Raw "Chocolate"-Covered Strawberries

So recently I've been wanting to go back to eating more raw foods. There's no question about the health benefits, and to tell you the truth, it just seems to be a craving of mine lately. So, here I am, in the kitchen, trying to work with what little resources I have until payday, and voila! I create these delicious raw "chocolate"-covered strawberries :) They firmed up nicely in the fridge, and are more along the lines of fudge-covered strawberries, but every bit as tasty as you might imagine that to be! Here's the recipe:

Raw "Chocolate"-Covered Strawberries

1/4 cup Raw Carob Powder
1/4 cup Raw Coconut Oil
1/4 cup Raw Honey or Agave
1/8 tsp Vanilla or 1/4 vanilla bean
1-4 Tbsp liquid*
1 pint Strawberries


* For the liquid, you can use any kind of nut milk, oat milk, soy milk, or even raw cow's milk if you'd like. Use just enough to get the mixture to the right consistency.

Warm the coconut oil slightly over warm water to melt it without heating it too much. Whisk in the honey or agave until blended. Slowly whisk in the carob powder until smooth. It may be very thick and slightly crumbly - that's fine, too. Add the vanilla or scraped vanilla beans and whisk in your chosen liquid until the mixture is a little thinner than chocolate frosting. Dip strawberries in carob mixture and refrigerate. This probably makes about 15-20 medium-sized strawberries. I wouldn't know. I made 10 and ate the rest, lol.

I think next time, however, I will use agave nectar instead of honey, or at least use a milder honey. I used half and half this time, and the wildflower honey I used was a bit overpowering. Also, I used soy milk - not raw, but it's what I had on hand. Any kind of "milk" would probably do - almond milk would most likely give the best complimentary flavor. Also, I used raw coconut butter, instead of coconut oil, which gave it a slightly gritty texture that was not the greatest. It would be much smoother with coconut oil, but again, what I had on hand...

Overall, these were outstanding! The coating, as I said, hardened to a more fudge-like consistency, but I kind of like that; it avoids the typical chocolate-covered strawberry flaw of hardened chocolate fracturing at the first bite, usually leaving you with a lap full of chocolate pieces and a naked strawberry. These are VERY rich and will satisfy your chocolate craving instantly - at least, they satisfied mine :)

The Compassion of Children

Today it dawned on me that we don't give our children enough credit where it is rightfully due. It seems second-nature to most of us to try and instruct our children in the ways of politeness and compassion. "Say thank you," "say sorry," "give her a hug", "say excuse me," etc. I hold the not-so-popular opinion that this actually does more harm than good, since forcing a child to do these things makes it compulsory and externally motivated, which, in turn, makes it less likely that they will do such things on their own and be sincere in their intent. My goal is to encourage my children to be internally motivated and genuinely compassionate.

Of course, as we all know, at two years old, most children are distinctly self-centered and not overly concerned with the emotions of others, having not yet completely even realized that others have genuine feelings or that their own actions may affect the feelings of others. What this means is that I am destined to have painfully rude, selfish, and, at times, downright mean children until they reach the age when they are developmentally capable of true empathy. I accept this. Others probably do not (especially those with children who have to play with and be bullied by my two-year-old), but in allowing their children to play with mine, they are helping him to develop that altruism that should be rearing its pretty little head any day now...

But today, I was reminded that children love others despite what we may inadvertently teach them. Leonidas was playing with his two cousins, ages 3 and 4, and a neighbor kid, age 5. They were playing outside on this lovely, bright, sunny day, and spraying each other with water from the hose. Persephine, his four-year-old cousin, became obviously (and as dramatically as her four-year-old self could muster) distraught, grabbed her towel, wrapped it around her, and sat down on the curb, back to the other children, head hanging down, staring into the gutter in a very lonely sort of way. I watched from across the street, silent and observing. After a minute, Leonidas saw her sitting there. He looked at her for a few minutes, unsure of the situation, trying to figure it out. Then he walked over cautiously, sat down on the curb next to her, put his hand on her back, tilted his head, and, in a very concerned yet quiet tone of voice, said, "Uh wrong, Seh-she?" (Translation: "What's wrong, Persephine?") She looked at him, sighed heavily, and said, "I'm cold, and they won't stop squirting me," then put her head back down into her hands. Leonidas contemplated this for a moment, then looked down into the gutter, sighed, and said, "Yeah." The two of them sat there for a few minutes, just looking into the gutter and feeling bad, one for the other. Leonidas then stood up, said, "Wa pway, Seh-she?" ("Wanna play, Persephine?") She shook her head, "no," and he went on his way, playing with the others. Not a tremendous exchange, but a meaningful one. I have never told him how to react to others when they are sad, or told him to "ask what's wrong," or "say you're sorry." But he knew. At 23 months old, he knew she was hurting, and he knew what to do - probably even better than many adults would have. He didn't try to fix it (he hasn't been taught to do that). He just listened and empathized. I could learn a lot from him. I wish more people would learn to do that. Maybe what we try to teach actually gets in the way of that natural reaction. Maybe kids learn more from observing others than from being "taught." Maybe they don't have to be taught at all - they just have to learn. I know one thing: I am proud of my son - when he is mean and when he is kind - not because of what I have taught him, but because of what he has learned, and because in spite of all my efforts to "parent", he still manages to thrive!

