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"Ooo. Mama and Aunt Lydia went to IKEA and found dishes just my size."
"Hey! Let's have a tea party!"
(A tea party for a boy? Click here.)
"Cheers!"
"Crumpets and petits-fours? How about sliced grapes and some tiny pancakes leftover from breakfast?"
(There was no tea pot with the set, so Mama found a cream pitcher to do the trick.)
"Thanks, Aunt Lydia, for my spiffy dishes!"
Eli is feeling better. Hooray! We went off to the park this morning for a stroll and fresh air...
Alas! We got chased home by rain.
Hmmm. Nothing to do but make the best of it. How about baking muffins to make the house cozy and warm and scented with warm sugar? Mama pulled out her beloved Cooking Light Cookbook and found a recipe with simple ingredients we had on hand: Strawberry-Orange Muffins.
Granddad, Grandma, and Eli get ready to measure the butter... ("Oh, the excitement of getting to hold the one kitchen utensil usually nobody lets me get my hands on!")
Grating the orange peel to add to the fresh strawberries...
"Are they done yet?"
The results? Oh my. Wonderful! (Alas, I'm eating low-carb so I only got one bite. But it was a delicious bite! Fresh fruit taste. Not too dense yet not too crumbly. Just right.)
Eli is still under the weather, but we had another lovely day spent mostly at home. This morning Eli (and Red Happy Spoon) helped Mama and Aunt Lydia make pancakes.
I used my new Tovolo Pancake Pen today -- one of those impulse buys at Williams-Sonoma. Eli over-stirred the batter, so it was thinner than it should be, and I was definitely a wobbly novice. Still, I had a really good time playing with the pen and was just starting to get the hang of it when the batter ran out.
I tried making pancakes with teddy bear ears at first. I quickly discovered you have to hold the pen somewhat upright or it flows too quickly and the edges look uneven rather than smooth.
With lines, you have to keep the flow steady by squeezing a little. (Thicker batter would have helped a lot.)
I made bitty pancakes for Eli and he was entranced with them. He had fun stacking them by size before eating them like a sandwich. (We don't give him syrup yet, so it wasn't as messy as it sounds. I use the Cooking Light Magazine pancake recipe and add a little vanilla, so they taste darn good on their own.)
You could make your own pancake pen using a bottle with a large squeeze top, but the official Pancake Pen is easy to load and clean because it has a screw-on top and bottom. I read that you can also mix small batches of batter in the pen itself (shaking it to blend the ingredients), which would save on clean up.
So what is the verdict on the Pancake Pen?
I hate kitchen clutter, but I this thing actually earns its space in the cupboard. I think we have a lot of goofy, creative, fun mornings ahead of us.
Poor Eli has his second fever. (His first was when he was sick last January.) It's always so startling to a mama to lift your crying little one out of their crib in the middle of the night and feel heat radiating from them. That instant wish that you could pull out your magic wand and make it all better.
Fortunately, Eli's fever is mild and easily controlled with children's ibuprofen. Unfortunately, a runny nose is also part of the deal. Ugh. Strangely, Eli is able to rest better with his congestion and coughing than his mama. He tosses and turns yet stays asleep and wakes up with a sunny grin. I, on the other hand, jolt into consciousness with his every cough and am a zombie the next day.
Cheerful Aunt Lydia is a huge help. This morning I gratefully tumbled back into bed after fixing Eli's breakfast milk. When I finally came downstairs, Eli and his great aunt were playing trains, reading books, cooking pretend pancakes, etc.
Using a block tower to practice counting...
"Blow" it down when you're done...
Not wanting to get anybody else sick, we stuck close to home most of today. But we did bundle up to take a leisurely walk along the bay in the late afternoon sunshine.
Well, okay, we did do a little jumping around...
Back home again, Aunt Lydia helped me make Swedish meatballs for supper but also to tuck into the freezer for quick lunches for Eli. She showed me her onion-cutting trick. If I need to finely dice an onion, I work at it a while using a cutting board. Instead, she cuts the onion in slices and pulls out a few thin rings to dice at a time. Her way takes about the same amount of time but is more reliable. My pieces end up various sizes and I have to keep going back to chop them a little smaller!
