NJ's Kulinary Korner, Part 2

Today, NJ learned that there is a thing in the world that is a "chocolate milkshake." She finds them to be highly pleasurable.

The beginning of a beautiful friendship.

She's even confident that she can indulge in the occasional "chocolate milkshake" and not drink herself out of swimsuit season.

The 'before' photo.

NJ's Kulinary Korner

It was a big week for NJ's taste buds -- the kid busted two new taste sensation moves on her palate, and refined a third that can be tricky for an almost-two-year-old to pull off.

First, the refinement -- her first experience with corn-on-the-cob came last month, and last night she proved that she's got it down:

Is it true, Daddy, that you can fashion this thing into a pipe once I'm done eating?

Now, the new stuff.

I've been wanting to take the kid out for sushi for a while now. Last week I spoke to a friend whose daughter is almost 4, and when that kid was 2 she was eating not only sushi but oysters on the half-shell -- something I didn't even muster up the courage to try until I was an adult. So this past weekend we lunched at a very good nearby sushi joint.

I would quote from the Tubes' song 'Sushi Girl' here, but I'm trying to rein my habit of making references so obscure that only I get them. As fun as that is -- and trust me, it's fun. Sometimes I really crack myself up.

NJ mostly stuck to tempura, rice and veggies, as we're well aware of concerns about potential shellfish allergies and mercury in uncooked or steamed fish (The Wife went semi-mad when she couldn't eat sushi during the pregnancy). But when I gave her a bit of my fatty tuna she scarfed it down and asked for more. And more. I had to get another order. It won't be a regular thing, by any means, but she's gotten a taste for it and found it to be good.

But the real action came Saturday when we swung by a the soon-to-be-open ice cream place a couple of blocks away. It doesn't open for a couple weeks, but on the weekends they've hauled out a cart and sold sample-sized cups (it's very good, too!). NJ got her first taste of ice cream, and if she could articulate a little better she'd tell you that her life has been irrevocably and forever changed.

"Really? This tastes like this? Wow! I could really get used to 'chocolate ice cream.'"

When you ask NJ to 'make your sad face' while she's eating chocolate ice cream, this is as close as she can get.

I forgive you guys for not giving me ice cream before. Just make sure it's always in the house from here on out and we're good.

The best part of the ice cream introduction? She had some for dessert two nights in a row, and both times I watched as she ate a bite, and another, and another, etc. until she just put her spoon down and asked to get up from the table. In other words, she ate until she'd had enough, then stopped. One day I'll have to ask her how she does that.

Under The Radar

The Wife's been out of town since Thursday morning -- she had to leave America on business -- and she returns tomorrow (Sunday) morning. I haven't mentioned it yet because nothing extraordinary has happened with NJ and me, other than a full metric ton of adorable cute stuff that, if I listed in full, would go on and on and I'd end up looking like even more of a proud, hopelessly smitten daddy than I actually am.

The Wife was particularly worried about being gone for a weekend day, but NJ and I handled it just fine -- both slept until 8 a.m., took a long walk to a great bakery -- cheddar scone for me, small baked custard cake for NJ -- shopped Costco, napped, shopped the supermarket, ate, bathed (her), and partied. We've had a great time together, although we can't wait for The Wife to return.

Dad Solo misjudged Costco-vs.-naptime a little bit, but everything worked out OK.

Random notes:

• Other than a couple of expected tantrums -- food not coming fast enough, only one cookie proffered, the dreaded Shampoo Night -- NJ was the absolute picture of sweetness and light. I actually pinched myself once to make sure it all was actually occurring.
  
• For the first time in her life, I caught a whiff of bad breath on NJ. Stale, stinky morning breath. Now, if I smell it on her another 578 times, we'll be even.
• Her mastery of the English language continues to expand exponentially. The latest: She can say her name, and uses it instead of "bay-bee" when I show her a photo of herself.
  
• Couscous is her favorite food of the moment. She requested "coo-coos" for dinner last night and ate it with breakfast, lunch and dinner today.
• The buffalo-and-cheese patty melt I made her for dinner tonight? The dog loved it.
• When I took a box of Annie's Cheddar Bunnies off the supermarket shelf today and showed it to NJ, she exclaimed "Bunnies!" and pulled the box to her, hugging it and, I think, even kissing it. An elderly woman on the aisle almost fell over with a Cuteness Blackout.
  
