It seems I have secret blog readers that just might want a recipe for the pudding pops that Little A has been praying for, for well… months now.  It certainly has been a hiatus of sorts since the last post.  Yes, well having a baby and sustaining life to said baby is actually quite a lot of work.  Throw in some 3 year old preschooler attitude and the days are long and exhausting lately. 

Ms. Preschooler Teacher is my new found heroine and I really can’t wait till school starts again for Little A.  Three cheers for September and routine and structure and cooler days!  Until then, these delicious and oh-so-easy pudding pops will tide you over in the last hazy, lazy days of summer.  (and I can’t take recipe credit.  It’s all Kraft  people.  Kraft rocks).

cookies & creme chocolate pudding pops

prep time: 10 mins plus freezing

makes 9 servings, 1/3 cup each

1 pkg. (4 serving size) jello chocolate instant pudding

2 cups cold milk

6 oreos cookies

1/ 2  cup cool whip  topping

1. beat pudding mix and milk in large bowl with whisk 2 minutes.

2. place cookies in resealable plastic bag; seal bag. use rolling pin to crush cookies.

3. add cookies and cool whip to pudding; stir just until blended.

4. spoon into 9 small paper or plastic cups. (or i use a plastic popsicle mold picked up from dept.store).

5. insert wooden pop stick or plastic spoon into each for handle.  freeze 5 hours or until firm.

**other variations:

butterscotch pudding with crushed teddy grahams crackers. 

banana cream pudding with actual frozen banana chunks.

vanilla pudding with oreo cookies and smartie bits.

pistachio pudding with skor bits.

enjoy!

to better things,

steph

little A praying in earnest that the pudding popsicle’s (that we made that afternoon) will be ready to eat in time for dessert.

after making us wait some overdue days, claire entered the world quickly on a clear, calm early morning.

the parking meter ticket at the hospital read 5:28am and she was born at 6:11am on friday, april 24th, 2009.

claire (clear and bright) ellery (cheerful)

8lbs, 2 ounces 21 inches

there was some concern with baby distress and a heart rate that lowered with labour- but with a few hours of monitering in the nursery she was deemed healthy. audrey’s taken to her and we’re all loving our new little family!

to better things,

steph

we’re still waiting.  waiting on the world to change…

to better things,

steph

 In the beginning, Motherhood and I had some time adjusting to each other.  When Little A was a wee-ish one, I read many books about entering this sacred and bizarre land of Motherhood.  I wanted answers as to why it was difficult, why no one had seemingly told me how hard it was, and just where the heck had my identity gone in this jumbled up mess of parenting?!

Some books were all cheerleader-esque…  ”Yeah Mommy!”  “You GO Girl!”  “Playgroup-Mommies-are-Best-Friends!”   Yes, they may have made me laugh here and there, but they didn’t delve into the rite of passage of Motherhood.  I wanted to read about the giving up, the sacrificing of ones own body, mind, and soul to another little person.  I wanted to hear about how Motherhood wasn’t always bonbons and sweet puppies and happy walks in the park and baking sprinkle cookies. 

I wanted to know about struggles and difficulties and pain.  Why?  I wanted to know that I wasn’t the only one.  I wanted to know the hardships, because really, if you don’t know the hardships — how can it be better?  How can it be brighter? 

Eventually I came across a real winner.  A book that shared insights and was honest and true and poignant .  It was refreshing.  

Between Interruptions: Thirty Women Tell the Truth About Motherhood.

I had the pleasure of taking a writing class last autumn with the author, Cori Howard.  It was amazing to be able to dialogue with other mothers from all across the country (we met online via Skype) and discuss and share our experiences and writing.  It was invaluable to realize how individually and geographically different we all are, yet how universal the common bond of motherhood itself is.

So, all this to give context as to some of the writing that i’ve been recently posting, as well as a little plug to the Momoir Project.   (Make sure to check out the website if you’re interested in signing up to take a class yourself!)

