Charlie is really into playing games lately. While they may be titled in familiar terms, the way he plays them will make anyone laugh. Hide and Seek involves the standard seeker role, but the hiding person has quite a bit more leeway with Charlie’s version. In fact, hiding might be simply standing by a wall in plain sight. Or pretending you’re a part of the stairway, simply because you’re on it. And, just in case you’re having a hard time spotting him in his incredibly stealthy spot, he’ll give you a “pssst” every once in awhile to help you out. The “pssst” started after we had to help him find us because his seeking skills are just about as good as his hiding skills.

The other hilarious game is hiding plastic eggs, which we’ve been doing since Easter. We take turns hiding and seeking, but Charlie always needs help seeking if they’re not visible. When he hides them he often picks the spots you just used, particularly if they were new and cool. He also thinks it’s a part of the game to tell you where he’s hidden the eggs (because, surely, you must need the same help he did with spotting eggs, even if they’re right in front of you on the coffee table). We don’t even get a chance to look before he’s told us where they are. And he loves it. So we play over and over and over again.

We bought Charlie Chutes and Ladders to celebrate Miles’ birth because of his growing interest in numbers and counting. He’s also made up his own rules for this game, which basically involve using the spinner and going wherever you want to, for as many squares as you desire. And nobody wins or loses. It’s quite easy to play. Come over and join us someday!

An older girl ran up to him at the playground a few weeks ago and said, “Let’s play tag.” She then tagged him and ran away. Charlie thought he’d been hit at first, and then ran the other direction. We might let him have his own rules to this one for awhile, too, just to keep other kids guessing.

Beginning around week 39, I started doing nearly everything under the sun to attempt to encourage labor. I didn’t start this ridiculousness until my mom had been present at our home for several days, making sure we would have time for a few fun dates and Charlie’s adjustment to her presence. In an effort to laugh about all the labor inducing myths, I solicited on Facebook. Pistachio ice cream, eggplant Parmesan, wine, spicy food, primrose oil, acupuncture, castor oil, sex, and bikini waxes were among the suggestions. While I didn’t try all, I did a bunch of these recommendations knowing there was no harm in eating some spicy mango curry. I had a pleasant experience with acupuncture and learned that is has several studies backing it for decreased labor time and cervical ripening, so I would recommend it as a legitimate tool for those willing to face the needles. Plus, I walked away with a great packet of acupressure points which ended up being an invaluable part of my pain management during labor.

The funny thing is, I don’t even believe in most of these techniques that I tried and am aware that placebo effect doesn’t work without that factor! I guess that’s desperation for you. The pressure was on with my mom leaving April 21 and knowing that week 42, and definite induction date, was April 24. The closer we got to her flight date, the harder it was to relax about it. I was sad at the thought of her leaving without meeting Miles. I was also really concerned that Charlie would be adjusting to her departure and staying with someone less familiar while we were at the hospital. Once we discovered that Harry Senior would be willing to fly up and be with Charlie if we got to that point, I felt comfortable with whatever would happen.

In the end, genetics probably won out as the timing was just like Harry’s middle brother (and Charlie was like Harry, the firstborn). The first weak, irregular contractions started on Saturday, the beginning of my 41st week of pregnancy.  At 2am Sunday they were strong enough to wake me and keep me up.  In the morning I called my friend and doula, Kari, to help me get through them.  They were about five minutes apart and rather strong.  We went on a walk to get Harry some coffee and Kari some food and they slowed a bit but not much.  By noon they had become irregular and I was discouraged, thinking we were headed down the same path as Charlie’s labor (40 hours).  I sent Kari home and got a nap in.

Contractions were back shortly. By dinnertime I was barely making it through them by myself and Kari arrived just in time for Harry to start the bedtime routine with Charlie (which lasted a couple hours because of his sadness at us leaving for the hospital). I was relying strongly on breathing techniques, relaxation, visualization, prayer, and acupressure to get through them. (Thank you, Hypnobirthing book!) I also kept getting the image of my child being placed in my arms, which helped tremendously. That ended up being my primary prayer and motivator through the contractions.

Around 8pm I called our midwife to let her know we’d be coming into the hospital. My contractions had mostly been three to four minutes apart but we’d had some longer gaps. Because of those, she said we could wait a bit and reassess or go on in. Quickly, my contractions were getting closer together and we decided to head in. I wanted time to settle in to the hospital before they were too hard to focus on anything else.