• I think maybe my favorite thing ever is showing up to get NJ from day care and standing the big picture window, watching her play or read or sit, until she notices me. Then she kicks into action, heading first to the window with open arms and "Daddy!" on her lips, then to the door I'll be coming through. Once I pick her up, she beams and looks at her teachers and the other kids as if to say, "Yeah, I'm happy to see this big doofus because, gosh dang it, I love him." I hurt my face smiling every time it happens.

Daddy's got this single-parenting thing DOWN, suckas!

Kayak Kween

Yesterday we went to REI, and NJ decided to forgo watching me try on shoes in favor of playing in the kiddie area. Specifically, the kayak:

Someone get a paddle in my hands and water under this thing so I can get going.

We've made it a habit to get out as much as we can on the weekends, but this weekend ended up being lunch out each day (here yesterday, here earlier this afternoon -- NJ loves their guac, and will be eating her leftover fish taco for dinner in a little while) and yesterday's REI appearance. The weekend weather's been cold/wet/gray for a while now, so outdoor fun opportunities are somewhat limited.

The Wife just left for an overnight in Portland and wasn't too thrilled to be leaving her daughter behind for the first time in many months. It's the first time I'll have NJ all to myself since she's become a walking, almost-talking terror, so we'll see how it goes. Hopefully it goes well, because there The Wife has another trip planned next week.

Time to go.

I Was Born With A Plastic Spoon In My Mouth

I wouldn't say that NJ has mastered using a spoon, but she's headed in the right direction.

I like The Who too, Daddy, but this spoon is made of silicone.

Once NJ realizes that she's got to hold the spoon upright on the entire journey from food to mouth, she'll be golden. Last night she dumped as much yogurt on the front of her dress as she managed to deposit into her gob. At bath time, I carried her into her room to change at arm's length. Today things went a lot smoother.

As you can see in the lower right, The Wife stands at the ready to help out -- there's been lots of two-spoon eating lately. NJ'll nail it down yet.

When Black Friday Comes ...

... that means Thanksgiving is over. Here, the gobble holiday was about as low-key as it gets. We did a lot of laundry, watched some depressing football games, and ate the traditional turkey-stuffing-green beans-squash-pumpkin pie feast. NJ had a good day.

Pie! More pie, please. And more of this delicious white stuff that accompanies it. Actually, I'll just take more white stuff.

Raisin NJ*

*or "Raisin Cain" or "Raisin da Roof" or "Raisin Objections" or whatever other lame "Raisin" pun you can think of

Get up offa that thing!

You will be mine. You will be mine, all mine.

One's too many and a hundred ain't enough.

The Party's Over

Turn out the lights, the party's over
They say that all good things must end

Certain NJ-related developments around the household have that chorus running through my head at seemingly regular intervals. (It's usually Dandy Don Meredith's voice in my head, what with me being a football fan and a child of the '70s and all, but Willie's version is just so damn smooth. You're welcome!) The kid that I used to rave about, well ... oh, I'm still raving. But things aren't like they used to be. To wit:

Crying and whining. The kid was pretty good about this for a long, long time. Now, though, she's learned that crying and whining gets results. It really started during the Daycare Sickness Jubilee, and who could blame her for crying and whining then? Not me. But -- and it seems like some sort of world record -- she's been illness-free for at least a week now. The crying and whining? It's survived. Long ago, I think it was in NJ's first week, someone warned us against bending to the will of a baby who would "manipulate us." It was premature advice -- I didn't think a one-week-old knew much from manipulation -- but now I'm starting to get it. Particularly when she throws a loud, blubbery six-second fit and then calmly, coolly inserts her thumb in her mouth and clams up. Plotting her next move, no doubt.

Sleeping. I said once before that the contently sleeping infant who made us the envy of new parents all across north Seattle was long gone, and it's still true even though the daycare colds and bugs are gone. She can be counted on to wake up once per night these days. Thankfully it's not as bad as when she was sick -- last week, her nose was so stuffed up that when she sucked her thumb, she couldn't breathe. I imagine that was pretty frustrating for the little kid. Again, though, it's better now that -- for the moment -- she isn't sick. Also, I'm sure this can be blamed in part on her teething: Her teeth took their sweet time showing up, and now they're making up for lost time -- three are coming in now on the top, maybe even four. So we coasted for a while there on the teething front, and now it's catching up to us. This is a factor in the crying/whining, too, I'm sure.