To better things,

Steph

blossoms.

to better things,

steph

The Middle of the Night.

Stephanie Strauss Hall

Two.

That’s the total amount of times our daughter slept through the night the first year of her life. 

The first time was due in part to her initial immunizations that drugged her up and knocked her out.  Of course, this never happened again.  After that the immunizations were some sort of special serum to her body that said “Hey, let’s stay awake now!”  And the second time she slept through the night was just a fluke, I’m sure.

At first I attempted to follow the attachment style of parenting.  I become a fan of dear Dr. Sears and tried my best to cuddle and coo and comfort my little one.  No sleep.  I carried her around with me in a sling- you know “heartbeat to heartbeat.”  No sleep. 

I tried aroma therapy and lavender baths, baby massage, chiropractic care, and white noise.  No sleep.  I drove around in circles in my car attempting to get my little ten pound bundle of twitching energy to sleep.  I had all the drive-thru coffee shops cased and I was a regular customer with standing orders, and still, there was no sleep for baby.

After a while, I decided it was time to get tough – seriously tough.  “Enough of all this ridiculous nonsense!” I thought.  After all, I was the parent, and I was in charge, and clearly I just had to be more firm.  I would show her who was boss! 

My husband and I geared up for the controversial and heart wrenching “Cry It Out Method.”   We ditched our gentle and arguably wayward parenting ways and got in touch with our inner Ferber.  We were tough.

We had been warned that the “Cry It Out Method” had to be all or nothing.  That you had to commit, and that it would be hard, but within about 3 days the child would succumb and get to sleep successfully and on her own accord.   “Actually, maybe account for 3-5 days, if your child is spirited,” our family physician told us as we left the doctor’s office.

Plan in hand; we let her cry it out.  We let her cry it out for fourteen days.  Yes, FOURTEEN.  She did not let up.  She did not succumb, and it was clear that she would not give.  We were both in tears and our child – in obvious distress – was pulling out what little tufts of hair she had on her head.  Enough was enough.

Suggestions and advice abounded from friends, family and casual acquaintances.  We tried anything and everything whether it made sense or not. 

We were told that “She’s probably just cutting her first tooth, once it pops through, and then I’m sure she’ll start sleeping.”  First tooth came… sleep did not.

“She’ll probably sleep better once you start solids.”  Solid foods came and still no sleep.

“She probably just wants to move.  Once she starts to crawl she’ll be less frustrated and sleep.” She slid, crawled, walked, ran… to no avail.

We, the parents, were overwhelmed, frustrated and sleep deprived.  I, despite being raised as a preacher’s daughter, was losing my mind and I had four letter words leaping out of my mouth like popcorn from an air-popper.

I just really wanted, no, needed my kid to sleep.

So on any random weekday night when my little almost 1 year old daughter decided to only sleep from 9pm-12am and then stay awake from 12 am till oh… say 4am… that’s how it happened that we began to have the occasional 2am tea party.

Her and I donned our wide brimmed party hats from the dress up bin, wrapped our fleecy housecoats around ourselves and pulled out the antique china with tiny rosebuds on it.  We dined on crackers, cheese slices, and grapes carefully cut in half.  She sipped milk from a bottle and I sipped juice from a teacup…. all at 2am.

I finally gave up trying to look for how to fix her, and tired as I was, began to just enjoy the many waking hours that her and I had together.  Many parents comment on how fast the time went when their baby was little.  In some ways, for me, it did not go fast.  I was awake for so many of those moments and remember living them so vividly and fully. 

It was in those hours where I really began to stop frantically searching for what was wrong, and why she wouldn’t sleep, and instead started to notice who my daughter was and observe the things she did.  It was an important step in the journey we were on to accept our child on her own terms.

Someone once said that nothing good happens after midnight, but after spending many, many hours awake with my daughter; I have learned that this is certainly not the case.

photo credit to sharalee prang; images of life.