Living Dangerously!

Let's play a game. It's called, "How many dangers can you find in this picture?"

Let's see...pant legs that are too long (tripping hazard), long hair obstructing vision, child under the age of two standing above ground level (on one foot, no less), child playing on metal bench not intended for toddler recreation (with wooden, splinter-ridden boards - horror!), muddy play surface (reduced-traction hazard)...

And let's not forget the worst one...trees...

"Wait, wait. Dangers," you may ask, "what dangers? All I see is a child having fun!"

Or at least, this is what you might say if you, like myself, are in the process of raising Free-Range Kids.

On the other hand, you may be one of the "others." You know, the parents who think their kids are living in the next "final Destination" sequel, with random, freak accidents lurking around every corner, lying in wait for your unsuspecting children...

But we all know that isn't reality, right? Right?

...

"But what if..." I know, I know. What if tragedy strikes. Then it would be just that: A tragedy. Indeed, it's something I don't really even want to think of when it comes to my children. In fact, I'll let you in on a little secret...

I used to be one of the "others."

Ok, ok, so it's no secret. Everyone knows I've had my helicopter moments. But I'm changing. Really. In fact, I'm committed to it, wholeheartedly, for the sake of my sanity, for the sake of my marriage, and most of all, for the sake of my children. I don't want them to be afraid of everything outside their front door. I want them to be happy and live fully. I want them to be KIDS while they still can, so they can grow into fine adults. I want to raise children who are rowdy, crazy, a bit spoiled, a bit more spirited, and very well-loved.

So, in the interest of spreading this new-found free-range wisdom, I'd like to demonstrate what "Free-Range Kids" might look like - so you can spot them in a crowd (and inform the proper authorities).















Now here's a child, about 22 month old, about to embark on a bike ride. Note the absence of parental assistance. This is a hallmark feature of the Free-Range Child.

Note that the child has successfully gotten onto the bike and is pedaling away. No intervention needed.
















Oh look, a child going for a walk...in heels...in his pajamas...

We'll just let this one speak for itself...


















This is a toddler in a bath tub. Free-Range Children often bathe in actual water, unassisted, and, in this case, are allowed to use the faucet. Crazy, I know.

















Now here is a picture of my son, almost two, helping me in the kitchen. He is cutting up butter into pieces for use in making a pie crust. Yes, that is an actual knife he is using, and it is sharp. He knows it is sharp, and knows how to use it carefully. He is also standing on a two-step step stool, and has excellent balance. You may be happy to know that he IS wearing a protective apron over his clothes. :)





NAKED BABY ALERT!














Haha, now this, I don't actually recommend, but with Free-Range Kids, this will often happen. Do not be alarmed. Just applaud him for his creativity and encourage some other, equally-fun, yet less dangerous activity such as jumping off the couch or playing with sticks.





















Ahh, now here we see Leonidas doing something else often seen in Free-Range Children: Eating. Note that he is holding his own food and getting incredibly messy...





















Actually, this was a watermelon eating contest. He did not win, but had fun in the attempt!



















Now THAT is satisfaction!


From these pictures, you can clearly see that Free-Range Kids can be found in several different arenas, enjoying several different activities, and worrying several different parents simultaneously. Feel free to point out the "dangers" in these pictures and warn everyone around you of what "could" happen. I probably won't be listening, since I will be beaming from ear to ear, listening to the laughter of babies and watching my children grow up happy, healthy, and FREE!

Lea's Fabulous Chicken Salad

2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cooked, diced
1 stalk of celery, cut in half lengthwise then sliced
4 green onions, sliced
1 cup green grapes, quartered
1 granny smith apple, chopped
1/2 cup chopped pecans
1 cup homemade mayonnaise*
1 small lemon
1 tsp. apple cider vinegar
1/2 tsp. onion powder
2-4 Tbsp. agave nectar
Salt and pepper to taste
3 slices cooked bacon, crumbled

In a large bowl, mix chicken, green onion, celery, apple, grapes, and pecans. In a small bowl, mix mayonnaise, juice of lemon, apple cider vinegar, onion powder, agave nectar, salt, and pepper. Pour over chicken mixture, combine well, and chill. Serve with crumbled bacon on top.

