It's an unusual weekend around here. JoyDad is off in North Carolina, celebrating the newly-minted PhD earned by his sister, Auntie Running-at-the-Mouth. We're all mighty proud of her! but Joy and Rose and I get to be proud from a distance.
Rose especially is missing her daddy, so I've tried to add some extra fun to the weekend. One of the fun things we did Friday night was to make an unusual meal, a meal beloved by the female contingent of our little household, but of which JoyDad isn't a great fan (and especially not for dinner): Eggy Bake.
Eggy Bake is a dish I learned way back in high school at a service-week I did with some other volunteers in Ontario one summer. Very simple, all the ingredients are household staples, and you serve it hot with maple syrup. The name I learned it by is Aggkaka, a Scandinavian title and treat -- but the name just sounds so gutteral and scatological, I just couldn't bring myself to call it that with the kiddos.
However, Rose was on the ball. "Is it really called Eggy Bake?" she asked while devouring her portion, having glanced at my recipe and noticed another title. "No," I fessed up, "the real name is Aggkaka. But I call it Eggy Bake because 'Aggkaka' doesn't sound so great."
"Aggkaka? Why doesn't that sound great?" she persisted.
Oh sh..., I mean, crap, that is, caca! I wasn't planning this vocabulary lesson!
"Well honey, in some languages 'kaka' with a K means 'cake,' like in Swedish I think. But in other languages like Spanish, 'caca' with a C means... poop."
Her eyes opened a little wider. "Oh," she said, "I think I'll keep calling it Eggy Bake too, then."
Down at the other end of the table, her younger sister was inhaling her own serving with delight (and independently with her fork!) Between bites, we suddenly heard Joy's comment on the situation:
"Uggh...ka...ka!"
========
Here's my Aggkaka / Eggy Bake recipe, exactly the same as I found it on this website when I went scouting around to confirm that people really do call it "Aggkaka":
2 T. butter
3 eggs
2 c. milk
1 c. flour
2 T. sugar
1 t. salt
Melt 2 T. butter in a 9x9 baking dish at 425 degrees. For batter, beat the rest of the ingredients together. Pour batter into the hot butter. Bake 20-30 minutes or until set and golden brown. It will fall when you take it out -- don't worry!
Serve warm with syrup. Serves 4 (but 3 hungry JoyFamily ladies can polish it off no problem).
Showing posts with label poop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poop. Show all posts
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
The Mosquito Days of Summer
I think we're in what might colloquially be called the "dog days" of summer. It's been an unusually warm week, with unusual humidity, an energy-sapping combination. And then to add injury to lethargy, along came swarms of mosquitoes. I'm surprised that the wretched level of mosquito-ness didn't arrive earlier in the summer, as wet as it's been around here. But we suddenly hit plague level about a week and a half ago, where even a solid soaking in repellent didn't keep the critters at bay for me.
When I go out to the garden to harvest (beans, cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers!) I put on lots of hot clothing -- jeans, long sleeves, a hat. In this weather! but that's the only thing that helps the Deet enough to keep me from being sucked dry.
Fortunately Joy isn't quite so susceptible, and doesn't get bit much if she's got on a good coat of Off. It's more important for her, though, because she doesn't have the self-control to keep herself from scratching the bites. So if she gets bit on the legs, that translates to open sores, and then she has to wear long pants to keep herself from further injury. In this weather!
One thing that's been very nice in this weather, and that's been swimming at the public pool. Last summer the weather just did not cooperate, plus it was a challenge to keep tabs on Rose while keeping a constant eye on Joy. We only made it to the pool a couple of times all summer. This time around, we've been to the pool three times since last report!
The most recent pool run was this evening, just me and the girls. A warm humid day, but the pool felt wonderful, and the mosquitoes apparently don't venture that far out over chlorine or something. Rose has gotten so self-sufficient, now that she's gotten so much better at swimming and is willing to do the slide on her own. This evening she ran into a friend from last year's after-school program, and they had a happy time together.
Meanwhile, Joy was building on her breath-holding skills. Last time I reported that she was voluntarily submerging and popping back up. This time she was going under for 2-3 seconds at a shot, and was propelling herself down to touch the red line on the bottom of the pool that marked the 3ft depth. Swimming! and experimenting! She also made some forays where she tried to sit down on the line rather than put a hand on it.
I still have to watch her like a hawk, because I want to be aware when she goes under. Also have to try to catch her if she's going to fill a swim-diaper...
No quarter yet, by the way. But the laxative is working -- got to look for that coin four times today. And I did find a pink sequin as a consolation prize.
When I go out to the garden to harvest (beans, cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers!) I put on lots of hot clothing -- jeans, long sleeves, a hat. In this weather! but that's the only thing that helps the Deet enough to keep me from being sucked dry.
