Elimination Communication

Dirty diapers are supposed to be a fact of life with a baby. And we have our fair share, kind of. Plenty of diapers filled with pee, thrown in the wet bag, and washed every other day (more on cloth diapers another time. *edit, here is my post on cloth diapering) But dirty as in poop? Please no. I can't remember the last time I changed a poopy diaper, and for that I am grateful. But how? I promise you my little guy is healthy and normal and regular. It's just that he knows that poop goes in the potty, and so that's where he takes care of it. This is the stuff of Elimination Communication!

I can't remember where I first heard of EC, but I know that I learned of it either before or during my pregnancy. The general concept is that babies are born with an awareness of doing their business, and instinctually they'd much rather not dirty a diaper- but the faster-paced society we live in now, coupled with the convenience of disposable diapers, has made us essentially train our children to make dirty diapers. With EC, you learn your baby's signs for needing to go potty, and you give them the opportunity to do so on the toilet when they need to. You can start this as early as the day they are born. What's great is that EC can look different for everyone; there is not one single standard approach. Some families EC full time, and they may have their babies in underwear by one-year-old. Some EC only during the day, some only when they are at home, etc.
Much like you and your baby learn how to communicate about his hunger, or sleepiness, or happiness, or discomfort, overstimulation, you can learn how to communicate about his needs to relieve himself. EC was alluring to Jeremy and me because of that communication, we liked the idea of having one more way to connect with Harrison. We also prefer the language used in the EC community. Peeing in a diaper or any other undesirable location is not an "accident"- rather, it is a "miss." That simple rephrasing suits our gentle parenting hearts well. Additionally, "catching" it on the toilet is not meant to be some big celebration, it is instead just a fact of how things are meant to go, and is treated as such.
We started very casually EC-ing when Harrison was four months. In the early days, I gave him a lot of diaper free time on absorbent blankets and puddle pads, and spent that time observing him and looking for cues. Anytime he did go, I made a sound to associate with the action- "psssss" for pee, and a sort of grunting for poop. I also took note of how long he took to pee after he nursed. When he was in a diaper, I tried to change it every hour (and/or 20 minutes after nursing), in an effort to find a dry one and offer him the toilet (or the sink, initially.) I offered him the potty during every diaper change, regardless of it being wet or dry. When we were on the toilet, I cued him with the sounds for pee and poop as well as verbally asking him if he needed to go potty.
There was certainly a transitional time of missing almost everything as Harrison and I both tried to figure out what was going on, but after a short few weeks we sort of had it figured out, and we were noticeably going through less diapers.
Our casual EC-ing has remained casual, and evolved into simply offering the toilet with every diaper change (which is at most every two hours due to the cloth diapers.) I also offer him the toilet during transitional times- immediately after getting home, or waking up, or getting out of the carrier- as I've learned he is more prone to going at those times. We don't EC at night because Harrison is rarely fully awake throughout the night, and we didn't want to sacrifice that. This casual take on EC has led us to catching a handful of pees throughout the day; some days are better than others. Harrison truly understands the concept, but we never did work hard enough to get him to communicate a need to pee, and he is perfectly happy to go in his diaper if I don't happen to catch it.
But the glorious ease at catching poops will never be lost on me. He has always made it fairly obvious when he needs to do it, and I estimate that we've caught 80-90% on the toilet since he was six months old or so. And as a bonus (as is meant to be the general nature of EC), since he's been mobile, Harrison will come and get my attention when he needs to go- he will often crawl or walk up to me and tell me in his own way what he needs to do, and I bring him to the toilet to take care of it.
Though we never jumped in to EC full-time, I am hopeful that since Harrison has maintained his awareness of these important body functions, he will be fully diaper free long before it is the societal norm to start standard potty training. I'm in just as much uncharted territory as anyone else with a one-year-old, but I am hopeful that the past eight months of EC-ing will be beneficial in transitioning Harrison to be diaper free and potty independent sometime in the next six months. (And then say goodbye to washing all those diapers!)
(The book "The Diaper Free Baby" by Christine Gross-Loh was very helpful when we first started, and it was a simple and straightforward read. I was able to get it at the library- though I had to put it on hold and wait a few weeks ... I need to meet these other EC-ing families!)

the seed

On the day you were born
a seed was planted in my heart.

