard when we've brought him home the past two evenings and it's evident by his eczema that he's getting ahold of something that he's allergic to. Is it the apple juice? The ham? The mustard? I don't know. I do know that we suspicioned he may have had a sore throat Tuesday night because of the way he was swallowing his dinner here at home. After thinking over it a day, I now suspect that it wasn't a sort throat but a swollen one. So, I've spent the past hour digging around on food allergy websites and found that hot dogs, cold cuts, and "non-dairy" desserts often have an ingredient called sodium caseinate. Caseins and caseinates are derived from milk and are indeed dairy ingredients. We'll be asking the daycare to restrict ham from his diet. I'm suspicious of the mustard, but I've only got my mom's instinct guiding that. It's hard to tell someone that they can't feed your child something because you "think" they're allergic to it. No matter how nice they are, you know they're thinking that you're an overprotective parent nut. However, I don't care. This is our child and we're going to take care of him how we see fit. Perhaps someone else doesn't mind taking a chance with our child, but we sure as hell do. There's now a bottle of benadryl and an epi-pen at daycare and in his daypack.

I'm still not sure if we'll ever really need the epi-pen, but I feel much better having it. After seeing his lip swell up and his chin bust out in hives about 4 months ago from a touch of milk to his lip and now wondering if his throat was a little swollen the other night, I truly wonder just what our child may experience over the next year in terms of allergic reactions. We pray every night that he be blessed with health and wisdom and I wish my worry-wort self would relax a little about things. I don't see that happening anytime soon. I'm his mommy...I have the right to worry.

A Recap

I know that we're supposed to be grateful for the time we're given here on this earth with our friends and family. I am truly blessed. I am also truly glad that 2008 is o-v-e-r. I don't think I've ever had a year quite this hard. By the same token, I also know that the year could have been much harder and that life is life and hard times lay ahead. With that said, when I think back on the past 12 months, here's what pops to mind.

January 2008 - Still recovering from a c-section, going nuts on maternity leave, no sleep, crying screaming baby, still fighting breast milk leakage that just would NOT dry up, tired of changing my shirt several times a day, in awe of this little that was running our lives, loved the snuggle time and how he fit in a laundry basket (a makeshift bassinet in the living room)

February 2008 - still hurting from surgery, going nuts on maternity leave, ready to go back to work, not ready to leave my baby, oh the guilt, went back to work, changed daycare (twice), changed K-man's formula to the magic solution to stop all the crying and screaming - my little guy had been in pain.

March 2008 - Kelton's first illness, still hurting from surgery, barely surviving at work due to sleep deprivation, isn't the baby supposed to be sleeping through the night by now?

April 2008 - more illnesses, still having post-surgery issues, isn't the weight supposed to dropping off by now?, and why isn't the baby sleeping through the night?

May 2008 - he's still not sleeping

June 2008 - he's still not sleeping

July 2008 - he's still not sleeping

August 2008 - he's still not sleeping

September 2008 - he's still NOT SLEEPING

October 2008 - NOPE! NO SLEEEEP!

November 2008 - He slept 2 nights!!! Crap - he's still not sleeping.

December 2008 - His first birthday! We moved him to his own room. TA-DAH! He SLEEPS!!

Yeah, a year without sleep...can you see why I'm glad it's over? I get to sleep about 8 hours a night now...straight, wonderful, glorious sleep.