Well, Tonight was a First

For Christmas my sister gave MacTroll a book called Good Meat: The Complete Guide to Sourcing and Cooking Sustainable Meat. She also gave us 3 lbs. of frozen rabbit, which is really just one rabbit.

It's been sitting in my freezer while I worked on what to make with it. So tonight, I made Rabbit a la Moutard. I took my bunny out of the freezer and defrosted it, and then I started to cut it into the required number of pieces.

Here's the thing about rabbit (and yes, you can thank me for not taking photos), its muscles are mainly leg and back. There's no meaty breast like a chicken. Now, I've cut apart bone-in birds before. Mostly turkeys and chickens. I've seen the giant pieces of cow and pigs. But I've never really been to a pig roast before. All of my meat is delivered to me by the butchers, store keepers or giant conglomerate producers in a post butchered state. I even request my trout to come headless and tail-less as much as possible.

But I had a problem cutting apart the bunny. When I told MacTroll why, he nodded and then he suddenly left the room for a phone call for work. Leaving me with my problem.

This was my problem -- the little bunny body looked an awful lot like a cat body. We used to call Looseyfur the cat, Bunny soft. We say the same thing to our cat Clawdio. Pulling the legs that were tucked into the chest cavity out almost made me vomit. Seeing the little heart and the liver didn't do me any favors either.

I shut my eyes and told myself to stop making the bunny into my pets. Then I cut it apart and spent two hours on that recipe.

MacTroll ate it and said he had a hard time telling it wasn't chicken. I couldn't eat it for many reasons, so I had my prepared meal from the cupboard. But if I couldn't eat it, I didn't feel right giving it to X-man. So, he got a turkey hot dog, which I have no problem with because it doesn't look like a fuzzy bunny cat thing, Dr. Praeger's sweet potato shapes and some applesauce. He gave the thumbs down to Dr. Praeger's.

After dinner, I thought about my reaction to meat looking like the actual animal it came from and like an animal it merely resembled. I have cooked lots of meat -- a lot, but I've never gotten the urge to vomit before when cooking. So I have to ask myself, why it registers with the bunny, but I could give a shit about birds, cows and pigs? If I had a connection to any of those animals, would I immediately jump into a vegetarian lifestyle?

Is this when a person starts to realize she might perpetually have been living in a state of denial? Or does she just write off that particular kind of meat?

That said, there was a much cuter bunny-related news. X-man's class had their egg hunt today. :-)

I was never an Absolutist

I've been reading books and chatting with people about vegetarian and vegan lifestyles lately. I will admit that most of my inquiry is health-based. I've read enough general nutrition books, studies and articles and met with my own nutritionist enough to know that the more plant-based a diet is the better it is for a person's overall well being.

In comparison to my husband, my life is rather leafy green. In comparison to a vegan, not so much. Meat doesn't come into my house too often, mostly because it's expensive and full of calories for smallish portions. I'd rather spend money on fruits and vegetables because I get to eat more, and let's face it, I'm a bulk eater by nature.

MacTroll on the other hand drools carnivore. And, truthfully, I have absolutely no problem with that. He makes his choices, and the more time he spends in urban environments, the more snotty he is about the high level of quality meats he wants to put in his mouth. He told me years ago that he never gets full when eating meat, but he loves it so. Hmmm, maybe medium rare filet mignon is his trigger the way I drool over baked goods?

Anyway, here's the deal. I haven't been sleeping through the local food movement. It just hasn't really come down in a price range I'm comfortable in dealing with lately. When I say I eat local, I mean I eat what's from my garden. Because the Urbana Farmer's Market is really kind of expensive (but it also starts really soon). I usually buy asparagus, corn on the cob, some lamb brats and pumpkins there throughout the season. But the five times I go each year usually sees me buying X-man his $1 popcorn as I wander around and try to find something I'm willing to pay for and then going home empty handed. It's kind of sad. Because there are foods I eat, but I just can't stomach paying 2-3 times more for them than I would at Meijer -- or even Schnuck's.

I signed up for the CSA program one year when X-man was an infant. I felt very wasteful because it was before my cooking interest started, and they gave me all kinds of things (even recipes for them) that I just didn't have the energy in my postpartum depression to muscle through. I mean, what one person can eat 2 plastic bags of rhubarb? I'd make into pies, and, seriously, never mind that Cooking Light thinks Healthy Pies are possible, they really aren't. I also remember getting 3 pints of gooseberries. Really, what the hell is a gooseberry? Now, I'd probably have no problem concocting meals of inexplicable ingredients that the farmer chose to plant. But really, I'd do much better with a lot more tomatoes and zucchini than six different kinds of salad mixtures. So, I haven't done it again.

This weekend is the turn the dirt weekend in my backyard. It was supposed to be last weekend, but the cold, ass rain made me lazy on Saturday, and then a 12-mile training run and some way more fun social scheduling kind of took precedent on Sunday. But the strange part is that I haven't decided what to plant yet. I know there will be spinach (because we eat it like no one's business, and I was reading something the other day that talked about how buying baby spinach from the store was some how ecologically worse for the earth than beef, but I have to admit, I only got the headline and lede read before I had to move on). I also know there will be plenty of salsa stuff, and the usual mint pot for MacTroll.