* You can also use store-bought mayonnaise, but I like to make mine so I can tailor it to this recipe. For the mayonnaise, I put one egg, 1 Tbsp of apple cider vinegar, and a hefty pinch of salt in the blender. Blend, and, with the blender running, very slowly pour in one cup of vegetable oil, drop by drop at first, then more quickly at the end, until it is all emulsified and thickened (and looks like mayonnaise). If you notice oil rising to the top, stop adding the oil for a moment and let it work into the mixture completely before continuing to add more.

Why do I forget to blog?

Yes, once again, it seems I've forgotten that this blog exists. It's been four months now, during which time Ruby has recovered from being dropped, come through a case of presumed pertussis, survived having her shoulder popped out of the socket by her multi-tasking mother (oops), and has learned to crawl and stand up with the help of furniture. Leonidas has turned into quite the big brother himself, and despite their rocky beginning, my children have come to love one another. We have also survived our move to Hemet (along with Granny), and are doing quite well. We have also acquired two pet rats named "Kitty" and "Mayu-Mayu" (pronounced "My-you My-you"), and will soon be adding a pair of chickens for our egg-laying delight (more on that later). Other developments are in the works...more to come...but for now, that's us, in a nutshell. :)

Humpty-Dumpty

Latest news: The Infamous Baby-Dropping Incident of 2010.

Yep, that's right, I dropped the baby.

The story goes like this: On Friday morning around 8:00am I was giving Ruby a bath in the bathroom sink. I took her out and dried her off in a towel. Leonidas had just come out of the shower and was sitting on the potty. Well, he was wiggling around and trying to get off the potty and started to fall, so, while holding little Ruby in her towel, I reached over to make sure he didn't fall and POP, Ruby just popped herself right out of my arms and landed straight on the top of her head on the linoleum floor from a height of about four feet! My heart completely sank, and in that moment, I thought I had lost my precious baby girl. It sounded like a pumpkin being thrown to the floor. I had tried to grab her, but it was too late - she had hit. I quickly scooped her up while screaming something like, "OH MY GOD!" and calling for Brandon to help me. She began screaming and I laid her down on the carpet. I noticed there was baby poop splattered all over the bathroom, and I feared the worst. I'm not actually sure what happened, but I know my mom and Brandon were there helping me check her out. She was screaming and crying harder than I had ever seen her, and her neck and shoulders were all stiffened up. I was crying as hard as she was. We called 911 and an ambulance took her to the hospital across the street. She had a CT scan and they discovered a small skull fracture, so they transferred her over to the county hospital a few blocks away, where they had a pediatric neurologist available. We waited in that E.R. all day long until he finally meandered over to see us. There was no brain bleeding or swelling, so we were given the option of admitting her and keeping her there overnight for observation or taking her home to keep an eye on her. We decided to take her home; I wanted her to remain on me as much as possible, not stuck in a cold crib hooked up to monitors in an unfamiliar place where only one parent could be with her overnight and her brother couldn't even visit her at all. The doctor agreed with me. :) She is doing just fine now. The fracture should heal on its own - we just have to watch for certain things and take her back in if there are any complications. She just has a small bump and barely-noticeable bruise on her head and the beginnings of a black eye. She doesn't even seem to notice that anything happened. What a trooper!

Needless to say, I'm kind of scared to carry her around now. But all-in-all, we've come out alright. We are calling her "Humpty-Dumpty" now, and I think the name might just stick. One day, she'll be able to have the last laugh when someone jokingly asks if her mom dropped her on her head as a baby. ;P

Cry Baby...

I have been guilty of being an ungrateful mother. I find myself getting so upset when my babies cry. I get angry. I get frustrated. I get sad. I yell and I cry with them. Sometimes I just sit silently and ignore it for a second because I cannot take it any more - or so I think. Of course, I CAN take more, but I choose not to, because I'm selfish. I want my sleep. I want my Facebook. I want to fold laundry and cook dinner.

But then I am reminded of what I would miss. There was a woman on one of the message boards I frequent. She had a baby in April 2009, just like Leonidas. She told her story of her c-section birth. This child that was born was her second. She had a baby that was stillborn the year before. I remember in her story how she related that as they took her baby out of her stomach, she kept repeating to herself, "Cry. Please cry," because with her first baby, she never got to hear that beautiful cry. Just silence. I think of what must have been this deafening silence after buying baby clothes, decorating the nursery, and going through baby name after baby name trying to find the perfect one. Oh, how indescribably amazing that first little cry must have been! It made ME cry just to hear that her second child was born alive and healthy - and screaming his little head off!

When my babies start to cry - when they won't STOP crying for hours - let me not forget how beautiful a cry can be. Let me remember that there are people out there who would give all that they have just to hear their baby cry.