Homemade Electrolyte Replacement Drink

AKA, Pedialyte.

I needed to mix up a batch tonight due to overdosing on vitamin C with the kiddos.

(No, they didn't eat a whole bottle of vitamins.  What happened was we switched brands of vitamins and Mama didn't notice that the new gummies are 500mg while the old ones were only 250mg apiece, so the kids got twice what they normally get.  Which probably would have been fine, if they hadn't also both chugged 4 little cups of OJ with lunch.  In case you didn't know, excess vitamin C gives you the poops.  Nothing dangerous.  But uncomfy.)

Anyway.  Dehydration can literally be a killer, especially when you're talking about little kids, so if you have kids in your life, are around kids, or may someday be around kids, please memorize the formula below.  It might really save a life.  Also, Pedialyte is really expensive, particularly when you figure out that it's really pretty much sugar-water with a bit of soda.  Here's the recipe from Aviva Jill Romm's book, Naturally Healthy Babies and Children:

8 oz water (warm or at room temperature)
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
Pinch of salt
2 tablespoons or more honey, sugar, or maple syrup.


Combine all ingredients.

That's it.  I made a quadruple batch in my juice carafe.  It tastes like slightly sweet water--you don't pick up on the baking soda and salt at all.  If you really wanted to flavor it, you could, I guess, but the idea is to be super-gentle on the stomach.  Don't give honey to kids under a year old, of course.

I'm serious about you memorizing it.  Tape it inside your kitchen cupboard door, maybe, or onto your salt canister.  You never know when you might need it--and you'll be wanting it sometime at 3am when everybody's puking and you can't leave them long enough to run to the store.

Now I should go to bed.

Cheers,

Breanna

Snatching Nap-time

To work in, I mean.  The kidlets are getting really good at staying in their rooms, at least, if not sleeping-- and they're sleeping a surprising amount.  I think it has really taken us this long to get in sync again from the move.

Anyhoo, I've got a collection of short stories coming out for Kindle at the end of August, so I've been working on those like a maniac while they sleep.  It's very hard, if you didn't know, to write fiction while children are awake anywhere in the house.

But I thought I'd share with you Miss Boo's take on getting herself a drink:

Her: I want to do it!  I want to get it myself!
Me (handing her the cup): Okay, you get the water.
Her (walking to the water dispenser in the fridge): Yes, I can do it because I'm big.  I'm just huge.

Considering her size, I don't think anyone will ever look at Miss Boo in her life and think "huge".  But hey.  Go for that independent water-getting!

She also, having adapted the title from a shoe commercial, gave herself the nickname "Sporty Shorty", which seems a bit more appropriate.

Cheers,

Breanna

The Little Grey Cells

Lately the Husband and I have been doing this experiment of getting the kids to fall asleep in their own little beds, while Mom and Dad sit in the next room doing...Mom and Dad things.  It's refreshing.

(No, it wouldn't have worked until now.  Miss Boo had to attain to the ability to reason through "I have to stay in bed now.  Mom will still help me if a sea monster comes in the window or bats sneak into my closet.  And in the morning I can have a story."  We just got there, like last month.)

Anyway, we can only do the sort of Mom and Dad things that the kidlets can overhear while they fall asleep so, you know, watching Alien vs. Predator is pretty well out.  Instead, we've been having fun recording the Agatha Christie Poirot mysteries on Masterpiece Mystery on our local PBS.  I know, I know, we have a DVR and we use it for PBS, but really, the costuming is beautiful.

Anyway again, Poirot's little catch phrase is to talk about his "little gray cells", a.k.a. his brains.  And brains are important.

This is a lady Grammy and I discovered through T-Tapp, who happens to be a Christian and a mother of 12 (!) kids.  Her "getting smaller" story is inspiring, but more so are her thoughts on homekeeping and especially the mental battle that women face.  What struck me today was her note that unhappy people think and talk mostly about what they don't have.

Now we're not preaching some stupid, "think it and get it!" theology or The Secret or anything like that.  What I'm talking about is taking every thought captive for Christ.  Did you know you're the boss of your thoughts, as Miss Boo would put it?  In other words, you don't have to be irritated, upset, saddened, hurt, offended, mad, or any of those other unpleasant feelings.

