I just wanted to post to say that I'm not posting. That is probably completely inane, but I'm feeling the pull to put a word in.

For those playing along at home, we have been trying and trying to buy a condo down the street, and finally — finally! — we have our keys and are starting the process of moving in.

At the same time, the state audit of our business taxes chose this moment to resume, after an unanticipated lull, so I'm giving myself carpal tunnel syndrome copying and pasting invoices from the past four years in preparation.

So...so. It's going. Things are good, but chaotic. Something has to give, in the midst of parenting, moving, auditing, family visits, working...and I decided this time that sleep would not be it. So, writing it is. I had written several posts and half-posts in advance that I had scheduled, but I've run out. I hope to find some snatches of down time, and quiet inspiration, to churn out some more soon. I also hope to respond to comments and read and comment some more in that great big lovely blogosphere!

Just to whet your appetite and maybe get some recommendations going in advance, we're moving to a place without a communal yard waste bin like in our current apartment building. I feel bad tossing all those kitchen scraps, so I'm looking into indoor composting options. NatureMill, vermiculture, and bokashi — any opinions? I'm leaning toward bokashi as non-smelly, relatively inexpensive and uncomplicated, and with only the tiniest of living creatures: bacteria! But then what will I do with the results, when I don't have a yard or yard waste collection? I'm thinking maybe gifting it to friends who have a compost pile, or to friends who have a yard waste bin! Does anyone have any experience with any of the above, or thoughts on composting in an apartment or condo building with noise, smell, and vermin restrictions?

One of the most important ideas I took away from reading The Continuum Concept, by Jean Liedloff, is that children are socially cooperative animals. I've written about this before when an 11-month-old Mikko helped me brush the cat to illustrate that children's (and adults') tendency is to imitate the group they find themselves a part of so that they can fit in. I included in that previous article several quotes from The Continuum Concept about how children naturally become like their elders without any coercive measures necessary, which goes against the way our culture tells us that children are innately antisocial and must be brought in line with what is expected of them.

As I've been exploring this theory in my now two years of observing my child, I've come to realize that it's not the child's behavior that's so different in a continuum vs. non-continuum household; it's all about perspective. My particular child is simply behaving in a developmentally appropriate way, not doing anything special. But where some elders would see inconvenience and stubbornness and brattiness when toddlers insist on doing something for themselves, I've been able to glimpse an innate determination in my son to become more like the people around him. Two-year-olds, with all of their newfound abilities, offer some of the best opportunities to witness the concept of innate sociality in action. Here are my current experiences. Feel free to share yours in the comments!


     1. Mikko has started a new and hilarious trick of parroting back anything we say, with hand gestures and intonations, but with only scattered vocabulary. So, if we had said, say, "We'd better call Grandma before we leave," it will sound something like this: "Raa maa blu vrr Grandma frr raa maa." Only with astonishing animation, and a big grin, and emphatic hand motions. If he were a teenager, I'd call it sarcastic. Since it's obviously not, I'm going to have to reevaluate my prejudices against teens as well...

     2. Mikko says "uh oh" whenever something falls to the ground, whether or not he intentionally made it so. A book falling off the table gets "uh oh," but so does a tower of blocks he gleefully crashes into, and so does a toy he throws in pique when he's not getting his way over something. That last one is usually funny enough to keep me out of my own fit of pique during his mini-tantrums.

     3. Mikko loves to help clean, as long as it doesn't interfere with what he's doing. I can't tidy up a box of blocks, say, without his wanting to start playing with the blocks, but he'll do other things to help out. He loves pushing a broom around or flitting with the feather duster. He lives to put things in the trash, no matter if we're at home or out. He even knows that if the trash comes on a tray, that you're supposed to put the tray up above the trash can. (What? We meet friends in a mall food court a lot...) Yesterday he spilled some water and rushed away from it, looking as if he wanted to leave it for his dad to clean up. Nope. Mikko was rushing to grab a pair of his discarded underpants, which he apparently considered an eco-friendly and convenient option for mopping up water spills. He was right.