Mmmm. Comfort food for a winter's night.
Thanks to the good company, it was a lovely day after all.
On a chilly February day after a week of gray rain and rain and rain, do you find yourself craving a bit of color?
Since Aunt Lydia is visiting, the family met up at Brushstrokes paint-your-own-ceramics studio for a morning of fun. For Granddad and Grandma, the pièce de résistance was a long, thin platter decorated with the handprints of all four grandchildren -- Samantha, Claire, Tom, and Eli.
Then everybody wandered off to look at the ceramic pieces for purchase...and then at the variety of paints, brushes, stencils, stamps.... (Samantha considers the possibilities.)
Eli, Mama, and Aunt Lydia worked on a handprint tile for the kitchen. We were surprised by how absorbed Eli was in the painting process, smoothing on layer after layer in a rather careful fashion!
The girls painted moon fairy sculptures. Here's Claire adding finishing touches.
Samantha washes the moon in gold while Grandma works on a vase and matching egg-shaped salt/pepper shakers.
Tom made a clock.
Eli had so much fun that we wore him out!
One Mama's Two Cents: I've visited Brushstrokes several times with Eli and we always have a great time. The studio welcomes parents and even has a diaper changing station. (Call in advance to reserve the upstairs studio for a mama group or party.) I've made some fun gifts that have Eli's painted handprints and footprints on them -- mugs, a pencil cup, a jewelry-holder, and plates.
My favorite piece, however, is a hanging panel with Eli's imprints. Sometimes I run my fingers over the tiny dents, full of wonder that Eli's fingers and toes were ever that tiny. You have to make an appointment to do clay impressions so Brushstrokes can have the materials and a staff member ready for you, but it is completely worth the time and effort. Gift certificates to this place have become one of my favorite new parent gifts. (And birthday gift certificates to Eli's grandparents were at the heart of today's fun.) If you don't live in the East Bay area, check to see if there is a ceramics studio near you that offers similar services.
If you do visit with a wee one, bring a booster seat or high chair plus some toys and snacks. That keeps them safely in one place so you can work because the studio does have a lot of breakables. Bringing an extra adult to serve as "tot wrangler" is also very helpful. Aunt Lydia played with Eli outside in the small courtyard today so I could finish adding words to his handprint tile. Thanks, Aunt Liddy!
At Brushstrokes when Eli was three months old....
Adding details with stamps....
For safety reasons, I don't put last names on my blog and thus had to crop this photo of Eli's panel. But you get the idea.
(Odd! The photo above is a bit of an optical illusion. Sometimes the prints look like indentations, but sometimes they seem convex. And, no, that isn't a wart on one of his fingers. That's a little dent where Eli was wiggly.)
We're so lucky! Aunt Lydia ("Li-ee-uh") is here visiting from Georgia for a week! We made a welcome sign to put in the guest room...
We also made sure there is plenty of interesting reading material around for Aunt Lydia to enjoy. If she doesn't know much about trains or Thomas the Tank Engine, she will by the time she leaves! (Here's Granddad and his little sister reading to Eli.)
Sunday, we decided to take Aunt Lydia on an adventure. Off we went to the wine country and the little town of Sonoma. The grownups went ooh and aah over the rolling hills and vineyards. As for Eli, the big draw was The Sonoma Train Town Railroad.
Little trains. Little boy. Big hat.
This mini theme park has carnival-type rides for tykes but also a small scale train that winds through the woods.
The train stops at a minature old style town where kids can explore the buildings and feed animals at the petting zoo.
The pint-sized fire station (Never fear; Papa is hovering just off-camera!)
We even got to explore real train cars.
Train Town is quite close to the downtown Sonoma.
The picturesque square offers shopping and two nice playgrounds. Oh. And very yummy restaurants.
The pizza is eye-rolling good!
