Homebrewing

Brew time means it gets hot and steamy over here.

For Jono's birthday this year he wanted a home-brewing kit for beer. I got a few family members to go in on one together, and now he reminds me of a moonshiner during Prohibition. There are bubbling jugs tucked away in our basement and coat closet almost continually.

So far his brews have been delicious, and it saves us money. Jono's favorites are heavy on the hops, while I prefer porters and stouts. He has brewed two different recipes for me now (out of four total, I think).

I'd recommend DIY brewing for anyone who loves micro-brews and doesn't make six figures ;) We got our kit at a local make-your-own stuff shop called Siciliano's, but I'm sure you can get kits and recipes online as well.

Here's one I had the other night. Yum.

Milk Stout

the dragon mask

This is not a Halloween post, unfortunately ;)

Both boys are on a daily inhalant medication, a mist they breathe into their lungs through a nebulizer machine and mask. Jude has grown out of his more extreme symptoms but still needs seasonal treatment (fall and winter), and Theo is now on it as well because of his recent asthma episodes. In spring, once the cold/flu/respiratory virus season is over, I'll take them both off of it through the summer.

We had another ER visit with Theo about a month after the last one, and this time he was admitted into the children's hospital where we had what they called an "aware" sort of situation (eight or nine docs lined up at the door to check him out), and he was close to being moved to the ICU before he turned around.

Election night jitters

Trying to remove his IV

The nebulizer mask is a dragon, in an attempt to make it friendlier for children. I don't know though. "Smoke" coming out of the holes in its beak-ish nose? It would be horrifying except the dragon has orange raised eyebrows that give him a more benign look. But either way. "Now, young child, put this rubber serpent thing over your face and breathe deeply."

The med is potentially life-saving for our kids though, so I appreciate any effort that makes giving it to them less creepy.

For Dad

A special edition (for Grandpa G):

The Twelve Months of Theo

You'd all seen the first six months, and the second six months only got better with the chub and fluff... so there you are.

Here's an example of the difficulty I had in capturing him lying *still* at 12 months. I had to anchor him with my boots, which he thought was hilarious. What a little squirrel.

 
Amateur photographer's note: the natural light coming in from my windows varied quite a bit in these, so I brightened them up, producing the Andy Warhol-esque effect on the colors. And yet his eyes stayed dark because of the angle of the light. You can still mostly tell what he looked like, and I'm just being anal about it ;)

their birthday

I'm grateful for my boys, who turned one and four on the same day. November 20 has become one of the best days of my life two times over, and is appropriately just before Thanksgiving every year :)

chunky chicken

He's hangry.

As I've said before, Theo spends much of his free time getting his chub on. He does this fake whine whenever he sees, smells or senses food in the area, scrunching up his eyes and showing me his gappy front teeth. Then he says ma-ma over and over until I deliver. It's synonymous with food, and it's the only time he says it (so far).

In the past I've written on here about how scrawny he was at first after being born three weeks early and developing two big food sensitivities (plus being a poor breast-feeder). This photo at two months always makes me shudder because of how gaunt he looks. For most of his baby-hood, he wasn't even showing up on the weight chart.

At his nine month check-up I rejoiced as I was told he had made it to the FIFTH percentile for weight. After months of worrying about him getting enough calories - I had been told he wasn't by the doc - I felt victorious. I had been feeding him solids liberally since six months to help him catch up.

Three months later at his 12-month check-up, I would not have predicted Theo would be as chunky as he is now. He has cellulite, a big rear-end and cankles, which I am happy to point out to many, proud mama that I am. There are matching chub rolls over his knees, and his cheeks expand an inch or so from his face. He is now a pudgy 21 pounds, in the 25th percentile for weight and the 50th for height. Yay, Theo!

All adjectives for food that makes my mouth water come to mind. (Is that weird?) My dad used to call Tyler Chunky Tuna, and I just grew my own version.

Ankle Biter

If I have mentioned this before, here it is again. Theo has two passions in life: food and people. He is both a face-stuffer and a little socialite. I predict some potential hedonism in his future.

Toys have held no special fascination for him, and he does not entertain himself well. The two ways in which I accomplish tasks while he is awake is a) do them while holding him on my hip, or b) stick him in the high chair with finger food. I've gotten pretty creative with food he can feed to himself. We started with Cheerios but now we do tofu, grapes, bananas, raisins and anything I happen to be making for dinner that can be divided into bite-sized pieces and picked up by small, chubby paws.

Jono nicknamed him Ankle Biter the other day, because he's always at my ankles tugging on my pant leg. Oh, and I guess he did literally bite me on my leg three times recently when I didn't pick him up fast enough. I'm not kidding. Now when he approaches me as I'm busy with something and Jono is home, I yell, "COME GET HIM, HE'S GOING TO BITE ME." My voice shakes a little, and the child is 20 pounds with dandelion fluff for hair. 

Here he is, the little stinker, at his typical station:

 

Notice in the third shot he's getting a little more serious about getting picked up. Watch out. Oh, the innocence.

orchards and stuff

Every fall we make a trek out to at least two orchards, usually with extended family. Our first stop this year was Robinette's, right outside our city. This is the place we choose to go with just us - it's close and not too elaborate.

We ate pumpkin-spice doughnuts, gawked at the giant apple and went down the wagon slide a few times, like we always do. Although all of this was a first time for Theo!

Normally we'd also squeeze in a hike on the nearby trails, but it was getting late and our boys were wheezy. (The onset of respiratory problems in my children is the only part of fall that I hate.)

We were planning to purchase some cider at Robinette's for a few toasty warm drinks (rum n' cider, anyone?) later on, but with the drought and all the price of cider was ridiculous. Sad. And not just because I won't be drinking rum and cider... more importantly I feel bad for the farmers.

Second stop this year was Fruit Ridge Farms with my side of the family, which we'd done one other time with them. At this one we went the whole nine yards: doughnuts, cider and a hay ride, the duration of which Brett pontificated about his love for the outdoors and the soul-healing, peaceful activities that are often set there. (He whined the whole time.)

We were a little stressed at the beginning of the hayride because Theo seemed fussy, but as long as my dad was letting him jump up and down in his lap, and no one tried to shush him when he yelled for extended periods at the top of his lungs, he was fine. Not sure we can say the same of our fellow riders, but oh well.

You may notice the reappearance of the mini baby scarf, which Theo allows me to put on him, while Jude did not (other than in the hospital directly after his birth, when he was in no position to fight me).

Now the leaves are mostly gone from the trees and we're preparing for winter. I smelled it for the first time two days ago while taking out the garbage, which initially gave me a little thrill. Hoping to milk that feeling into January, but I'm doubtful this will happen.

Happy fall, y'all.