My First CSA Share

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csa, swiss chard dip. swiss chard recipe

A CSA is a beautiful thing. Community supported agriculture. And hell yes I support my local agriculture. We bought our share with our tax return way back in February. I have been anticipating this day the whole time. I get to meet my grower and have picked-this-morning produce in season, organically grown, and because of my investment. It is a beautiful thing. I will also be getting beef, honey, and cheese, but this share was just vegetables.

I got a whole-latta swiss chard, peas, beets, and radishes. I will be getting more and more variety as the season progresses. I was supposed to get cherries this time too, but they weren’t able to get them, since I had my heart set, we just drove to an orchard up in Willard and got a bucket of them anyway. Haha.

I love planning a meal backwards. For the rest of summer, with my CSA and the farmer’s market opening soon, I will have my ingredients, and need to find a recipe to follow.

We hosted a bbq that night, and I stared at my produce for a long time before it came to me what to do. At first it began as a Swiss chard au gratin, but then, by some twist of fate, I made a dip, like a spinach dip, but with the swiss chard. Oh my goodness. Best idea ever.

I boiled the chard for ten minutes, then drained. I made a bechamel sauce with toasted garlic, then combined the two in a shallow dish. I covered the whole thing in Gruyère cheese a little bit of parmesan then chives for garnish. I baked at 400 degrees for 30 minutes. It was the most delicious thing I have made for forever.

Here is a terrible photo of it:

I will attempt to post more recipes from my CSA. It makes me so happy.

Nina’s Name

Ok ok. I know. I changed the name.

If anyone follows me on Pinterest they knew I had been planning to name my little baby Isla. We told our family. We told our friends when they asked. This was a huge difference than with Mae, as we kept it a secret until she was born. And it was a huge mistake. I got to say, I really hated every [real life] reaction I had to the name. I told Adam’s family, and was met with silence, his mom ran out of the room, then when the silence was too much somebody said, “It kind of sounds like . . .” and some horrible name was mentioned. When I told my brother, he said that she would have to live with everyone pronouncing her name wrong, and I would have to be ok with that. My mother would text me her name as Isle. Not bothering to fix the auto-correct. Despite the fact I told my dad in person, he would ask me way too many times if it was pronounced IS-luh. Despite having explained this several times, I got a call from my stepmom asking me if I really was going to name my kid IS-luh because that was weird. I started to have people give me name ideas, after I was pretty clear that we had decided on Isla. Pretty much, everyone sucked. But who cares, right? It was the name Adam and I chose.

Then one day, I didn’t want it anymore. It sounded too trendy. It didn’t feel right. So I mustered up a little courage and said it out loud. When I was 37 weeks pregnant. Without hesitation, Adam told me he felt the same way. That was great, but then what would her name be? We had already spent a great deal of time and energy picking out the first name, and now it was getting close to the end and we had nothing. 

I saw the name Nina on the cover a book I was reading (she is the author) and I threw that name in the pool. Apparently, because I was all pregnant and crazy, I didn’t realize that this is a name Adam had been pushing even with Mae. He told me that that is his number one choice and after taking some time, I came around to the idea that I would have a daughter named Nina, and grew to love it. Because I picked Mae’s name and her middle name is a family name on my side, I wanted the middle name to be pulled from his side of the family. We invited his grandmother over for dinner and picked her brain for names. My favorite was his other grandmother’s middle name Leone, and he liked Estelle from what Grandma Smith was saying from her side. In the end, just a week and few days from my due date, we decided on his choice. Little did I know that my brother’s daughter, born in September, her middle name is also Estelle. I don’t know why it slipped my mind, but they are ok with it, and I think it is kind of nice to share a middle name with a cousin.

This time around we didn’t tell anyone. I was never encouraged by anyone’s reaction. No one ever reacted with any real positively, so it didn’t really interest me anymore. Now that it is out, I am beginning to think that people are having more trouble with this name than they ever would have with Isla. I have had far too many people pronounce it NY-nuh, far too many people (lots of family, lots of people from church, and even her doctor). Adam’s grandmother said she had never even heard the name and spelled it “Nena” on her card. It really is amazing to me, considering Nina is an actual, established, human name. Oh well, I guess you can never escape it.

I really love her name. I think it fits her beautifully. I think it’ll be a name she can carry with her her whole life. It goes very well with Mae. Also, it is one of the few words Mae can even say. She sings it actually, but it still counts.

Here she is, my little Nina Estelle Smith. Perfect in every way.

The Birth Story

I knew it. I knew it like it was a universal truth, that I would have this baby before my estimated due date of May 11th. I knew it. But I doubted it. It was the 8th of May that I had a very low, sour day. Dark clouds sank from the atmosphere to hover directly above my head. I wanted to go into labor on the 8th, so I made an OB appointment for that morning, just a check up, but I thought… I don’t know what I thought. He told me that it looked like I wouldn’t go into labor for at least another week. Now, if I had my head on straight I would have called BS on that statement, because there is no way to know something like that. However, his words shot right into my heart, and I sank like a stone. I cried myself through the day. And no one cared.

At the end of the day I made up my mind that I would stop thinking so much about it. That I would be happy and just live my life without constant anticipation for labor. So on the 9th I cleaned the house, did all the laundry, rubbed birch essentially oil on the belly and feet. I had Adam bring home super spicy Indian food. After Mae went to bed, we watched home videos of her getting dressed for the first time, playing on the grass, rolling over, sitting up, walking, eating birthday cake, and a short clip of her getting her hair cut. We were in the best mood. Even my floors were all swept and mopped. I had no worries in the world.

