Burnt Play-doh

Did you know you can cook Play-doh?

At my daughter's preschool, parents are required to sign up to bring in certain items for the classroom, one of which is the monthly supply of Play-doh. I signed up for January, which is blue.

What I didn't know is you cannot buy a tub of the store-bought kind, but the school wants you to home-make it by mixing common household ingredients and heating it over the stove. I'm not sure why this is, but I'm guessing it's in case one of the more curious children decide they'd like to eat Play-doh. I'm not sure what the store-bought kind is made of, but the home-made kind is made with all edible ingredients, but I would never recommend that parents pack it in their kids' lunches as a snack. Although, given my recent allergic reactions to food, I have to admit I was mildly curious to try it since it doesn't contain any of my no-no foods. I''m getting desperate here, people!

The school provides the following recipe:
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Ingredients:

• 3 Cups Flour
• 3 Tablespoons Oil
• 1 1/2 Cups Salt
• 2 Tablespoons Cream of Tartar
• 3 Cups Water
• Food Coloring

Mix ingredients over low heat. Once mixture is not sticky to the touch, remove from heat. Allow to cool a few minutes. Knead mixture until soft and pliable. Store in a plastic zip-lock bag or an airtight container.

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Ok, I am not the most domestic person in the world, but I thought I could handle this simple, for-pre-school project. I followed the directions to a T. However, once in the pan and over the stove, the mixture remained very watery. I expected that it would become solid fairly quickly. I wasn't sure if I should continue to stir it over the stove or let it sit. Nothing was happening and I was growing impatient very quickly, so I turned the heat up from Low to Middle and left the mixture on the stove quite a bit longer than I had anticipated it would take. The mixture started to bubble in big, scary blobs. I was very afraid that it might suddenly explode and leave a royal blue glob on our porcelain white ceiling, so I removed it from the stove. It still appeared liquified to me. After poking it with a spoon, I discovered that there was just a thin layer of liquid on the top, and the lower half seemed to be solid. Because I didn't want to be mistakened for a Smurf the next day at work, I put on a pair of plastic gloves so that I could grab and knead pieces of the mixture. Well, I had apparently left the mixture on the stove too long because I soon discovered burnt blue Play-doh stuck to the bottom of the pan. Leave it to me to burn Play-doh!!!

Luckily, I could salvage enough of the middle, unburned, non-liquified portion of the Play-doh for my daughter to bring to school. It was not pretty. It smelled awful. But it was still pliable. Gimme a break already, I'm trying.

Grilled Hamster

After suffering from an allergic reaction to something last week, I asked my allergist to send me the results of the Allergy Skin Test I took a few years ago. Here are the results (on a scale from 0 - 4, 0 indicating no reaction - 4 indicating a very severe reaction):

Epidermals
Cat 2
Dog 0
Feathers 0
Horse 2
Hamsters 0
Dust Mites
Mite (D.Far.) D2 0
Mite (De.Pter.) D3 3
Molds 1
Alternaria 0
Hormodendrum 0
Penicillium Notatum 0
Aspergillus Fumigatus 2
Molds 2
Aspergillus Niger 2
Mucor 0
Rhizopus 0
Mols 3
Fusarium
Candida Albicans 0
Pullularia 0
Epicoccum 0
Trees #2
Ash 3+
Beech 3
Moutain Cedar 2
Cottonwood 0
Willow, Black 2
Weeds
Lamb's Quarter 3
Pigweed/Careless 3
Trees #3
Elm 0
Pine Mix. 2
Oak Mix. 3
Birch Mix. 0
Sycamore 3
Box Elder/Maple 3
Pecan Tree 2
Others
Ragweed, giant 4+
Ragweed, short 4+
Cocklebur Weed 4
English Plantain 4
Grass Mix 4+
Bermuda Grass 4
Cockroaches Mix. 2
Common Foods
Soy 4
Milk, Cows (whole) 3
Egg (whole) 4
Strawberry 0
English Walnut 0
Fix Mix. 4+
Banana 4
Wheat 4
Tomato 4
Peanuts Mix. 3
Beef 4
Chicken 3
Crab Mix. 3
Lobster 4

On the day I developed the hives I had consumed five of the items on the Common Foods list that are apparently big no-no's for me: (1) a banana (for breakfast); (2) peanuts - in the form of
peanut butter; (3) on wheat bread; (4) tomatoes on my salad at dinner; and of course (4) shrimp. And who knows - maybe a cockroach crawled over my food at the restaurant, really throwing my allergies over the edge!