     4. Mikko and the cat, Mrs. Pim, have a contentious relationship, with all the contention being on her side. Mikko would love to be friends, but Mrs. Pim is (rightly) wary. That doesn't stop Mikko from trying to win her over. He loves to give her her kibble twice a day, which we just kind of pile on the floor or put in a fun little food ball — but then we always lose the food ball because Mrs. Pim bats it into a closet or under a chair, so back on the floor the kibble ends up going for a week until we find the food ball again. Anyway, Mikko loves to scoop his little handfuls of her food out of the big bin we keep it in and toss it haphazardly all over the hardwood floors, where it scatters into corners and sticks to bare feet. It's not the most convenient way to feed a cat, but it makes him happy. The other day Mrs. Pim was hungry enough to actually come running when it was time for Mikko to dole out her rations. She stopped a few feet beyond us and turned her back, playing it cool. Mikko grabbed a handful and ran toward her. I ineffectually tried to convince him to leave her alone, since I wasn't sure what new torture he had dreamed up for her. (He really likes to point out that she has eyes, for instance, which she is not so fond of.) But she stayed put, and he stayed on course, and I was so glad to see what transpired. He carefully placed his handful down right in front of her nose and then backed away to get more. And, miracle of miracles, Mrs. Pim began eating! Even when he came back with more, she didn't shy away. I loved that he was basically hand-feeding her, with more care than even we take.

     5. When it comes to his own food, Mikko will not eat anything alone. He must share. And even when it comes to nursing, if he's holding a doll, he'll let the new baby have a taste of nummies first before he claims his turn. We were meeting the aforementioned friends at the food court, and everyone was eating fries with "dip" (ketchup), Mikko's requirement for every meal now. (It doesn't always have to be ketchup — just some sort of dippable sauce.) Mikko settled in on one friend's lap and picked up a nice long fry, dipped it, and offered her a bite behind him. Then he took a bite. Then he offered it to the other friend. The first friend laughingly warned her off from being the third to share a single fry, but it was beautiful to see the natural generosity at work in a little child (and, incidentally, a lovely example of allomothering).

     6. I bought a couple skirts and dresses lately in an attempt to be cool (literally — for the summer, I mean!). I found to my dismay that I could therefore not stash my wallet and keys and lip gloss in my pockets, because there were none. Fine, I sighed, digging through the closet till I found a purse from high school, the last time I regularly carried one. Naturally, my purse is Mikko's new toy. Giving him his own purse doesn't work, because he wants the one I'm using. Case in point, right now my purse is holding a toy horse, but my wallet and phone have been dumped and scattered. But an unexpectedly favorite item within is my glasses wipe from Costco — a little microfiber cloth in a plastic pouch. Mikko is fascinated with Sam's and my glasses. I try to reassure him that there is no earthly way he will not someday garner his own pair of specs, what with nearsightedness having stricken every member on both sides of our family, but it's hard to wait when you're two. In the meantime, he's practicing. Every time he sees the little lens-wiping cloth, out it comes from its pouch, and he immediately uses it to dab his eyes. Apparently, that will do in the meantime!


All right, it's your turn. How have your children demonstrated their inherent social cooperation? Does it make you as giddily happy as it makes me? (That last one was kind of a rhetorical question.)

"almost 14 months of mama milk" from a beautiful mama and toddler on flickr. More on nursing toddlers here, and link up your Wordless Wednesday posts here.

It seems bad form to mention Sam's astonishingly yummy pico de gallo and then not give you a recipe for it. Here I will correct that grievous oversight.



There are many variations on pico, but I'll just give you our preferred combination. In our case, it's a mild and chunky, non-saucy, sweetish and tangy salsa. It's all very simple.

Gather your ingredients:
     • tomatoes
     • onions — the sweeter the better — Walla Wallas if you're lucky enough to have 'em
     • cilantro
     • cabbage (the secret ingredient!)
     • lime juice
     • sea salt to taste (optional)

Everything that can be chopped, go ahead and dice into chunky pieces. Mix together in a large bowl and spritz with lime juice. Sprinkle coarse sea salt if you want a little more...well, saltiness.

There are no particular rules for how much of a certain item you need to put in. That's why it's a great end-of-summer recipe (can you believe it's September already??) for all of those tomatoes that are ready to harvest. If the combination you make feels too heavy on one item or another, remember that for next time, or balance it out if you have extra ingredients still on hand. There's no wrong way to make pico de gallo, as long as it tastes good to you!

For best taste, let it sit in the fridge for awhile to let the flavors run together. But if you can't resist eating it right away, I understand. I couldn't tell you how well this keeps, because ours never stays around that long. If I had to guess, I would imagine canning is possible, but freezing will change the texture of the tomatoes.

If you want more heat, add jalapeños or chiles at will.

