Thursday, December 21, 2017

Review: Vibrant India

Indian cuisine, with its emphasis on beans, lentils, and a wide variety of vegetables, lends itself naturally to vegetarian and vegan diets. Curries, daals, dishes with heavy sauce and don't forget the naan...

But wait! There's much more to Indian food than the well-known dishes from the northern part of the country (some of which weren't even invented in India!). Chitra Agrawal wants to introduce home chefs to the glorious, diverse cuisine of Southern India, which is similar in some ways to what we already know and love but different in many others. Southern Indian dishes tend to be much heavier on rice and lentils than northern meals. Spice mixtures are different. Dishes use tamarind instead of green mango. Even the chai is made differently.

Vibrant India pays homage to the food Agrawal grew up with in Bangalore, adapted slightly as necessary for cooks in America. The pages of this gorgeous cookbook are full of exciting new recipes that are just begging to be made: curries (such as Karnataka Coconut Vegetable Curry), salads (Cucumber, Sprouted Mung Bean, and Pomegranate Salad), rice (Fragrant Eggplant and Green Pepper Rice), stews (Black-Eyed Peas, Greens, and Lentil Stew), sweets (Banana, Coconut, and Cardamom Ice Cream), and more. At the end, readers will find a chapter on DIY spice blends, and there are even instructions for making your own chutneys and pickles.

Scattered throughout the recipes are gorgeous (and delicious!) color photographs of some of the dishes, as well as artwork featuring animals and Indian motifs. Agrawal includes fun tidbits of family history, to help readers feel immersed in Indian culture and cuisine. Don't feel intimidated by the recipes; most look much more complex than they actually are, and once you've tried a few recipes, the methods and ingredient lists won't look nearly as daunting.

Vibrant India is a great cookbook for vegetarians, vegans, and omnivores alike. Get ready to try something new!

*****

I received this book from Blogging for Books in exchange for an honest review. The opinions expressed within are completely my own.

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

I’m a Millennial and I Suck at Holiday Magic



I can still remember what I consider to be my first “real” Christmas out on my own.

Our own, I should say. My husband and I had been married several years at this point, but we always celebrated Christmas with the families of our childhoods. We would spend Christmas Eve at his parents’ house, then do the Christmas morning festivities with his parents and brother. Later in the day, we’d go to my mom’s house for brunch and gift exchanging, and at some point later in the afternoon we’d return to my husband’s parents’ house again for dinner.

We used to live only about an hour away from everyone. But then my husband enlisted in the Navy, and suddenly we were spending Christmas in Illinois, a long plane ride away from anyone. We had gone on a trip to visit family earlier in the fall, but decided to stay home—our own home, the one we were making together—for Christmas.

In some ways, it was a lonely holiday, but we also enjoyed the freedom of not being bound by anyone else’s schedules. We had a tree—a real tree, my first live one ever—and we had decorated it with our meager collection of ornaments. We strung Christmas lights up around our balcony and above our table. I carefully wrapped a blanket around the tree stand, lacking a proper tree skirt, but for many weeks we had no presents to pile underneath.

And then we got some presents. My husband’s aunt and uncle sent us a box with a few goodies for each of us. We placed them ceremoniously under the tree, a handful of beautifully wrapped gifts and two tiny enveloped cards.

It was only a few days later that we opened those tiny cards. We knew this aunt and uncle always send money, you see. I no longer remember what we spent that money on, but opening it a week or so before Christmas was, unbeknownst to us at the time, a slippery slope. It wasn’t long before we opened the wrapped presents. After all, where was the harm in celebrating early? Why wait? The presents from my in-laws didn’t even all make it under the tree; some were opened as soon as we received their package, the rest within days of that. I don’t think we even bothered wrapping the gifts we got for one another.

Hello, my name is Holly. I’m a Millennial and I suck at Christmas.

A lot of people have a lot of bad things to say about Millennials. We’re bleeding heart liberals, snowflakes who can’t handle hearing or reading anything that might be even the least bit offensive. We need trigger warnings and safe places. We expect to be rewarded simply for showing up; we grew up with participation trophies. We need our mommies to do our laundry for us and to talk to our teachers about our bad grades and to negotiate job contracts.