So I guess it's not surprising that I experienced an allergic reaction. What is surprising is that I haven't had more outbreaks more often because I've been consuming most of these common foods on a regular basis without many incidents up until now. My allergist had said that I could start reacting more severely to these items at any time, so I guess my time is up. I have noticed that the hives that started last weekend have still not completely subsided. I'm getting sporadic splotchiness - and I've also had at least one of the items on this list every single day (chicken, beef, milk). So I guess I will have to go on an all strawberries and english walnuts diet!

I wonder if Grilled Hamster is any good...

Itchin' for Some Shrimp

I love shrimp. In the immortal words of fellow-shrimp lover Benjamin Buford Blue, better known as Bubba from Forrest Gump: Dey's uh, shrimp-kabobs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo. Pan fried, deep fried, stir-fried. There's pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich. That- that's about it. And it’s all good. Unless you’re allergic to shrimp.

Over the weekend, my husband took the family to a local seafood restaurant. I enjoyed shrimp scampi, garlic grilled shrimp, fried shrimp, a baked potato and a salad. Stuffed, I went to bed right after getting home. The next morning I woke up to find big, red, bumpy, itchy hives all over my face.

I’ve eaten shrimp before. Many, many times, although sporadically. I’ve never had a reaction to shellfish before, and I’m not entirely sure that the shrimp is to blame (I hope it’s not).

I have suffered from seasonal allergies (hay fever) for at least 16 years. Once the seasonal sneezing and itching became absolutely intolerable, I visited an allergist in search of relief, hoping I wouldn’t have to hibernate indoors every spring and fall. The doctor ran the whole gamut of allergy testing on me as standard procedure, which by the way is NOT fun. Those tests indicated that I was allergic to a very long list of things, many things I have enjoyed symptom-free all of my life. This list included, among other things, very standard items such as chicken, beef, cats. Of course I wasn’t consuming the latter, although I do wonder about some of the Chinese restaurants I’ve visited. The tests also indicated a reaction to shellfish. The doc said that as long as I wasn’t having reactions to those items, I could continue enjoying them as I always have, but at some point I might develop a reaction to some or all of them. I guess I reached that “some point” - at least in regards to the shellfish. Dangit.

This isn’t the first time that I have experienced an allergic reaction in the form of hives. I once developed hives after coming into contact with latex. And about two years ago, I had an outbreak very much like this one, but it was complicated with shortness of breath. Because of that, I found myself in the dreaded emergency room that evening. I don’t know why they call them emergency rooms because there is absolutely no sense of urgency in them whatsoever. They should be called “Wait-Here-for-at-Least-Three-Hours-and-We-Don’t-Care-How-Much-Pain-You-Are-In-Rooms.”

Now my case that evening was probably of the milder sort of “emergency,” but there was a guy in the waiting room who had literally cut his finger off. His now four-digit hand was wrapped in a towel, which was soaked with blood. He was writhing in obvious pain, complaining that he had already been there an hour. I told the receptionist that they better not dare call me in before this guy. About three hours later, I finally made my way into the examining room. We never did figure out what I had been exposed to that triggered the reaction. I was prescribed a week’s worth of steroids and Zyrtec.

My outbreak this weekend didn’t warrant that kind of treatment or the headache of the ER, so I just took my Allegra, hoping that would speed things along. If it hadn’t happened over the weekend, I definitely would’ve been in to see the doctor. But Monday morning I woke up to find most of it cleared up, with just traces of splotchiness and itching. My chin still feels like sandpaper, but at least I no longer look like I had been whipped in the face with a belt.

