Guest Post from Erika: Things that Start with a"B"

So it's been a while since I posted to this Blog. Call it holiday Busyness. Call it a Burst of inspiration to work on other things. Procrastination doesn't start with a "B", so it couldn't be that.

Peter is getting Bigger every day. Either that or his pants are really shrinking in the wash. Also pickier, more demanding. He may grow up to be Master of the Universe, he's getting some really good practice.

I've been on a "Save the Planet" kick lately. Between Bill McKibben's book "Eaarth" (not a typo) and the Wild and Scenic Film Festival, I've been thinking a lot about what it means to live in a post-petroleum world. The excellent film, "Bag It", really gave me pause about how many single-use disposables I throw into the landfill every day. See it -- you'll never look at a plastic bag the same way again. My unofficial New Year's Resolution to help the planet in my own tiny way: bring my own mug when I go to the coffee shop. And plant a vegetable garden. I haven't had a real garden in years. Chickens can't be too far behind, along with BEES. More research is necessary.

And speaking of research, I'm about to start my first Batch of sauerkraut, which does not start with a "B", but should be interesting anyway. I'll keep you posted.

What else starts with "B"? Breakfast! Peter has been eating nothing but yogurt, yogurt, and more yogurt for Breakfast lately. He calls it "wogurt". I've been reading about Bento Box lunches and making food attractive to toddlers, and today I cut a kiwi up and carefully placed it on the Bowl of yogurt in the shape of a smiley face. He picked off each piece and placed them on the side of his trays. "Don't like kiwi on wogurt." Thanks, kid. Last week I got a similar response to cute little gingerbread man-shaped almond butter and jam sandwiches. Maybe I'll go back to feeding him that grey,lumpy Super Porridge stuff. At least he got most of his nutrition for the day in that one Bowl.

It's not just food that he is picky about lately -- I am starting to see a glimmer of "fashionista" in the little guy. He prefer shirts with pictures of dinosaurs, helicopters, and hot dogs with mustard. He soundly rejects wide stripes, flannel, or anything with Buttons (narrow stripes are ok, so far). Will only wear a hat under duress. He prefers one pair of brown velcro-closure sneakers unless mommy lets him wear rain Boots, which are popular in all sorts of weather. And much to mommy's horror, he also prefers his Crocs in all sorts of weather, so maybe fashionista was the wrong word. At least he can put them on and take them off by himself -- they have that going for them.

He is also picky ("picky" might be the theme for this year!) about where and how fast he walks. We decided to go for a family jaunt in the woods yesterday. It started with questions: "Where we going?" Then, perhaps 100 feet into the walk, he decided he was done, turned around, and started walking back to the car. Martin retrieved him, and was rewarded with the latest tantrum pose: curled up on the ground, like an abandoned newborn kitten. I can't remember how Martin got him back on his feet, but moments later he was running full speed with a stick in his hand, terrorizing dogs and mountain bikers alike. That only lasted for a few minutes, and for the rest of the slog, he remained focused on Beating inanimate objects with sticks until one of us managed to cajole him another ten feet down the path. I think it took us an hour to go to the half-mile marker and back. So much for exercise.

There was one moment of cuteness that almost redeemed the rest of the walk -- something he learned from his new friend, Lindy. He spotted a "dancing stump" and immediately took the stage, dancing his little heart out on top of it. No music necessary. He even got dad to bust a few moves, much to the amusement of the other hikers. Bravo!

But I digress. This post was supposed to be about things that start with the letter "B" and "Peter" starts with a "P".

Bread. Did I mention that I can no longer get Acme Bread in Nevada City? I am very sad about this, because I have not found an acceptable alternative. I might even have to go back to Baking it myself, especially since I have just read about the proper way to bake with a clay cloche pot. (If you can get your hands on any book from the out of print "The Good Cook" cookbook series, buy it -- they are worth their weight in gold.) Luckily, dear friends Will and Cindy brought me a loaf of Acme Levain this weekend. It's in the freezer, awaiting a special occasion, along with the remaining Oatmeal Ginger Chocolate Dipped Christmas cookies.

Beep! The sound of the alarm telling me it's time to go pick up my Beloved Baby. Home-made spaghetti sauce for dinner tonight -- how could he turn up his nose at THAT?