Continued Adventures in Home Birth

She waited as long as she wanted

Arabelle was late. Well, late by our estimation. There is so much guess work in determining a due date, she may have been born right on time. But as of Sunday, Feb 7th 2016, this baby was two weeks and two days "late". (I almost spelled "latte" there. I am so tired.)

We went grocery shopping Saturday night since walking around is one of the things they tell you will get labor started. Plus we wanted a ton of snacks on hand for the possibly long labor. We came home with food around 9pm, but it was around 11 that Laura started to feel sharp pains that "could be a contraction". So we all went to bed.

where it gets real, really fast

Laura got up around 2:30am, which is typical of her nightly bathroom trips she'd been making for the last few weeks. With her insomniac nesting she'd been up to since 39 weeks, I was used to her going missing in the middle of the night. She would tell me later that she couldn't sleep because of contractions, but she wanted me "to get more sleep"; labor is a long process, I might as well sleep through the boring part, right? Have I mentioned she's way too considerate?

At 5am, I was awakened by the sound of loud labor moaning that I've heard on only two other occasions. After briefly considering trying to go back to sleep, I got up to see how she was feeling. "They're pretty strong. My back hurts now." That tells me two things: I need to set up the birthing tub, and things are moving fast. So I start moving fast.

I get the tub out and set up the space in the living room with a shower curtain to protect the carpet from spillage. Then I realize I forgot to charge the electric air mattress pump. So now I'm on the floor, blowing dozens of liters of air into the tub, taking short breaks to wait for the dizziness to wear off. Every time I stop I hear "how much longer 'til you can fill it?" 20 minutes later, we have a tub starting to fill with warm water.

By now I've confirmed the contractions are strong and ~2 mins apart. Time to call the midwife.
Now that our midwife is on her way, all we have to wait for is the tub to fill. 20 more minutes of "wow, that one was strong" and "is there enough water to get in?"

6:15am "Yes, let me help you in."

plenty of time (warning - birth is graphic)

Laura is in the tub, water still pouring in, I sit down and start timing contractions again. Long, strong, but further apart in the tub. We still had hours last time, I just need to be supportive.

One contraction. "I feel like I need to push soon."

Two contractions. "The water isn't helping much, that really hurt."

With Laura sitting, leaning back against the tub, I take a peak at the situation. Bag of waters (aka amniotic sac) is bulging out. I'm thinking "oh well, her water will break soon."

Next contraction. Amniotic bubble is still intact, but much larger, and there is now a baby's head inside it. 

Oh, so we're doing this. Deep breath. Okay.

I reach under to check for a cord. Nothing around the neck, nose is facing down. All good.

Last contraction. Mimicking the motions I've seen in videos and previous births, I gently push down to free the shoulder and she's out and in my hands under the water. She's shrouded head to knees in the sac with just her feet sticking out the end. So I gently grab the membrane at the top of her head and it slides off her like gossamer. Then I say "ready?" and lift her just out of the water and into Laura's arms. We wait a few seconds and baby girl takes a breath, and another, and then starts a little cry. Perfect. I grab towels to wrap her and Laura looks at me with a face that just can't believe it.

This face:

That just happened

So baby is breathing, pinking-up, covered in "baby cheese" (Vernix Caseosa; Latin, "cheesy varnish"), midwife and midwife-in-training on their way, our toddler sleeping through it all in the next room. 6:30am.

Did I fish out afterbirth like it was nothin'? Yes, because nothing bothers me anymore.

There was another fun quirk of technology: At some point just after the catch and hand-off, I had pulled out my phone, dialed our midwife, hit speaker, and tossed it onto the couch next to us, hoping she'd pick up and we could update her like "baby is out now, situation normal", but because of highway dead zones, it went to voicemail and they got a recording that is both special for us and too low quality to post here. Snippets of speech, a baby cries, we're ecstatic and nervous; pretty much what you'd expect.

dear diary - what a day...

Planning a home birth is mostly being prepared for all the possibilities. Life is messy, unpredictable, joyful. Sometimes you have to be ready to catch your own baby.

