Kids in the kitchen

Our Rice Krispie
castle to "help us
learn about castles!"

With temperatures in the single digits and the pandemic still very much present, we've been spending a lot of time in the kitchen nowadays. Sometimes I think I should just move in. But we've also made a lot of amazing food, which brings me to the topic of kids in the kitchen.

I first started cooking with Kalina by my side when I found myself ending up cooking often (3-7 times per day) and always with Kalina, well, by my side. Because she never left. In fact, once I even started writing in my head a cookbook of recipes you could easily complete with a baby in a front carrier, without injuring the baby (it had one recipe: PBJ). 

So Kalina spent many meals riding on my hip, as did her sisters. As soon as she was steady enough, I pulled up chair, barricaded it with other chairs, and stood her on it so she could "help," hovering over her lest squeeze herself through the small gaps and tumble off. And help she did! I'm pretty sure she could break and egg and measure baking soda accurately at 2 or 3, as could the others.

Of course, that's not the full story. Most of the early days of cooking with kids including watching them like a hawk as they spill an unknown and unmeasurable fraction of the baking soda on the counter, wiping up and recalculating after they break eggs half in the bowl and half out, and bringing out the broom at least once or twice, and often the vacuum.

So cold our bubbles flattened!

Which naturally generated some stealthy behavior on my part. The challenge, on occasion: to throw together something without the toddler at the time seeing--because sometimes I didn't have an hour and a half to make a batch of cookies. Once I nearly succeeded in making an entire batch of pancakes in blissful ease all by myself, only to be sabotaged when I was nearly finished. "I want to help!" -Elise. No biggie--the 2-year-old can certainly stir a batch of pancakes, right? Not without pulling the bowl off the counter and all over herself and the chair, she can't! Fortunately (for me, anyway), Matt walked in the door from work shortly afterward and was able to supervise a quick bath while I whipped up another fancy breakfast-for-dinner meal. Look at me go!

It didn't take the girls long to learn that baking = chocolate chips about 90% of the time. They quickly learned to love baking, and all the little tastes that go along with it. Still. Still the tastes. 

By age 5, Elise was creating her own cupcake recipes that we all somehow pretended to like (maybe we only liked the frosting?). First, she added too much milk and salt to the flour concoction. They took 30 minutes to "bake" (read: cook off all the liquid) and the texture was...less than cakey. But with enough butterscotch chips and apple chunks, paired with the frosting, they were tolerable. Next, too much egg. Matt "saved his for later" and "gave the rest to Grandpa," while I consumed some, hid the rest, and made sure Kalina's helping was 2/3 frosting so she could get it down without making any of the obvious comments. Then we adventured into such "extras" as baking soda and vanilla, and reasonable amounts of sugar and salt, which helped. By age 8 or 9, the cupcakes were quite tolerable, and at 10, she discovered the merits of lemon peel added to her "chocolate bite" cupcakes, which seems to have completed the recipe. She's even handed it out.

Naomi has been
sewing felt
animals completely
on her own! (The
purple puppy is
not one of her
creations...)

Fast forward a decade, and everyone is helpful. Actually helpful, as long as I'm not in a hurry. They can chop with real knives. They can handle raw meat (if they're not too grossed out). Cookies are not a problem. And Elise is finally willing to cook with, and learn from, a cookbook. (She still firmly believes that a recipe doesn't really count unless you made it up yourself, though.)

Things that haven't changed: We still make a pretty big mess (granted, sometimes it's because our projects are bigger) that no one wants to clean up. However, while the broom always comes out, the vacuum and mop often get to stay put. Also, the tastes--they've gotten both sneakier and bolder.

I've also still retained some of the habits of panic-cooking that I gained over years of just waiting for some meltdown or catastrophe as the veggies are burning in the pan or my hands are covered with raw meat. Even now, I attack the meal. No relaxing music while I leisurely and lovingly put together dinner. Even though I almost probably could, since meltdowns are a bit rarer (or at least different) nowadays, if I weren't simultaneously teaching pre-algebra, accompanying voice practice and guessing the answers to strange riddles.

I do, however, summon my patience, still, to let the girls help nearly as often as they want. Even if it means dinner will be 15 minutes late due to beginner carrot-chopping or biscuit-making. It's literally all I can do not to shove the child out of the way and take over, and I probably have once or twice over the years, but this is one of the ways in which being a parent grows you. Sometimes I even keep my voice patient as I say, soothingly (I hope), "I'm trying really hard to get this in the oven fast, Sweetie! So let's focus and get 'er done! Thanks for your 'help!'" Sometimes I hope they can't audibly hear the quotations around "help."

As Kalina has grown, she's enjoyed making meringues, deviled eggs, guacamole, and honestly anything that's a little bit "fancy." Her cookies will all be evenly shaped and beautifully decorated, and anything that's hand-shaped will look uniformly neat and tidy. But she's also good with chopping up veggies when called on for a special project, and enjoys peeling onions and garlic. She also made up a sandwich-themed PBJ casserole one evening, and has plans to make some more (ham and cheese, BLT, etc.).

When asked on a random night if she'd like to help with dinner, though, she'd rather read 90% of the time.

Unless, of course, we're making something exciting--like world cuisine. Every February we cook delicious Russian food, to go along with the frigid weather, and this February I think we outdid ourselves. 

Pelmini and borscht! So
yummy!

We always make borscht, pelmini, and blini, and this year added in piroshki, which were a bit high-maintenance, but super popular. Elise has been trying so hard to like pelmini, and found she finally did this year! She also almost likes borscht--enough to fix herself a nice bowlful, and eat a few bites. Kalina enjoys it all, as long as there are plenty of potatoes in the borscht. Naomi likes anything bready and fruity. Truly we're ready to open a Russian restaurant because it's all so yummy, and not too hard with the fact that the girls are usually actual helpers, and not the "wink-wink, nod-nod" types of helpers, unless of course I'm in a hurry.

Doesn't she look like
someone out of a
Beatrix Potter book?

Naomi in the kitchen is a bit of a different matter because she's in this easily grossed out phase (it's been a long one and a doozy) and won't touch anything that has even touched meat, or even sat on the same cutting board, even if the meat has been cooked. She also won't touch veggies that she doesn't eat (so, most of them). She won't help make anything she doesn't want to eat, except under duress, and wants to add chocolate chips to everything (don't we all?).Other than that, she's a great kitchen helper! She'll always have plenty of baked goods to eat.

The kittens are clearly
ready for warmer
weather!

What Naomi does like is to break eggs, and then let the slime drizzle through her fingers before submerging her whole hand and playing with the yolk. That's what she likes to do, but only manages to when I don't catch her at it. Potatoes? Disgusting. Raw egg up to her wrist? Sign her up!

