Astoria, OR

I love Oregon. When I left Puerto Rico twelve years ago, I wasn't sure I'd ever feel "at home" anywhere. Eventually I came to Oregon, looked around, and realized I'd finally found my place in the world, so I quickly moved here. I haven't wanted to leave since, and used to resent business trips that took me away for more than a couple of days.

Today we went to Astoria and had a great time. One of the highlights of this daytrip was going to the Astoria Column. I'm tired and still nursing the tail end of a bad flu, so I'll just let the pictures speak for me. The weather was a bit icky, so I'll have to post pictures of all this again in the Summer...


looking at the mouth of the Columbia River where it meets the Pacific.
















This is the column, we're standing at the door, ready to climb up the stairs to go up to the viewing platform.

















better picture of the mouth of the Columbia, and the bridge that leads to Washington State.












a view of Youngs Bay

behold the face of MISERY!

El Niño has finally gotten sick with something worse than a bit of the sniffles. For the first time, he threw up last night. And today, the output came out the other end... luckily, we were standing in the bathroom when it happened. Ahhhh, the joys of potty training a sick toddler!

I've been wondering about this child for a while now. Every time I read another parent blog, there are tales of nightmarish puke-fests. His older brothers were both projectile-vomiters from day one. Yet with him, we haven't even had to deal with spit-up. It's a very odd thing, I've been waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop. Hooray for the health benefits of breastmilk, right? And for Mo's Über-immune system, which he's apparently passed on to our child. Except that he's the one who brought the ick home this time.

And that's all she wrote... after 48 hours of little sleep and round-the-clock breastfeeding and holding (thank God I discovered baby carriers!) of a miserable sick baby, I'm beginning to feel like a sickie too.

the Traveling Kozy in Oregon

we took it on a daytrip outside the Portland Metro yesterday...

Multnomah Falls

Latourell Falls


next week, we're taking the Traveling Kozy to the beach!

poa pratensis

This was the "final Jeopardy" clue last night: poa pratensis is the plant one state in the US is most commonly known for. Closet botanist that he apparently is, Mr. Hyde ran out of his room yelling it was Kentucky Bluegrass! Mo and I nearly fell on our asses when Alex came back and told the contestants, none of whom answered correctly, what it was. This kid is a riddle inside a mystery, wrapped in an enigma. *sigh* HOW does he know this stuff? And WHY does he maintain a 2.0 GPA, when he obviously has the intelligence and memory-capacity to do so much better?!?!?

I've caught myself telling him how much potential he has, and how he's throwing it away. Yuk!!! I got that line from my parents, so did Mo. Doesn't work. EVER. So, when I'm capable of rational thought while discussing his abysmal performance at school, I tell him it's about choices. I want him to be able to choose to go to college, and choose which one he'll go to, to choose what he'll do for the rest of his life. I want HIM to choose his destiny. Isn't that something every parent wants? But this is the kid who has always pushed me away, from the moment he was born prematurely he's been pushing me away, trying to do things HIS way. I guess in some way he's going to have to figure this out for himself too, and all I can do is love and support him, in spite of my fears and concerns (valid or otherwise).

Tonight, he'll be running in his first High School Track meet. A relay, and the 3,000 meter. Why do I feel like all I've ever done is watch him run?

cooking up a storm

I just posted a bunch of recipes over at Sweet Juniper in response to Wood's plea for some... which in turn reminded me that one of my goals for this blog was to record what we've been eating on a regular basis (along with the recipes), for reference later on in my life. This is because I've noticed that over the years, some recipes become weekly standbys for a while, then for whatever reason I just drop them & they wind up relegated to limbo. It's the same thing that happens to me with friends, I guess. I'd like to figure out why this happens.

Last night's dinner was easy because we had some leftover red snapper and salmon that had been cooked in basil butter on Saturday night. All I had to cook was some white rice, the green beans (before they spoiled), and heat up the previously cooked-and-frozen PRican Navy beans. Not bad, as far as weekday meals go. I got a wild hair and decided to cook the green beans the same way we like to cook our asparagus: in the toaster oven, drizzled w/ extra-virgin olive oil, salt & pepper, at 500º for about 10 minutes. Eeeeeasy, fast and crunchy.

Mo will eat pretty much anything, as long as he feels full when he's done. His requirements are fairly straightforward and simple. Unlike me. I need at least one meal a day that appeals to all my senses (and sensibilities). Color, aroma, texture... I've often compared the experience of cooking and eating to making love. I'm looking for sensory overload in order to feel satiety. Mr. Hyde has grown up in this kind of food-obsessed environment and is quite the food critic already. As a baby, he ate so heartily and so much, there were times when I'd joke that someday he was going to take a bite out of me.