I’ve since done some research on the internet, and my reaction does seem to be in line with a shellfish allergy. However, I have also since learned that spoiled shrimp can release a histamine that can cause allergic reaction, including hives. Fair or not, we won’t be going to that restaurant again any time soon, but I also won’t be giving up my shrimp just yet either.

Sisterhood

My older daughter was just over a year old when I became pregnant with my second child. Friends and family thought we were nuts. You'll have two in diapers at the same time!, they'd say. Yeah, we knew. But we also knew we didn't want to extend the diaper-days over a long period of time either by spreading our kids far apart. This way, we'd get the diaper-filled, bottle-ridden, sleeplesss years over in one big bang. And boy did we. What we didn't consider is this "big bang" would leave us absolutely exhausted during these early years. We are starting to come up out of the fog, being diaper-free for almost a year, not having to hover over their every move in fear of them stumbling into certain death. But of course the old challenges are replaced with new ones.

The real reason we wanted to have our children close together in age was for the friendship and bond that they would certainly build. I have two brothers: one half-brother, who is nearly eight years older than me. I barely knew him, even though we lived under the same roof for the first 22 years of my life. We were always in vastly different stages of life. My other brother is two years younger than I am, which is the same age difference between my girls. He was my very best friend. Not just when we were toddlers or even kids; but even more so when we were in high school and young adults. We shared many of the same friends, hung out together on weekends, the whole bit. My relationship with him was the single-most important relationship I ever had, the one I was positively the most protective of, up until my marriage.

I had always hoped to replicate that same closeness and friendship between my own children. I ended up having two girls. Two beautiful, smart, funny girls. Each who knows that about themselves and even more so about the other. What does that breed, even at their tender ages? Closeness. Love. Friendship. Sure. But also competition. Jealousy. Conflict. Right now this mostly manifests in their unwillingness to share with each other. In fact, a lot of the time I feel like more of a referee than a mother. But I can already anticipate greater challenges arising out of sibling rivalry in the years to come, and I have a feeling sibling rivalry between sisters of such a close age is an entirely different beast. Something I have never been exposed to.

Even though my younger brother and I were close in age, I don't remember a lot of rivalry between us. That's not to say we didn't fight. Sure we did. I even remember a couple of occasions when I was a kid when I hit him. He'd hit me back. I'd tattle to my dad. My brother would get in trouble for hitting me, a girl. He should be tough enough to take it if you hit him, my dad would say. So, I'd get away with it (Man, that was wrong).

Even so, those scuffles were far and few between. I just don't remember anything like what I fear could potentially brew between my girls. My brother and I were into such different things that we really weren't in the same arena to even compete. I excelled in academics. My brother was a star athlete. Since our interests were different, we never wanted the possessions that the other had. While I was a bit of a tomboy, I still had the stereotypical "girl" toys: Barbies, Cabbage Patch dolls, Care Bears, you know - the standards. My brother stocked up on action figures, Hot Wheels, GI Joe, He-man and Skeletor. Sharing just wasn't an issue.

That's not the case with my girls. They are so close in age that they are both into the same exact things. These girls have no less than 50 Barbie dolls, no lie. But gosh dern it, if one kid has one particular doll, the other one MUST have just that particular one. Nothing else. And so the fight ensues: That's mine. - I had it first. - But that one is my favorite. - You can't have it. If I do not intervene, this normally progresses into a pinching match.

When the girls decide to play dolls, I try to be proactive and dump all of the dolls in the middle and have them pick one at a time, taking turns. This normally works for a few minutes, until one eyes a particularly desirable doll that the other one has. My four-year-old will either try to snatch it while my toddler isn't looking, or manipulate her way into convincing my toddler to give it to her. She likes ultimatums: I'll cry if you don't give me that doll. If you don't give me that doll, I won't play with you. I won't like you anymore. Or she tries reverse psychology: I think that doll is ugly. Why do you want it? Yep, she's good at this.

My two-year-old, while tough-as-nails, is also the most compassionate kid I have ever met. If her sister starts crying, normally she will break and give in. Even if her sister is in Time Out for doing something to her, she will join her in Time Out of her own free will and try to console her. She'll rub her back, kiss her, bring her things. But she's getting older and wiser, and while she still consoles her sister when she's sad, she's standing her ground these days, digging in those pudgy little heels, and retorts, Mine! You're mean!