Driving to the hospital was agonizing. First of all, contractions in that position suck and nobody could help relieve them. Secondly, I was facing the knowledge that my cervix would be checked and needed to decide whether or not I wanted to know where I was at. I knew a 3 or 4 would discourage me and continued to fear that I was going to have as long of a labor as I did with Charlie.  I didn’t think I was in enough pain or having a difficult enough time to be in transition yet.

Once we arrived there, I ended up crying to Harry and Kari about this decision. I didn’t think I could manage without an epidural if it was going to be that long (let alone care for the two boys on so little sleep after a week of minimal sleep to begin with due to Charlie’s illness and pregnancy woes). I was so conflicted because of my intense desire to labor without drugs. I realized how many different things (good and bad, including pride) were packed into this desire, which made it even harder. Mia, our fabulous (Lake Charles native) midwife entered, and joined in the discussion. She checked me and immediately said, “Well, there isn’t a decision to be made. You’re at a 7 or an 8 and all we have to do is get this baby farther into your pelvis and you’re going to be pushing him out.” I sobbed with tears of joy. This felt like an enormous gift to me and I was completely re-energized to continue labor without intervention.

So we continued for three more hours. I had to drink a lot of water to get Miles’ heart rate down (somehow I was dehydrated despite the 200+ ounces of water I’d had that day). Nurses performed what felt like exploratory surgery on my hand to find a vein to take my blood. And contraction by contraction Harry and Kari pushed on my back and other pressure points, talking me through, encouraging me on. I just focused like crazy and did my best to take them one contraction at a time. I also added humor to the scene by burping up gardenburger fumes after every contraction. And these burps weren’t masked. We’re talking bachelors drinking beer kind of burps. Labor does that to you. It’s a bit raw.

By the end of my transition period and throughout pushing I was groaning and yelling. Loudly. I felt really bad for the women just being admitted to the unit or put in the room next to mine. I was definitely the scary laboring woman if they were hoping for a nice calm experience. I had a hoarse voice for about 24 hours afterward and laughed to myself that some SLP out there would scold me for that and want to do vocal therapy for laboring women.

By the time I was pushing, Miles’ heart rate was hard to find and occasionally slow. I had to lay on my left side to push so that more blood flow would get to him. Two nurses held my right leg. Mia had said something about wanting to get him out as soon as possible, which worried me, so I pushed as hard as I could. Harry & I don’t recall exactly, but we think it was probably about eight to ten pushes for about 20 minutes. My bag of waters never broke, so they all got to see that push out a bit first and ended up breaking it while part of it was outside of me (which I wish I could’ve seen! Harry said it looked a bit like a white water balloon.). The nurse joked about how they all instinctively turned their heads away because they’ve all been splashed before! As Miles’ head finally came out, he stuck one of his fists out, too, just like Superman. Apparently, I wouldn’t have torn had he not done this. It’s such a cute way for him to exit that I don’t mind so much. Anyways, he was quickly brought to my arms, just as I had envisioned, and we got to experience that magical moment of meeting our son face to face for the first time. After lots of telling him how beautiful he was, exclamations of wonder and oohs and aahs, I checked in to make sure he was a boy and ask when his birthday was. I couldn’t believe it was still Sunday. I labored in under a day. 22 hours! Woo-hoo!

I am so thankful for this experience.  The beautiful, warm spring day filled with blue skies, flowers, and several walks with my husband and a dear friend.  All the time between contractions provided space for conversation that is rare and treasured.  I was in awe of Harry’s support this time.  Last round he was knocked out due to strep but still provided incredible support.  This time, he acted like he was a certified doula- truly phenomenal.  Plus, he held Charlie together all day, too.  Thinking of Harry’s presence will always be part of the intense joy I feel when I reflect on April 18th.  I also felt like God surprised me with a great gift by being so far along.  I truly felt blessed to know I could continue on med-free and was immediately freed from the fears I had as a result of Charlie’s labor and my recovery from it.  Of course, the end result is the best part of it all.  Seeing your child, whom you carried for 41 weeks, being brought to your arms couldn’t be sweeter.  Every challenge of pregnancy is suddenly washed away by the pure beauty of the precious baby.

Our sweet son was born Sunday, April 18th at 11:54pm.  He weighed in at 8lbs, 10oz, surprising his mama who thought he would top 10lbs.  Depending on which nurse you trust, he’s either 20 or 20.5 inches long.  And his head circumference is 37cm or 14.5 inches.  He’s a big newborn but feels so tiny in comparison to his three year old brother. We are completely smitten and are thoroughly enjoying snuggling with him as much as possible.