As I lay in bed, I felt the familiar pain of a contraction. It was 11:45pm. I willed another one to come. When it came I knew that everything was going to be great, because I would have the two things I have wanted for so long: to no longer be pregnant and have my daughter. I woke up Adam, who wasn’t very happy to be waking up. I didn’t understand it. We were having a baby! I couldn’t stop smiling. I made him get up and run me a bath with epsom salt and more birch EO. While in the bath, I demanded that my body contract more, and it did. After that they came on their own. We pulled out the stop watch and determined they were about three minutes apart. I focused, relaxed, and enjoyed myself. Adam packed my bag with a list I had already made up for him, while I curled my hair and put makeup on. (I did this for several reasons, the number one reason was because if I felt beautiful I knew I would feel good in general, and the other major reasons were so when I looked back on pictures I didn’t just see bedhead and have that be my only take-away). I labored until 2:30am until my dad and stepmom arrived to watch Mae. After that I lost my focus and the labor pains were more than I wanted to handle. My lovely, clean, dark home was a perfect place to labor. A car ride, hospital staff, hospital questions, and being plugged into machines is not a pleasant nor adequate place to focus and labor, in my experience. Thankfully, my lovely epidural came just after 3am.

Several things happened when I got my epidural. Firstly, my contractions were super painful because by this point I had no focus whatsoever and only longed for the painkillers. Secondly, as soon as the epidural was placed, I felt a large gush under me and had to tell the nurse that I peed the bed. Much to my satisfaction, it was not pee, but my water broke on its own. Thirdly, once I laid back, my blood pressure dropped significantly (I typically have really low blood pressure anyway), turned white as a ghost, and vomited. I thought I was going to die. My nurse quickly did something, to which I cannot remember, but she thoroughly explained it to me once I was recovered  and I still can’t remember, and got me back fairly quickly.

Some time after four I was all ready to go. I was bearing down, all the way dilated,  and all that good stuff. But they hadn’t called my OB, and he wasn’t by the hospital, so it took a bit and the nurses made me keep my legs shut and wait. I pushed for five minutes and there she was, my daughter, in the world.

Adam cried. I nursed. In no time at all, we were all alone in the room with the sun still below the horizon. The three of us in that room together is one of my favorite memories.

Mae came by later in the morning with my parents to meet Nina. They had taken her to the gift shop to have her pick out a gift for the baby. It was a stuffed monster. Don’t worry, she picked her self out one too. She kissed Nina several times, then explored the room.

I only stayed the night then went home with my husband and two daughters in time for Mae’s mid-day nap on Saturday the 11th. And I knew it, like it was truth, that I would deliver before my due date. I didn’t know it would only be the day before, but that is ok.

That evening, as Adam cleaned up from BBQ take-out, I nursed Nina on the couch, Mae colored in her new coloring book in between my feet on the floor, and the season finale of the Office played on the tv. That is when I cried. I finally had my family. It was perfect.

 

The Newest Pretty Smitty

Nina Estelle Smith
May 10th, 2013
7 lbs, 9 oz, 19.5 in

We Are Still Married!

Five years ago today was really, just the best day. It was beautiful. I am so happy that six months after we met, we married. I love him everyday.

For your enjoyment, here is an awkward photo of us eating pizza and drinking Guarana at our wedding luncheon.

The End of the Line

I am 30-million weeks pregnant, that is in mamma years, 38 if we are doing human years. Last Thursday, guess what gift was left at my front porch?? The flu. Yep. The stomach flu to be exact. And guess what? Every symptom in the world came with it: high fever (102), shaking, loss of appetite, inflamed organs, entire midsection feels like tribbles are living in it, vomiting, diarrhea, extreme tiredness, and the list goes on. I think I may be over it, and it is Tuesday. I thought I was over it on Saturday, so we went to the zoo, and that was so nice, but by the late evening, I was back at it.

I almost had a breakdown imagining that I would go into labor whilst having the flu. I heard that if you have a fever or other symptoms they take your baby away. I had these vivid images of me punching out nurses and getting handcuffed to my bed because I would refuse them to take my baby away from me. It scared me so bad. I even considered quickly switching to a home birth – I was that delirious. But seriously, my baby needs me, fever be damned, the best place for the baby is in my arms and at my breast. But I think I am in the clear now, maybe.

I had a really hard day on Sunday. I was telling Adam how useless I feel. At one point in the morning I laid down on the bed while Mae and him were playing, and like two hours later, woke up. I just checked out. The worse part is, is I want to do that every morning, even if Adam isn’t here. It is everything in me to be present. I need to eat more, but my stomach is only so big right now, as I have a full-grown child in their taking up most of the real estate. And everything sounds gross. And I can’t seem to shop enough at the grocery store. I just get tired and uninspired. My house is messy. I am backed up on laundry. Mae isn’t being taught anything or shown anything new by me. We watch tv all morning. I nap with her in the afternoons, which sometimes can be three hours, and I don’t want to wake up when she does. I am in pain all the time.

Then Adam pointed out to me that in the smallest amount of time I would have my baby here. I smiled. A baby. I don’t want to be pregnant anymore. I just want my baby. I want to go into labor and bring this little girl home. This will feel like the longest two weeks of my life, I am sure, but then it will go so fast. I don’t care to “try to enjoy it” or whatever. I am sick of that. I am going to embrace the intense negativity, the complaining, and all that and just count down of this until it is over. I am pretty sure with the loss of appetite, the vomiting and diarrhea, my body can’t possibly want to keep this baby in this environment for very much longer. Let us hope. I have a doctor appointment tonight, so we will see where I am at.

It is the end of the line. Last call, baby.