Most of that is nonsense, of course. We Millennials are hardworking and honest, for the most part. We’re smart; many of us have one or more college degrees. We’re persistent and determined. We’re goal-driven and action-oriented. We believe in freedom and equality.

I grew up in an era of what some would scathingly call “political correctness.” Thus, I have no problem referring to December as the “holiday season;” I’m not offended by Starbucks’ annual red winter cups; I default to saying “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas.” I recognize that Christmas isn’t the only holiday celebrated in December, and I value being inclusive of others. I recognize that others might label me a snowflake for that (how seasonally appropriate!), but I don’t care. Christmas isn’t a religious holiday for me anyway. It’s not about an imaginary war on Christmas in particular; I just have no attachment to the word specifically.

As a person, I feel like I’ve accomplished a lot. I’ve been married for nearly a decade. I’ve given birth to two healthy children. I’ve owned a house. I’ve lived in several states and moved more times than I care to think about. But there are definitely some places where I feel like I’m failing as an adult. I’m terrible at housework. It often takes me days to fold laundry. Both my husband and I avoid taking out the trash until it’s no longer ignorable. Despite my best intentions, we usually don’t even eat meals at the table together on a regular basis. And I’m pretty bad at creating holiday magic for my kids.

For my older son’s first Christmas, it was just the two of us (Daddy was deployed). I didn’t even put up a Christmas tree. In the years since, we do Christmas… a little bit. There’s a tree, but rarely any other decorations. There’s a fancy meal, which we usually eat in our pajamas. There are stocking stuffers, but often we don’t actually put them in the stockings. Our son usually has a pretty good idea ahead of time of what presents we’re getting him: homemade pajama pants (he helps me pick out the fabric), a book, a toy or two.

This year, the “big” family present was a new gaming console. We bought it online over Black Friday weekend, and we opened it as soon as it arrived. My husband opened his big present as soon as it arrived, too. In November. We’re getting me a new phone, and I highly doubt that it’ll get wrapped and put under the tree, either. See what I mean? No surprises, and we can’t even be bothered to wait until Christmas to receive our presents.

It’s like we use Christmas as an excuse to buy a few shiny new things, but we care less about the actual day than we do about just getting and enjoying the gift.

It’s not that I don’t want Christmas to be magical. Growing up, my own mother decorated extensively for Christmas every year. I’d love to do the same: tinsel lining the bannisters, wreaths on the doors, dish towels with poinsettias, maybe even a special set of holiday china. My mom threw a giant holiday party every year, inviting neighbors and friends from school, her and my dad’s jobs, Girl Scouts, karate. I’d love to do the same once we have a house of our own, assuming I can get past my introvert tendencies. I’d love to go ice skating and offer my kids the opportunity to take pictures with some guy dressed up as Santa.

But somehow, we seem to struggle with overcoming our baser (lazier?) tendencies.  It’s just too much work. It requires too much forethought.

And I don’t know what the solution is, aside from pulling myself up by my bootstraps one of these years, developing some willpower, and just doing it. Keeping those holiday presents a secret. Finding time to go shopping for stocking stuffers alone (or opening the Amazon boxes at night, after the kids are in bed). Maybe my husband and I can actually shop for presents for one another, rather than just picking out a nice gift for ourselves. Maybe I’ll actually buy some tinsel and some proper stocking hangers. Maybe I’ll host that holiday cookie swap like I’ve always wanted to.

This year, however, I’ve got the excuse of a new baby. I don’t have time to decorate. I don’t have time for surprises and magic. Call it an excuse, but the magic just isn’t going to happen this year. Maybe next year we’ll manage to do Christmas “right.”

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Review: The Pediatrician's Guide to Feeding Babies & Toddlers

Many parents don’t realize just how complicated feeding young kids can be until they have a baby of their own. When should babies start solid foods? What are the best early foods? How do we minimize the risk of developing allergies?

pediatricians guide to feeding babies

These questions and many more are answered in The Pediatrician’s Guide to Feeding Babies & Toddlers, a compact guidebook written by a team headed by Anthony Porto and featuring pediatricians, dietitians, a lactation consultant, and a recipe developer.

