Tragic Sandwich

Tag: Baguette

  • Bedtime for Baguette

    When? Later than we’d like. How? Much, much harder than we’d like. This little girl does not like to sleep.

    Also, she’s started to climb, and she’s very strong. Recently, we’ve spotted her grabbing the top rail of her crib and planting both feet on the rails in an attempt to scale the sides.

    We all know what’s coming next–she’ll make it to the top and fall out. Hence Mr. Sandwich’s latest project:

    That’s right–he built this toddler bed himself. It’s very sturdy, but made of soft wood (someone likes to chew). And it’s midway through being finished with nontoxic butcher block conditioner (again with the chewing). He’ll add a rail to the side that won’t be against the wall. And yes, we will let her have a mattress.

    I think she’ll like it.

  • “I Think She’s Just Being a Weird Baby Today”

    Baguette’s Grandma and Grandpa came for a visit this weekend. They live out of town, and it’s been about four months since she’s seen them. That’s a quarter of her life, so it took her a little time to remember who they are. But once she did, she plopped down in Grandpa’s lap for reading time.

    Unfortunately, on Saturday Baguette woke up as Grumpy Baby. She didn’t like anything, and she particularly didn’t like it if I put her down. And while she did consent to a nap on Grandpa’s chest, it didn’t seem to help her mood much. This did not exactly simplify our preparations for that night’s cookout for 16 people (steak, salmon, sausages, asparagus, and tomato-rice salad, by the way).

    Baguette remained clingy throughout the cookout, although she did allow herself to be entertained by the six-year-old who provided the title to this post–a statement made, by the way, with a tone of acceptance and tolerance that I consider to be quite impressive at any age. And although she wanted very little to do with Grandma and Grandpa for much of the day, she did lean in and give them both goodnight kisses through her pacifier.

    Sunday was better; she started out with post-party fussiness, but perked up with a trip to the park. There she climbed up and slid down the slides, worked her way up stairs, and played in the sand. When we moved to a shady spot on the grass, she realized that “Da-Dee” wasn’t with us. Three different times, she set off down the path to find him, more than happy for Grandpa to walk with her as she looked. Then she’d come back and paw through my purse before setting out again.

    After dinner, she settled in with Grandpa and her four books that she likes, and made him read to her for at least half an hour. When it came time for Grandma and Grandpa to leave, she leaned in for hugs all around and waved to them as they drove away. We’ll go through it all over again in November, when we get together for Thanksgiving.

    And now, of course, I realize that part of Baguette’s “Weird Baby” episode can be attributed to Saturday’s lunch. Just because she liked the chicken tikka masala doesn’t mean it entirely agreed with her.

  • Baby Talk

    Lt. Weinberg: You’ve heard her. My daughter said a word. She said, “Pa.”
    Kaffee: She was pointing to a mailbox, Sam.
    Lt. Weinberg: That’s right. She pointed to the mailbox as if to say, “Pa, look, a mailbox.”

    —A Few Good Men

    My mother always said that my first word was “word.” Today, that sounds like I must have been a really early rapper, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the case.

    Baguette’s first word was “monkey.” She said it while looking at a monkey, so I’m reasonably certain she was actually talking about monkeys. Also, Mr. Sandwich’s mother heard it too, and there’s no way a grandmother could be biased in favor of early speech, right? Meanwhile, Baguette has yet to repeat the word.

    Her next word, several weeks later, was “diaper.” My unbiased witness in this case was Mr. Sandwich.

    Now she’s 16 months old, and her vocabulary continues to grow. Here are a few of her favorites:

    • “Mama”
    • “Daddy”
    • “Wicket”
    • “Up”
    • “Out”
    • “Outside”
    • “Bubble”
    • “Ball”

    …and something that sounds suspiciously like “more milk.”

    What were your children’s earliest words?

  • Parenting, Page by Page

    Baby & Parenting Books, Puzzles

    This is not my bookshelf.

    When I was pregnant with Baguette, I bought The Mayo Clinic Guide to a Healthy Pregnancy and The Panic-Free Pregnancy. I figured that pretty much covered it, considering that I have an obstetrician who I trust.

    After Baguette was born, we started using Dr. Spock (current edition and the one my mother would have used–thank you, eBay!), as well as Your Baby’s First Year Week by Week and Your Baby Month By Month. I read them for a few weeks, and then stopped–she seemed to be on target, we have a pediatrician who we trust, and (no matter how many caveats the books included) focusing on such a detailed level seemed likely to induce anxiety. And all of us have enough of that on our own regarding parenting, don’t we?