Our birth team came in and took over, handled all the aftermath in a few hours, got Mom and Baby settled, and were gone again by afternoon. I drained and deflated the tub, washed the towels, and put the coffee table back in the middle of the floor. Same house, same family, just one more of us, only 12 hours after labor started. 

build a better meatloaf

I have had some bad meatloaf from some very well meaning people, some from actual restaurants, and all suffering from the same problems: spongy texture, bland flavor, and over-baking. They are, of course, all linked together, but since I've decided to come back to blogging with my own instructional recipes, I want to break down an often maligned classic entree and return it the kitchen rotation of new cooks that think they "don't like meatloaf." (Or scroll down to skip to the recipe)

problem one: boring flavor

Ground beef is a popular meal base because it can be just about anything. Chopped and fried, it can be added to most sauces or bakes to make a side dish into an entree. But served as a greasy slice of meat-bread hybrid, it can take a lot of ketchup to make it edible.

The seasoning of meatloaf isn't very complicated, but I'm willing in this instance to rely on Stove Top to provide the herb mix and croutons (I also buy it in bulk during the holidays when it's only $1 a box.) Onion, garlic and Lea & Perrins Original bring the dish to a much better flavor profile for a beef dish. Alton Brown likes to grind his croutons into breadcrumbs (a next level recipe), but I prefer to leave them whole. It saves time cleaning the food processor, as well as making a firmer loaf.

problem two: greasy mush meat

One version of meatloaf we grew up with was made with saltines. This is a war-time filler to make a small portion of meat bigger for a family. But saltines are going to take a perfectly good meat product and make it taste like wet sawdust. The worst thing to do to a relatively weak flavor like ground beef is mix it with a ton of flour. Crackers are 99% flour, so they're great to soak up soup broth, but adding them to meatloaf turns it into a grease-soaked sponge sitting in a bread loaf pan. Which brings us to...

problem three: the loaf part

Do not put your meatloaf in a loaf pan. This pan is a waste of money. Very simply, your meatloaf will not soften and rise like a yeasty white bread, so don't bake it like one. Use a baking sheet. This meatloaf is held together by the egg, which cooks at a lower temperature than the meat, holding everything together on the baking sheet as it cooks. The grease runs off naturally to one corner of the pan, and it even cooks faster.

the recipe

1 lb ground beef (80/20 "chuck" is best)

1 box stuffing mix (chicken flavor, white bread)* 

1/2 cup minced onion

1 clove garlic, pressed or finely minced

1 egg

1/4 cup milk

2 Tbls worcestershire sauce

3 Tbls ketchup for glaze

1 large bowl or stand mixer
1 baking sheet w/1" lip

Mix beef, garlic, egg, milk, onion and worcestershire sauce in large bowl, or stand mixer. Once well mixed, fold in stuffing mix. Gather meat into a ball, transfer to a foil lined baking sheet and shape into loaf (about 4in x 8in). Coat the loaf in a thin layer of ketchup to prevent over-browning. Bake at 350F for 35 minutes or until a external digital thermometer reads 160F. Allow to cool 10 minutes before serving. Serves 4.

*I normally don't use pre-packaged ingredients, but this time convenience and flavor beat religiously cooking from "scratch"

Enjoy! 

Birth Story - Home Edition

We prepared for a home birth two years ago that didn't end as we planned, but that was no one's fault and my wife was able to finish strong at a hospital with no complications. But that is another story for another time.

This story is how we came to meet Gwendolyn.

a room with no view

Our apartment is average for a three bedroom. The main issue is that we have accumulated enough possessions to fill an average house. My wife, Laura, has already bought all the clothes we'll need for any and all children we have, as well as any orphans and foundlings that turn up (up to size 2T). Having a thrift store with a great selection just down the street has proved to be a great resource and a storage nightmare. But somehow, with all the cramming, boxing, and moving everything we can into the basement, we've managed to carve out a nursery that had room for a 60 gallon birthing tub. Thanks to a two-hundred-year-old oak, the single window gets little sunlight, but it does allow a nice breeze, as on the day we needed it.