But, as is, it makes a very nice treat for young mouths. It's mild enough for even very early eaters to give it a go, and since it's chunky, little fingers or adult helpers can preselect portions that will be appreciated. For instance, Mikko gobbles up all of the tomatoes he can lay hands on. At this point, we could probably add a little heat to ours, because Mikko enjoys some medium-hot salsas; so if you have kids who like the hot stuff, go ahead and make it as spicy as they want. That said, even though we enjoy spicy foods, it's refreshing to have this mild, fresh, juicy and crunchy treat.

The standard use for pico de gallo is to wolf it down with tortilla chips, but it also makes a lovely garnish for meals. Layer it over Mexican food (of course!), or use as a salsa topping for chicken, fish or eggs. It can even make for a unique relish on hot dogs or hamburgers!

¡Buen provecho!

Today I bring you a culinary tip involving cabbage.

Despite my fierce appreciation for Cabbage Patch Kids growing up, I never thought much of cabbage. I just sort of assumed I didn't like it, having heard bad things about starving poor people having to subsist on little else, encountering it overboiled in our German junior high cafeteria, and finding the sight of sauerkraut unappealing.

It took years before I realized that it wasn't true. I really did like cabbage. Those crunchy purple strips in the salad bar — cabbage! I loved those things, often eschewing lettuce for crunchy purple strips with spinach leaves. Sauerkraut, it turned out, tasted good when you actually put it in your mouth instead of just turning up your nose at it.

And, several years ago, Sam and I discovered the joys of pico de gallo. At our favorite Mexican joint, we could not get enough of their tangy, limey mixture of tomatoes, onions, and cilantro. But when we tried to replicate it at home, something was missing. Ours was just not as crisp, tending toward mushiness. We kept returning to the restaurant (no great burden) to inspect the salsa at our leisure. What were the white crunchy bits that were filling out the pico? You can guess where I'm going with this — cabbage!

The problem with adding cabbage to our at-home version of pico de gallo was that we then had 3/4 of a head of cabbage still sitting in our fridge when we were done preparing a heaping bowl. Some of you may be very smart and know just what to do with cabbage at home. We are the kind of people who read those tips on "how to sneak greens into your kids' food" — not because we feel the need to sneak. I like veggies, cabbage obviously, kale, chard, spinach, brussels sprouts, you name it! It's just that I can't always figure out how to eat leafy veggies when I'm not having a salad.

Then Sam had a brainstorm. I was cooking up some traditional foods recipes, and all of them called for a grain to go underneath the main slop of the day. (I actually really love the taste of those recipes, but all of my versions were visually suspect. Are all traditional foods recipes something like a stew?) Due to using up whatever ingredients happened to be on hand (I'm big on tossing whatever looks good into a pot — see stew-like result above), I always had way more slop than grains. So we'd have enough rice or amaranth or whatever to last us the first dinner, but none for the next four days of leftovers.

Sam was dishing up our leftovers one day and grabbed the partially used head of cabbage sitting on the floor of the fridge. Out he came from the kitchen bearing two plates of gooey traditional goodness sitting atop a bed of fresh, crisp, julienned, raw cabbage.

Let me tell you, I don't want to go back to rice. It was so good. The cabbage taste is mild, so all you really got was texture: crunchy, watery, bursting texture to offset the savoriness of the stew on top.

And preparing a cabbage bed is so much easier than cooking rice or pasta or couscous, particularly if you're trying to do it a traditional, soaking way with dry rice. You don't have to cook or prepare anything in advance. As soon as you're ready for it, just grab the head of cabbage and start chopping it onto the plate. If you slice across the cross-section, you'll naturally get some nice strips — cabbage confetti!

So, if you're an expert in using up a whole head of cabbage in other ways, please do share in the comments and then ignore me. But if you're looking for an idea to incorporate leafy veggies into non-salad meals, give the cabbage bed a try! It might sound odd, but it tastes delicious.

Ok, this is just for fun, but I found this nifty calculator that acts like a carnival barker, guessing your child's adult height from a series of current clues.

The Child Height Predictor is good for ages 2 through 12 and estimates how tall your kid will be at age 18.

I'm really amused at how many caveats and cautions this simple little online calculator contains. It warns you that this is only a "fun tool" and simply a guess, and to check with your child's pediatrician if the calculator offends you. Ok, it doesn't really say that. But it does honestly say that the calculator cannot account for factors including poor nutrition, Olympic-level athletics, or children who have a physical condition affecting their growth. I love the idea that there might be parents out there who would seriously blame this online calculator for inaccuracies in the last case.

As for us — Mikko will be 6'2", and if he's not, I'll want my money back.