And finally, possibly the best thing about kids in the kitchen, other than all the fun projects we take on, and the companionship, is the fact that at lunchtime I can say, "Go make lunch," and they can each pull together something reasonable and balanced efficiently and with hardly any help. Elise goes for grilled cheese, Kalina might boil herself an egg or pasta, or make some guac if there's an avocado, and Naomi instantly thinks bread and jam (to which I usually make her add peanut butter). And while they think that means they could totally survive on their own, at least I know it's a step in the right direction. 

Rebranding picky eating

She actually ate a bug!!! Naomi did!!!

 I'm not sure any of us actually remember our first bite of chocolate (or potato chip, or whatever our weakness is). But we sure know when we're hooked.

Kalina and a box turtle we
caught. The turtle liked
strawberries and was named
Banana Bump.

And so, ever since Kalina was first dining on solids, it's been my goal to try not to hook my kids on junk--too much, anyway. It's my gift to them. 

The gift they'd prefer: an all-access pass to the chocolate stash they:

1. Know I have, and usually even its location

2. Can virtually never catch me at

3. Smell on my breath once in a great while ("Mommy, why do you smell like chocolate?" Me: "Mommies often do.")

4. Know they must never, ever mention, from experience

And it's not hypocritical, because I only want the best for them. Don't worry about me, my chocolate and I will be just fine together.

So while other toddlers relished Goldfish crackers, Teddy Grahams, Veggie Straws, and other snacky non-foods in their no-spill snack cups, young Kalina fished out cold, limp steamed broccoli, chopped chicken and her favorite--cold buttered lima beans. Plus the occasional sliced grapes or Cheerios. It just made sense to me, and she didn't complain.

All ice cream, all the time!!
At least, that's how it should
be!

Gradually, though, as Kalina's tastes matured (and honestly, I'd be worried if she still liked cold, limp broccoli--although she does still dive into a pile of lima beans with relish), Goldfish admittedly became a staple. They still are. Even Matt commented the other day on how tasty those little fish are, and chili just isn't the same without them.

Once we'd passed the snack-cup-full-of-veggies stage, though, Kalina's older-toddler pickiness lasted for, um, quite a while.  In fact, while her appetite has picked up and she has her moments of trying new things and liking them (spinach and onion quiche, for instance, and borscht) she often avoids meat and veggies like she's been doing it all her life. Which she practically has.

We like suckers so much, we
tape them on! Convenience
food!

Elise, on the other hand, spent years as a virtual fruititarian. Yet now she's the most likely to try, and the most likely to try to like, new foods, even though that usually translates merely into two bites instead of one. For example, I once gave toddler Elise a piece of raw onion I was chopping up, and she came back for more. Tonight: "I bet I'll try pickled watermelon rind someday." And she'll happily and adventurously eat various pickled fish out of a can with Matt (so will Kalina, sometimes). Despite her good intentions, however, the fruit and bread vanish quickly off her plate, leaving her shivering, neglected pork chop and green beans behind. 

Naomi was the baby who could separate diced tomato from diced strawberry (even the inner, seedless parts of the strawberry!!) before she turned 1--and of course, ate only the strawberry, leaving the tomato in a neat little pile. 

Here's the pack of bugs!
She declined a cricket,
but Matt ate one.

And yet, this relentless avoider of foods recently tried chocolate-covered insect larvae thanks to a bug class she's taking, and is now asking to test "sea urchin meat," even though she's "a little scared," and she'd like to have a rock to break it open sea-otter style. Next time we're in Malaysia, or wherever they eat that, we'll certainly try to make it happen.

Rice, though--she couldn't possibly try. And definitely not chicken unless it's coated in whatever McDonald's uses as a bribe. Pasta? Only on full moons in February--but she does eat about the equivalent of a helping a year. Oranges only sell in October since we haven't had them since last October. And most normal dinners? Most nights she'll permit a small portion to live on her plate, as long as she doesn't have to touch it.

All this to say, my kids are picky, but there are glimpses of hope.

Sometimes I don't realize how picky they are until a whole class of kids cheers at the mention of Chipotle, while Kalina shrugs. Amazingly delicious burrito? No, thank-you. Hmmm. Reality check--are they even pickier than I thought?!?

But I have to survive somehow, so lately, instead of my usual gentle pushing that masks the freaking out that's going on in my head ("It's chicken noodle soup! How can you not like this most benign of all foods!!! Everyone else in the whole world loves it!!!"), I reframe the whole thing. Because isn't taste, like sight and hearing, a sense? And don't we praise artists and musicians for their discriminating taste? Isn't this how master chefs get started?

Picky eating rebranded:

Isn't it amazing how my child can sense the slightest change in taco seasoning? And pick out every single piece of chopped black bean? How incredibly tuned in she must be!

Elise told me she would've
been okay with constructive
criticism on her original
cupcake recipe. She admitted
she "didn't like them that
much." She agrees that
recipe 3.0 is quite a
bit better.

My child can identify the absolute perfect range of ripeness in a banana--no brown, and if anything a touch green. She could do it with her eyes closed.

The spices and seasonings in this dish overwhelm their ultra-sensitive taste receptors! Talk about astute!!!

She's discovered that the ideal combination is smooth and strawberry. Everything else simply insults her senses!

They can all taste green vegetables' subtle bitterness--only a select few can detect these notes!

We would rather be food
than eat real food!

It takes truly sensitive taste to distinguish between homemade mac and cheese with the exact right amount of cheese, and homemade mac and cheese with slightly less cheese! And two out of three noticed it! Truly astonishing how perceptive they are!

The children prefer fruit that's at the peak of ripeness--they can detect subtle notes of differences that most people simply ignore!

A relatively clean plate, but
look at that eye-roll!

Only the most delicate meats will do--no true gourmand puts up with chewiness, after all!

Naturally, milk that sits in a cup in the fridge can accumulate other flavors. Most kids don't notice this, but mine are so astute, they simply can't stand anything less than fresh-from-the-jug milk!

******

I could go on. But really, there's got to be some talent here right?? Can I at least brag on Facebook?

Made from scratch, by Elise

Elise has long been interested in chemistry. To her, this chiefly consists of mixing things--baking soda, vinegar, food coloring, you name it.

Lately, however, she's combined this hobby with two others: treats and rock climbing, so that at any point when I come into the kitchen I might find her perched busily on top of the counter, reaching for the marshmallows so she can add them to a milky, floury, sugary concoction in a bowl next to her. A sprinkle of Cheerio dust, a pinch of salt and a good mix later, and we have the makings for a cake! Dessert for tonight!

How does Elise create her confections? First, she thinks of a few key ingredients: oats, flour, sugar and milk are staples, as well as candy hearts left over from Valentine's Day, chocolate chips and marshmallows. Usually she likes to add some kind of fruit as well, and perhaps a drizzling of honey.

Then, she makes a recipe card out of construction paper and writes her ingredients and any other instructions. She notes common measurements she's seen me use, and writes down a baking temperature of 350, usually for about 12 minutes. For example:

Mini Cupcakes (spelling all hers)
1 cup shoger
1 cup flawer
1/4 millk
1 cup chopped up strawberries
a drisling fo Hony

And frosting, of course.