Fortunately Joy isn't quite so susceptible, and doesn't get bit much if she's got on a good coat of Off. It's more important for her, though, because she doesn't have the self-control to keep herself from scratching the bites. So if she gets bit on the legs, that translates to open sores, and then she has to wear long pants to keep herself from further injury. In this weather!
One thing that's been very nice in this weather, and that's been swimming at the public pool. Last summer the weather just did not cooperate, plus it was a challenge to keep tabs on Rose while keeping a constant eye on Joy. We only made it to the pool a couple of times all summer. This time around, we've been to the pool three times since last report!
The most recent pool run was this evening, just me and the girls. A warm humid day, but the pool felt wonderful, and the mosquitoes apparently don't venture that far out over chlorine or something. Rose has gotten so self-sufficient, now that she's gotten so much better at swimming and is willing to do the slide on her own. This evening she ran into a friend from last year's after-school program, and they had a happy time together.
Meanwhile, Joy was building on her breath-holding skills. Last time I reported that she was voluntarily submerging and popping back up. This time she was going under for 2-3 seconds at a shot, and was propelling herself down to touch the red line on the bottom of the pool that marked the 3ft depth. Swimming! and experimenting! She also made some forays where she tried to sit down on the line rather than put a hand on it.
I still have to watch her like a hawk, because I want to be aware when she goes under. Also have to try to catch her if she's going to fill a swim-diaper...
No quarter yet, by the way. But the laxative is working -- got to look for that coin four times today. And I did find a pink sequin as a consolation prize.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Money Hungry
A week ago Thursday, Joy's day had an unusual little glitch.
It involved one of Joy's fine-motor practice tasks, putting coins into her mission-bank from church. The bank is a globe-shaped receptacle to help kids save their coins for denominational projects (we've helped dig wells in Haiti, and support an orphanage in Benin). For Joy to practice dropping the coins in the slot, an adult gets the small stash of quarters out from the base of the bank and gives them back to her to drop in.
In general, she's gotten very good at it. But a week ago Thursday, she tried a new innovation. With one of the quarters, instead of putting it in the bank, she put it into her mouth.
I bet you can guess where it went from there. Her babysitter said that the look on her face as it went down the hatch was priceless! She was so not expecting to consume that coin.
We've not been particularly worried, having seen no particular ill effects. We did call the doctor, and they pretty much told us to watch for the quarter's exit -- and we probably don't need to worry as long as we don't see any signs of discomfort, lack of appetite, coughing, etc. She's continued to eat well, and doesn't seem distressed.
I guess we maybe should've been addressing Joy's constipation issue before this happened? It makes it... how shall I say... challenging to determine whether she's successfully gotten this thing out of her system or not. We have not yet observed its passage, four... erm... movements later. It's possible that we missed it. I guess if it doesn't show up soon, we'll have to call the doc again.
Poor kid, coins and cherry bombs. I'm amazed that she still enjoys food at all.
It involved one of Joy's fine-motor practice tasks, putting coins into her mission-bank from church. The bank is a globe-shaped receptacle to help kids save their coins for denominational projects (we've helped dig wells in Haiti, and support an orphanage in Benin). For Joy to practice dropping the coins in the slot, an adult gets the small stash of quarters out from the base of the bank and gives them back to her to drop in.In general, she's gotten very good at it. But a week ago Thursday, she tried a new innovation. With one of the quarters, instead of putting it in the bank, she put it into her mouth.
I bet you can guess where it went from there. Her babysitter said that the look on her face as it went down the hatch was priceless! She was so not expecting to consume that coin.
We've not been particularly worried, having seen no particular ill effects. We did call the doctor, and they pretty much told us to watch for the quarter's exit -- and we probably don't need to worry as long as we don't see any signs of discomfort, lack of appetite, coughing, etc. She's continued to eat well, and doesn't seem distressed.
I guess we maybe should've been addressing Joy's constipation issue before this happened? It makes it... how shall I say... challenging to determine whether she's successfully gotten this thing out of her system or not. We have not yet observed its passage, four... erm... movements later. It's possible that we missed it. I guess if it doesn't show up soon, we'll have to call the doc again.
Poor kid, coins and cherry bombs. I'm amazed that she still enjoys food at all.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Assault with a Stinky Weapon
Perspective is a valuable gift.
Because of the presence of Joy in our lives, Rose and I had the tools to cope with what would otherwise have been a ridiculously overwhelming incident yesterday. (Poor Rose actually was quite overwhelmed at first, and with good reason.)
I got a call from Rose's first-grade teacher yesterday afternoon. She prefaced the conversation with the heart-stopping words, "We've had a bad accident...." Clutching the edge of my desk, I forced myself to breathe as I awaited word on the extent of Rose's injuries, and which emergency room I would be visiting shortly. Fortunately it was nothing like that! Here was the account:
Just before gym class, Rose had to make a quick trip to the bathroom. There was only one other child in there, in another stall. As Rose was washing her hands, the other child (a kindergartener with special needs) came bursting out of the stall with her knickers around her ankles and her hands full of poop. She ran at Rose, smeared some of the poop on Rose's shirt, and then threw the rest into the sink.