And on the way home? The only Sonic in the area! Mama got her beloved Route 44-sized diet limeaid and Papa got a milkshake. Eli? Water. But your very own cup and straw is almost as fun as trains. Almost.
One Mama's Two Cents: Train town is a little cluttered and lacks polish, yet it is refreshingly simple. We had a very nice time and will visit again. The free admission and parking feels like a real steal in this day and age. The train ride was $4.95 per person, but we still got out of there much cheaper than most venues. If you have kids big enough to go on the other rides, I suppose the price goes up in a hurry. Still, there is quite a bit to interest a toddler -- duck pond, real train cars, miniature round house, etc. There's shade here, but not much true shelter if it is cold or wet, so bundle up if you go in wintery weather. And watch out for the rambunctious petting zoo animals. Because they get fed by tots from each train, they get a little competitive.
Many thanks to Sara for sharing her Sonoma travel tips and telling us about Train Town! And hello to cousins Tina and Kayla sharing Aunt Lydia's adventures from afar. Wish you could be here too!
Benjamin Hoff's The Tao of Pooh is one of those beloved books that moves from place to place with me, always earning its place on the shelf no matter how much thinning and discarding I do.
One morning not long ago I was trying to get Eli dressed, but he definitely had other ideas. As I repeatedly tried to thread wiggly arms through tot-sized sleeves, a section from Hoff's book about "Wu Wei" popped into my head:
"The Wu Wei approach to conflict-solving can be seen in the practice of the Taoist martial art of T'ai Chi Ch'uan, the basic idea of which is to wear the opponent out either by sending his energy back at him or deflecting it away, in order to weaken his power, balance, and position-for-defense." (pg. 87)
Hoff explains that Wu Wei is like poking at a cork floating in water. The harder you push it, the more it yields and the farther it goes under the water. Yet the more it yields and goes under, the more energy it has when it rockets back to the surface. That's simply because it is in the cork's very nature to float. He says, "Without expending energy, the cork can easily wear you out." Uh huh. Sounds like a toddler to me.
I have some days where I struggle to get Eli to comply only to realize he's too little to understand or care or have the self-control yet. I'm just poking at a cork and he's got boundless toddler energy to bounce back. There are some situations where I'm just going to wear myself out if I keep trying to get the same results the same way. (And with a few of the adults in my life, I've got to remind myself that they are who they are. Some people don't change no matter what the consequences.)
But the good news is that there are also some situations where I can refuse to let the naturally-occuring wild toddler streak get to me. I'm the cork then. As long as Eli is safe and isn't bothering other people, there are times when I can be resolutely cheerful, letting him wear himself out. Every once in a while I remember to float at the right time and the day bobs along quite nicely despite a few waves. So beautiful when that happens!
Parenthood. A little cork know-how goes a long way.
"Good evening. My name is Eli and I'll be your server tonight."
"We have an excellent selection of fruit and vegetables today. Organic, of course. We are in Berkeley, California."
"Tigger, I'll add a little extra to your plate so you won't get too hungry. You are a carnivore and I noticed your fellow diners are looking a little nervous."
"Tigger, Mr. Bear said he'd like you to have his veggies too. (Ahem.) Just in case."
"Hmmm. Maybe I have a honey pot somewhere around here that you could have instead, Mr. Bear."
"Pardon me, Madam. Do you have a reservation?"
(Brought to you by Epworth Playgroup.)
I have this thing about antique/vintage kitchen items from the early 20th century. I think it started with the love and companionship I found in my grandparents' kitchen. Battered utensils with touches of green or red paint bring back their home and their stories. Is that a whiff of hot biscuits?
(Photo above taken by my buddy Danielle back in 1998. Thanks, Yell!)
I saved quite a bit from my grandparents' kitchen after they passed on. I've collected more from antique stores too. I have old angel food cake spoons, cake testers, pastry blenders, and the like hanging on my kitchen walls. (Can you tell I have the heart of a baker?) This rental house has precious little wall space in the kitchen, but someday all my beloved treasures will be unpacked and displayed. Here is a line of cookie cutters that dance along the top of the kitchen doorway....