I believe when we actually made this recipe, we cut the sugar and flour down to 1/4 cup, and we added a pinch of salt, 1/4 tsp. baking powder, marshmallows and maybe a little vanilla.

Here's another:

edible pond
food color
yogert blue
dip Bred in the yogert put karet cyons on the bred (karet cyons = carrot coins)

Elise has tucked these (and more!) away in my recipe box, and even at one point made her own recipe-writing desk out of a cardboard box. Kalina decorated the recipes, so they make a sweet little collection.

Fortunately for me, Elise, prepares all her recipes on her own, occasionally with help from Naomi or Kalina. Of course, I might need to reach eggs, help with spills, refill salt containers, find appropriately sized baking pans and measuring cups, put things into and pull things out of the oven (at 2-minute intervals so we can check to see if it's done), and myriad other insignificant tasks, but it's clearly Elise's project. I can just sit back and relax while dessert gets made! Elise has also been faithful about the other half of baking: cleanup. A couple reminders, and she's totally on it!

Really, the only tricky part it trying to figure out when the recipe is done baking, as many of Elise's creations fall into categories of their own (unleavened cupcakes, milk-cakes, strawberry-peanut butter fudgecakes, etc.). We seem to be successful every time, though, especially once the creations are cooled and drizzled with honey, sprinkled with more sugar or topped with frosting.

Elise added a box to her
scooter so she could deliver
treats to the neighbors. These
were standard chocolate chip
cookies made by Kalina that
were the best several of our
neighbors had ever eaten!

Of course, with Elise's generous nature, she's always willing to share. She made mini cupcakes for the kids up the street, and sent one home with Grandpa as well. So far, she's gotten rave reviews from everyone except Naomi, but we all know how picky Naomi is! Naomi even used to be afraid of ice cream, so of course she's only licking the frosting off a mini cupcake!

It's been wonderful seeing Elise put her kitchen knowledge to work, and without cookbooks, too! In fact, at the suggestion that she could flip through our kids' cookbook, she said she preferred to come up with her own. I don't blame her--after all, most of the cookbook recipes are a bit low on marshmallows.

Thanks, Elise, for being a treat to watch, as well as making us some lovely treats!

Also, we're out of sugar.

Triple firsts

Nummy bananas. Naomi
can't get enough, so she
figured she'd help.

Naomi is happy to announce that she likes bananas! And avocados! And oatmeal! But applesauce is a bit tart, and barley is just weird (not to mention an unhelpful texture that might work better at a later time). That's right: this week, Naomi officially sampled her first, although I had let her suck on not-too-ripe banana and washed lettuce stems, at her particular request, a bit earlier. She likes food, and in fact, has started to get annoyed if she's not offered any--especially lettuce, which is just so green and neat-looking.

We began on Wednesday, with mashed banana, a cute bib, a pink spoon and a camera. The big sisters, who had been eager for the baby to eat "mushed-up food" for a good year now, made for an enthusiastic and even helpful audience. Having sucked on a banana before, Naomi took to the taste immediately, even though it was mixed with a bit of formula. She sucked on the spoon and even managed to swallow quite a bit, adeptly spitting out any chunks I hadn't mashed quite as well.

The baby ate most of what I had to offer, letting me know she was done by screaming to get out of her chair (fortunately, at our second encounter with food she simply turned away). Loud and clear.

With each new food she's tried, the first few bites, at least, garnered a face that suspiciously said, "What in the world is going into my mouth?!?" Meh. Meh. And I'd wonder if bananas would be it for a while, But as long as the texture was super-watery, she'd keep going after the initial adjustment.

Naomi seems to want to eat more, so we'll be adding a second daily meal sooner rather than later. Any guesses on whether it'll help her sleep better at night, as the old wives say? I think no.
____

Build-A-Bear and Build-A-Pup! Elise
wore her puppy outfit to match.

I fully realize that "First Build-A-Bear" should most definitely not be a milestone. And it won't go in the baby book. But it was still a pretty big experience for Elise.

You may remember that we last experienced Build-A-Bear three years ago, as a Big Sister thing for Kalina. I'm not quite sure how we avoided making another animal in the meantime (unless you count the one for Aunt Nancy...), seeing how it's directly up our alley, but we did. Now that I mention it, that might be one of my proudest parenting accomplishments!

Kalina was more than happy to introduce Elise to the wonders of Build-A-Bear. I announced our plan the day before, and Kalina dug out her old B.A.B. cat and got her freshened up to meet a new friend.

Upon entering the store, Elise immediately became overwhelmed. So many people, so much glitter, and so many choices! Such expensive taste. I somehow managed to steer her past the My Little Ponies and Disney cats to the section of affordable animals. I'd prepped them for this a dozen different ways: "Now, what happens if the one you love costs $25?" "We can't get it." "Are you okay with any animal they have, or do you have to have a kitten?" "Okay with anything," they both assured me. That's the challenge of B.A.B.--getting out of there with all four limbs, and with no major arguments in the meantime. ("No, you may not get the stuffed car. [Don't be ridiculous, are you out of your mind?!?]")

Kalina, to her credit, contentedly bypassed the adorable multicolor bears she was initially attracted to. "We can't get these, Elise, they're too expensive," she said, not me. I could've bought her one then and there for her super attitude, but she happily settled on a more reasonable soft, pink bear with a heart for a nose. Elise wanted a puppy, but the Reasonably Priced Puppy was "too dark." I couldn't blame her--I wished they'd lightened it a shade. Finally we agreed on a lighter one that was super fuzzy, and probably a bit pricier than I'd planned. B.A.B: 1, Me: 1.

The three girls in the same rocking
chair their mommy was rocked in.

The girls grabbed at outfits with both paws as we waited in line to stuff the bears. And then it was our turn! Elise was assertive enough to answer all the questions herself, spell her own name, and even mention to the associate that she wanted her puppy to be "softer." (So was Kalina.) Soon, both animals were stuffed to perfection, and we turned our attention to outfits in earnest.

Elise liked anything with sparkles, and we found a sweet, glittery dress with a lollipop accessory and lollipop-shaped wings. We dressed her puppy, and then Elise stood clutching Pink Bear and the pup and taking in the scene. While Elise makes up her mind quickly and sticks her landing, Kalina likes to hem and haw. Fortunately, her mommy does, too--to a point. Kalina wanted a winter outfit that matched Gray's, but there were none to be had in the store. We found a cute substitute.

I considered letting them pick out cute bows as accessories. I then mentally nixed the idea: we have hair do-dads at home. And then they received free little bows at the register, along with the famous, bulky box homes! Fabulous! I forgave B.A.B. for at least one arm that they'd charged me. Then we created birth certificates. Elise's creation was named Licky Lick Lick, possibly changed to the Poky Little Puppy after she noticed some resemblance today during storytime later in the day. Kalina named her bear Rebecca.