It's hard to understand
the first few weeks of motherhood
until you've been through it.
The inner doubts,
the ever-changing emotions,
feeling like a stranger in your body.
Learning how to care
for the neediest little being
and forgetting to care
for yourself.

Confidence came in sprinkles
a little rain shower
every now and again
and the seed slowly rooted.

We learned together
and as you grew
I grew
and the roots reached down
and held steadfast
while little vines stretched up.

The newness turned to
insight,
the doubts to trust.
Emotions leveled off.

I found gratitude
for my body,
a vessel that housed you,
kept you safe,
nourished you,
for forty weeks
and forevermore.

The vines stretched up more
and more
the roots found firm ground
and grew deeper
deeper
and deeper.

My heart reached a fullness
never known before.
You bring such joy, such hope.

It's hard to understand
the first year of motherhood
until you've been through it.
The peace, the tender
ferocity, the balance,
the purposeful sacrifice.
Learning how to protect
and set free,
how to encourage and indulge,
how to instruct.

The love that was planted
one year ago
now bursts out of me.
Unwieldy
unconditionally
growing faster each day.

Happy first birthday my sweet Harrison, Mama loves you.

Sourdough all the time

My new obsession these days is homemade sourdough bread. Tough, crunchy crust, and soft, tangy, chewy middle- topped with what Jeremy has nicknamed a "Bekah-amount" of butter, and sometimes jam on top of that.

YUM.

I've been interested in making sourdough for a while now; my love for fermented food is never-ending, and I've been buying loaves of delicious but not "real" sourdough bread at the grocery store for far too long. Most of my other food is homemade, and so it was time to add to my repertoire.

True sourdough bread is made with a starter that involves flour, water, and wild yeast. You can maintain a starter for years and years and years once you get it going- and pass it down through many generations! Thanks to the starter, and the length of time you wait for the dough to rise, sourdough bread is more easily digestible, as the bacteria and yeast in the starter pre-digest the starches in the flour. Some sourdough breads, while made with wheat flour, lay claim to being entirely gluten free for this reason.

Now, I am not yet at the place where I know how to "do" sourdough as well as I do kombucha, and my first attempt at a sourdough starter was a true fail- I grew mold instead. But I've a lovely friend who has been taking care of her starter for two years now, and she shared some with me. And I found a seemingly fool-proof recipe from one of my favorite blogs, and for five weeks now our home has had delicious loaf after delicious loaf.

Hopefully later this year I will be able to write about some variations on this method, and learn some troubleshooting, but for now- here are some iPhone pictures and the method I am using to make real sourdough bread on a weekly basis. I start on Wednesday night and bake on Friday morning. If I can manage self-control, Jeremy and I share the first bites of a new loaf when he gets home from work on Friday evening. Start to finish is truly a lesson in patience.

The evening of day one:

1. Take sourdough starter out of the fridge and pour off all but 1/4-1/2 cup into a large glass bowl (my 4qt pyrex works great for this).

2. Feed the separated stater with one cup of water and 1.5-2 cups of flour. I mix white and wheat flour.

3. Feed your original starter with 1/2 cup of water and 1 cup of flour.

4. Let both starters sit in a warm place with a towel draped over top for 12-24 hours.

The morning of day two:

1. Cover the original starter and put it back in the fridge until next week.

2. Feed the new starter with approximately 3 cups of flour, 1.5 cups of water, and 1 teaspoon of salt.

3. Cover with a towel and leave undisturbed once more for 12-24 hours.

The morning of day three:

1. Preheat the oven to 450°

2. Place a large lidded french oven (or in my case, a stainless steel pot, as it is all I have), into the oven and let it get hot for 20 minutes.