    We’ve inherited a couple of toddler-focused books, which I think I’ve looked at once–I’ve long switched to using these books to see if I can find specific answers (how much milk should Baguette be drinking each day?) rather than reading them completely.

    Then Motherlode started a book club. So far I’ve bought each of the three books: Torn, Origins, and No Biking in the House Without a Helmet.

    I haven’t read that last one, so I’ll focus on the first two. Torn is a collection of articles, mostly written by women who work outside the home (my mom was a stay-at-home-mom, and I know that path is work, too–believe me!). As I myself am not torn about working, most of the articles didn’t reflect my own experience or feelings–but I did find them interesting. In fact, that actually made the book more interesting to me, because it gave me the chance to learn about how others are affected by their life choices. (I already know how I’m affected by mine, after all.) Origins focuses on fetal development, and while I found it interesting, I also thought that the author was too focused on bringing every issue back to that topic. I have no doubt that what happens in the womb is incredibly influential on babies, in ways that can affect us throughout our lives, but that doesn’t mean everything can be traced back to that source.

    If you’re looking for something lighter, you might try Jay Mohr’s No Wonder My Parents Drank: Tales from a Stand-Up Dad. I don’t find Mohr’s stand-up particularly funny, but I could relate to an awful lot of this book–and I found him much more likeable as a person after reading it.

    So what are you reading?

    Photo by SierraTierra, via Flickr.

  • My Balance: Tragic Sandwich

    Rock-Scale

    I don’t know anyone in this photo; I just liked it!

    I got this idea from a post on Oil and Garlic; she got it from A Cup of Jo. Does that make it a meme? At any rate, here goes:

    1. What’s your work schedule?

    I start work at 8 a.m. (or thereabouts, depending on whether my bus is on time) and leave at 5 p.m., Monday through Friday. Mr. Sandwich works 7 a.m. to 4 p.m., so our schedules are a little staggered. We used to commute together, but when my maternity leave ended, we needed to shift it a bit. Each of us comutes by bus, although I sometimes drive to work if I have a late-afternoon doctor’s appointment, or if I miss the bus and my day doesn’t allow for me to be 15 minutes late. Or if I’m super tired and the bus is SRO by the time it gets to my stop.

    My alarm goes off at 5:20, and I get up one snooze-button hit later. I drop Baguette off and drive like a crazy person to get to my bus stop. Mr. Sandwich picks Baguette up, and we all get home a little after 6 p.m. Then we play with her, take her and the dog for a walk, feed her, and bathe her when she needs it. (The order of these events varies depending on the day.) She hates to go to sleep, so there is usually a fairly long wind-down period, with lowered lights and hushed talking and a final bottle. We want her to go to bed between 8 and 8:30, but all too often she isn’t ready until about an hour later. Then we get our things and hers ready for the next day and watch a tiny amount of TV, and get to bed between 10:30 and 11:00–about an hour later than I’d like, but that’s how the time goes.

    2. How do you handle childcare?

    We found a wonderful day care center that is about a two-minute drive from the house. It’s like paying a second mortgage–and I am not exaggerating–but we have so much confidence in them, and Baguette really likes the teachers and her little friends. If she gets sick, one of us stays home with her. Mr. Sandwich’s parents live in town, so sometimes they will come over on the weekend and help us with supervising Baguette and completing tasks around the house.

    3. What do you find best about your current set-up?

    It works. I really like her day care, although I wish it weren’t so expensive. I wish my commute were shorter, but I live in the real world of Los Angeles, and that’s how commutes work here.

    4. What advice would you give to other moms about the juggle?

    Establish priorities, and don’t beat yourself up. I had fantasies of cooking meals for the three of us. This could work, because Baguette is a pretty flexible eater. This absolutely does not work, because I just don’t have time. I felt bad about it for far too long, and then I acknowledged that I really can’t do anything but supervise her when I’m with her–she’s just too active. So now I hope to be able to do that in the future. But it’s completely unproductive to feel bad about not doing something that I just can’t do.

    One of my friends has a daughter a couple of months older than Baguette, and she makes amazing meals every night and spends time with her children. I used to wonder how she managed it, and then I mapped the distance between her house and her work. Guess what–she doesn’t have my commute! So she’s got more time to work with. It’s not realistic to compare my life to hers, because they just aren’t the same. That’s true for everyone else, too.