Back at home, Elise has happily dressed and undressed her puppy several times already; fed her carrots with cinnamon on top in the play high chair for one meal and crocheted pizza, milk and banana for another;  provided birthday cake (it is, after all, the dog's birthday); and put her into and out of her house a dozen times. Kalina's armful of stuffed animals has happily expanded as she works her hardest to make sure Rebecca feels welcome, quietly talking to her about what to expect as a stuffed animal of the household. Thank you, Build-A-Bear! And Daddy...
______

Little girl at a big piano.

Kalina performed in her first piano recital! Held at her teacher's house, it was the perfect mix of casual and "real," and enjoyable for all, except, possibly, Elise, who caught wind of the treat table right behind her seat and couldn't wait for the music to be over. Naomi, for her part, didn't make a peep in the mei tai.

Kalina has been working hard since June and has been described by her teacher as quite talented. Her attention span, coordination, good attitude (even when she wanted to quit) and mental capacity have helped her breeze through various challenges, surprising us all. And with that, I'll be done bragging. She no longer wants to quit, by the way.

She chose her own program based on a theme: horse, and horse-like animals, and those who ride them. She practiced her pieces, Cowboy Joe, Rodeo and Donkeys Like Carrots, daily, and couldn't claim to be more than a little bit nervous as the day approached. The performers all sat cross-legged on the floor for lack of chairs, and volunteered to play when they were ready. Kalina, the youngest by two years, managed to be the very last.

She confidently answered her teacher's questions for the audience, and sat down to play. Her pieces couldn't have gone better, and since she's only five and hasn't quite moved on to Beethoven, her performance was quickly over. Soon, she was happily savoring a lemon bar while Elise devoured as many treats as she could grab.

_______

Naomi enjoying the soft puppy her
sisters picked for her before she was
born.

Naomi also had her 6-month checkup! She's growing at a consistent rate: she's 13 lbs. 8 oz. (in the 7.41%), and 25.5 inches long (34%). Apparently, she allotted most of her milk to height these past two months. She received her shots, but was smiling again by the time we checked out, having been more concerned about the fact that total strangers were poking and prodding her.

I bemoaned her horrible, awful sleep (I keep saying it can't get worse, and it always does--so I will not say that anymore), and the doctor reassured me that a bit of cry-it-out will not only help, but not hurt.

Big sisters, under strict instructions to wait patiently and not mess around, actually waited patiently and didn't mess around. Plus, they made a new friend in the waiting room who was a little too fond of Naomi for someone who'd been wheezing (according to her grandma). Aaargh! Fortunately, I was able to whisk Naomi to safety, my height being an advantage over the 4-year-old's.

On the way home, I remembered that Naomi could now have ibuprofen! With a cheerful, mellow baby, two well-behaving big girls and a husband who wanted pizza ingredients if I happened to be out, I decided that it'd be worth it to risk a trip to Target. My efforts paid off--not only did no one cry, but Naomi was fussy the rest of the day and night and the next day, so I was grateful for our infant Advil.

For the record, no, I can't believe she's halfway to 1. The part of me that's not utterly spent wants her to slow down!

Adventures with Two: What's cooking?

Valentine's sweeties and their
balloons! Which are named
Valentine, and Valentine's
Day, respectively.

I remember before Elise was born (so many of my blogs start this way), I  wondered how, in the world, I would cook dinner. Sometimes I still wonder this. I did discover that it's possible:

Month 1: The world cooks for you. Friends and family deliver delicious meals to your door, and when they don't, restaurants do. 

Month 2: From the freezer to the oven, and sometimes back again.

Month 3-6: Reality hits. There will be no more "free meals." Fortunately, the baby naps a lot and the older child sees cooking as quality time, so food lands on the table somehow.

Months 6-9: You never stop cooking. The baby needs special food, the older child sometimes needs special food to feel special, too, and dinner still needs to be made ready. However, in this golden age of child-rearing, the baby is often happy on the floor for full minutes at a time, but can't yet crawl fast enough to be a problem.

Months 9-15 1/2: Dinner gets cooked in 30-second increments for a whole variety of reasons.

Month 16: The baby decides she wants to be involved in the dinner-cooking process, and simply can't be held off or distracted any longer.

Whew, thank goodness the girls are both old enough to help! After all, both can stand on a chair, sometimes without pushing each other off, and "measure," and "pour," and "mix"--what more do I need? With double the help around the kitchen, meals will be whipped up twice as easy, and twice as fast! Twice as delicious, too! Right?

So why do Matt and I both cringe inwardly at times when we're about to embark on making pizza crust or beef stew and we hear, "I want to help!" followed quickly by, "Ooh! Oooh! Ooohh!" as both girls race to drag over the stained chair I've designated as the cooking stool and clamber up before I can say "sharp knives, hot pans and raw meat?"

All of a sudden, our task changes from just throwing the ingredients together to making sure Elise doesn't fall off the chair (which she would, every single time, if we weren't so vigilant), helping Kalina help us measure and dump (which she's actually quite good at), or pushing dangerous or messy items far out of reach from Elise's grabbers. Our actual dinner becomes an afterthought.

Because what parent says, "No, you may not help make dinner?" Despite our inward groans, we try our best to pipe up, "It'd be wonderful to have some help!" Because it really would, and the girls are cute.

Elise's first pan of brownies is in the oven!

With the addition of a toddler to our meal preparation task force, Kalina feels shoved aside (literally and figuratively) and I feel flustered, but Elise couldn't possibly be prouder of her new status as "kitchen help." The ecstatic toddler debuted on a pan of brownies.

Elise is every bit as eager of a baker/cook as her older sister, albeit a little less precise at the moment. Whereas Kalina can break an egg for me (I still open it up to spill the contents, though), accurately measure ingredients, and be trusted not to dump the mixing bowl's contents onto the counter, Elise is far too willing to try her own hand at these tasks than my comfort level would generally allow, and has caught on to our general methods with remarkable speed. We've reached a tenuous agreement where she can play with the measuring cups and spoons not in use, and occasionally dig in flour or sugar with them. She's negotiating hard for the eggs, but I won't give in.

Although Kalina, by virtue of her more advanced age, is currently more adept in the kitchen than Elise, she, too, is still learning the ropes. This week alone, in fact, she's discovered that when she turns the mixer onto a high speed when Mommy's not looking, the top inch of contents gets flung onto the counter top--and any animals who happen to be sitting there to watch. She's also learned the "glob" method of frosting cupcakes (a big glob here, another big glob there, a few Christmas tree sprinkles, and voila! A Valentine's cupcake!). We clean up a few extra messes, guesstimate baking powder on occasion and sometimes send an armful of stuffed animals through the washing machine--and not just because they enjoy the ride. We've decided that when she's four, she can crack open an egg all by herself, and by the time she's five we're both sure she'll be making cookies with virtually no help. Oh, the parties she'll have. 