Having everything purchased and tested ahead of time gave us more options for decorating, settling on a Hundred Acre Wood theme with little "hunny pots" and branches suspended from the ceiling. Cozy and feeling prepared, we waited for labor to start naturally. And at nine days past her due date, Gwendolyn had waited long enough.

before dawn

Sleeping next to a pregnant woman is not always a reasonable option. Laura had several pregnancy related symptoms that didn't just keep her up at night, but also separated us several nights a week. Constant dry-mouth thirst combined with little room in the pelvis means mama doesn't sleep more that three hours at a time without a potty break. Heartburn, hot flashes, itchy skin - you name it, it was keeping her up at night. So when insomnia gave way to exhausted deep sleep, she relaxed so completely that snoring became my lullaby. Not "wow, it'll be hard to sleep now" snoring, but "woke me up from my own sleep and drove me out to the couch" snoring. Somewhere between a chainsaw and an outboard motor in sound and decibel level, I could still hear her through closed doors and walls between us.

This night, however, I heard sounds of discomfort. Loud enough to wake me up and odd enough to raise concern I asked, "What was that?" She said, "About ten minutes." She had been awake since a quarter to five, and having taken a walk around the block, returned after several consistent contractions. Now I'm wide awake at six in the morning, pulling out my phone to start the timer for the next one.

keeping time

The next ten hours passed with little to mention. Contractions got stronger and closer together. We alerted our midwife (and then backup midwife, more on that later) that today is the day! We didn't want anyone to get too excited until we were in active labor, so we held off on calling anyone else but our mothers. Hours passed without noticing much time. I was always getting food and water, and checking the stopwatch function on my phone religiously to track progress. Everything was going so well that when labor kicked into high gear, it was almost surprisingly on track. Our first experience with labor was start and stop, three steps forward, two steps back. Two days of waiting only to transfer to a hospital when Laura was too exhausted to continue without some rest. But not this time, not this baby. She was on her way, and with contractions now becoming painfully strong, we called the midwife.

"you're not going anywhere"

Early labor, with slow and steady progress, is quite manageable. With a little to eat, a little to drink, some Netflix, time passes. Laura was handling it like a champ. Then active labor feels like you're losing control. Each new contraction could feel like an eternity or come and go quickly. At least, that was the impression I was getting from Laura, who was now attached to me like I was her anchor in the rising tide of pain. On her knees and leaning over the rim of the tub, she wouldn't let me move anymore, gripping my arms or legs to be sure I didn't leave her side. I would sit in that folding chair for the duration. Once, I thought to make a phone call, or scoot back a little, and she grabbed me and said, "You're not going anywhere!" and I decided I'd have to call her mother later (when I did finally call Grandma Jill to tell her about her new granddaughter, she said "But... I didn't get there!" Sorry, Mom, I was going to call, but I was too busy "helping".)

The next hour was all action. We got meet our new midwife, the highly esteemed B we had heard so much about (our midwife was on a vacation that weekend, so her midwife came in her absence.) And she was wonderful. The kindest, most gentle woman we could have hoped for. She was there right in time and she really eased into the situation, checking vitals and taking notes. About then, M arrived as well, a birth assistant and doula, who was there when our son was born. Laura was reaching the end of her tolerance for the pain and strain on her body when they arrived, but we didn't have to wait much longer.

labor land is a real place

Laura went into a trance at this point. Aware of only the here and now, communication with a woman in active labor is about short and direct sentences. I was no longer of help in this area, I didn't know what to do, and couldn't see anything from my position. Laura was starting to nod off between contractions, so the next part was a bit of a blur for both of us. All of a sudden, she was startled awake by the fact that she was pushing, without her knowledge or consent. Her body had switched modes and was now ready to bring baby on out. Screaming at the sudden strength and purpose of the contraction, she was snapped out of her sleep. "I'm pushing!" Laura yelled. The midwife said, "Go right ahead, baby is almost here." M got her attention and explained what to do next. It was just what Laura needed to focus and give it all she had. Just a few more pushes and baby was in the water. Laura rolled and sat up and they handed us our slippery little angel. 

