I wonder how long it will take for all the preemie-mom vigilance to subside.
To be fair, a lot of my lingering watchfulness isn’t entirely unique to families with premature infants. I see many families with other extensive medical experiences caring about the same things.
But I still wonder. How much time will I need to allow between myself and way back when before I let it go?
Right now, Eleanor and Callista have a nasty cough. The virus itself isn’t terrible. Runny/stuffy noses, decreased appetite, interrupted sleep. The fact that all that is No Big Deal anymore is a Big Deal itself.
But while I say No Big Deal, I’m partially lying. Overall, it’s no big deal. We don’t go on lockdown anymore. I don’t break out my intake/outtake charts. Sanitizer bottles and cloths don’t appear on every table. But I’m watching their fluid intake like a hawk. I’m giving them random foods for meals, hoping they will eat something substantial enough to keep up with their desire to play as well as their need to get well.
Again, all fairly normal. No Big Deal.
Except I feel panicky when they pick at food and eat no more than a quarter of an apple for a full meal. I tally what I need to do for the next meal to help them make up the deficit in calories, fat, protein, fiber, vitamins, etc. And above it all, I’m watching their nearly forgotten water bottles and counting the number of times they use the bathroom, hoping that doesn’t start to drop.
And then I feel defeat when they cough so hard they vomit the little food and liquids for which I battled.
I know it’s a temporary struggle, these easy illnesses. My logical brain knows this, at least. My emotional brain has trained itself to do All Things Possible to avoid hospital time and is a totally different animal. No logic can convince that part of my brain that this is fine, that things will be fine.
And I wonder when the two parts of my brain will get along, if ever.
This week on We Still Read, I talked about reading ruts. It’s easy to fall off the book train when life gets busy, and it takes usually takes special books to suck me back into my favorite hobby.
The Sea of Tranquility was the book that revived me from my latest book slump, and I share my spoiler-free review.
On WSR this week are also book reviews from Jennie, Jacki and Andrea, plus some Harry Potter discussion and news. I’ve already added to my TBR list, and we haven’t even been running this blog for a week!
I’m not sure why I decided today was a fine day to hunt down a recipe for my first attempt at making granola bars, but I did. So I did. And, hey! Success!
My Pinterest search was fruitful, but I was low on ingredients (some of those recipes get crazy. On Pinterest. THAT NEVER HAPPENS.), so I chose a basic recipe and made some changes based on my pantry.
Soft and Chewy Granola BarsFrom Inspired TasteCreated By: Joanne and Adam GallagherYield: 12Ingredients
- 2 1/2 cups (230 grams) old fashioned rolled oats
- 1/2 cup (80 grams) whole almonds, coarsely chopped
- 1/3 cup (113 grams) honey
- 1/4 cup (56 grams) unsalted butter, cut into pieces
- 1/4 cup (50 grams) packed light brown sugar
- 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/2 cup (60 grams) dried cranberries, coarsely chopped
- 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons (67 grams) mini chocolate chips
MethodPrepare Oven and Pan
- Heat oven to 350 degrees F (177 degrees C). Line bottom and sides of a 8-inch or 9-inch square pan with aluminum foil. Then lightly oil or spray with cooking spray.
Toast Oats and Nuts
- Add oats and almonds to a small baking sheet then bake 5 minutes, stir and bake another 3 to 5 minutes until lightly toasted. Transfer to a large bowl.
Prepare Granola Bars
- Combine butter, honey, brown sugar, vanilla extract and the salt in a small saucepan over medium heat. Cook, stirring occasionally until butter melts and the sugar completely dissolves.
- Pour butter mixture in to bowl with toasted oats and almonds. Mix well. Let cool about 5 minutes then add cranberries and a 1/4 cup of the mini chocolate chips. Stir to combine.
- Transfer oat mixture to lined pan then use a rubber spatula or damp finger tips to firmly press the mixture into the pan.
- Scatter remaining 2 tablespoons of chocolate chips over pressed granola mixture then use a rubber spatula to gently press them into the top. Cover then refrigerate at least 2 hours.
- Remove block of granola mixture from pan then peel away aluminum foil. Cut into 12 bars.
- Store bars in an airtight container for up to one week. For the softest bars, keep at room temperature. For slightly harder bars, store in the fridge.
The original recipe wanted dried cranberries. The best match I had were whole, pitted prunes (thank you, toddler bathroom woes). The recipe wanted plain almonds. I had salted, roasted almonds. And hey, what’s that? Some salted, shelled sunflower seeds? Throw those in, too! Probably about 1/4 cup. Ooh. Ground flax seed would probably work in granola bars, right? Sure. Two tablespoons sounds good. No mini chocolate chips, so the regular chips would just have to do. I decided to add them all in rather than top with those big guys.
I followed the instructions but only toasted the oats because my almonds were already roasted. Meanwhile, I chopped about 10 prunes into bite-sized pieces and put my food processor to work on the whole almonds. With the oats ready, I mixed all the dry ingredients by hand to be sure no prune pieces stuck together. Stir in the melted butter/sugar/honey/vanilla mixture and … oh. All of my chocolate melted. Oh, well. Into the pan, then into the freezer for about an hour. After that, I moved them to the refrigerator, then I cut into small squares rather than bars – better for little hands to hold.
Verdict: Toby, Eleanor and Callista kept asking for more. The bars didn’t fall apart, but because my chocolate melted throughout the entire bar, the outside left behind a chocolatey mess. I could do without that to clean up after, but ETC sort of took care of it by sticking their fingers in their mouths. Whatever works, right?
If you’re keeping count, Taste: Success! Durability: Success! Cleanliness: Just teach them to lick their hands. They washed before eating, right? Mother of the year, folks!
Friends. I am SO excited about a new collaborative blog I just started working with. We Still Read is a new site run by four lovely mamas (Yes, I just called myself lovely. AND?), who somehow manage to still read while carrying on busy lives as wives, employees, mothers, etc., of the whopping nine offspring between us.
As avid readers, we all field the “How do you have time to read?” question frequently enough that we decided to share the how and why plus our unending hope for sucking everyone else into our world of book-loving madness.
We’ll be sharing reviews for books we read and books our kids read and some non-review, but always book-related musings along the way.
We may all rock popular names of the 70s and 80s (Andrea, Jacki, Jennie and Jenny), but our bookshelves don’t reflect our name similarities. I guarantee you’ll find something to read with us.
Wistful. Melancholy. Proud. Satisfied.
Toby is done breastfeeding. I once wondered how long he’d wake every night (19 months). I once joked that he’d breastfeed the night before kindergarten. He was my first to take a full feeding at the breast (and promptly sleep in the most epic milk coma I’ve witnessed) in NICU and my most consistent and efficient breastfeeding buddy.
Eleanor is still hanging on, breastfeeding one or two times a week. When she asked to nurse yesterday, Toby did, too.
It’s been three weeks, give or take, since he’d last asked. I hadn’t given up on him since Callista took a one-month break before her last nursing session. I thought we had another unscheduled date (and we still might, as Callista’s last time was during illness – she’d lost her latch skills but remembered when she was desperate). I don’t remember my last breastfeeding moment with Toby.
He tried to latch yesterday. He couldn’t figure out how. He whimpered and was frustrated and sad, tried a few more times then gave up.
“Please have snack?”
I readjusted us all (Eleanor had finished, so he didn’t need to try tandem nursing) and asked if he wanted to try again.
“No. Please have snack?”
And that was that.
(Toby stopped breastfeeding between 32 and 33 months of age and somewhere between 30 and 31 months actually breastfeeding, time adjusted due to prematurity.)
