Tag Archives: babies

Pumpkin Spice Baby Food

Ok, I’m about to get Pinterest-y up in here. Or rather, to get Pinterest-y on behalf of my husband, who invented this recipe.

We’ve been venturing back into making our own baby food, because the twins currently eat 21 cups (!) worth of baby food a week. Oof, my budget. Anyway, it’s a lot of fun to invent recipes for them, and my husband, M, made this one as a poke at me for my love of fall Pumpkin-spice goodness.

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Here’s the recipe:

-8 cups cubed pumpkin (go ahead and take out your life frustrations on a pumpkin, or find some frozen, if you can)

-1 tsp vanilla
-1 apple, your choice of variety
-1 tbsp nutmeg
-1 tbsp cinnamon
-1 tbsp ginger

  1. Cook the pumpkin – M. boiled it, but he recommends roasting it instead. Either way, cook it until the texture is a bit mushy. (*See roasting instructions below.)
  2. If you boil it, reserve the water to thin the mixture later and add back some vitamins!
  3. Add filtered water (if roasted) or pumpkin water (if boiled) to thin, and food process/blend.

Optional: You can add a pear or more apple  if it’s not sweet enough for your baby (it won’t be very sweet, but we’re trying to train the babies away from needing sweets at every meal).

*Roasting: preheat oven to 425, then place pumpkin on a baking sheet and roast until they are tender when pierced with a knife tip, 30-45 minutes.

The twins love it. img_8522img_8523

Happy Fall, Y’all!

The Twins’ Birth Story: Part 1

Part 1: 

Our story begins at 35 weeks pregnant and already extremely over it. I couldn’t sit down comfortably for very long, couldn’t stand comfortably, and waddled when I tried to walk. M and I knew that the writing was on the wall for our having date time, so as we enjoyed a leisurely Sunday morning sipping coffee on our patio and chatting, I mentioned that I would love to visit the ocean together. M suggested we head to Kemah, a mysterious beachy-tourist town in Texas that I’d never been to. During the hour long drive there, I felt a little stiff and a bit extra achy, but assumed it was just more random side effects of being that pregnant. It wasn’t until M dropped me off to search for parking that I realized that something different was happening.

I hadn’t noticed any Braxton-Hicks contractions during my pregnancy, and I really didn’t know what a contraction felt like. But I started trying to time these weird sensations I was having- and I was so very inaccurate (as it turned out). After a minute of making weird faces, I texted M to get his butt back to me and not worry about parking, as I didn’t think we’d be staying.

We actually managed to dart over to the end of a pier before driving back into Houston to the hospital. Standing and looking at the waves with my love, I felt calm- but also like I might drop a watermelon from between my legs at any time. Off we went.

On the hospital admitting floor, I was surprised to find that I was 4cm dilated, and definitely contracting- part of me had kind of thought that I was being a hypochondriac. But no, I was promptly admitted. I felt a little bit better about nearly falling on the floor while trying to check in, and circling the “ARHGDHDGJHDGJHG” face on the pain scale. I got a wheelchair ride to the laborin’ floor. 

We texted the doula, but she was sick and said she’d send an assistant. L turned out to be an early 20-something, sweet girl- not quite the birth expert I’d paid for. But I digress. At least she brought lavender oil and heat packs- those made life nicer. 

I’ve never had so many people shove their hands up in my stuff before-  repeated checking to see if I was dilating any further had me wanting to kick a couple of the residents. Not everyone is equally good at those checks. I’m looking at you- short-haired female resident! 

But the main issue was the fetal monitors. I had been hoping to walk around, sit on a birthing ball, take baths, etc. But because there were two babies, I had to have two full sets of monitors on me, and neither were the wireless kind (those apparently can’t be used if you need two of them). I was tethered to the bed, and could only pace a bit nearby unless I wanted to break rules and take off the monitors. When the nurses put a separate pulse monitor on me, I nearly punted one of them. Oh, and I nearly forgot- I hadn’t had the bacteria test thing done yet (because: only at 35 weeks), so I had to have an IV on me pumping me with antibiotics just in case. Y’know, so I didn’t give crotch-monkeys to the babies. 

(Honestly, Baby A was so far down that nobody seemed able to get the monitor to stay on him anyway. The constant poking and prodding and rearranging the monitors was the worst part of the whole thing.)

M and I tried to watch episodes of The Great British Baking Show on iPhone between my contractions, because that was about all my poor brain could handle. The assistant doula napped on the window seat while Not A Lot happened. 

Somewhere in the middle of this, M’s mom arrived with our hospital bags- just in time for me to get another dilation check. I kinda flustered a bit about the idea of having family members see my “business”, so M wound up encouraging her to leave. She offered to pick up my little geriatric dog Mei from our house, and dog sit her- and then she cleared out so I could wave my bits in the doctors’ faces in relative peace. 

But I  wasn’t getting any more dilated, just hungrier and more fatigued. Eventually, I was allowed to take a break from the monitors to get in the bath tub- which had lovely jets, but a nonfunctioning drain. I shoved my heel into it and tried to, y’know, earth mama my twins out into the world. 

Doc made another appearance and told me that it seemed like my contractions had stalled and, indeed, not much was happening. This was the first time I heard that I might be discharged, and I was like “Really? I have to do this again in the future? I have to go back to work tomorrow?” 

When Doc finally made the call that I would be going back home, M went and got us McDonald’s breakfast sandwiches- because that was what was open in the medical center at 4am. Until recently, I hadn’t been to McDonald’s in more than a decade. That morning, it was one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. 

So we went home. We didn’t go to work that day- we dozed on the couch and decompressed a bit, and grumbled and fussed. We didn’t see any more action for two whole weeks. 

Continued in Part 2! 

My crazy morning

Hello again, after so very long. I have so much to update. Here’s the short and dirty version:

M and I got married. I became a stepmom to A+C. We bought a house. I got pregnant. We had the twins, C2+F.

So I overslept this morning because I was just feeling worn out- hit the snooze until seven, and then bolted upright in a panic, because I needed to drive the twins to their aunt’s and then get myself to work. I really, really wanted to nurse the twins, but they weren’t screaming so I focused on getting myself ready and out the door. Coffee. Pumping supplies for work. Glance at the twins’ bag, hoping it was filled with the right things. A bagel for me. No time to shower. Twins in the carseats, and go! Around then my boobs started leaking like crazy. Fine, nursing pads. Keep driving. Thinking about how the reason I am doing the morning dropoff is because I have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, and this means I will only have four hours at work today. Whether that’s enough to meet a deadline or not, I don’t know. But I am definitely behind on work this week (and I have work to do!) because I leave at 4 to pick up the twins every day- it takes me about 3 hours, round trip, thanks to the Houston flooding, and the beast that is the Sam Houston Tollway/290 circuit.

I finally make it to work around 9:30, but I have to go to the bathroom so badly I’d considered pulling over while driving. My boobs start to leak again. I am getting Skype messages from co-workers asking for things, but I need to pump before I do anything, so I don’t even sit down at my desk. I just run for the pumping room, fumbling with the parts while milk drips onto my laptop and the table, and runs down my chest.

I sit. I breathe. I wish I’d had time to shower and spend some snuggling time with the babies. Happy Thursday.