Eating. NJ is no longer the Hungry Monkey who'll eat whatever is put in front of her. The first thing she struck off her to-eat list? Broccoli. She seems to get pickier by the day. And worse, she's started holding out for the things she likes best. A couple of evenings ago I made the mistake of saying the word "yogurt" aloud, and she was inconsolable (see "Crying and whining," above) until The Wife was shoveling creamy, peachy goodness into her mouth.

Preferring her mom to me. This one is the toughest to take. NJ's shown a decisive preference for The Wife, as compared to Dad Solo. The Wife brings her upstairs in the morning and she can't put her down on the bed with me to get dressed because NJ starts crying. The Wife goes into the kitchen to make dinner and she can't leave NJ with me because the kid starts crying; instead, she sits in her high chair in the kitchen and watches her mom. It's not that she dislikes me or anything -- she just was practicing standing up and beamed at me every time for approval -- it's just that she is into her mom right now and makes it clear. She's playing favorites and right now I'm lagging. The Wife spent an hour at day care last Friday for some pumpkin-carving goings-on, and a couple was there with their kid. The mom left and the kid started crying in dad's arms. The Wife leaned over to another father and said, "I wish my husband was here to see this, he'd feel better." The man (allegedly) replied, "Happens at our house, too. It's normal." I put a year into caring for her exclusively, you'd think I'd have some good will stored up by now. But: No. I still have to earn it every day.

Goodbye, Barking Frog; Hello, Dr. Maze And Red Robin

We drove to Redmond today and stopped at the intersection of Willows and 124th, right where the big fields open up. I could have turned left there and we would have been heading toward the wineries of Woodinville, which are just a couple of miles up from there. After hitting two or three of our favorites, we could have lunched at the Barking Frog before a leisurely drive back across Lake Washington to the city.

Instead, though, we drove straight through that intersection and pulled over to Dr. Maze's Farm for Pumpkin Patch Day! Because, you see, unlike those halcyon winery-going days of yore, now we've got the kid. I think photographs of adorable kids sitting amongst pumpkins are fine and dandy, but not nearly to the extent that, apparently, everyone else in the world does. I'm incredibly easy-going, as everyone knows, so when The Wife brought up earlier in the week, I got on board.

You know who didn't get on board? NJ. She didn't get on board. She just got "on bored." (Zing!) The first thing she did was get behind a wooden cut-out of Dr. Maze's truck and try to make her escape (which actually elicited the best smiles of the patch outing):

See ya, Daddy, wouldn't wanna be ya! Mommy and I are OUTTA HERE!

She showed a little interest in the goats and alpacas, but she'd seen farm animals just a couple weeks earlier and it was a bit old hat.

Yeah, yeah, I'm close to an exotic animal and he's cute. Whatevs. Anything more interesting over there?

Then, the pumpkin patch. A few days ago The Wife bought a couple of pumpkins to autumn-ize and Halloween-ready our front porch, so we were just about the only folks there not wheeling pumpkins around in wheelbarrows. I broke out the camcorder, but NJ was still pretty bored (also, she's been a little bundle of cranky joy lately, what with three teeth coming in at the same time). I must have hit wrong buttons or something, because when we got home this was all I had:


Nice job, Dad! You're a regular Francis Ford Scorsese.

Aaaaaaannnnddd ... that was pretty much it. We took some shots, but NJ didn't look at the camera much; her heart just wasn't in it. Here's just about the best of the lot:

That's your father, NJ. Act as if you like him, please.

Then, lunchtime. We drove around Redmond a bit until it struck us that we'd be eating at Red Robin; it's made for parents and kids. The last time I ate (I just typed "hate" by mistake; paging Dr. Freud!) at a Red Robin was in July 2009, when The Wife and I were on our way to the Oregon coast for our last pre-NJ trip. We were starving for lunch, and Red Robin was the only thing we could find at the next exit. We were seated at a table next to a family with a couple of kids who were having some loud fun, and The Wife -- who looked like this then, great with child -- said "Get used to it, we'll be going to these places a lot pretty soon." Fifteen months later, there we were. NJ was immediately interested when she saw kids leaving Red Robin with balloons, which she's already on record as being partial to. As soon as we got in, she was given a red balloon and her attitude noticeably spiked to "fun."

You can stuff your pumpkins in a sack, Mister, because THIS is a party!