We have loved receiving notes, calls and emails of encouragement. Thank you for supporting us. We hope to return some of those messages sometime, but with it being just Harry & I to care for the two boys, we’re staying pretty busy. We are all enjoying a rare moment of Miles sleeping, Charlie happily watching a video and nothing pressing calling our name so I wanted to update loveoirs before Miles turns one!

Welcome, little one. We are thrilled you’re a part of our family.

Harry & my first big shift with food came as a result of a year of very limited income.  We did not want to sacrifice quality or health and live off Top Ramen and mac & cheese, so to help stretch our food budget we either eliminated or significantly reduced consumption of meat, juice, alcohol, and other unhealthy foods.  We also stopped eating out or buying coffee and pastries (one of our favorite weekend traditions), apart from special or rare occasions.

Through that year we got quite used to eating this way and maintained many of the habits once Harry had a full-time job.  I don’t enjoy handling nor cooking most meat so the only forms I began incorporating semi-regularly were ground buffalo and wild salmon.  Additionally, I learned much more about gardening, had a huge amount of bed space to do so, and quickly fell in love with growing food.  Last summer and fall I barely ever bought vegetables at the market because our garden produced enough for our family, and often enough to share or store.  This perpetuated our mostly vegetarian diet because it was the most convenient, healthy and economical way for us to eat.  I also believe this helped me become a much better, more flexible cook.  I had to learn new ways to use the same vegetable without us going crazy at the sight of it or how to incorporate a bunch of random veggies into a dish before they went bad.  I now have several meals that I can cook without following a recipe that work as great vehicles for leftover produce (homemade pizza, pasta dishes, salads, enchiladas, frittatas, etc…)

The next steps we took came because of articles, books, and discussions about the food industry.  Not fast food (we’d watched SupersizeMe years prior and have successfully avoided McDs, as well as most of it’s equals, since), but the major players behind most “food” products on the USA grocery stores shelves.  Food, Inc. was probably the most powerful catalyst for change, but Pollan’s articles/books and other key players in the slow food movement have all contributed to our baby steps.  Each bit of knowledge has led to either a softening towards change or immediate change.  It’s definitely a bit like peeling an onion-layer after layer reveals something new, usually equally pungent.  Sometimes we’re ready to digest what we learn, other times we’re not.

We have found the process extremely rewarding.  I am really enjoying providing healthier, more sustainable food options for our family that are balanced out by delicious treats.  (In our home, very little sugar in the three big meals a day leaves plenty of room for some sweet treats as snacks!) I am definitely doing a lot more dishes, pots & pans nearly every meal, but the truth is that only adds about 5 minutes of clean-up per meal.  I have grown very accustomed to the bulk food sections of stores and now know which stores I can no longer shop at for just about anything.  Recently, several grocery store clerks looked at me like I was crazy after asking if they had spelt flour.  One questioned whether it truly existed and followed up that question with “Is it for Passover?”  So funny.  Also, none of us are missing our old breakfast staples like I anticipated.  We are enjoying our oatmeal, granola, pancakes or eggs for breakfast.  Charlie has stopped asking for boxed mac & cheese unless he sees it in the grocery store.  He got it as a treat with a babysitter one night and we’ve decided it’ll be saved for just that occasion for two reasons, to please the child’s palate and help us get out the door without tears.   I have seen substantial improvement in his willingness to try new foods and eat what’s put before him.  This has probably been a big enough reward in itself to keep us motivated.

It’s an exciting time for us with the baby on the way but I feel like these changes are sustainable.  Additionally, we will probably have groceries delivered to home for awhile, which along with buying a bit more time and keeping healthy foods coming our way, will probably lower our grocery bill because there won’t be any impulse purchases.  I’ve also stocked our freezer with lots of beans, soups and breads that we can pull out as needed.  (To help prevent us from going to the grocery store and buying a frozen pizza, for example…but again, there’s room for grace.  There will undoubtedly be those days.)  There are no vegetables growing in pots on our front porch, like I’d hoped to have, and at this point I wonder if I’d have any chance of keeping them alive.  (I think we’ll be ready for summer veggies but missed the cool weather spring veggie window.)  I am sad I won’t be able to rely on my own produce like I could last year, but hey, at least we’re in Seattle surrounded by farmer’s markets in every neighborhood come May!  And the year-long Ballard market is so fantastic.  It helps tremendously to be in a community filled with believers in the importance of changing our food system, and even moreso to have close friends walking the same path, sharing recipes and meals with us.  (Have you watched Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution?  Such a great start…)