    5. Do you think the juggle is harder for women than for men?

    Yes. Mr. Sandwich is a very hands-on dad, and he’s also done pretty much all of our laundry for much of the past year. But Baguette is a very hands-on baby, and she wants me when I’m home. I feel like I’ve been mommy-tracked at work, and I made every effort that I could think of to avoid that. He’s got his own work issues (don’t we all?), but I haven’t gotten the impression that he’s been daddy-tracked. That can happen, of course, but I think it’s much less common.

    Photo by neurmadic aesthetic, via Flickr.

  • Some Days, I Wish I Had Twins

    Before you say, “Tragic Sandwich, that’s crazy talk,” hear me out:

    Baguette hates to go to sleep. And what we’ve come to realize is that part of what she hates is being alone. Which makes sense, because nighttime is the only time she’s alone, and so when we leave her in her crib, she feels abandoned.

    It’s not just disappointment at being unable to stay up and play more. There’s real sorrow in her cries. And I think that if she had a twin in there with her, she wouldn’t feel alone, and would go to sleep more easily.

    So maybe it is crazy talk. But there is a logic to it.

  • Go, Dog, Go!

    Go Dog Go!

    Baguette loves books, but she won’t let me read to her. She grabs the book out of my hand and goes through the pages in whatever order makes sense to her, pointing and chattering about what’s on the page.

    At least, that’s what happened until Monday morning. On Monday, as I was getting her ready for day care and me ready for work, she picked up the board book version of P.D. Eastman’s Go, Dog, Go! and handed it to me to read. When I asked her if she wanted to read it herself, she pushed it at me. So I read it to her, and then read it to her a second time. And I realized that now I have to build reading time into our morning.

    This is tricky. In order to have time with Baguette in the evening, I have to leave work no later than 5:00. That means I have to be at work by 8:00 a.m., which means (with my commute) that I drop her off at day care at 7:00. This works as long as she’s up between 6:00 and 6:15. In order to get my morning stuff done before she’s awake, I get up at 5:30. And that’s already earlier than I want to have either of us wake up. So squeezing book time into that morning is not easy.

    But she also wants me to read it to her at night. Last night, as we were trying to get her to wind down for the evening (and that is no simple task–Baguette hates to go to sleep), she had me read the book. And then read it again. And again. And again. I think I read it at least eight times, always in the slow, soothing delivery I’d normally give to something like Goodnight, Moon. Seriously, you have never known so many fast-moving dogs to travel at such a measured pace.

    But as I look at the book–which I’m now a little crazy about, myself–I am struck by the illustrations in a way I haven’t been before. They really do have an energy and an excitement, and I’m starting to wonder if Dr. Seuss and the Eastmans (and possibly the Berenstains) haven’t done all of us a disservice.

    Because real life just doesn’t measure up to these books.

    Look at that first page, where the dogs jump out of an enormous bed. Isn’t that bed huge? Doesn’t it look like a great place to sleep? Are you that energized when you get out of your bed in the morning? I know I’m not. I don’t think I ever have been.

    And the dogs who travel “by boat.” I want to hang out on that boat. It’s got a doghouse with a diving board. It’s the most awesome dog houseboat imaginable. Look how enthusiastic the swan-diving dog is!

    Mostly, though, it’s the last page (spoiler alert!). Have you ever been to a party as much fun as the dog party? No, I didn’t think so. None of us have, and we probably never will. Parties are fun, but the dog party surpasses them all.

    Real life. It’s just not like board books. And that’s a sad realization.

    Photo by Creative Nickie, via Flickr.

  • How to Mommy Blog

    That title should probably have a question mark at the end of it, because this isn’t an advice post. I’m too new at this topic to give advice (eh, like that stops me anywhere else). Instead, this is a post about my thought process regarding Baguette and blogging.

    Baguette has no idea that I blog. I could post every day about everything she does, and she’d be none the wiser–she’s 15 months old. But someday she’ll be older, and she–and her friends–will be able to read. And surf the web.

    With that in mind, I’m trying not to post things that I think will someday be embarrassing to her. Yes, I realize the time will come when my very existence will be embarrassing. But why provide fuel for that fire?

    That’s why, for now, I’m only posting photos that don’t show her face. I don’t know how I feel about posting photos of her on the blog, because it’s public, and maybe several years from now she’ll be mad that I did that. I figure that photos of her back still give her that privacy. I’m not doing this out of a sense of safety–I don’t think predators go looking at random blogs thinking, “Maybe this one called ‘Tragic Sandwich’ will include photos of a small child.” But I do think she’s entitled to a measure of privacy.