My problem now is El Niño. He isn't picky per se, just very particular about what he likes and doesn't like. Add to that the typical independence of the 20-month-old who wants to feed himself, throw in a few food allergies, and it's a freaking miracle that he manages to eat anything at all. Most of the rice and beans I gave him last night wound up all over his clothes, high chair, and the floor. He wouldn't even look at the fish, and didn't touch the green beans. Tonight I'm planning to make a whole roasted lemon-chicken, which I know he'll eat because he loves roasted meats (not smushy ones, like in soup or stews). My dilemma now is what to make to go with the chicken. The last time I made stuffing as a side, he didn't eat it. I could make the stuffing for us and give the baby some leftover rice... but I hate not giving him the same stuff we're eating. Part of my child-rearing "philosophy" is that children should always have the occasion/opportunity to eat the same things their elders do, so they're not always eating chicken nuggets and hot dogs. I'm always irritated by people who say this or that food is too "good" to give to children... WTF? How are they going to develop a taste for it, if they never eat it? So, maybe I'll give him a little of both and see what happens.

It's also a challenge to cook *with* a baby who will not be distracted easily. Sometimes I have to strap him into one of the carriers we have and put him on my back or hip so I can cook, if Mo and Mr. Hyde aren't home to help keep him busy and I'm gonna be a while in the kitchen. Maybe that's why it's been a while since I've made the more complicated and yummy dishes in my repertoire, like asopao or arroz con pollo. Now that I think of it, I've never made lasagna for Mo, even though we both love it and it used to be one of my special-occasion dishes. Must. plan. to. cook. lasagna. SOON!
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Roasted Lemon Chicken

Preheat oven to 375º

1 whole chicken
basil, tarragon or sage (pick one, each has a very distinctive taste that complements chicken & lemon very well)
salt & pepper to taste, or Goya adobo (seasoning salt)
1 lemon, or 1/2 cup ReaLemon (I hardly ever plan meals well enough to have fresh lemons on hand)

Clean the chicken, trimming excess fat from the cavity areas, any feather quills and bits of skin & giblets left behind in the processing plant. Put chicken in the roasting pan you'll cook it in. With your fingers, gently separate the skin from the breast meat. If using a whole lemon, wash thoroughly then prick it all the way around with a fork and insert in the chest cavity. If using the ReaLemon, try to coat the chicken with it, get it under the skin (a baster helps with this), inside the cavity... Then season w/ salt & pepper or adobo, tucking some of the seasoning under the skin as well as rubbing it on the outside of the skin. Also tuck whichever herb you picked under the skin, over the breast meat. Cook in oven for 90 - 105 minutes. Check throughout the cooking period and baste the chicken in its rendered juices a couple of times after the first half hour. Once removed from the oven, allow the chicken to rest for at least ten minutes before carving. Oh, if you cook it with the lemon inside the chest cavity, remove the lemon *immediately* after you take the chicken out of the oven.

(this recipe is my adaptation of Sally Schneider's recipe that appears in The Art of Low-Calorie Cooking)

International Women's Day

yup, it's today and I hope women who don't know why this day exists will read about it and not only appreciate that we've come a long way (baby!) but how far we still need to go. With the continuously-stoked "mommy wars" and the little progress that has been made in the areas of affordable health care, education & childcare, and the prevalence of violence towards women and children (in the US and worldwide) my prayer for today is that all of us, ALL of us who are human, will do a little something extra to advocate for real change and improvements. We owe it to ourselves and our children.

Read even more about it at Wikipedia, InfoPlease, and for an events schedule see your local news organization's website or check this official list.

venting

I am NOT a morning person, I never have been. I choose to go to our "late" service at church (10:30am) because trying to get out the door any earlier than that on a Sunday is an assault and outrage to my body and mind. However, our parenting class is taught every other Sunday at 8:30am and I am willing to make sacrifices for the sake of my family's happiness. By the time yesterday's class was over, I'd dug deep inside me and unearthed some stuff that rattled my spirit, so I was looking forward to the church service and the opportunity to nurse my weary soul (and body, and mind).