Of course, there are times when Mommy really does have to fry up some pork chops and chop up some veggies by herself. And at these times, I wonder why we can't all have dinner at around 9:00 a.m., when the kids are relatively cheerful rather than just on the other side of the 5 a.m. meltdown/minor injury hour. Some days we simply muddle through dinner preparation, calming hysterics even while salting steamed green beans.

And fortunately, that which has provided an endless parade of ups and downs in its preparation also smooths all ailments. Dinner, for all of its hassle, finally comes to everyone's rescue in the end. 

Yummy, delicious sleep

When a baby enters the world, she has four basic needs:

1.) Food

2.) Sleep

3.) Cuddling
4.) Lots of cute outfits and soft toys

The baby will continue to need these things her entire life, although they will change in substance as she grows and matures. For instance, in the future, the only milk Elise drinks may be in her double mocha espresso, with extra whipped cream. One day, she may be shutting out her light for the night mere hours before nowadays she's waking up. The family dog will likely get more hugs from her than I will, and her closet may at some point contain no pink whatsoever. Only time will tell.

In fact, this weekend it became apparent that Elise was ready to make a few shifts in several of these areas. Or, at least, we were ready for her to.

To our dismay, Matt and I had noticed a strikingly downward trend in Elise's overnight sleep. Hunger called at every hour, it seemed, and we were both exhausted. Especially me, as feeding the baby in a cold recliner at all hours is much less cozy than just going back to sleep in a soft, warm bed. (Although I recognize that Daddy's several screamy pacifier attempts were no fun, either.)

Most professional sources will tell you that solid food has nothing to do with a baby's sleep patterns, but every time I face extra night feedings, I disagree, desperate for any kind of "fix." That, and some new findings suggesting that early exposure to foods may help ward off allergies convinced me that 5 months was a great time to start Elise on solids. (She also responded favorably when I let her lick a banana I was eating a few days ago.)

Accordingly, I set up Elise's high chair (which Kalina gleefully noted is right next to her booster seat), mashed up a banana and carefully mixed up some free-sample formula to swirl in with the banana. I also found a fresh, new bib (none of Kalina's crusty hand-me-downs for Elise's first meal!) and chose a cute purple spoon. All set.

I did not let Kalina feed Elise, despite the older girl's request. I wanted to make sure things would go smoothly first.

With Daddy snapping away on the camera, I pulled Elise's mouth away from the high chair strap she was gnawing and set a bite of mushy banana on her tongue.

And I have never seen anyone make such a sad look of disgust as my baby did at that moment.

Seriously, child? You don't like banana? That's as good as it's going to get for a while, I'm afraid. You can have cake on your first birthday.

I tried again with an even squishier bite. Maybe she just didn't like the texture. Nope--the same look. And again--sometimes you have to try a food 10 times before the baby knows whether or not she likes it. Same result.

And that was the end of Elise's first feeding. In her defense, she was rather tired at the time.

I did, of course, try again this morning. I skipped the formula (it didn't mix well anyway) and put a miniature bite of banana on Elise's tongue. Utter disgust.

But...by about the 6th bite of banana, the baby only seemed a bit confused on what to do with the stuff (am I supposed to hold it in my mouth, send it down, or push it out?). And after that, she seemed to begin catch on to the whole concept, almost eating about 3 more bites before losing interest.

I think I'm glad we're starting relatively early. At this rate, Elise may be ready for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich by the time she's packing a lunch for kindergarten.

Along with "big-girl food," as well told Kalina, it was time for Elise to embark on the first steps of "big-girl sleep." Essentially, sleep without the pacifier and swaddle (which she has been struggling out of some nights, anyway, raising plenty of worried eyebrows in our household). This would not be easy for any of us, I imagined.

The first night was rough for a while, and then Elise learned to suck her thumb and we've all had a lot more sleep since then. The end.

Epilogue:

Elise now talks to herself a bit and then just fusses just a bit each night before she falls asleep, thumb in mouth, I assume. She still wakes up once or twice to eat, plus once or twice to settle herself, which has never taken too long and is sometimes instantaneous and always gets some reassurance from Daddy if needed. Tiring? Not at all, compared to previous nights when she had to be settled 10+ times.

After a particularly disastrous nap, we've decided to allow Elise the swaddle and paci for naptimes and hope it doesn't confuse her. So far, it hasn't.

Mommy reports getting 7 hours of sleep total last night, and Daddy may have gotten a nice 5-hour stretch, and then some. Everyone slept until 7:00 this morning. And they lived happily ever after, or at least until the next sleep crisis.

Photos:

1. I just love baby profiles. Don't you? (And I'm letting Elise play with one of Kalina's toys during Kalina's one nap of the week--don't tell Kalina or she'll never nap again!)

2. The highchair strap tastes better than banana.

3. Giving it her best shot.

4. A mere shadow of Elise's look of disgust. Note that she prefers wearing the food on her chin to eating it.

Mommy worry and solid food

When presented with the probability of becoming a mommy, no one plans to be the continually worrying type of one. We initially refuse to obsess about such mundane things as diapers and their content, strained peas or even ridiculously cute baby clothes. We steadfastly vow not to let the baby slow us down. We certainly won't fret about every little thing.

We tell our bachelor friends our plans, and they commend us. "Babies pretty much take care of themselves anyway," they remind us. "After all, what do they do except sleep and eat?" We take heart.

We tell our mommy friends our plans, and they smile and nod. "Sleep when the baby sleeps," they tell us more often than not. We laugh and say we're already sleeping terribly thanks to our giant tummies and tiny bladders and assure them it can't get any worse. They go home and get the last laugh in private so as not to hurt our feelings.

And then we're plunged into the thick of mommyhood with nothing but a sea of pain and hospital food to transition us. We're shown how to bathe a newborn and sent home with a small pamphlet on how to take care of a baby.

This is often the extent of our preparation for mommyhood.

We leaf through the pamphlet a week later and notice, to our shock and dismay, that Juniorette isn't following the carefully bulleted (but not proofread) guidelines. Now what?

And so the worry begins.

Eight months of intense sleep-deprivation later (that's right, Kalina has lapsed into her former ways of waking at least once during the night), and I'm a chronic mommy worrier. Can you blame me?

For instance, my day is now planned around whatever I think will make the baby sleep through the night. Having at least skimmed every mainstream book on baby sleep, I have a virtual checklist I go through each day, making sure she gets enough floor time, walking time, Mommy time, Daddy time, learning time, naps and quiet time. And heaven forbid she catnap between sleep periods in the carseat.

Really, it's a lot of pressure: one toy too many and the baby is too overstimulated to sleep through the night. One toy too few and she's not tired enough. Is it any wonder she wakes up? I never knew babies were so complex.

