Pancake breakfast!

Leanne and I keep having to remind ourselves that, at this point, Olive can eat a lot of what we eat at meals. So this morning we decided to sit down and have a nice little pancake breakfast as a family. And we ate in the kitchen! No TV!

Olive, if you like those blueberry pancakes now, wait till you can have them with butter and maple syrup!

You Have to Crawl Before You Can Walk

Apparently, that is not true. Olive has always been a girl who knows what she wants. She has always tended to whine when she wasn't getting what she wanted, and then when she did, she rewarded you with a huge, cute smile -- this is nice now, but is really bad news when she turns 13.

Right now, what she really wants to do is move. She wants to get to that thing over there, and eat that thing over there, and then she wants to get back.

A few weeks ago, she was content sitting in one place and reaching for things. Now, not so much. She has figured out that she can move. She just doesn't want to do it on her hands and knees. Usually, she when she ends up on her stomach, she screams bloody murder until Leanne or I give in and pick her up.

I know, I know. We aren't letting her figure it out. Trust me, we let her cry on her tummy quite a bit. She shows no motivation to get up and crawl. What she does work at, however, is walking.

Olive is now successfully cruising from chair to chair around the kitchen table, from couch to coffee table in the living room, and from dresser to crib to toy box in her bedroom.

Great.

Oh yeah, and she also loves having her hands held and just walking around the house. You can get huge smiles from that. My back is still sore from bending over and walking behind Olive for half the day on Monday. Hopefully all this works out into a good 100M time.

2030 Olympics here we come!

The Babysitter's Here...

This past weekend, Leanne and I left Olive with a babysitter for the first time. Well, we left her with a babysitter who is not family or friend and who was not providing the service pro-bono, either through some sort of duty through blood or through a friendly favor.

We actually hired a babysitter.

I’m not going to lie, I was a apprehensive going in, and as the moment approached when we handed responsibility of our daughter over to a perfect stranger – even for just a few hours – that apprehension grew.

We had great confidence in our babysitter. She was recommended by a friend and seemed very nice over the phone. Also, we really needed a night out and we really needed to find a babysitter who we wouldn’t feel beholden to, you know, since we would actually pay this one. We needed a babysitter who could watch Olive on a Saturday night and we wouldn’t feel like we were ruining a friend’s weekend or spoiling someone’s plans. The time had come when a trusted babysitter who we could have on call, and one that would grow to know Olive, is an arrow that we needed in our parenting quiver.

I spent the afternoon methodically laying out the implements of a successful dinnertime feeding. Spoon. Cheerios. Washcloth. Bib. Jar of Olive’s favorite vegetable/fruit combination (she is a sucker for apple/sweet potato).

I place a few disposable diapers on her changing table (yes, we still use cloth diapers, but we decided to go with ease here). I made sure Olive’s toys were out and available. Leanne wrote up an impressively comprehensive list of instructions for the evening (example: “6:15 – Put Olive in high chair…”) and I tried not to sweat through my shirt with nervousness.

The babysitter arrived. I felt awkward. I didn’t know this person from anyone on the street and I was inviting her into my home to take care of my first born so I could go out and have cocktails with friends.

But oh, those cocktails would taste good. I think I can get over this. Just think about the whiskey…

It helped that, by all accounts, our babysitter seemed like a fine, upstanding, wildly overachieving young woman. She attends a mildly prestigious local university, has a demanding major with a double minor, and plays three varsity sports. When I was in college I had enough trouble trying to juggle classes, binge drinking, and what is wildly known as the least demanding major going: English.

It also helped that when Olive first saw the babysitter, she flashed her a huge approving smile. Still we spent the next 40 minutes going over everything we could think someone might need to know if they were going to watch our child for five hours or five days. Phone numbers. Location of food stuffs, trash cans and light switches. Operation of television. Preferred toys and play spots. Take out menus. How to comfort child if crying occurs before feeding, after feeding, before bed. What happens if she doesn’t fall asleep.

About 30 minutes into this, even Olive was looking at us as if to say: “Am I really that hard to work with?”

Eventually, the babysitter, acknowledging for the 17th time that she had everything under control, sat down with Olive and started playing with her. Olive glanced up, and then back down at a bucket of plastic blocks. The babysitter looked up and said “Goodbye, guys. Have a great time.”

But I didn’t tell you how to flush the toilet yet. What about basic first aid?

But we really did need to go. We were meeting 14 people for a birthday dinner and we were picking up the birthday girl. It really would have been bad if she was late because I needed to show our babysitter the various features of Olive’s exer-saucer.

We each leaned down to give Olive a kiss, took a deep breath, and walked out the door.