We just stared at her as she gasped and coughed, taking in her few first few breaths. It took five minutes before we even checked if she was a girl or boy. We were just stunned she was finally here.

Not once have I thought it could have been any better. 12 hours of labor, the perfect timing of our birth team. Laura and baby in perfect health. I am so thankful for all the great work and support.

no regrets

Home birth was and is the best decision for our family. If you have a low risk pregnancy, I highly recommend you consider it and talk to a Certified Nurse Midwife right away. Always go with the highest level of care you can find for you and your baby, and never settle for the second best option. Let your birth story be about what you did, not what "happened to you."

Our Home Birthing FAQ

Watch it, it's a good show. Bring tissues.

When you're preparing for a baby, people love to give advice and ask personal questions. Most mean well, and they are really just trying to gauge what kind of person you are by your birth/child related choices. Others are downright pushy. But this post is about the surprising variation in what people expect based on certain bits of information, and conclusions they jump to when you mention you're planning a home birth. A few categories:

The skeptics

"What do I do?" "Nothing dear, you're not qualified."

Advancement in TV medical drama has produced a hospital-based birth expectation among people that grew up watching American-style TV. There is an expectation of a birth "emergency", but childbirth is usually a slow, steady process with predictable success. I've been asked a few standard questions from this side.

"What if something goes wrong?"

My wife is a rock star. For our first child, she was in labor for ~63 hours, when our midwife recommended we move her to a hospital when she failed to progress half-way through the second night of labor. An epidural and a few hours sleep allowed her to recharge and have a successful natural birth of our 11 lbs baby. Yes, 11 lbs. It was the right choice to move to the hospital, there were very simple complications. However, we will be laboring at home for a planned home birth again. It is very likely we will be successful at home this time. We are dedicated to creating an environment of non-intervention until it's clear that medical intervention will be needed to avoid a crisis situation. Hospitals are built for crisis, and doctors get impatient when you go off their textbook timetables. Home birth is the right choice for us because there is no reason to believe that we are in more danger birthing at home than in a hospital.

"Is this a hippie thing?"

No, we are not doing a home birth out of a counter-culture rejection of modern medicine. We love modern medicine. But medicine is for when something is wrong. Most births are completely normal and require very little help from anyone. If things start going sideways, there is usually plenty of time to transfer to a hospital when intervention becomes necessary. Until then, we plan on being at home for the duration of labor and delivery.

"Do people still do that?"

Yes, in fact we know several people who have, including my own mother with all four of her children. Home birth has never been totally off the radar, and is just as safe for normal "low risk" pregnancies as hospital birth.

The naturopaths

I love our birthing community; the midwives and doulas in our area do amazing work. At the extreme end of this birthing spectrum are some folks who are really, really into home birth. They also tend to be into home everything. Backyard gardens, homemade clothes, home-brewed beer. They are dedicated to green and natural living, and that is wonderful. However, some of them also believe in a few odd things that lead to other questions:

"Are you going to eat/encapsulate the placenta?"

No. My lifelong goal of not willfully consuming human flesh prohibits me from eating placenta, no matter what dubious claims of nutrition are reported, or magical powers it may bestow. We may bank the cord blood because that is breaking science that could save lives someday, including our own.

"Will you be vaccinating?"

Yes, most certainly. Vaccination has saved thousand of lives, and countless millions of dol... no wait, they did count it up. $395 Billion dollars saved, and that's just because of the last 20 years of vaccination. "Polio cases have decreased by over 99% since 1988, from an estimated 350 000 cases then, to 406 reported cases in 2013. The reduction is the result of the global effort to eradicate the disease."

It's a proven science. Do you know what has been disproved? The link to autism.