All while hearing over and over "there's not much you can do, really, but try these few things..."

Which brings me to my next point: there's the one thing that all the old wives swear will help Baby sleep through the night, that all the scientists say is hogwash: solid food.

Secretly, I believe the old wives. So when Kalina refuses to eat any solids, I understandably begin to worry. (Freak)

When we started Kalina on solids, she loved them. She'd eat anything we dished into her little mouth, even the occasional accidental cat hair. This continued for a blissful month or so.

Sometime after her half birthday, however, Kalina decided she was done with solid foods. "That was fun, guys," she seemed to say. "But really, haven't I had enough?" And she'd clamp her little lips tightly closed, turn her head and give us every sign in the world that she wasn't letting the spoon in.

I wouldn't have been so desperate to feed her had not the introduction of several rather large solid-food meals every day corresponded nicely with the advent of sleeping through the night--something she held to for almost two weeks before reverting in the worst way. The old wives chattered amongst themselves, and I couldn't help but overhear: could solid foods be the root issue?

But the books told me not to force the issue, and that it's fine if Kalina only eats a bite or two of solid food a day. Fine for who? I wanted to ask/scream. I would imagine that in order to write a book, the authors were getting somewhat more than a couple 1- to 2-hour stretches of sleep at night. Then again, these same books swear there's no correlation.

And so, like many desperate mommies across the centuries, I tried to force the issue. We pureed anything I could possibly puree. We tried finger foods. We tried adding cinnamon. We experimented with temperatures and consistencies. We tried eating while playing. We tried taking bites off of Mommy's banana. We almost tried cake, but my better sense got the best of me.

Kalina is a force to be reckoned with, however, and would still have none of it. Well, almost. She would happily eat the occasional large solid-food meal. For all I could figure out, the incidence of this is entirely, unnervingly random.

I discovered that when I pretended I didn't care whether she ate or not, sang to her or recited nursery rhymes or read to her in Spanish from the back of the Cheerios box throughout the meal, bribed her with Cheerios and spread a veritable feast of possible foods to try across the table, I could get the baby to eat a few extra bites. And so I did. Mealtime turned into a huge occasion--sometimes we even sent cards and exchanged gifts.

Then better sense got the best of me and I plunked her down at the table while Matt and I ate. That night she dined on chicken, peas, carrots, brown rice and cottage cheese. It worked!

The next day it didn't (nor did anything else). The day after that she happily ate a bowl of baby oatmeal with pureed banana.

And that brings us to this morning, and back to the original point: until all babies sleep peacefully through the night, eat everything we give them, poop uniformly, maintain a constant, safe body temperature and never topple over while learning new tricks, and never so much as get an itch in the middle of their back they can't scratch nor tell anyone about, there will be mommy worry.

Mush = joy

I'm now the proud owner of half a dozen little bowls with lids. I'm not sure it'll be enough. They make their way from the dishwasher to the cupboard to the fridge and back to the dishwasher at a maddening rate, hosting little piles of colored-yet-brownish mush.

No, it's not another one of Matt's weird pet food systems, it's Kalina's food. We water down the mush and plop it into her mouth twice a day now. Then we mush up more things to make more mush. Mush mush mush.

And yet...

I love the mush. I love making it, and I love feeding it to her. I love planning what flavors of mush she'll have next. I love it when she seems to like it, even after questioning it with her famous furrowed brow. I love discussing the mush with others. "What kinds of mush do you feed your baby?" "The tan kind." "Me too!!!"

I'm making all the baby's solid food nowadays and am fascinated by it. Who would've thought you can use an ordinary blender, pot and stove to make food for the baby? Crazy!! Then you can freeze it in ice-cube trays and you have mush ready-made for weeks to come! Is there anything better? Yes, I'm quite the nerd.

But the fun doesn't end once the mush is made. I then get to watch as in some fantastic way, perhaps by swallowing and perhaps through absorption, Kalina makes the mush disappear. She's becoming quite the little couch potato, too, watching some entertaining show the cats put on for her while absentmindedly opening her mouth for more mush. I shovel it in like m&ms during a chick flick.

I'm not sure what Kalina's favorite is (orange-colored mush, perhaps), but mine is brown rice mush. Get this: you can grind rice in a blender! Simply add the powder to some boiling water and voila! Mush for the baby! Mix a little banana mush into the rice mush and Kalina will eat it right up.

Heck, I'll eat it right up. I licked the spoon and it's not half bad. I will admit that I briefly planned to make it for dinner. After all, wouldn't it be fun if we all three ate the same thing? We could then have green mush for dessert.

Like probably every mom in the history of the world, I feed Kalina better than I myself eat. And I will do so as long as I can keep up the charade. I will bake wholesome bran muffins for Kalina, all the while sneaking a couple double-chocolate, chocolate-chip "muffins" (read: cake) into the pan for myself. With any luck, they'll blend in. And if you see a new painting hanging conveniently in the kitchen, it's only because there's a safe behind it hiding a stash of cookies or chocolate for me. It's really the only way.

Kalina is eating two mush meals per day, and will continue to eat true mush for at least another month or so, at which time she will graduate to squishy food. Does life get any better?

Photo: A rare smile during a marathon picture-taking session at Grandpa and Grandma's house.

Into the baby's mouth

Matt commented recently that feeding the baby is like playing that dumb game we all loved as kids: mix weird things from the refrigerator together and dare each other to take a swig. The game had many variations, but usually involved ketchup, a younger sibling/neighborhood kid and lots of laughter. Whether the laughter was mean-spirited or not depends on how willing the victim was and the techniques plotted to get the victim to drink the stuff (which could be as varied as the ingredients).

Those were the days.

But I digress. Matt was referring to the fact that Kalina's meals are rather complex and disgusting-looking, despite her young palate. First comes the main food (banana, avocado or rice cereal), which I puree. Then I separately mix formula with water, adding that concoction to the main food. And I top the whole thing off with a little prune juice for good measure. Finally, I fine-tune the meal, making sure it's the right consistency by adding more formula, rice cereal or a little water. Then the baby eats it and we all have a good laugh.

Kalina and I got Matt to taste it once, too. Does this mean I win?

Being a baby, however, Kalina puts much more than just food into her mouth. In fact, like most babies, "mouthing" an object is one of the main ways she learns. The other two ways are by simply touching an object or by grabbing it and shaking it as hard as she possibly can (bonus if she has an object for each hand to shake).

Shaking, by the way, is especially preferred by her if the object is a rattle because the forceful noise makes for an excellent way to protest anything Mommy is trying to accomplish. "Absolutely NO more naps!" she shouts with the help of her rattle. It's really quite effective--I now think twice about every action affecting the baby.

We don't know how she determines which things are shake-worthy, mouth-worthy or hand-worthy, but she seems to have a good system (she doesn't try to shake the kitchen table, for instance).

