Weaning

I have this idea that I'd like to wean Ahuva at 1 year. It seems to me a reasonable amount of time. I knew I wanted to breast feed her for at least 6 mo. but I also think that when she's old enough to ask for it by name, it's too long. So now she's 10 mo. old and it's time-to-start-getting-ready-to think about it.
Why?
Energy. After starting life as an exceptional sleeper, Ahuva is now in the habbit of waking up 3-4 times a night for a feed. Guess who else gets up?
It's also physically demanding, producing all that extra good stuff for her.
Mood. On weekends, I nurse more. I find that I tend to get weepy. All that lacrimone I think.
Freedom. At some point, it would be nice to be able to take a business trip without her or have an entire night away with my husband. Is that crazy?
Why not?
Bonding. It feels good to be able to offer this gift to my daughter. When I'm not dying to do something else, it's time I cherish. I like that it's something she only gets from me.
Health. It's good for her!
Why it can work
Ahuva is now eating tons of "real" food and this week she finally took a bottle of cow's milk from my mother and from the babysitter.

How to do it? This part is tricky. I went to La Leche League for advice. All they say is, "Are you SURE you're ready to stop (even if your kid is in college)? Are you AWARE of all the amazing benefits of breast feeding?" Duh. But enough! Another site I found suggested following a "don't offer, don't refuse" policy. I tried yesterday. I didn't offer the breast as I usually do when I picked her up. She didn't ask for it either. I spent the evening feeling a bit confused and light-headed (milk brain) but I didn't explode.

Advice?

ISSO Potluck Dinner

When I was growing up in Brookline, MA there was a special event my whole family anticipated giddily and a bit gluttonously. It was a potluck dinner for ESL (English as a Second Language) students and their families. Each foreign kid got to invite one native friend and his family. A lot of American kids shunned the foreign students and feared receiving an invite. But my brother and I understood that scoring this invite was a treat. When it came to international potluck, being the token gringo was well worth any cultural awkwardness. Each family brought a traditional dish from their homeland. Lucky for us, many kids came from cultures that still took immense pride in their national dishes. In the best cases, there was a grandmother at home slaving away over delectable dumplings, complicated pastry, or slowly-simmered stews. My mother made chocolate chip cookies, the quintessential American treat. (My aunt took a different approach at such events: she bought a massive bucket of KFC. It was always a hit.) For the price of a few smiles and that plate of chocolate chip cookies, we were rewarded with a plate piled high with some of the world's most delectable dishes.

So it was with great excitement that I accepted the invitation Adi got from the International Student Spouse Organization to their family potluck dinner. I married the foreign friend. I get to be the guest gringo for life!

I decided to make tabule (recipe follows). I find washing and cutting the parsley to be a bit of a pain in the tush but it's cheap, veggie, and was the most representative thing I could think of for Israel.

When we arrived at the sad cafeteria in CU's engineering building, there were only two couples plus two organizers and their children. The organizers had smartly supplemented the pot luck with cheese and crackers, sliced peppers, humus and babaganous, slices of French bread, a fruit salad and cookies. Drinks and paperware were provided. A little girl offered me a piece of cheese which I happily accepted and shared with Ahuva. We were invited to identify our dish using a Sharpie on a big index card and to similarly label ourselves with stick-on name tags.

People began to arrive and the table of offerings got more interesting: spicy chicken and rice from Pakistan, beef and potatoes from Japan, a pork dish from Japan, a Hungarian egg salad, Hungarian pancakes, and a box of some of the best Greek baklava I've tasted. Lovingly prepared, the dishes nevertheless bore a bit of the graduate student strain as opposed to the meticulous hand of a dedicated grandma. But they were still all delicious.

The Pakistani couple had a baby just a few months younger than Ahuva. The girls were naturally drawn to each other, giving their parents an excuse to talk. I got to ask a real Japanese woman the truth about pregnancy and sushi eating. She assured me that pregnant women in Japan do eat sushi, but admitted that she didn't care for the fish here - it isn't fresh enough. And I snagged a babysitter. It went something like this:

Me: So what are you doing here while your husband studies?

Nice Hungarian woman who is admiring my baby: I'm studying English, not working.

Me: And what did you do in Hungary?

Nice woman: I have a law degree and worked in a bank.

Me: I see.

Nice woman: I'd like to find a job, but it's hard without a visa.

Me (thinking: "sucks for you, score for me!): Oh! Yes, it's very hard. Are you interested in babysitting?

Nice woman: Oh, yes!

Me: How about tomorrow night???

 

On the walk home, Adi reflected to me that he'd never had so much contact with anyone from Pakistan before. He wants me to get her chicken recipe and told me that her husband complimented my tabule. How cool is it that we have the chance to have such encounters?

 

RECIPE: Tabule salad according to Ahlass (traditional Druze recipe)

Growing up, I hated what passed for tabule in the US. You know it, that Near East mix in a box. Way too watery tasting, with an emphasis on the bulgur rather than the parsley. Blech. In Israel though I grew to love the refreshing salad. Serve a generous serving as a side dish or appetizer along with other Middle Eastern salads. My friend Ahlass taught me how she makes it.

 

·        2 sprigs parsley

·        juice of 1-2 lemons

·        1 tbsp. bulgur (dry, uncooked)

·        a bit of tomato or red pepper, chopped small

·        ~ 2 tbsp. olive oil

·        salt and pepper to taste

 

1.   Rinse and dry the parsley. Cut off the stems. Chop the leaves.

2.   In a medium bowl, mix the parsley with the remaining ingredients.

3.   Taste and adjust seasonings.

 

Tips:

·        Parsley in the USA tastes different from Israeli parsley. Example: American parsley is pretty tasteless. I bought one sprig of "curly" and one sprig of "Italian" and mixed them. It was OK.

·        You don’t have to totally remove the leaves from the stems. Some stem is OK. It's just more fiber!

·        A mini-chopper can help with the parsley. Otherwise, use a good knife.

·        Ahlass mixes her salad using her hands. She grabs a pinch and ask me to taste it. "More lemon?" I'm touched that she thinks I'm an authority. But in fact we all are. Taste it. Maybe it needs more oil? Salt? Lemon.

·        Note that you don't cook the bulgur, nor use very much. It gets softish from the lemon juice and oil, but it retains some nice crunchiness. Don't be afraid of the crunch.

·        Tastes best after at least an hour but doesn't keep more than 2-3 days.

 

 

Back Online

Whew! Too many technological glitches and hectic times kept me from writing. I'd love to be back on track.