3. Liberally flour a large tea towel- 3/4 to 1 cup of flour will do. Pour the sourdough batter on top of the towel and flip it all around to ensure it is covered in flour on all sides.

4. Take the pot out of the oven (carefully!!!), and transfer the dough/batter into the pot. Put the lid on and bake for 30-35 minutes.

5. After the first half of baking time, take the lid off and bake for another 30-35 minutes.

6. The bread is done once the crust is nice and hard. Carefully dump it out of the pot and let cool- it is crucial to not cut into it until it is cool, the heat will release all of the moisture.

For the next few days:

1. Indulge in exorbitant slices of sourdough with even more exorbitant amounts of butter, jam, cheese, anything delicious.

To store, just keep the bread on a cutting board, cut side down on the counter. The crust will get crunchier as the days go on, but it protects the middle and keeps it soft. You can throw a towel over if to keep pests away.

At least once a day, you can find me in the kitchen, slices of sourdough in hand, butter not forgotten. Harrison will often join me, and as I'm enjoying my bread and butter, he enjoys his butter and butter- one of his current favorite foods- and giving him pieces of butter to eat greatly increases the amount of time I am able to relax and enjoy my homemade goodness.

fresh out of the oven

holes are good- they show the yeast has done its job

a Bekah amount of butter

Almost a year, still attached

We are officially a week out from Harrison's first birthday, and of course I am wondering "where did the time go??" but all the same, this milestone isn't (yet) making me feel overly emotional, though it's definitely making me feel very introspective. As I touched on a few months ago, sometimes I still look back and wish better for Harrison in his younger months, and I'm sure that trend will continue as long as I let it. It's been a year full of learning- the beginning of the never-ending task of learning how to be a parent. Learning how to parent in the way that is right for our family. Learning to be confident in the decisions Jeremy and I make for our family. Learning to navigate life when there is more than just "me" to care for.

Harrison has certainly become a little child, very very quickly. He has opinions. Strong ones. Like how behind the toilet has to be the best place to play in the apartment, no matter how often Mama tells him it's not. Or how the cat food must be delicious, even after he's turned down every variety of liquids and solids. Or that sometimes Daddy is the ONLY person he wants, but other times Mama is the ONLY person he wants. And, recently, that receiving a strawberry from someone immediately makes that person a friend.

What's surprising me more these days than Harrison and his upcoming first birthday is not really how he has changed, but how I have changed- and even more how I have not changed.

Once Harrison was born, I nestled myself into our apartment and it became my cozy cocoon. I ventured out for a few walks in those early weeks, but mostly stayed inside and focused on our family of three (six. Harrison truly thinks the cats are his brother and sisters). I dropped everything- no more volunteering at church, no more orchestra, late nights with friends (while already a rarity) became nonexistent. I dropped these things not because I felt the need to, but because I felt the want to. I wanted to stay in my bubble and focus on the newness of our little family. The surprise came, months later, when I realized I still wanted that. And then a few months later yet, when I was still focused inward to our family. Even still these days, I am very focused on our life at home, on being with Harrison as often as possible, on enjoying family time together, on being home for every single bedtime.

Twice in this year Jeremy and I have left Harrison with friends to go out together. Twice more, I have left Harrison with Jeremy to be out of the apartment for more than an hour. And a handful of times, I have given myself the luxury of going on a quick grocery run all by myself.

To some- that likely sounds like a nightmare- having a kid and losing that time to feel like an adult without the immediate responsibility of your child. I full support that- go be you! But for me, I much prefer to be with Harrison more often than not. This first year of him being "attached," if you will, to me- it has been beautiful and everything I dreamed of for our family. And I am truly not ready for that to change. I really thought that by now I would be ready to do things away from Harrison. But it's just not the way things worked out, and as we are all very happy with the way our family is run, there is no need to change it. So we will venture forth in this next year and see what comes of our little family, and continue to learn together.