The relatively recent mouthing phase has brought with it a new philosophical question: what's okay and what's not? There are several main categories of okay-ness, including:

Category A: The safe-as-it's-going-to-get group. This includes all age-appropriate baby toys that have been carefully washed. They are likely neither germy nor sharp nor choking hazards. This is the smallest category, as well as the least desirable to Kalina.

Category B: The "looks fine to me!" group. Included in this thriving group are blunt household objects that don't appear to be dirty and aren't obviously choking hazards. They must be things we don't mind her wrecking, if it comes to that.

Category C: The "it's okay as long as I monitor her at all times" group. Plastic bags, magazines, cats and the Christmas tree belong here. Either they could hurt the baby or she could hurt them, but it's fine because I'm there to supervise. This is the most popular category with Kalina.

Category D: The off-limits group. Matt would have this category be a lot larger than it is. And truthfully, nothing about me likes the idea of mouthing as a way to learn (personally, I learn better by reading or hearing). So I take my cues from my mom friends--if they let their babies stick it in their mouths, I will, too. If not, it belongs in this category. Hopefully this pattern of peer pressure won't continue or Kalina may be jumping off a lot of cliffs as she grows up (whichever ones her friends choose to, anyway).

Because of the number and variety of objects that make their way into Kalina's mouth as she learns about them, we have more evidence that she will be a super-genius when she grows up. Then again, would a super-genius really eat mashed avocado mixed with prune juice?

A weekend for the baby book: a bountiful post

What a weekend! Kalina is beat. A lot happened in her cute little life. (Of course, she's not quite tired enough to have slept at all well last night.)

Kalina kicked off the weekend on Wednesday night by celebrating her first Thanksgiving meal. Or rather, by enduring it. This little pilgrim was not happy with the fact that Mommy and Daddy had invited a couple of Indians over, nor with the fact that Mommy and Daddy had to carve turkey and make gravy rather than cater to her every whim. An early bedtime was the result while Mommy's meal--two days in the making--sat warming in the oven.

So we tried again the next day, with another Thanksgiving meal at the neighbors' house. What she liked: new surroundings, different toys, and babies to watch. What she didn't like: the Indians in that house. That's right, stranger anxiety is in full swing. Fortunately, she didn't have to persevere through another meal: she napped like an easy baby in her Pack and Play upstairs.

We concluded that Kalina doesn't make a very good pilgrim. She did, however, have a few things she's thankful for, including her new Bumper Jumper that we set up this weekend (and we wish we'd introduced 4 1/2 months ago). It allows her to stand like a big girl and turn around in a full circle so she can see everything that's going on. She loves it (standing is her favorite activity) but has yet to actually use it for any kind of jumping or bouncing as she's never actually cared that much about movement. She's also thankful for Daddy, who's more fun than Mommy and Mommy, who's more of a pushover than Daddy.

Appropriately, we started Kalina on solid food over Thanksgiving weekend. All the books and websites I read, all completely credible, told me that Kalina really doesn't need solid food until at least 6 months, unless she's ready earlier, and even then she might not, unless she's ready. And still she doesn't really need solids. But she might be ready to start them anytime after 4 months. Or not.

Now do you understand why this whole baby thing can be frustrating?

I decided that she's ready because:
1. She eats 9-10 times a day (most babies this age eat an easy 5-8)
2. She meets or exceeds pretty much all of the milestones listed in all of the trusted resources
3. She might be dropping the early evening nap and feeding her will keep her entertained for a good 20 minutes during that time, since by then Mommy has usually run out of ways to entertain the baby. Will this encourage bad habits? Only time will tell.

So the baby is now eating rice cereal mixed with formula once a day. It's strange stuff--very liquidy and gross smelling. I didn't try any, which probably makes me a bad mom. However, I didn't have any problems implying that I was feeding her gourmet food prepared specially by a French chef. I've heard that's a good idea if you want the baby to like the stuff, as apparently attitude is everything.

Fortunately, Matt was around to help us get started. Kalina resisted the high chair (she hates being restrained) and the bib (she hates having clothes put on), but Matt, being the fun parent, kept her relatively happy while I prepared the meal. He then began eating a bowl of cereal of his own because Kalina loves to watch us eat and we thought it might help.

I was warned by lots of sources that during the first couple of feedings Kalina would probably end up with more food on the outside than the inside. Always proving herself to be a bit different than most babies (at least in her adoring, yet ever-frustrated parents' opinions), Kalina in fact astounded us with how well she did. Has she been helping herself to midnight snacks all this time without us knowing?

Feeding the baby was highly entertaining at least for me. And judging by how well Kalina did, I'm guessing she was probably ready. Or at least ready-ish. Maybe she's getting ready to be ready?

Kalina also got her first Christmas tree! We chose a small one this year in honor of Kalina, who's still small herself. She likes to grab the branches in a death grip and not let go, which makes us wonder if she's capable of pulling the tree over.

Her reaction was fun. "Guys, in my albeit limited experience, trees belong outside. A houseplant may be more appropriate. However the thing looks kind of neat so I guess it can stay." She especially liked playing with the bead garland. A benefit of a small tree is that we have a strand of them left over she can play with all season.

And finally, as mentioned before, we think Kalina is done taking a third nap of the day. According to all our sources, she may or may not be ready to drop the nap. The sources, all of which are highly scientific and respected, also tell us that she needs either 12-14 hours of sleep a 24-hour day, or 14-15 and that either she may need 1-2 feedings per night up to 9 months, or that she could've been done with night feedings for the past month or more.

I'm sure you can tell by now that me and the experts are locked firmly in a love-hate relationship.

We think she's done with the third nap because she screams her head off when we put her down for it, and if she falls asleep before we rescue her, only sleeps for 30 minutes before waking up screaming. She's also been waking up at 5:25 every morning of this wonderful long weekend (which most of the books say is earlier than she should need to get up) and has had some trouble falling asleep for her other naps and bedtime.

However, we're still trying to determine for sure. According to the experts, she's either:
a. overtired from not getting enough sleep (she only gets about 13 hours)
b. annoyed we're trying to force so much unneeded sleep on her (she gets a healthy 13 hours)
c. it's just a phase
If a., we should put her down earlier for every nap and bedtime.
If b., we should skip the third nap entirely and put her down later for her other naps and bedtime.
If c., we do nothing, which is probably the most frustrating of all, so I'll rule it out
If we choose one of these and are wrong, the result will be a cranky baby that's hard to put to sleep. If we choose one and are right, the result should be a happy, well-rested baby that's a joy to be around.

Matt headed off to lab this morning where everything is straightforward and predictable. I'm staying home with our little experiment to try to make sense of anything I possibly can.

Kalina vs. the experts

Ever since Kalina's been born, we've been reading "How to raise a baby" books, all of them chock full of advice. We like to laugh at them together. Here are some of our reactions:

"Sleep when your baby sleeps."
Kalina: Hope my grunting doesn't keep you up.
Me: Seven 15-minute naps per day don't add up to any decent amount of sleep.