It sounds like my poor kiddo felt sadly assaulted, violated even. Poop is unpleasant stuff, and she hadn't done anything to this girl to earn any kind of retaliation whatsoever. Fortunately her teacher was able to soothe her, get the soiled shirt off and change her into her art smock -- a bright old tie-dye T-shirt of mine, that went quite well with her hot-pink leggings!
From Rose I learned that after gym class the kindergartener was brought to her to apologize, both with a note and a verbal "so..." accompanied by the "sorry" ASL sign. (She apparently has quite a few signs but very few spoken words.) When Rose told me about the incident as I picked her up from her after-school program, she did so without tears and told me that "the girl had a disability and doesn't always understand." I went ahead and verbalized the connection with Joy, reminding Rose that Joy wears onesies so she doesn't play with her own poop, and asking if Rose remembered seeing Joy smearing poop before. Yes, she certainly did remember.
My Mama-Bear persona is more than a little concerned about why this kindergartener was in the bathroom with no adult in attendance!
The Special-Needs Mama side of me, though, is more than a little aware that... well, poop happens. Unexpectedly sometimes. You think a skill is learned, or that boundaries are in control, and then whammo.
I did drop Rose's teacher an e-mail of thanks for the phone call and taking such good care of Rose in the wake of the incident, bringing gentle attention to the idea that "bad accident" was perhaps not the right term to use at the start of the call, and also including a line about being sure that a flurry of strategizing was underway about how to prevent any such future occurrences...
It's quite an experience to be on the other side of the special-needs mama / neurotypical mama divide for this incident. What a priceless perspective!
Rose, meanwhile, benefits immeasurably from that perspective and understanding as well. While a small bump on the head later in the evening (she ran into our birdfeeder en route to the car to go to piano class!) brought a few extra tears and feeling sorry for herself, she was in good spirits by bedtime, and slept peacefully through the night. As did I. And Joy too.
Because of the presence of Joy in our lives, Rose and I had the tools to cope with what would otherwise have been a ridiculously overwhelming incident yesterday. (Poor Rose actually was quite overwhelmed at first, and with good reason.)
I got a call from Rose's first-grade teacher yesterday afternoon. She prefaced the conversation with the heart-stopping words, "We've had a bad accident...." Clutching the edge of my desk, I forced myself to breathe as I awaited word on the extent of Rose's injuries, and which emergency room I would be visiting shortly. Fortunately it was nothing like that! Here was the account:
Just before gym class, Rose had to make a quick trip to the bathroom. There was only one other child in there, in another stall. As Rose was washing her hands, the other child (a kindergartener with special needs) came bursting out of the stall with her knickers around her ankles and her hands full of poop. She ran at Rose, smeared some of the poop on Rose's shirt, and then threw the rest into the sink.
It sounds like my poor kiddo felt sadly assaulted, violated even. Poop is unpleasant stuff, and she hadn't done anything to this girl to earn any kind of retaliation whatsoever. Fortunately her teacher was able to soothe her, get the soiled shirt off and change her into her art smock -- a bright old tie-dye T-shirt of mine, that went quite well with her hot-pink leggings!
From Rose I learned that after gym class the kindergartener was brought to her to apologize, both with a note and a verbal "so..." accompanied by the "sorry" ASL sign. (She apparently has quite a few signs but very few spoken words.) When Rose told me about the incident as I picked her up from her after-school program, she did so without tears and told me that "the girl had a disability and doesn't always understand." I went ahead and verbalized the connection with Joy, reminding Rose that Joy wears onesies so she doesn't play with her own poop, and asking if Rose remembered seeing Joy smearing poop before. Yes, she certainly did remember.
My Mama-Bear persona is more than a little concerned about why this kindergartener was in the bathroom with no adult in attendance!
The Special-Needs Mama side of me, though, is more than a little aware that... well, poop happens. Unexpectedly sometimes. You think a skill is learned, or that boundaries are in control, and then whammo.
I did drop Rose's teacher an e-mail of thanks for the phone call and taking such good care of Rose in the wake of the incident, bringing gentle attention to the idea that "bad accident" was perhaps not the right term to use at the start of the call, and also including a line about being sure that a flurry of strategizing was underway about how to prevent any such future occurrences...
It's quite an experience to be on the other side of the special-needs mama / neurotypical mama divide for this incident. What a priceless perspective!
Rose, meanwhile, benefits immeasurably from that perspective and understanding as well. While a small bump on the head later in the evening (she ran into our birdfeeder en route to the car to go to piano class!) brought a few extra tears and feeling sorry for herself, she was in good spirits by bedtime, and slept peacefully through the night. As did I. And Joy too.
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