This friendly, well-written book is divided into six main sections. The first five sections focus on particular time frames of child development0-3 months, 4-6 months, 7-8 months, 9-12 months, and toddlerswhile the sixth condenses many common medical concerns and questions into one concise chapter. Each developmental section talks about the basics of physical and cognitive development, answers some pointed questions, and gives guidelines for how much babies are generally eating. Each also offers a selection of recipes perfect for growing babies (or, in the case of the first section, perfect for lactating mamas and sleep-deprived new parents).

The first section, which focuses on the first three months, discusses both breastfeeding and formula-feeding relatively in-depth. While the authors make no secret of the fact that breastfeeding is the best option when possible, they also provide plenty of unbiased, non-judgmental information about using formula for families who need or choose to use it.

The second section is all about early solids, while the next few walk parents through the various stages of purees and finger foods that follow. While a number of readers will disagree with the book’s taciturn acceptance of starting solids as early as at four months old, this section and the ones following it are, overall, a well-balanced approach to the standard method of introducing a baby to solid foods. Parents will get advice on different stages of purees, including advice on making them at home, and every possible question is answered, including how to introduce them, what to look for when it comes to allergies, and even avoiding choking.

There is solid and standard nutritional information throughout, including nutrient guidelines and calories. Parents will love the recipes, which include simple single foods, intriguing blends, finger foods, and dishes for toddlers that the whole family will find themselves enjoying. These aren’t bland foods, either; the recipes are rich in complex flavors and spices that will get youngsters excited about “real” foods.

The final section really tackles the biggest medical concerns. While some of this information is discussed to varying degrees in other sections, parents who want to know more about constipation, eosinophilic esophagitis, reflux, celiac disease and gluten intolerance, allergies, and more will find their answers right here. There are also growth chartsboth CDC and WHOreference charts for avoiding allergies, and tables listing the RDAs of various nutrients for the different age groups.

There are some other elements of this book that some readers may disagree with, such as authors’ discomfort with baby-led weaning, their advice to seek a nutritionist before raising baby on “special” diets such as vegetarianism or paleo, and their stock-standard advice to start baby off with grains like oatmeal or rice, which many in natural parenting circles feel is harmful to the developing gut. Other readers may feel that a book like this only encourages the paranoia that for many surrounds baby feeding; introducing a baby to solids doesn’t need to be this complicated!

Still, the fact is that most parents do have a lot of questions about how to get their baby started with “real” foods, and The Pediatrician’s Guide to Feeding Babies & Toddlers does an admirable job of coming to the rescue. Readers will be reassured by the wide range of experience of the authorsall of whom are parents, tooand will enjoy the friendly tone and straightforward information. This is a practical book that many will learn a lot from.

*****

I received this book from Blogging for Books in exchange for an honest review. The opinions expressed within are completely my own.

Monday, June 12, 2017

An Rh Sensitized Pregnancy: Aftermath (Part 5)

At the end of it all, after all my worries about induction and further transfusions, my baby was born normally. Naturally. Spontaneously. (Well, mostly. I did have a membrane sweep.)

And four days prematurely.

After my son's birth, he spent some time with me, then was ultimately taken to the NICU. He was more or less fine at birth--clearly not anemic, no signs of shock, dealing great with the transition to being in the outside world. But because of my Rh sensitization, he would need monitoring for awhile.


Much of the next few days was a blur. I was recovering from birth, but despite my exhaustion, I barely slept that first night. Even without my baby in my arms, I was feeling the birth high! I eventually slept, but roused myself to use the breast pump every three hours or so. (I was determined to breastfeed! And determined that my baby would not drink a single drop of formula.) I visited the NICU frequently to see my little guy, and tried to nurse every time I was there.I slept as I could, and while I was sore, I never really needed pain medication of any kind.

I stayed in the hospital for two days, eating mediocre hospital food (although they get bonus points for having vegan options beyond side dishes!) and pumping and shuffling back and forth from the NICU to my lonely little room.