Harry and I are not black and white about this, and Harry’s particularly good at keeping me gray given my tendency to be all-or-nothing about choices.  We’re going to eat whatever meals people share with us and be thankful for that time of fellowship and food.  We’re going to enjoy meals at restaurants.  And while we’d like to support restaurants that avoid factory farmed meat, it won’t always happen or be possible.  (We are discovering that vegetarian options at restaurants often taste better, though!)  We’re striving to do our best but there’s plenty of room for grace.  This is a journey.  We understand that others may not agree, are at different spots in their own journey, or don’t know about the situation.  It is all relatively new to us, too, and we’re very aware of how much more we have to learn.  We love to dialogue about it and have gleaned tremendous amounts of insight from those further along this road, as well as from those who aren’t on it at all.

There is so much more to write about, but I’ll end with a little of what has been required to make this happen: careful time management and planning of social events during the week, a definite dedication to cooking, reading more recipes to expand my repertoire, and initially, more trips to grocery stores because I couldn’t find things I needed at certain ones.  It all requires a mindfulness that wasn’t necessary when I knew I had some packaged item in the freezer we could cook up.  In a crunch, stovetop oatmeal or plain whole wheat pasta just isn’t as appealing as potstickers and frozen pizza.

Charlie also spiced things up on Easter.  Our church meets at 5pm so after some at home egg-hunting we spent the morning eating amazing Bakery Nouveau twice baked croissants, making egg sand castles on Alki Beach and picking up tulips at the market.  After his nap, Charlie didn’t want to change out of his pajamas for church.  Harry and I have decided to give him control over things that don’t matter, as much as possible, and this includes clothing most times.  Typically, Charlie changes his mind right as we’re exiting about wearing pajamas out and about, but Sunday he stayed true to his original desire.  So, to our Easter Sunday service, he wore his way-too-short Thomas pajama top, which reveals his belly button with any arm movements, and his dinosaur pajama bottoms.  A lot of the evening he also kept on his froggy hat.  Why didn’t we take a picture?!

I’ll be at 40-weeks on Saturday.  Uncle Steve just reminded us that we never did the name game, like we did when we found out Charlie was a boy…oh, at say, 20-weeks?!  Go for it, folks.  Try to guess.  And if, you happen to know already, clearly DO NOT PARTICIPATE! :)  (Family, none of you know…just some friends.)

Another incredibly endearing moment today came while we were picnicking and playing at Green Lake to enjoy a beautiful first day of spring.  The park and playground were packed to the gills with young kids and parents.  Charlie and his friend James were playing baseball and soccer but apparently needed rest breaks, so they ran over to the edge of the playground to sit for a bit.  Charlie sat down on the cement boundary next to a young lady and began chatting with her.  James sat down farther away with his eye on the merry-go-round.  I decided to join Charlie to help put that mom at ease, since she was clearly looking for this young boy’s caregiver, and to hear what he’d have to say to her.  “Did you make a new friend, Charlie?”  “I did!  I made a new friend.  [Begins yelling to Harry, who is 30 feet away]  Papa!  I made a new friend.  Papa can’t hear me, I’d better go tell him.” He runs over, excitedly tells Harry and returns.  She graciously engages him in conversation and Charlie tells her all about playing ball.

Earlier this week Charlie wanted to take me to the pretend aquarium before we headed off to the real one.  He sat in his driver’s seat on our green chair after buckling me into my car seat on the couch.  Then, his instructions came.  “Mama, ask me, ‘Where are we going, Charlie?’”  “Charlie, where are you taking me?”  “I already told you, mama, to the aquarium!”  We have received this type of instruction followed by a reprimand many, many times in the past few weeks.  He’s definitely in the developmental stage of wanting to be older, more independent and more responsible.  “I can do it myself!!!”  It just might be perfect timing for his little brother to arrive.  I think getting to help out with baby care will be a ton of fun for Charlie.  Maybe I’ll even let him change a diaper for a nice change of pace ;)

I have been showered with exceptionally lovely times with friends this week.  I am still soaking it all in.  Simple playdates with great conversation.  A delectable dessert night sharing stories of adapting to mothering two, complete with laughs so hard I almost gagged, heartfelt tears, and deep encouragement.  A great morning brunch with my precious grad school friends and the little ones.  Knowing how challenging it is to have a conversation with a three year old present, I can only imagine what my phone calls and interactions with friends are going to be like after the baby arrives.  Probably rather short.  Or, I’ll just get used to conversing with loud background noise, like most of my friends who have two or more kids.  It’s the non-mom listeners that will have to get used to that change.  I will probably rely on email a lot more.