Engaging in Nourishment

I've been attending a once-per-month breastfeeding support group this year, and it has been more than lovely. While nursing is obviously one of the topics we converse about, the over-arching purpose of this group is more a way to convene with other mothers and their children and support each other where we're each at. This morning we had some guided conversation, based on two questions:

1. What is your current struggle?

2. What are you currently creating?

I love the transparency that is required of both questions, particularly the first one. And I certainly was transparent today, and it was comforting to learn that others have dealt with similar struggles. It was great to discuss in a small group of like-minded women, and I'm leaving my answer to that question with them. But I would like to share my answer to the second question with a wider audience, because it is something I have started to try and become more and more purposeful about, and it is an ever-evolving and very important part of my life:

Food. Nourishing food, to be more specific. And a family culture that engages around it.

I LOVE to eat. My close friends know of this love, and many have seen me pack away more than my tiny frame looks like it can hold. Food has looked remarkably different in different stages of my life, and it's been since college that I've been on a quest to figure out what healthy eating means to me. After getting married almost four years ago, I reframed my thoughts about eating to learn how to plan for and feed two people. And now that Harrison is almost a year old and thoroughly enjoying solids, I'm reframing my thoughts once again.

While I am creating tangible meals for my family to eat, there is more to it than that.

These days my reframing has involved thinking about the purpose of the food that we are ingesting. Thinking about meals at the table where my family is being nourished not only through the food itself, but also through being in the same space, through the closeness of sharing both food and conversation together. I am trying to create a better culture of food in my family, where we eat to nourish our whole selves. Where the meals I have created are an aid in nourishing my family- nutritionally, emotionally, spiritually.

This means being more purposeful about meal planning, even when it sometimes feels like the bane of my existence (particularly when combined with budgeting). This means stealing moments throughout the day to chop vegetables to make dinner prep in the evening less time-intensive, even when I'd rather sit on the couch and zone out in the minimal time I get to myself. This means sitting down and chewing slowly, even when I can't help but think about everything that "needs" to be done before bedtime. This means putting phones away during meals, even though Instagram seems oh-so-alluring. This means engaging as a family unit around the table, making eye contact, asking meaningful questions, and enjoying conversation, even if it's 7pm and it's been a long day.

The meals I am creating these days have involved more and more "slow" food, if you will. I try to always have a ferment at the table- sauerkraut is a constant these days, fermented salsa once tomatoes are in season, pickles, carrots, what have you. These are foods packed away in mason jars that were prepared up to a year in advance, bursting with a flavor my palate has learned to enjoy. They nourish our bodies in the best way- feeding our stomachs with gut-healthy bacteria that aids in whole-body health. Slow food to me also involves cooking meals from scratch, buying less in packages, making every ingredient possible at home, and starting to take better advantage of the abundant farmers markets around Los Angeles (This rainbow burger is my current favorite creation based around many of these practices.)

I learned this morning, while discussing all of the above with the other women in the group, that there is an Ayurvedic concept called Agni- which is a term to mean "fire in your belly." From what I understand, it is said that the Agni of the person preparing a meal is put into the food being prepared, and so everyone eating the meal is also ingesting the Agni that was put in to it. So if you are preparing a meal and you have a negative Agni, you are feeding that negativity to everyone you have prepared the meal for. Conversely, if your Agni is rich and positive, that is what you are passing along while cooking. With this in mind, I want to be more purposeful and joyous while cooking meals. I do enjoy cooking, and do it out of love, but of course there are the days when I feel stressed, or rushed, or just not in the mood. I want to think about what I am doing while cooking, and come back to enjoying it more thoroughly, and in the process allow my positive Agni (if you will) to be shared in the food that I am preparing, and passed along to my loved ones at the dinner table.

Hippocrates is quoted as saying "Let food be thy medicine." I truly believe that the meals we prepare and the ingredients we use in them, along with the attitudes we have while cooking and eating and the space we hold at our dinner tables, is all supremely important for the nourishment of our bodies. I am continually working on creating a better nourishing culture of food in my household, and am looking forward to experiencing what this reframing of thought will lead to next.