    So please bear with me as I figure out how to write about her, and parenting, and our lives. Hopefully I’ll manage to pull all of that together in a way that is moderately entertaining.

  • Beach Blanket Baguette, Part 2

    So, what did we eat during our trip to Santa Barbara? Well, Baguette ate her usual array of dried fruits, Kix, and Wheat Thins, plus whatever seemed appealing from our plates. Our Motel 6 turned out to be very conveniently located; a host of restaurant options are found nearby. Our first meal was at Denny’s, largely to provide a grouchy, sick-of-the-car Baguette with an easy setting. After that, though, we avoided national chains (well, we did make daily trips to the corner 7-11 for milk) for local spots.

    On Sunday morning, Max’s Restaurant provided me with an excellent omelet, and all I had to do was cross the street. And while I’m not generally a fan of homestyle potatoes, these were excellent. I stopped in at Vices & Spices for a latte–great name, cute shop, good service, weak latte. Apparently their chai tea lattes are good; I’d have ordered that if I’d read the reviews first. An early dinner next door at Madam Lu featured chicken with black bean sauce and chicken chow fun–both fairly basic (although the black bean sauce had a bit of a kick to it) but tasty. As it turns out, Baguette was just fine with a bit of a kick to her black bean sauce.

    On Monday we walked half a block to Farmer Boy, where I rediscovered my mixed feelings about buckwheat pancakes. However, this is exactly the kind of local place we like–the patrons clearly are regulars, but everyone was very welcoming. We liked it so much we went back on Wednesday. Lunch came from the touristy but still worthwhile Pea Soup Anderson’s in Buellton. While the pea soup is vegetarian, the Monte Cristo was not. Neither was the vanilla milk shake, which seemed to be a glass full of soft-serve ice cream–decadent, but tasty. We spent the evening with cousins who live in the area, where we had delightful conversation and a delicious Indonesian dish featuring chicken in peanut sauce served with shrimp and rice. Their dog was a big hit with Baguette; naturally, she called him “Wicket” all evening, and was much better at remembering the meaning of “gentle” than she is with the actual Wicket.

    One day later and half a block in the other direction, Jeannine’s Bakery provided us with a breakfast of salmon hash and ham-and-swiss frittata. The coffee was great, and I wanted to eat every pastry in sight–they all looked amazing. For dinner, we did eat at one other chain; after our trip to the beach, we were hungry in a way that only a burger from The Habit could satisfy.

    We had thought we’d try to find some Santa Maria-style bar-b-que, since we weren’t that far from Santa Maria. Although nothing from that particular specialty emerged, we did stop by Killer B’s for pulled pork, brisket, and chicken. Our verdict? Food B+; Service C. Late that evening, Rusty’s Pizza Parlor provided us with the casual, customized meal we were looking for (I like thin crusts; Mr. Sandwich prefers pan pizza), complete with a back room illustrated by Frank Webb. If you don’t know who Frank Webb was, he’s the guy who published step-by-step drawings of faces based on letters of the alphabet–and created the original concept drawings of Disney’s Goofy.

    On Thursday morning, we consulted Yelp and made our way to Garrett’s Old Fashion Restaurant. As advertised, the blueberry pancakes were excellent, and so was the service. We sat outside, to minimize the effects of a mercurial 15-month-old on other patrons, and our waiter made us feel like the most important table he was serving. That evening we joined friends at The Brewhouse, a local brewery and restaurant. I had an apricot wheat ale, and Mr. Sandwich and I each ordered wiener schnitzel. It turned out to be crispy, tender, and flavorful–and Baguette spent much of the evening working on her own piece (when she wasn’t petting the gentle pit bull she insisted on calling “Wicket.”)

    Friday morning found us at Cody’s Cafe in Goleta, where the pork chili verde omelet is excellent. Even Baguette liked the slightly spicy salsa verde in which the meat had been simmered; I’m going to have to try this at home. For dinner, we had Santa Maria-style tri-tip at Woody’s; this visit pretty much convinced me that I’m underwhelmed by tri-tip. It just doesn’t seem to be a cut with much flavor, and I like beef to have flavor. Call me crazy.