Surprisingly, we were comfortable. Olive is a good kid and we had confidence our babysitter was too. We leave Olive at daycare regularly and have flown across the country on vacation. But this was different. Olive knows her daycare provider and so do we. When we went on vacation we left her with her grandparents – as close to a subsitute parent as possible. There was something transactional about this. Watch my baby and I’ll give you money and we never have to see each other again.

Soon enough though, we settled down. We had a baby-less night out (at least until 10:00 PM) in front of us and we needed to take advantage of it. They don’t come around too often. By the time we arrived at the restaurant we were a little more at ease. We placed our cell phones on the table at the ready, but they never buzzed or rang. By 8:00 PM we were laughing and eating and talking about – gasp – adult things. By 9:00 PM Leanne was trying make time slow down with her mind so that she we would have time to get an after dinner drink at a bar. (Alas, the check came slowly and we settled for stopping at Dunkin Donuts on the way home and spiking it with Baileys.)

We got home and within two minutes our friendly babysitter – who explained how everything had gone smoothly -- had collected her wages and left. Leanne and I snuck upstairs to peak at our sleeping baby. Everything was as if we had spent the night there at home. Babies are resilient little buggers and need just a few staples – food and love. For a few hours, and a few bucks, someone new had provided that for Olive.

Celebrate Consumerism!

So, needless to say, Leanne and I have purchased way too much stuff since becoming parents. I've said it once and I'll say it again, there is a strong possibility that Leanne decided to have a baby because it meant she could shop in a new section of REI.

A lot of stuff is useless. We have some clothes with the tag still, books that remain unread, and products that haven't come out of the packaging. I know, I know, we are horrible, mindless consumers...but it is so much fun to buy stuff!

So why not periodically share some of the good stuff (and maybe some of the not so good stuff) that we have found. The best of the best, the most useful, most cute, most time-saving, most helpful, most creative, most awesome-est.

To show that we are good, cultured people and that our consumerism does have some redeeming value, I'll start with books! Enjoy, and let me know if you like the selections, have read the books, or have other suggestions.

All in a Day
Author: Cynthia Rylant
Illustrator: Nikki McLure



Really, more of an illustrated poem than a children's book. Nikki Mclure's illustration is really the reason to buy this. Here is the artist's note from the book that describes the process:

The illustrations are cut paper. First, I draw the image on black paper, and then I cut it out with an X-Acto knife. I keep everything connected by a path of black paper...There is no erasing, so if I make a mistake, I just have to keep cutting and find a solution. The cut paper is then scanned, and color is added by computer.

You can see from the cover that the art is stunning, to the point that you wish you could rip out the pages and frame them. The story is a simple touching one about the possibilities that each day holds and implores us to make the most of each moment. My favorite line: "Every bird and every tree/ and every living thing / loves the promise in a day, / loves what it can bring. / There is faith in morningtime, / there is belief in noon. / Evening will come whispering / and shine a bright round moon."
Sure, the book is a little mature for Olive (probably about five or six years to mature) but sometimes it is nice to read something that isn't all about what sounds a duck makes or how fire trucks are red and oranges are orange.

Duck! Rabbit!
By Amy Krouse Rosenthal & Tom Lichtenheld



Rosenthal, author of Little Hoot, Little Pea, and Spoon, among others, is quickly becoming one of my favorite children's book author. Duck! Rabbit! isn't really a story as much as an argument between two competing point of views over an optical illusion. So, which one is it, a duck or a rabbit. Read it to a few different kids and let them decide. Again, Olive is more interested in trying to rip and eat the pages than trying to figure out what is going on, but another fun book for the adults to read.

Finger Food

So over the past month or so we have been making a concerted effort to let Olive feed herself a little bit.

The first experiments didn't go so well. She dry-heaved after her first piece of banana. A cheerio caused her to choke for a second and caused me to jump over our kitchen table, hurdle a chair, and shove my finger down her throat to dislodge the offending whole-grain "O". It also took me a while to get my heart placed back in my chest. Her introduction to baked sweet potato ended with me cleaning up vomit.

But she is starting to get used to it. She eats cheerios with a natural grace now. She eats pieces of cheddar cheese like she is 50% mouse. Leanne took her out for dinner last night and Olive shared some of her Taco Salad. Avocado, beans, chicken. Yum.

But it has been a struggle to get her to eat certain items. Banana has been particularly tough because, well, have you ever tried to pick up a small piece of banana. That stuff is slippery! I heard/read about a little trick somewhere -- coat the pieces of banana in crushed up cheerios. Genius! And it works! Olive was able to pick up her little cheerio dusted banana pieces. That was the good news. The bad news was that she could care less about eating the banana. She did like playing with them and sucking the cheerio dust off and basically rubbing it over her face. Here is the aftermath of her cheerio encrusted banana experience.



In other news, we have also tried to start giving Olive a sippie cup. Something tells me she hasn't quite figured it out.