Turns out, no one was on the schedule to work in the Nursery during the 10:30am service. Since I have a 19mo child in there, I went ahead and took the extra shift to help out(I'm scheduled for the fouth Sunday of every month). Now, I've been to church conferences where the speakers actually ask people to ACT like Christians towards one another in the crowded parking lot as they leave, and I'm reminded of that every time I work in the church nursery. I need an extra measure of grace and patience towards my fellow parents on those days. See, my church is pretty loosey-goosey, not one of those places where people feel looked down upon and judged. Which is great and has brought a lot of healing to my heart, and to Mo's. But it also means some of the others in attendance are not always functioning at a "do unto others" level. So, yesterday was not a good day for me to be in the nursery...

Open letter to the other parents who use the Nursery

We love your children and hope they will enjoy being here while you participate in our service. However, in order for us to provide the BEST care for all the children who use the Nursery, please help us by:

1. bringing a snack and a bottle/sippy cup for your child so that they don't go after another child's snack or drink. This is especially important if your child has the appetite of a T-Rex and a habit of grabbing whatever he wants out of someone else's hands.
   
2. leaving only those things which are necessary for us to care for your child. This does not include your coat, parenting class materials or commuter mugs.
3. if your child is suffering from separation anxiety, please come in the room and sit with them for a little while before you leave. This will probably help them with the transition. By bringing them into the room and refusing to acknowledge that they don't want to stay, you are making them feel rejected and putting the nursery worker in charge of an overly distraught child, on top of the other children that are there with various needs for attention. One child wailing tends to upset the others and cause a domino effect of crying.
4. once you have left the room, please don't come back unless it's time to take your child home or change their diaper. Please do NOT come back for your cellphone, car keys, coat or checkbook. Your child will see you and want to go with you, and will most likely get very upset when you leave right away without them. If you just want to check on them, we have a very nice one-way window for you to look in from the hallway.
5. taking a minute to talk to the nursery workers about your child before and after dropping them off. Our nursery workers are other parents, just like you. They may have questions for you or have something important to tell you, especially after observing them play with others (or not) for two hours.
   

the unbearable gravity of being

I made pork roast, white rice and beans tonight for dinner. It doesn't get any more PuertoRican than that, unless you fry something...

Cooking has been my refuge for years. I learned to cook when I was eight, because my mother stopped cooking after my parents' divorce and I quickly got sick of eating canned or frozen dinners. I never learned to sew, crochet or knit but early on, I kicked ass in the kitchen. It was not only something I could do for survival but also to please and impress others. And it was something I could control, I could control amounts and outcomes in a way that I've hardly ever been able to control other aspects of my life. When I'm stressed, I cook. Something that requires lots of chopping and paying close attention to what I'm doing. That way, I can stop thinking. Except when I can't, and then things don't turn out right. Like tonight. For whatever reason, my energy "flow" perhaps, nothing on my stove cooked in the amount of time that it should've. We actually ate our dessert first, and even then the roast wasn't cooked, the rice came out a little crunchy and the squash in the beans needed about another hour to be edible... *sigh*

So, why am I stressed? A little over a week ago, Mo and I came home to find our 14-year-old, now Mr. Hyde, had run away. He wasn't home and his backpack was gone with him. It was obvious that he wasn't planning on coming back home that night. He left a garbled message on the answering machine, so I had reason to hope that he hadn't done something extremely stupid and dangerous. I cried my eyes out and then, when I was too exhausted to keep crying, found a recent picture to take to the police, if we got to the point where we decided we had to get an Amber Alert put out. How did it come to this? When did we become such horrible people that our son can't stand to live with us?

He's home now and we're seeing a therapist to work on the anger and rebellion, and the family dynamic that is NOT working for any of us. Mo and I are also taking a Parenting Class at church, based on the "love and logic" principles. I'm also planning to read up on Alfie Kohn's Unconditional Parenting approach to see what we can use to benefit ALL four boys. But right now it feels like we have a big elephant in the middle of our living room, one that none of us know how to address...

Nothing in my life prepared me for this. I didn't know that I could bust my butt and try to do everything I thought was right, and my son could still be so angry at me, still feel so unloved that he'd be willing to chuck us out of his life. People constantly ask me if it's hard to have such a huge age gap between my sons and I always respond that no, it helps. It reminds me that the surly guy with questionable hygiene that I'm often at odds with was once my sweet baby. It reminds me that I've struggled for years to teach him and guide him and raise him up right and now is not the time to give up on him. No matter how much he fights me, I still need to teach him and guide him and nurture him. Even as I'm choking back tears or angry words. Even as I feel an ulcer spawning inside me.