"In the first two weeks, your baby should eat at least every 2-3 hours. If your baby falls asleep, you can wake her by gently tickling her or touching her with a cold washcloth."
Kalina: I want to eat every 3 1/2 hours.
Me: The baby will only eat every 3 1/2 hours. We sprung eight rambunctious monkeys, a fire hose and a marching band on her and she remains unmoved and asleep.

"After the first two weeks, continue to feed your baby every 2-3 hours during the day."
Kalina: I changed my mind. Now I want to eat twice an hour.
Me: The baby will not stop eating. Is this payback for the rambunctious monkeys?

"Between the third and fourth months, your baby will lengthen the time between feedings."
Kalina: Yes, but I still reserve the right to eat absurdly often.
Me: The baby is now eating every hour and a half to two hours. Finally, some relief!

"Burp your baby at least once in the middle of a feeding."
Kalina: Interrupt a feeding? Don't even think about it. I'll burp when I want to.
Me: The baby is a really good burper.

"If your baby spits up a lot after feedings, keep her upright for at least 30 minutes."
Kalina: I'll find a way.
Me: Can I buy stock in Stain Stick?

"Between the third and fourth months, your baby will begin a sleep schedule, with 2-3 naps a day."
Kalina: I want five short naps. I will complain about each and every one, but I will complain more if I don't get them. Any deviations must be approved by me in advance.
Me: She's a good sleeper, but we can't leave the house.

"To calm your baby when she's crying, try putting her in her swing. The motion will calm her down"
Kalina: If you do, I'll just scream louder. I'll always make you regret putting me down when I'm unhappy.
Me: The baby sometimes seems to cry all day long.

"Babies are fascinated by their hands, as well as colorful objects."
Kalina: Only as a last resort.
Me: The baby is hard to entertain. Could that be because all of her toys look like they came from a pet store?

"To help your baby relax and get ready to sleep, use a bedtime routine, for instance, bath, change into pajamas, book, bed."
Kalina: Frankly, I don't think anything could prepare me for bedtime.
Me: I'm the only person on the planet who can get Kalina to fall asleep, even if she's not at all hungry. How could a bath help the situation?

"Make sure you give your baby plenty of tummy time every day. Don't do tummy time soon after meals, and if your baby fusses, turn her over so she doesn't learn to dislike tummy time."
Kalina: I've always hated tummy time.
Me: Based on the above requirements, there are only about 3 minutes a day that Kalina might possibly be content to do tummy time and not spit up. But we give it our best shot and promise to do better the next day.

And our personal favorite:
"Around this time, your baby will sleep longer and longer stretches at night. She may even start to sleep through the night!"
Kalina: No.
Me: Do we have a newborn? She wakes every 1 1/2 to 4 hours between 7:30 pm and 7:00 am. If this isn't a growth spurt, I'm going to cry.

You're all invited to a public book burning.

"I'm possibly the slightest bit hungry," and other loud screams

When assessing Kalina's vocal expressions of displeasure, Matt and I like to rank them on a scale of 1 to 5, not unlike the hurricane scale. Perhaps they are, therefore, more accurately referred to as squalls.

Level 1 crying is what you hear on TV. People without kids start to look concerned, whereas people who have small children barely raise their voices to continue their conversations. This crying will escalate within a minute, but is easily consoled by shifting the baby's position, offering a pacifier, burping her or feeding her.

Level 2 crying is like Level 1, but louder and Kalina's face starts to turn pinker than it already is. It's mildly annoying and we move fast to fix it lest she hold a grudge.

Level 3 crying is when things really start to get serious. Kalina's demands are obviously not being met and she's severely displeased. These are some of the loudest cries, and most disharmonious. They can cause hearing loss, and they make Kalina turn bright red like a sunburn. The good cat runs for cover and the bad one tries to nip Matt on the leg so he'll make it stop (I'm not kidding--she's never threatened the baby, only Matt).

Level 4 crying is truly a feat, because this is when she starts to scream without making any noise. At this point, friends without kids are politely excusing themselves to go home and friends with kids are mentally making notes to never let us babysit. Kalina is now purple.

Level 5 screaming involves sounds apparently only a baby can make. I tried, with no success. Some are almost like a fast clicking, others are Level 4 silent screams that are so intense they've added some noise back in. This type of crying takes at least 15 minutes to calm down from, and then we really have to take it easy the rest of the day (no carseats or onesie changes, for example).

Truthfully, though, Kalina is a benevolent dictator. She is very clear in her demands, as long as they're met immediately and entirely she's good-natured. This means occasionally Mommy gets to use the bathroom during the day and only has borderline carpal tunnel. Kalina's wishes are as follows, in this order:

1. Do I have the munchies? Could I possibly manage to eat a little something? If I'm busting at the seams,
2. Am I held upright, facing out, and is the person holding me walking around so I don't get bored? If I'm held by a human, positioned correctly and well entertained,
3. Do I need a pacifier, even if you have to hold it in the whole time because I only kind of want it and only part of the time? If I'm plugged,
4. Do we need to start counting some sheep (I think there are at least 38 in my nursery)? If I'm well rested,
5. Could I possibly be gassy? If my only bubbles are made of spit,
6. How long has it been since I've been held by my mommy? If I've had plenty of mommy time,
7. I'm not having my onesie changed or fresh out of the tub, am I? If so, make it stop immediately.

I do have a favorite cry. It's when she sticks out her bottom lip, pouts and kind of whimpers, and it, admittedly, makes me chuckle because it's so cute and I know nothing is really wrong. This doesn't even register on the cry scale, kind of like how a lawn sprinkler doesn't make national weather news or even get its own name. I certainly don't inflict anything on Kalina to produce this cry, but it might tempt me to linger a split second before calming her, just to watch. (Truthfully, the cry only lasts a split second before it escalates anyway; otherwise, I'd post a picture for you.)

Even though I often complain that Kalina is fussy and on the bad days nickname her Fusspot, she's really not that bad (once again, if her demands are met). I'd estimate she cries no more than a total of 15-20 minutes a day. The truth is, I might be the one more aptly described as fussy, because what I really mean is that I'm short on patience and was really hoping to be able to change out of my pajamas and perhaps eat lunch. The problem I face is that taking care of Kalina and taking care of myself are usually mutually exclusive, and doing something such as brushing my teeth breaks at least one of Kalina's cardinal rules. Sorry, Baby, but I really do tend to blame my trivial problems on you. Hence, Fusspot.

Whenever Kalina's screams reach a Level 3 or higher, Matt and I both have noticed we get a bit edgy. In fact, we've heard that recorded baby cries have been used as weapons during wartime. We wonder if the attackers even had to lift a finger to destroy their enemy or if, spurred by the horrid sounds, the defenders just gave up on themselves and each other.

Fortunately, we're not at the point of giving up. Just ranking.