That's right.  Just because your alarm didn't go off and you had to rush this morning, you don't have to stay irritated and frazzled all day.  You can decide you're not going to think that way, and use your will to set your mind on other things.  (Failing all else and unable to remember any other passages, you can always use "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, {edit: FAITHFULNESS} goodness, gentleness, and self-control."  Thank you, Steve Green, for your kid Scripture-memory songs, and Grammy, for painting it on your cabinets. :) )

Just because your kids have emptied an entire bag of rice on the floor or painted the dog's toenails or puked in the clean sheets you don't have to feel desperate and overwhelmed and angry.  You will still have the mess to deal with, yes, but you can decide to speak kindly even when you don't feel kind.

Remember Corrie Ten Boom, meeting the guy who was the concentration camp guard?  It was at a conference or something long after the war and he said something along the lines of, "Praise God, Miss Ten Boom, Who offers us such great grace" and held out his hand to shake hers.  Corrie said she was sure he didn't remember her--who had been one of thousands, to him--but she remembered him and for a moment couldn't move.  Certainly couldn't feel forgiveness.  So she prayed, "Lord, I don't want to forgive him.  So I'm just going to act as though I do forgive him, and You will have to supply the feelings" and shook the man's hand.  She said that God then gave her the emotion of forgiveness--after she performed the action.

Remember when Israel was coming into the Promised Land?  The priests had to step their feet into the water of the Jordan River before the river was dried up.  The Lord waited for them to demonstrate faith--then did the miracle.

Now forgiving a concentration camp guard or crossing the Jordan might seem much bigger things than overcoming the temptation to feel resentful toward your husband or children, but the same principle holds.  If you consistently find yourself in a snit, maybe it's time to admit that you can't maintain the right outer attitude while continuing to fondle your selfish, negative thoughts.

Change what needs to be changed--i.e., if it's your laundry that's discouraging you, then get up your gumption and do the dang laundry--but if it's something that can't be changed, i.e., that your husband's job just dictates he doesn't have a reliable home-getting time, then change the way you think about it or you will be miserable and it will be your own fault.

And think about Corrie, if you're not sure how to do that.  How would you act, in our little example, if your husband got home in the manner you want?  Just do what is right, and God will provide the miracle.

Cheers,

Breanna

No Offense, England

...but we were all grateful, here, today, that we are no longer a part of you.

Miss Boo wasn't quite sure what a king was, or why it would be a problem to have one.

Buddy really wanted to help me grill the burgers.  Really.  Really really.  He got worked up enough over his country's independence that he said "hey" to his father a couple of times, and correctly identified S--on my Sealy Posturpedic mattress-- as the letter that goes "ssssssssss".  (Item: it is weird to have a kid who is learning to read before he really likes to talk.  It's not a fluke, either--he did A the other day, too.  Pointing:  "MMMM.  Bama.  AAAAYYYYYYAAAAYYYY!"  I'm Bama, in case you didn't know.)

Littleman is...teething.  And we're pretty sure they're Tory teeth.  The cowards.  Miss Boo sweetly brought him her amber teething necklace, even though it really bothered her that he wouldn't keep it on straight (with the pendant pointing down).

And I am typing this at 9:39pm because, in Texas, everything is bigger--including the neighborhood fireworks.  My goodness.  It's my inner cheapskate coming out, but come ON.  The money people spend on these things.  I've seen fireworks displays for entire towns that pale in comparison.  It's difficult to be sympathetic with people who are feeling the recession but can still buy fireworks.  (And did I mention that nurses hate fireworks?  We do.  We try not to spoil everyone's fun.  But come on.  Keep your thumbs and eyeballs away from the gunpowder, please.)

On that cheery note, and thanking the Lord that everyone fell asleep in their own beds tonight, I will bid you adieu.

Happy Independence Day!

Breanna

That's Generosity

Miss Boo woke up at 4:30 because she needed to go potty.  We're trying to master this "Getting up to go potty but then going back to bed" thing, and it seems to be working.  While she was on her potty chair, I straightened out her bed, and she asked me if it was tomorrow night.