The religious

They might have opinions about home birth, but this group is mainly concerned about rituals and rites, and so these questions only make sense in a religious context. I was raised in the church, but some people can be more than a little pushy. I'm only including them because these questions have come up more often than I expected.

"Will you be circumcising?"

I understand that there are some religious and ethnic traditions that continue to be observed, even when there is no good reason for mutilating an infant's genitals. As for my sons, they will be left as they are, just like the girls. The more I think about it, the more strange it becomes to even consider it.

"When will they be baptized?"

If all goes well, we might just bless the birthing tub water and consider it done. Otherwise, I'm sure it will come up at some point later and they can decide for themselves if baptism is for them. 

We will be fine

Really, if you've read this far, we don't need any more advice, but we love talking about birthing choices. Home birth is a natural choice that be made in a rational, science-loving home. If you still have questions, you can ask me on Facebook or Twitter. 

Post-PAX Super Let Down Show

All that glisters is not gold

I have been looking forward to attending a Penny Arcade Expo since long before I was able to snag a couple tickets in the internet free-for-all that is PAX ticket sales. They sell out in mere hours, and many of them are then resold for many times their face value on the web. But the vast majority are purchased for personal use, with the envious have-nots told they should have been quicker. I wanted this to be the ultimate gamer party, a land of acceptance, nerd pride, and gamer glory. What my wife and I found was a truly cheap experience, making our $75 3-Day-Badges (which we were constantly asked to show to Enforcers) feel about as special as the plastic they are printed on.

I got a golden ticket...?

The first thing you learn about PAX tickets is that they are by far the least expensive thing about a trip to Boston. Airfare, lodging, transportation, food, hand sanitizer... it all adds up to WAY more money spent than PAX alone can make it worth the trip. Which is why my wife and I showed up a couple days early so we could take in the local sights and history of Boston. It's a beautiful city, with a high density of American heritage. Paul Revere, Ben Franklin, Samuel Adams, George Washington all spent a lot of time in Boston to say and do all the things needed to start a war with England. We walked the Freedom Trail from Boston Common to Charlestown. We stood at the site of the Boston massacre, we sat in a pew at the Old North Church, and we walked the decks of the well-preserved USS Constitution. This was worth the trip in my mind, as we had a great (thought tiring) time walking through history. Going to PAX was bit of a let down after taking in so much real meaning and culture. But that is only the beginning of the problems that adult perspective lets you see.

PAX is too many things going on at the same time, and few are done well. Let's start where we did: the Expo floor. To get in before 11am, you have to join the queue and sit on a concrete floor for... well, it depends on how long you want to wait in each line. Show up at the Convention center and wait for two hours on a cold slab, you get to be first on the Expo floor, so if you hurry (and can quickly find the booth you want to see most), you only have to wait a few minutes before you can try the 10-15 demo of the game that will be on sale in a month anyway (if it's not already available). If you choose to wait in the main queue only an hour, you might be waiting another hour in the booth queue anyway. We saw capped (maxed out) booth queues with four hour estimated wait times. That's half the day. For a 10 minute demo. I would suggest that the exhibitors don't know what the hell they are doing, but after one XBOX booth attendant rejected my suggestion how they could speed up their hands-off demo of their open beta I-could-download-it-to-my-PC-right-now "game maker" Project Spark, she told me they found the way they were doing one-on-one demos for 20+ minutes per person (at four stations) "provided a better experience." I told her waiting in line for 45 minutes watching the group demo right in front of us to be sufficient experience and promptly left the line. 

There were a few nice things that happened down there. I got to meet and lose a match to a Killer Instinct game dev. We got to run around collecting pins and buttons from the various booths that were giving them away with each demo. We tried a lot of really nice indie games, some of which we will be buying instead of an XBOX. But best of all, we got to leave the expo floor, leaving it's confusing, unlabeled tape line queues and underwhelming exhibits for the next thing we heard were fun at PAX: Panels.