One more celebratory note: I think we are officially done with our moving to-do list!  Even our taxes have been filed. Oh, yeah.

I’m starting to feel really ready, though, and that feels great.  There’s the obvious physical reasons to be excited– no more reflux!  sleeping however I want!  peeing less frequently!– but I am also getting anxious to snuggle with the little bundle and discover who he is.  When I look through all of Charlie’s early pictures I am reminded of the precious fleeting times of newborn life.  Little sleeper, sweet reflexes, intense eye gazes, swaddling.  I want to treasure those moments no matter how tired I am.  If this baby sleeps better than Charlie did, I will be extremely grateful, but I’m expecting the worst.  At least I can be pleasantly surprised that way.  Thankfully I also have perspective to know that sleep will come.  And even with sleep, I’ll still be tired caring for two little ones, so I might as well learn to function joyfully while fatigued.

I am also looking forward to seeing Charlie interact with the baby.  He loves to kiss and hug my belly and often requests to do so whenever I’m rubbing it or feeling the baby.  He’s asking more and more questions, too.  “Will the baby be able to eat chocolate?”  “Will the baby take my toys?”  He also weaves in his persistent line of commenting regarding speech and language development of all toddlers and babies.  “He won’t be able to say ‘as’ but Glory and Elena can say ‘as’ (their old pronunciation of eyes).  And he won’t be able to say papa.  And Glory and Elena can’t say Charlie.”  This has *not* been influenced by his SLP mom, I promise.  In fact, one of my biggest pet peeves is when people overtly correct children’s speech errors.  It’s so strange but he really is rather obsessed with what younger kids can’t say and likes to bring it up in conversation in front of them.  Thank goodness they’re too young to care.

Anyways, I’m thankful that we’ll be adding to our family soon.  And, while I can, I should go get a full night’s sleep.  Or maybe read a bit about what people expecting a baby should have ready before it comes.

I am extremely thankful we went somewhere kid-friendly.  All they did was introduce him to the tools, touch his teeth a bit, “count them”, and get him used to the office.  I held his hand when he was a bit nervous in the reclining and rising chair, but otherwise, he was completely comfortable.  An assistant said he was the most polite patient they’d ever had so he could have two toys.  He picked two of the exact same toy.  I’m not sure if he misunderstood or really wanted two plastic bunnies.

Our to-do list is slowly getting smaller.  What we have completed in the past three months makes my head spin a bit.  I’m going to do some self-indulgent reflecting on all of these tasks for a minute: house ready for market, maintaining cleanliness & neatness for showings, Harry interviewing, lining up movers, packing our stuff-including sorting, donating, shredding, etc…, celebrating holidays and birthdays, moving, finding a rental, unpacking, finding midwives & doctors and going to appointments, registering our car, getting driver’s licenses, surviving all of us being sick, finding a dentist, finding a preschool, Charlie’s third birthday, dealing with a water back-up in the basement and no washing machine for a week, dealing with a broken dryer for nearly two weeks,  getting insurance quotes, trying to find someone to cover our vacant home, and probably a zillion other things I’ve forgotten because half of my brain is somewhere near the interstate in Utah.  Plus, just regular life stuff like laundry, cooking, playing with and nurturing Charlie, and getting groceries.  And Harry adjusting to a new job.  Oh yeah, and I’m 33 weeks pregnant and feeling rather large.  Please know that I’m aware how whiney that all could sound.  While it has been exhausting,  I know our problems and task lists are luxurious and that most people would love to trade us for their own.  I’m just wanting to record this so that I’m reminded of how well cared for we’ve been during such a full period of life.  It is not a complaint, although admittedly I have entered that zone many times during the past few months.