Coconut Baby, meanwhile, was in the NICU. Initial tests had shown his red blood cell count to be within the normal range, so he was definitely not anemic. His blood sugar was fine, although that'd be monitored for awhile due to my gestational diabetes diagnosis. Baby did, however, have an unknown quantity of my antibodies floating around in his system, and they were breaking down his cells at a faster than normal rate. The result? Jaundice. Baby's bilirubin count was very elevated, and still going up. At some point when I arrived for a visit in the NICU, he had been put on phototherapy, with two big sets of bili lights shining on him from above and a lighted blanket down underneath.

He had blood tests twice a day, to monitor his bilirubin level and RBC, as well as his blood sugar. He had to wear a little mask to protect his eyes from the phototherapy lights. He had an umbilical IV and a feeding tube, although for the first few days they switched him to IV nutrients (as opposed to my milk; instead, I steadily built up a stash of pumped liquid gold in the NICU fridge). He was so tiny, and there were so many wires attached to him, although I recognize that many NICU babies fared far worse. He was very sleepy, from the combination of being newborn, slightly premature, and jaundiced, but aside from that, he was doing well. Breathing fine, no temperature problems, no heart issues. I was barely allowed to hold him; he needed to stay under the lights.


I only got to spend two nights in the hospital, and after that I was forced to spend the better part of every day away from my new little squish. Although I tried to take the opportunity to enjoy being with my older boy, my heart felt torn in half. I continued pumping every three hours, and every day when I visited the NICU I brought all the milk I had made. Baby kept getting blood tests, kept receiving phototherapy. I tried to nurse when I was there, and he received my milk in bottles when I was at home. His bilirubin remained high, and the doctors warned us were were edging toward baby needing a transfusion after all. But instead of just giving him blood--he wasn't anemic, after all--they'd be doing an exchange transfusion. Essentially, the idea would be to swap out most or all of his blood for fresh blood, blood that didn't contain my antibodies.

It was a terrifying prospect.

Instead, we authorized the doctors to give him a dose of IVIg (intravenous immunoglobulin), which would help protect Coconut's red blood cells from my antibodies; this, in essence, would slow the breakdown of the excess cells, hopefully either lowering his bilirubin count or at least leveling it out for awhile so his body could have time to catch up with the load.We were told that IVIg is normally not particularly effective in cases of Rh disease, but that it was certainly worth a try. Anything to try to avoid an exchange transfusion.

Thankfully, it worked. Coconut's bilirubin dropped dramatically after he received the course of IVIg. He still had to stay on phototherapy, but they were able to remove one of the banks of lights. A few days later, we authorized a second dose of IVIg, which further helped his body get on top of things.

Finally, after eleven days in the NICU, Coconut was allowed to come home with us. The monitoring wasn't over just yet, though. He needed a blood test three days later, and then another four days after that. We continued doing weekly blood tests for weeks, monitoring his bilirubin (to ensure it kept dropping), his red blood cell count (to ensure it didn't drop), and his reticulocyte level (which was an indication of how quickly his body was producing new red blood cells). Those days were the worst part of Coconut's week; he hated the heel pricks (who could blame him?), not to mention getting his blood pressure checked and all of his other vitals taken.


Finally, though, when he was approximately six weeks old, the doctors released him. Officially. Bilirubin was nice and low, indicating that his body was able to handle it on its own. Red blood cell count was up, indicating that my antibodies were leaving his system. Reticulocyte count was way up, indicating that his body was finally making plenty of new red blood cells.

Six weeks after birth, my baby was finally free of the effects of my Rh sensitization.

In the end, I feel like I was really quite prepared for the issues I encountered during the pregnancy itself, although the reality of the blood transfusions was far more intense than I had thought they would be. Where I felt unprepared was when it came to the aftermath. No one had really warned me of the issues we'd be dealing with after birth; I had naively believed that once baby was born, he might need a transfusion if he was anemic but that would be that. I hadn't realized that jaundice was a major concern. No one told me my antibodies could linger in his system for up to three or four months. I was unprepared for the frequent, heartwrenching blood tests, or the reality of having a NICU baby.


We got through it, though. It was so much harder than I expected, but it was quite worth it in the end. Of course! Being Rh sensitized made for, quite frankly, a pretty awful pregnancy and birth experience. Thank goodness for the modern medical procedures that enabled this baby to come into the world and into my arms.

***

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