Walk your feet off and then sit your butt off

Good gravy, the Boston Convention and Exhibition Center is HUGE. It is, no joke, 1000 ft end-to-end, 600 ft wide, and 3.5 floors. Did I mention that I'm too old for this crap? I had already spent two days walking around Boston, and now I was going to spend 8 hours a day on my already aching feet trying to get from one theater to the next, often from one end of the BCEC to the other. This is the part of PAX no one talks about - walking and waiting take more of your time than any other activity. Nothing is worse than waiting in the expo queues, but waiting for everything started to get on my nerves. Mostly my leg nerves, because sitting on the floor isn't something people over 30 are good at anymore, and certainly not my 6-months-pregnant wife. However, the nicest people I got to meet at PAX I met in queue for a panel. The experience feels a lot like church - you're sitting too close to people you don't know, but you're both there for the same reasons. Before you know it, you're talking and joking, and you never even learn each other's names. I mean, I didn't get anyone's name the whole time we were there. The queue friendships are many, but fleeting. It helps to develop the sense of community everyone raves about PAX, but it doesn't help that half of the panels you attend aren't worth waiting for in the first place. 

Some panels are made of experts in their field, but put on boring, business-like presentations. Others are just enthusiasts of one kind or another but know little about public speaking. For every panel worth attending, you get 20 minutes into the next one and start thinking "Damn, I should have gone to the panel instead!" With literally hundreds of feet between you and the next panel on your schedule, any wasted time and energy becomes a severe disappointment. Also, there weren't anywhere near enough maps or signs to find your way around easily. We got lost and disoriented over and over again for the first two days, only really getting our bearings on Sunday. It was a constant frustration that would have been very, very easy to help by printing more "You Are Here" maps and signs directing you TO the specially named theaters that you only knew you had found by standing right in front of them.

Then there was the time we got on an elevator, then 13 more people got on the elevator, then the elevator didn't make it all the way down to the next floor, so we had wait 10 minutes to be freed by maintenance men. With a guy that thought he might puke. That was... terrifying. The point is, if you're going to PAX, you can't be too prepared for anything.

You get nothing! You lose! Good day, sir!

Overall, I had a good time at PAX, but not because they made it easy. It was a maze, a hike, a sham, and my casual gamer wife had nearly nothing to do. I laughed at the Make-A-Strip panel with Gabe and Tycho in a way that made me realize why I've been a fan of their work for so long. The concerts Friday and Saturday were very nice and made up for some of the BS that we had to deal with earlier in the day. Some of the cosplay was the most detailed, intricate work I have ever seen outside of the movies. We walked away with a collection of the rarest pins that were available at the show. And the best part for me is we got to meet most of the cast of PATV's Strip Search (probably my favorite reality show ever). Every one of the artists were just as warm and fun as they were on the show, and the conversations we got to have with some of them was like talking to friends. There was also a thousand things we didn't do at all, like compete in the game tournaments, try the open console play rooms, or demo tabletop games with the vendors. In the end, my Willy Wonka theme is holding true: you can walk into PAX expecting a magical experience, but in the end you have to give up all your expectations, hand in your everlasting gobstoppers and walk out knowing there is no lifetime supply of chocolate. The only thing we went home with is a little swag and a few nice memories of a few nice people that we never would have met without Penny Arcade. Was it worth it? Barely.

Gadgets, Utensils and Appliances

Why oh why are we obsessed with gadgetry in the kitchen? Most are supposed to ease a problem that no one has. I saw this one just yesterday:

The worst thing about cooking is touching or smelling like food

Now, a lot of things in my kitchen do just one thing, but they do it to many kinds of foods. Knives cut, peelers peel, blenders blend. Sometimes novelty spatulas are shaped as to ruin any utility:

What the hell am I supposed to do with a squirrel shaped spatula??

The gadgets come in when there is one task that you were never shown how to do properly. Egg separators are a good example. Sometimes we need just egg whites, but how to do we separate the yolk without breaking it? You could use an egg separator to catch the yolk, or carefully pick up the yolk with a water bottle, or you can do what chefs do:

Boom! That's one less gadget in the drawer. Some gadgets are worth it, like my garlic press and citrus zester, but there are dozens of one-task gadgets that you'll want to avoid. I don't know about you, but with my tiny kitchen, I need all my drawer space for utensils.