    We wrapped up our trip with one more breakfast at Farmer Boy, followed by a chicken gyro at the Santa Barbara Greek Festival. My conclusion: the chicken gyro was just fine, although not as good as a regular gyro. On the other hand, the line was a lot shorter. So I figure we came out ahead.

    On the whole, food in Santa Barbara is worth stopping for. There are a lot of options beyond the usual fast food restaurants–and that’s good, because (a) fast food restaurants are kind of boring, and (b) they’re also not always that easy to find in Santa Barbara due to regulations on signage. So take your smartphone, and eat up.

  • Beach Blanket Baguette, Part 1

    It’s been a long time since the Sandwiches had a real vacation–and, technically speaking, this was Baguette’s first. Yes, we’ve gone out of town to visit family, but we’ve also stayed with them, so there’s been a bit of a safety net. After some discussion (consisting in early stages of “Hey, did you want to go somewhere this summer?”) and some rudimentary budgeting (consisting largely of “It costs how much to fly to Kauai this year?”), we settled on Santa Barbara.

    Next up: Where to stay. Unfortunately, the condos in our price range were not available in our date range, which meant that we needed to find a hotel. Motel 6 to the rescue! I’ve never stayed in a Microtel, but this is what I’ve imagined those are like: tiny, with the basics (although this room does have a surprisingly large bathroom, all things considered). But it’s clean and mostly in our price range, so here we are. And on the whole, it’s been a good base of operations. So what have we done from this base?

    The Santa Barbara Zoo is just off the 101, close to the ocean, and home to the first capybara I’ve ever seen. Unless you count the ROUSes from The Princess Bride, of course.

    Bridlewood Estate Winery features not just a few racehorses, but also one of the few chardonnays I’ve actually enjoyed. I’m not a big wine drinker (or drinker of anything, really, other than water), and I don’t tend to like wines that are too dry. This one wasn’t, so I bought three bottles. Baguette of course drinks no wine at all, and she’s a little afraid of racehorses, but that didn’t stop her from calling out “Wicket!” in an attempt to get their attention. (On this trip, we learned that Baguette thinks all animals–and some humans–are her dog.)

    One late afternoon, we went to Hendry’s Beach (that’s the local name–the “real” name is Arroyo Burro Beach). This is Santa Barbara’s dog beach, and there were dogs as far as the eye could see. Baguette wanted to run after each one of them, but was easily distracted by the ocean–she loved the waves and the sand, and had a wonderful time on Baby’s First Beach Trip.

    At the heart of town, Stearns Wharf is home to the Ty Warner Sea Center, where Baguette touched a shark and was delighted to find any number of fish, sea stars, and otters which are apparently named “Wicket.”

    Mr. Sandwich and I found the dioramas of elk, bears, birds, and newts at the Santa Barbara Museum of Natural History to be delightfully old-school–although upon reflection we realized that neither of us has been in a natural history museum since perhaps the early 1980s, with the result that we don’t have the slightest sense of what is new-fangled in this field. It’s possible that the process of reinterpretation has passed right by this subset of museum management, and it’s also possible that modernity has passed us by, since I actually said “new-fangled” out loud today.

    Santa Barbara is home to two wading pools; we went to the one at West Beach. Since Baguette loves the pool (a recent discovery that has helped us conquer her fear and loathing of all things bath), we thought that an 18-inch-deep one might be just her speed. She had a wonderful time, although her big discovery was the tiny shower (a place to rinse feet, for those of us taller than an elf). One can only speculate about possible changes to her opinion of normal-sized showers.

    For a change of scene, we spent a couple of late-afternoon hours at Shoreline Park, stretched along the clifftop overlooking the ocean. You know you’re in an upscale park when people are grilling not hot dogs, but lobster. Speaking of lobster, you’d think by now I’d know enough to put on sunblock. Apparently I spent so much time worrying about whether I’d applied enough to Baguette that I neglected to remember that even the English think I’m pale. Now I have an odd assortment of gradated tan lines along my arms, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to peel soon.

    Fortunately for my sunburn, our last activity (on the way out of town) was the Santa Barbara Greek Festival in Oak Park. Oak Park is very shady, with lots of trees–it is aptly named. We thought the festival sounded like fun, and we were pretty sure Baguette would enjoy it. She loves music and dancing, and we were pretty sure a Greek festival would offer her that entertainment. And indeed it did! She just has no idea she was there, because she fell asleep and stayed out the entire time we were there. But while she missed the festival, she also stayed asleep for nearly the entire drive home. And much as we enjoyed our vacation, it is good to be home.