My husband and I have decided that next year, we are getting all doubles for gifts. That way there will be no squabbling as to who gets what. But these are just toys, and that's just a quick fix. What are we going to do when it's more than that? I can already anticipate the challenges they (and thus we) will face as they get older, including boys. It is entirely possible and even likely that they will both end up liking the same boy at some point. Then the real drama will begin. Oh, the heartache.

I can honestly say that there hasn't been a single day in my life, even as a kid, that I wished I had a sister. I knew I had it good. My brothers didn't want my toys. I didn't want theirs. They didn't want to borrow my favorite skirt (although I did occasionally borrow a cool sweatshirt from my brothers). I was Daddy's Little Girl. Daddy's ONLY Little Girl. It was my title and there was no one there to even think about threatening that or my status in the family. But now as the mother of two daughters, I know my girls will never have that luxury, that solidarity of status. I hope that we'll raise them with so much love and confidence that they will always feel secure and equally loved, but it still worries me.

With all of that said, I absolutely wouldn't trade their sisterhood for the world and I know they wouldn't either. My four-year-old loves nothing more than trotting her sister into her classroom to show her off. And my two-year-old loves copying her sister, who she believes is the best thing since Disney.

So my husband and I got our wish: we have two precious children who are very close in every way. They are sisters. They are best friends. They bring out the best and sometimes the worst in each other. They laugh, they cry, they love (even when they're trying to rip each others' hair out). And in the end they share without even realizing it; they share a connection that they will never share with another soul in their entire lifetime. Cherish it, girls.

Magic

Has it really been almost a month since my last entry??

The festivities of December simply left me with no free time to upkeep the blog. It’s a new year, and I promise to be better.

Our holidays were, in the words of a favorite friend of mine, fantastic. How could they not be, with a two-year-old and four-year-old?? My girls are in the prime of the time of believing and all the magic that goes with that. However, I’m beginning to realize just how fleeting that precious time is. My older daughter is showing more signs of one who will figure it all out very prematurely.

On Christmas Eve, we went to my parents’ house. I brought the girls their pajamas to change into with the hope that they would fall asleep early, giving Mr. and Mrs. Claus more time to set up. On the ride home, I looked in the back seat, and sure enough, they were out like a light. It was only 8pm, so my husband and I were very excited about the prospect of getting to sleep a bit earlier than anticipated. We started talking about all that we had to do that night: assemble the 12 Dancing Princesses’ Castle, bring up all of the presents from the basement and add bows to them, set up the new Dora tent, eat the cookies left out for Santa and leave a thank you note.

When we got home, we carried the girls up to bed. As we laid our four-year-old down on the bed, a huge smile grew across her face. I said to my husband, Aww, look. She must be having a great Christmas dream. She then startled me by busting out in laughter. I asked her if we had just woken her up. She replied, No silly. I was just pretending I was asleep so Santa would come. She claimed she had never fallen asleep.

In horror I then recalled the conversation my husband and I had shared in the car on the way home, thinking both of the girls were asleep: the great detail of what we (not Santa) were going to do that night. I thought, That’s it! The secret is out. Christmas is spoiled. So I asked her what her daddy and I had been talking about in the car. She wouldn’t respond. I’m not sure if a) she really had fallen asleep for a bit and hadn’t heard us; b) she had heard us, but didn’t want to spoil our fun by telling us she knew; or c) she was awake but just didn’t hear us or just didn’t put it together. I tend to think Option C is the most likely possibility.

Regardless, Christmas was a smashing success. My daughters met the morning with glee and enthusiasm; with fun and love. Through the eyes of our little ones, my husband and I have re-discovered the happiness and excitement of this special time of year. Even if this was our last Christmas with the full-fledged “Santa” belief intact (I hope it’s not!), I know the magic that we feel together will never go away.

P.S. Ok, I admit it. This was a particularly sappy blog entry. It comes with the season. Give me some time and I’m sure I’ll be back to my old sarcastic self again.