But last year, I had the whole thing mapped out by February and in the ground by now. I know I'll have strawberries and raspberries. We'll see how the blueberry bush does. But I keep waiting for my inspiration to come.

I feel the same way about reading these books and making a lifestyle change. Any book that has any kind of shaming involved or that leads with the concept that meat eaters are dumb and cruel and killing the earth, I put back. It might be dumb to eat meat in the copious amounts that most Americans consume it. It might be cruel the way factory farms treat their livestock. And the farm industry, particularly the cattle ranches, are doing a shitload of damage to the environment (more than even the transportation industry that's how potent cornfed cattle farts are), but I need the science I don't need the lecture to make up my mind.

As it is, I also need a lot of flexibility. If I choose a different lifestyle for myself, I'm not forcing the other two humans in my house to have it. But it is true to say that I myself will stop preparing meat-based meals, should I go that way. And if I've learned anything in the last two years it's that the more vegetables I feed MacTroll, the more likely he is to leave the leftovers in the fridge and eat out at Jimmy John's or Potbelly or Subway... If the meat is cooked at home, those fast food trips stop (or at least lessen). Funny how that works. Plus, in certain circumstances (thanks to the Common Ground Coop) I know where the meat comes from and that it's not loaded with antibiotics, nitrates, etc. But they don't carry an extensive list of meats at the Coop in the off Farmer's Season. And it is way, way more expensive to get it from Triple S in the summer than pick up the factory farm stuff at Meijer. (But we do our best with the Smart Chicken.)

My point is that in one of the books (Becoming Vegetarian) I'm reading they talk about the various kinds of vegetarianism. Then they address the stricter vegan, who are often more likely to extend their life choices to not wearing wool or silk or other animal products. I love that this book gives you the facts without the hounding, so far. And that they use the term "Near Vegan." Oooh. Maybe I could be a vegan that still eats honey, wears smartwool socks and has ice cream once a month. I wouldn't eat cheese or meat or eggs but I also probably wouldn't feel compelled to research every ingredient in my facial cream.

I guess when I started I thought I was going to have to choose and be all hard ass about my diet choice. But I don't. Others might consider this flaky, but in this world, I think there are some areas you can cut a person some slack and food is definitely one of them. There are so many choices to be made and so many social, environmental, emotional, economical and nutrition-based reasons to make them.

But the big question is, even though meat isn't a trigger food for me, how much would I miss it? I like its smell. I like its taste. But I don't usually crave it (well, except the 10 months I was pregnant). So, I'll keep reading.

The only other thing that makes me put a book back on the shelf besides shaming, by the way, is any book that promotes veganism as a method of weight loss. Eff that. Been there, done that. And I think mentioning it in a title is just a way to feed off people's insecurities.

Getting Back on the Horse

Today, I mailed in my non-degree seeking application to Parkland Community College. I'm going to go ahead and take 12 hours worth of classes next spring. Hopefully, I'll get into Program Planning for Young Children and Care of Infants/Toddlers. I'm also planning on taking the First Aid/CPR class (which is basically 1 month of Thursday evenings, so I'll find a sitter for those) so I can be certified and Psychology 101 -- because I never took it in school and it's a prerequisite to to take their Child Psychology class... which I think I'd like to do down the line.

Classes, besides CPR, are all in the morning. 9-10:50 MW, 11-12:15 T/Th. I'll have to do a couple hours of labs during the week too, but since there aren't times, I'm guessing this is at my own discretion. The psych class is online. 

The plan being that after I get my credit, I can then apply to be a substitute teacher at pre-schools around town while I continue to take classes that I'm interested in and also continue to allow me to have flexibility due to my out of whack family schedule, while still being friendly with my child care situation when I'm a single parent. 

I'm very excited about the idea, although not so excited about having to relearn APA style (seriously I hated it). 

So there ya go. Teacher jobs are expected to grow in Early Childhood Education over the next 10 years, but mostly, I'm excited because I've wanted to do this for a long time. 

Change

I'm thinking of changing my life a little -- cutting off my hair. What do you think? Feel free to vote in the poll on the right.

How do you know? -- TMI Warning

2008 is the year of babies around here. Several of my friends, who have kids X-man's age (2) or a year older are due with their second children or have recently given birth. I am elated to welcome the new members of their families.

When MacTroll and I decided to have a baby, it wasn't instinctual... We had been together for 12 years and neither of us was felt strongly about whether we wanted a kid or not until 2004, when MacTroll came home with his first real superhero car. The car, similar to the one Wolverine drove in X-men 2, is a sneaky sportscar. It's sneaky in that it hides the fact that it really has 4 doors and is, therefore, a sedan. 

You're probably wondering 1) how a sports car = baby and 2) how was I obviously not included in this purchase decision concerning thousands of family dollars...