In the last few years, I found myself drawn to toy kitchen items. Pint-sized antique baking utensils remind me of happy days in my grandparents' back pasture. Back then, most trash was burned in a barrel while non-combustables got hauled far into the back pasture and tossed on a scrap heap hidden by the bushes. As a kid, I used to love sifting through decades' worth of cracked dishes and old blue glass Milk of Magnesia bottles. Oh, the triumph of finding that rusty spatula with the wobbly red wood handle! My grandparents' five acres even had a tiny pond full of soupy water and mud. Practice makes perfect and I'll have you know I was a World Class Mudpie Chef back in the day.
Not long ago I came across a collection of antique cooking toys for sale and decided to splurge on it. But nobody bid against me, so I got it for a song. Joy!
A pint-sized egg beater.
A percolator coffee pot! When I was little, our kitchen (and my grandparents' kitchen) always smelled like coffee in the mornings and the blurbling pot was such a cheery sound. And see this wee cake plate? Only a cake the size of your palm would fit in there. Since Eli loves to bake with me, I bet someday we'll make one just the right size.
One reason I decided to buy that recent big box of collectables is that there were plenty of duplicates. I could make a baking set for Eli. So many of the ones in toy stores now are all plastic. Eli's new baking toys feel like real pans and we can actually bake in them if we're careful. And if we remove Pig-It first.
My collection of old kitchen items are made from tin, aluminum, wood, or glass; I skip over plastic. My collection also stops before 1960. My new box of loot contained some 1960s toy plasticware -- a pink doll measuring cup and spoon, a teeny funnel, a fake crystal pitcher with matching goblets, etc. I put these aside to give away, but Eli soon spied them. You should have seen how his eyes lit up.
Now Eli has a new game called Pour. His heart's delight is to stand on the kitchen stool pouring and mixing like a mad scientist...or perhaps like a World Class Mudpie Chef developing the best recipe ever. (A drop of food coloring makes it that much more exciting.) Sure, the game would be more tidy in the bathtub, but I think part of the draw is "working" in the real kitchen.
Green Water and a Little Help from Grandma
How About Blue?
It cracks me up that Eli is really good at pouring water into the tall goblet. He stops at the rim each time. But there is a short goblet too and he constantly overflows that one. D'oh!
The game has evolved. I found a clear storage box for his Pour toys that also serves as a water reservoir. And I soon learned putting his whole set atop a plastic serving tray keeps the floor much drier.
But, hey, cleaning up is almost as much fun as pouring!
Happy mud pies to you, Little Guy.
So, less than a week after posting a blog entry about toddlers locked in/out, I went to help a friend who will soon move into a new house. We heard distant thumping and a little cry. Guess what? Her twenty month-old daughter was locked in her new bedroom...second floor...key lock. A quick call to the landlord confirmed there was no key.
Uh oh. Baby girl starting to cry.
The real challenge was getting the tot to back up far enough that she wouldn't get hurt. Her mom went into an adjoining bedroom and knocked on the wall to lure her away. I peeked under the door and saw no baby toes, so I used my foot and then my hip to break it down. CRACK! It was hard, but not as hard as I thought it would be. And once I could tell it was giving way, I held onto the door knob so it didn't go flying open. Soon the sweet tot was in her mama's arms. Yay! All is well that ends well.
Once we knew Baby Girl was safe and happy, it was kinda fun. I'd never kicked in a door before. I guess everybody needs a Chuck Norris moment every now and then.
JourneyLeaf is a tool to help me appreciate, preserve, and share those raggedy yet shining moments in everyday life. Joy requires practice. (To read more, click above on the word "ABOUT.")
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My primary camera is a Canon EOS Digital Rebel T5 with a Sigma DC 18-200mm lens (1:3.5-6.3) or Canon EFS 18-55mm lens. On occasion I also use my iPhone 6. For crisper images (when I'm not in a hurry to grab the shot), I use a Dolica Proline B100 tripod. I often tweak my images using Adobe Photoshop Elements 8.