Three drawers and a utensil jar to be precise

Whip It

One way you'll know something is a utensil is if you might use it every day. I keep as many utensils where I can get at them quickly, and any other occasional-use tools go in a separate drawer. Your favorite foods and cooking habits may be different from mine, but some things are useful for every cook.
This is a short list of essential kitchen tools (play a seek-and-find game with the above image):
Knife set,
Large bowl,
2 smaller bowls,
Measuring cup and/or cups,
Measuring spoons,
Cooking spatula (AKA "turner"),
Silicone spatula (AKA "scraper"),
Peeler, 

Wooden mixing spoon,

Slotted spoon,

Ladle,

Whisk,

Kitchen shears,

Colander,

Sieve,
Grater/Shredder,

Can opener,

Tongs
Rolling pin
Oven mitts/pot holders
Apron

If you're still whipping eggs with a fork, a whisk is much better. If you're scraping all your bowls with a metal serving spoon, buy a nice spatula (a regular one, not a squirrel-shaped one.) Preparing food with nothing but tableware is a frustration you don't need when learning to cook all your own meals. Gather a few essentials you  might be putting off.

Electric Boogaloo

The most expensive things in your kitchen probably run on electricity. Toasters are ubiquitous. Everyone has a microwave now, but big or small, it's only going to be good for a few things, not meals. The three machines I wouldn't want to do without now are my blender, toaster oven and Kitchenaid stand mixer.

A blender is a blender, don't be fooled by "wave technology" or "bullet" designs. The rule of thumb is the more you pay for it, the less likely the motor or other moving parts will break. Glass is easier to clean than plastic, but is heavier. I've had good luck with Oster, but that's not an endorsement, just don't buy the cheapest blender at the store.

My toaster oven takes up a lot of counter space, but I use it every week. The convenience of toasting or baking small amounts of things on a digitally timed cycle with predictable temperature control is amazing. It saves time and energy, it doesn't heat my whole kitchen in summer, and I can use it when my oven is already occupied. I still use my oven for baking cakes, roasts, rise-in-oven pizzas, or pastries, but when I want freezer to oven entrees like breaded fish fillets or chicken strips, it's so nice to set the timer and walk away knowing they won't over-bake.

"There are many like it, but this one is mine."

Last but importantly, my KitchenAid stand mixer is the most used appliance I own. There are other brands, yes, but KitchenAid dominates the stand mixer market because of reliability. If you're on a budget, an electric hand-mixer at a tenth the price works just as well for many things, with a little more time and effort. But if you can save up, even the base model or a used KitchenAid can do things the hand mixers can't, like knead pizza dough and stir thick cookie dough.

That's all for now. Make the best use of the space and time you have. Remember you're cooking for health and connection to your food. Avoid lazy gadgetry and buy the most useful tools for your collection. 

transitional informatics

My blogging has been slowing down due to a serious mental instability that I inherited from my progenitors. I am like a lot of personal bloggers in that I need this as a way to get the thoughts out of my head, otherwise I become overwhelmed with competing drives and I end up wasting entire days doing nothing. I used to think this fault was a lack of will or pressure, and I would blame myself for being "lazy". But I can be a very hard worker, and for little to no money if I'm enjoying myself, but I didn't suspect this type of paralysis could be linked to my previously known bi-polar/anxiety issues. Just a heads up.

Also, I'm now employed as a letter-stuffing, phone-message-taking temp, full time. Which mean posts will be mostly on the weekends, with some short posts during the week. I will be live-blogging about our trip to PAX EAST 2014 in Boston, starting 4/8, which will be on my Tumblr and Twitter accounts (#PAXEast).

Check back soon for the next of my Food Noob Series, "Gadgets, Utensils and Appliances".

Until then, here's a Finnish magician blowing the minds of dogs with his mad skilz:

Laaaaaterrrrrrsssss...