Well, the answer to 1) is in my husband's words, that it's a family car because the backseat is equipped with the Latch system and 2) is that before the purchase was made, MacTroll had just risen in the ranks in the Legion of Superheroes commanding a salary that no longer required joint signings at the bank (and giving me adequate proof and fear as to why after divorce women get 74 percent more poor -- thank you Dr. Troy -- it's the one statistic he gave that stuck in my head for 10 years from his 200-level Sociology class on the Family.).

This was MacTroll's car, purchased with MacTroll's money... and after getting rid of the 1994 Corolla with 180,000 miles on it and ice tea stains on the passenger seat from his days playing Jimmy Olsen for the Booth Newspapers in Michigan (where the only real big pluses were free laundry and working with Jef Mallet, who is now known for his cartoon strip Frazz), who was I to argue? 

I mean, when I spend my miniscule earnings on things like Dana-only trips to Montreal to watch Roy Dupuis movies and eat at Schwartz's, do I want him to say anything about how I spend that money, just because he might have chosen another destination, had he been included in the conversation? No. (And he would never argue with me about being a Quebecaphile because he's an awesome guy who understands me needing to get out of dodge for a while in a place I feel happy.) 

We were due for a new car. At least it wasn't some giant SUV... 

Anyway, when he came home that day with his new toy, he opened the backdoor and showed me the symbols indicating the Latch system so proudly. "Look, car seat stuff!"

It felt like he had heaved a big medicine ball at my gut. "I don't have a kid. I have a dog." I offered. 

"Yeah, I know, but I thought this was the better purchase in case we had a kid in the next five years," MacTroll answered back with a lot of enthusiasm. 

In case you don't know me, I'm a sucker for practicality. Give me a choice between bringing me flowers and bringing me a Target gift card, and I will always go for the gift card. MacTroll is not often a practical kind of man. So when he said this to me, I knew this was him planting the seed in my head. The instant curl of my lip probably told him to stop talking, which he did, bless him. Suddenly, I knew I was going to have to make a decision whether I wanted to go down the road of motherhood or not. 

And the next six months were spent with me making that decision. I spent a lot of time talking to my friend Lori, who was baby crazy, just working up the courage to use the word — "baby." 

When I met that achievement, I worked on talking with other people bringing up the idea of babies. Mostly I chatted to strangers. But I broke down and gave it a testing ground at my friend Patrick's 30th birthday party two months later. His mom, Glenda, picked up on the word immediately. "Are you trying to tell us something, Dana, 'cause you're using the word baby a lot." 

I bowed my head turning bright red... "No."

When I finally decided I'd like to be a mom for sure, we headed into our doctor for the pre-baby discussion. I think we freaked out our doctor a little. Because her first words during the discussion were, "I usually don't get both the potential mom and dad for this kind of consultation. Usually it's just the mom, but I think it's fabulous that you're both here." 

And then she nearly fell off her chair when two people, closing in on 30, asked her how to make a baby. 

After over a decade of doing everything possible NOT to get pregnant, the idea of not using birth control was so foreign it was like our brains just couldn't wrap around the idea of procreation. 

Plus, Joel and I had always been through health classes as teenagers where the eerie music would play in the stereotypical health film as the pregnant girl realized her world had ended because she chose to have sex... with the narrator (who should be shot and laid next to the hanged writer) saying something like: "It took only one irresponsible act for Lindsay to lose her childhood." 

You know... it was one of those films that blames the girl, damns sex as evil, curses babies made from teen pregnancies as "bad" and gives no actual discussion to the health topic of sex and its repercussions, no real information (other than trying to scare you into abstinence) on how to prevent pregnancy nor any discussion about how to raise a baby (like mentioning services to look into), how to find information on adoption (Go Juno) or information on abortion. 

Either way, it didn't stop us from having sex... it just made us the two most responsible birth control friendly people in the world. 

And bless Dr. Jennie and her, "Don't be surprised if it doesn't happen on the first try. It could take months. If it takes longer than a year, come back and we'll see if we can help."

After the encouraging pep talk. We decided to start in June. And damn it if using all that birth control for over a decade wasn't a really good idea. MacTroll, superhero that he is, managed to get the job done in the first round of attempts.

Now we have a 2 year old, and I see the photos of my dear friends' new babies, and I remember what it felt like to smell X-man's cool, clean George-Clooney-esque baby hair. I remember giving him baths in the sink. I remember the cute little clothes and watching him devour a bottle, learn to turn over, eat rice cereal... And they're all good, positive memories. But when I see the pictures, I realize I don't want another baby... I would just want to have X-man, as a baby, all over again. 

I'm in awe of the steps my friends have taken to love and provide for the little ones in their lives. MacTroll and I feel like parenting one is really pushing our limits. 

I guess it's just the way it is. Some people have six kids and rock as parents. Some people are just super dandy without having any. And I think it's awesome nowadays that a growing number of people are able to make such choices. Because apparently the ability to make choices, like family planning, doesn't always hold true for all. 

Does it?