The harder times have been well balanced with lots of beautiful, fun, and exciting times, like enjoying conversation and meals with friends, exploring our new neighborhood in our old city, savoring delicious coffee and baked goods, relishing being back at our church, and soaking in the most beautiful February week Seattle has ever known.  (I don’t know if that’s really true, but it has been phenomenal.)  What I have learned these past three months is to rely more deeply on God’s provision.  He provided for us in amazing ways by getting us here so quickly and ultimately with perfect timing (although we couldn’t see this at the time).  Our friends and church here have taken such good care of us- helping us with everything from providing places to sleep, meals, unpacking, playdates, to sanding and priming tables for goodness sake!

On one of the beautiful days this week Charlie and I took his bike out for a spin.  Since we were out of beans we stopped at Macrina for me to grab some java.  Charlie entered and Ellen, who is probably his favorite worker there (and she admits to having a crush on Charlie), happily greeted him and commented on his cool helmet.  He proudly displayed it for her and proceeded to tell her that his bike is cool too and that he’d like a treat.  He is really comfortable in stores now and loves to order his own items, with or without his parents’ permission.  Thankfully, the workers usually confirm with us.  After Macrina and some playground time we biked back home, only to see backhoes and dumptrucks down the street.  Charlie and I ended up sitting on someone’s stairs for nearly a half hour so he could watch.  Near the end of our stay he started playing his sippy cup like a guitar and called it his milk guitar.  He cheerfully made up a song, played air guitar and watched the backhoe.  The sun was shining, an enormous cherry tree was within my view, the Olympics were also within sight and all was perfect.  Well, except for the fresh, wet bird poop that was on the stairs right next to us, tempting Charlie to finger paint.

After having read a summary of the book, engaging in conversations with many friends about it, and wanting to read it for months, I FINALLY have “Raising an Emotionally Intelligent Child” in my hands!!!  I am so excited.  I feel like this could be one of the most important books Harry and I read as parents because implementing Gottman’s ideas into our parenting might be the most emotionally formative choice we make.  I am already slightly familiar with some of his principles from my graduate school training, particularly the counseling course, and have tried to acknowledge and validate Charlie’s emotions, so I’m thankful that I don’t feel like I’m being repeatedly hit over the head with all of the ways I’ve parented poorly.  But, geez, it’s humbling.  It is such a balance to keep their emotions in mind, respect their needs and desires, and still get out the door in time for appointments.  Maybe this is why we were late to our first visit to the new pediatrician.  Yes, it was that I favored emotional well-being over promptness, that’s it!

After doing research on pediatric dentists and discovering that those recommended by friends here or ranked high on the websites I viewed were not in our plan, I called a random dentist office today and asked about his pediatric experience.  His receptionist actually said, “Well, he’s getting better.  [I'm silent in disbelief and she continues]   He has a four year old now and he seems to be more understanding.”  Clearly, not someone I’m going to send him to, especially after reading the Gottman book 12 hours prior!  I get off the phone, talk with Aaron about our completed coffee tables (I am *so* excited to have these sanded & primed, ready for our fun new paint colors!), and he recommended their dentist.  In our plan, scheduled perfectly, and with a view of Puget Sound!  At least one of us will enjoy that part.  And I can reward Charlie with a trip to the beach after his dental visits.

Lastly, I have been thinking a lot about America’s food industry.  I watched a few more clips (one was a Katie Couric interview with Dr. Kessler and Eric Schlosser, another was a TED.org lecture with Jamie Oliver, and the last was a Michael Pollan lecture available on hulu.com) and engaged in conversation with Angie about Eating Animals, a book she’s reading.  I am becoming increasingly convinced that our food choices are not only important for our health and for the environment, but for the well-being of our neighbors…mostly our poor, third-world, developing country neighbors who are at the mercy of our choices.  Taking the steps to live more sustainably and responsibly are not easy.  They require giving up convenience (boxed cereal in the morning or stovetop oatmeal? mac & cheese for kids or a prepared lunch?), weaning ourselves off the sugar and salt we’re accustomed to in processed foods, and learning to find entertainment and pleasure outside of eating out at restaurants that serve questionable food (which is most of the affordable ones).  We’re going to take a few more small steps…starting with getting rid of cereal and macaroni and cheese.  We’re going to regularly have stovetop oatmeal and alternate with granola.  I’m going to try to make some homemade mac & cheeses and see if Charlie takes to any of them, but if not, he’ll slowly forget about his love for the boxed wonder.  And we’ll all be healthier because of it.

Alright, I’m not editing this, so my apologies for errors.  I’m tired but I want to post.  Good night!