NJ feasted on chicken, steak fries and a little broccoli. She also learned that she likes ketchup, thanks to me dabbing it on my finger and sticking said finger in her mouth. There were tons of other kids there, including a five-month-old boy sitting at the next table who cried until his mother pulled him in underneath the public-breastfeeding blanket, a sight that brought back fond memories of The Wife putting that cape-like thing on and hustling NJ underneath for a quick, inconspicuous meal. Now, we're thrusting mashed-up steak fries at her and swabbing the inside of her mouth with ketchup. Once we got home, NJ and Dad Solo both hit their respective beds for nice, long naps.

So thanks, Red Robin, for turning our afternoon around. Even though the burger I ate five hours ago is sitting in my gutty-works like an unmovable stone right now, and it actually feels like it's getting bigger and bigger.

It's their signature blend, so you KNOW it's gonna be good!

Saint NJ's Infirmary

What's worse than having a stomach virus that makes you throw up a lot?

Maybe having that virus travel further through your intestinal tract, and dealing with the fallout from that?

And what if you added not one, not two, but three new teeth making their gum-breaking debut simultaneously?

And then, let's say, all three of those conditions hit at once. And on the weekend you turned fourteen months, too boot. Is that something you might enjoy?

Yeah, NJ's not enjoying either, let me tell you. Tired, whiny, no energy. The kid's scuffling.

The patient, in happier times (almost a month ago).

To be fair, though, NJ's whining has not escalated from her whining that I've been whining about lately. She's been sick on and off for about a month now, and she's been going to day care for a month and a half -- do the math there -- and when she had a stuffy head you could tell it frustrated her not to be able to breathe through both nostrils without all the snot and snot bubbles. But this is the first time I've seen her really look sick: pale (except the red cheeks from teething), wan, and a sort of tired, resigned. "when will this be over?" look in her blue eyes. She's been smiling some, too, but it's a little weary. There's might even be a little resignation to it (that I'm probably projecting). She's drinking water and Pedialyte and eating yogurt, and hopefully will graduate to Jello tonight. I put a bland rice-and-broccoli lunch in front of her today and the look she shot me was best described as "exasperated desperation." "You have got to be kidding me, old man!" her eyes said.

And the teeth: All on the top ridge, in various stages of unveiling. She's had only two teeth for so long now I'd almost forgotten more were due to debut. Two are through the gum and the third is right behind, so hopefully the worst of that is over.

All that said, NJ is a tough little tyke. She's still standing up and looking around for congratulations, crawling around the basement (a little slower), chortling at her dad's "anything for a laugh" act, and doing brainy things like putting a soft round block into a soft square block that has round hole in the center, and then popping it out again. She's down, but she ain't out.

Day Care Confidential

A recap of NJ's first week of day care:

Day 1: The Wife checked everything out thoroughly at the center and, reluctantly, left for work. She told the teachers that NJ's proposed breakfast snack of Frosted Mini-Wheats was a tricky endeavor for a kid with only two teeth, so NJ ate cheese instead. NJ then made a beeline to a set of blocks in a corner and immediately took an interest in a new friend, barely noticing The Wife's departure. When The Wife returned to pick her up, though, NJ cried when she saw her ("Oh yeah, that's right -- my parents! I was so excited about the toys and children I completely forgot that they abandoned me!"). She only slept for 30 minutes that day, approximately one-fourth of her usual naptime.

Day 2: Just like the day before, NJ got her hands washed first thing. Unlike the day before, though, this made NJ cry. Raw broccoli and Wheat Thins for breakfast snack: Again, not good for the tooth-deprived, so some soft bread was procured. Play time wasn't as good, either. Two older girls -- awful, selfish, mean girls -- were grabby and wouldn't let her have any blocks. NJ waved goodbye to The Wife when she left, then crawled off to find some nicer friends. There were no tears at the afternoon pick-up. NJ slept an hour this time. And like the first day, she wouldn't take a bottle and was very hungry when she got home.

Day 3: There was no Day 3. The Wife stayed home with NJ. They went to a park and to the beach in Ballard while I slaved away here in the basement office.

The notes the day care folks send home with NJ were glowing both days, but they were so happy-happy-joy-joy I semi-question their accuracy. Still, no worries. NJ has a little bruise on her leg that probably came from getting jostled or falling onto a toy or something. By the time she's old enough to read she'll have forgotten all about her first day care experiences, I'm sure. But if she could read this now, and talk, she'd no doubt say something along the lines of "Why were you two so anxious about this? It's cake."