Me: No, it's very early in the morning.  It's still dark.
Her: Where's the sun?
Me: In some other part of the world.
Her (considers, as she climbs back into bed): I'm going to let those China kids have it.

So there you go, China.  Be grateful.

Cheers,

Breanna

Fail/Win

Momfail: Not figuring out until way past bedtime last night that all Miss Boo needed to stay happily in her own bed until she fell asleep was not rocking, stories, stern talk, or Lambie.  It was having her lamp on.  Boom.  Sleep City.

Momwin: Both kids slept past 7am this morning.  Ye-ah.

Cheers,

Breanna

P.S.

May I say that if someone insists their kids never have/had sleep issues, they might be telling the truth--or they might be unable to remember, or creatively defining "sleep issues".  At least, I sure hope that's the case.

Book Review - Making It: Radical Home-Ec

So I bought this book the other week when, as Amazon fully knows you will, you go, "ah, I only need three dollars to get free shipping, hm...."

First off, do I think we'll ever get to a "post-consumer world"?  No, in the sense that I think capitalism is a law of nature.  That means, by the way, that I think it just IS the way that human economic interaction occurs--but of course, gravity is a law of nature too, and you can use gravity to hurt people.  Everyone's still responsible for any sins that use and abuse of economics leads them into.  End of digression; I bought this book not because I hate Nestle, Monsanto, and Google, but because I get tired of paying two bucks a bottle for salad dressing.

This book tells you, in delightfully snarky style, how to make just about everything.  Like how to turn an Altoids mint can into an oil lamp.  (Think about it, and I bet you can figure it out.  Turns out regular string or shoelaces work for a wick, too.)  I was pleased to find that salt and olive oil make a fine exfoliating scrub/engine grease hand scrub, that you can shave with olive oil, that I am not the only weirdo to make mead under my bathroom sink, that I can make my own vinegar from stuff I have in the house right now, and so on.

I made my own laundry detergent--turned out great, works awesome in my HE washer.

I made my own mustard.  Lovely.  Going to make harissa (Moroccan hot sauce) next.  Think I'll wait on the Japanese rice bran pickles, which sound a bit oogy.

In case of zombie attack the book also includes chapters on "Making Soap the Hard Way" and how to build your own composting toilet.  Remember, I said I'm considering those in the event of zombies.  So don't come to my house looking for the ash hopper and the milk-crate-bucket-toilet, please, just use the regular facilities and enjoy washing up with Dr. Bronner's castile soap while civilization lasts.

If you like DIY-ing, this is the book to get.  It's really practical, very frugal, and geared to people who don't have forty acres and access to old-school tools.  Its sourdough recipe, for instance, makes a whole lot more sense to me than Nourishing Traditions's sourdough.

(NT's can't be authentic. I just don't see miners taking the time to lovingly nourish a starter for seven days, never letting the delicate thing touch metal, and then having to use almost all of it for bread that takes eight or so hours to rise.  Forgive me if I'm wrong, but it seems like most 49'ers were a bit more impulsive.)

Some of the projects are only valuable if you absolutely want control over ingredients in your products.  For instance: making soap.  Their "Making Soap the Easy Way" requires a glass blender pitcher, a can of drain opener (lye), and olive oil.  Which means that instead of buying soap, you'll buy olive oil and lye.  Which is fine, if you absolutely have to know what's in your soap, but which is a bit silly otherwise--you're not really buying less, you're just buying different.  But that's more of a philosophical flaw; their soap recipe is about the easiest I've come across, too.  (Don't worry, I won't be keeping any lye in the house as long as I have little kids running around.)

So, if you're at all into what's becoming "Radical" - making your own stuff - give it a gander.  It's a fun book to have.

Cheers,

Breanna

P.S.  In Montana I could never buy lye in the grocery store--I checked one time, to run a numbers crunch to refute an internet person who insisted they saved all kinds of money on soap by making their own with lard and lye.  They don't sell it in stores in Montana because people use it to make unhealthy street drugs.  Apparently in Texas they don't care and they sell it right on the shelf with the Drano.  So... weird, but I proved my point that you actually won't save much money unless you are comparing to the fancy "natural" soap.