Toyland

The only time I fired a gun was at Calvary Camp. It was 1998, and I had a huge crush on the counselor responsible for teaching a bunch of lazy campers the art of riflery. Like many others, I had opted to hang out on a grassy knoll in lieu of actually participating in the elective, but on day 5 of 5, my crush told me I needed to try hitting the target. So, I moseyed up to the gun, ready to make a bold, sharp-shooting impression, aimed and fired. Christmas Story style, the bullet ricocheted off something and hit my lip. I quietly sulked away from my station, drops of blood running down my chin, totally embarrassed and quite certain that my sandy haired instructor would find nothing sexy about my exhibition. I swore off guns then and there. The memory was too painful: unrequited love, facial scars, nothing good could come of them.

That is until I got engaged and both Bloomingdales and Williams Sonoma told me to pick up one of theirs and fire away. The ease with which I performed retail's version of target practice, knocking off Waterford, Versace, and Cristofle (oh my!) restored my faith and confidence in discharging.

When I was tasked with filling out a baby registry midway through my pregnancy though, I felt that I was weapon ready but entering a frontier that was completely unfamiliar. Inundated with suggestions, referrals, recommendations - brands that I had never heard of before - exhaustive lists of stuff that I 'needed' to care for my five pound infant - I spastically started hunting. 

I knocked off the necessities first: the stroller, car seat, high chair, bottles and bibs. I sorted by color, randomly selecting items that best went with my favorite outfits and my house's decor. What I found particularly mind boggling though were the number and variety of toys and contraptions for baby. How in the world could an infant, content playing in amniotic fluid for nine months need all this crap? I ended up shooting a couple things - items that were less of eye sores than others - and hoped for the best.

Now more than two months into motherhood, I have found that there are necessities; or at least items that can make your life a whole lot easier.

The Mamaroo. We didn't register for this, but it was a welcome surprise from friends at work. It vibrates, it rocks, it swings, it totally mesmerizes your baby. If you desperately want to put your infant down so you can cook, clean, blog or just stretch your tired arms, this is the place to put her. Register for one.

A Rattle Toy. Mary loves the sound and stimulation of this one Lamaze rattle toy we have. She is particularly fascinated with the mirror. At first I thought she was tapping in to an innate issue with vanity, but I think she likes the light that bounces off of it. You can also hang it from an infant carrier, which makes car travel a little easier.

Pottery Barn's Play Mat. Not an eye sore, in fact, very cute and the colors match our nursery. Mary loves flailing around under the owls, especially when I shake them for her. The mat can keep her occupied for 20 minutes or so at a time, which gives me ample time to pump. We've also had a lot of success with tummy time on it. 

The Sleep Sheep. Mary is almost sleeping through the night. She has been waking up for one feeding around 2:30 AM and falling right back asleep at 3:00. The ease with which I am able to lay her down though, I owe to this cuddly little lamb. You press one of its settings, and for 23 or 45 minutes (you choose), it lulls your baby to sleep with sounds like a heart beating, the ocean, or rain drops. Mary loves the heartbeat.

Books. Thanks to an awesome library-stocking shower, we have an amazing collection of books. While I thought it was premature to begin building Mary's vocabulary, I recently learned that reading to her, even at this young age, is an excellent activity. Take the 8-hour ride home from Pittsburgh last week. Halfway through the trip, she was up, alert, and desperately wanting to play. When the rattle didn't work, I started telling her my own made up stories, then remembered (aha!) we had some books in the car. I ended up entertaining her for two hours with the words and pictures of Dr. Seuss. It was awesome.

I remain a minimalist though. And with summer right around the corner, and a weekend that made us think it had already arrived, I'm convinced that the best thing for your baby can't be found on a registry. It's the great outdoors. Just being in the stroller, on the lawn, or at a cookout are Mary's favorite past times right now. 

One more thing you might need though, a sun hat. And if you are lucky enough, Mimi and Opa's toy boat can help too.  
 
Lo.
 
Spring Panzanella












Salad Ingredients:
Bunch of asparagus, trimmed, blanched and cut in half
One yellow pepper, chopped
Cucumber, chopped
One ear of fresh corn, kernels removed
1/2 of a small red onion, diced 
Small loaf peasant bread, cut into one inch pieces
2 tablespoons butter
Salt

Dressing Ingredients:
2 tablespoons fresh parsley
4 mint leaves
3 chive sprigs
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 anchovy and a little of the oil from the container
Salt, pepper

Instructions: 
Make croutons: Toss cubed bread in melted butter, salt to taste. Bake at 350 degrees for 15-20 minutes until bread is golden brown. Set aside.

Toss salad ingredients together.

In a blender, mix together the dressing ingredients. Pour over salad ingredients and toss. Add croutons at the last minute.

The Fizzy Mary

Yesterday, while friends and family were texting, tweeting and posting with sitings of Chris Fowler, Flo Rida, and Versace, live from South Beach; and while Peter provided our neighborhood with quite a site as he cold-smoked salmon with his very own contraption; Mary felt the pressure to perform and bumped up by belly a bit more as she squeezed into a black turtleneck dress and made a debut of her own in front of a very special crowd of women.

Yesterday, I had my second baby shower at the North Shore Country Club in Glenview. It was hosted by the wonderful DG girls - best friends of my mother-in-law from her days at Drake University. Everything was just beautiful: the flower arrangements, the setting overlooking the golf course, the food and company, especially the cookies.

After all the wedding showers, I thought I would have been used to being the object of regalia. But what I have found is that baby showers are really quite different from their bridal counterpart. As the bride-to-be at showers, engagement parties, cookouts and luncheons, I had outfits and ones that fit: cute sundresses, new platform shoes, the clutch to match. I also had a champagne cocktail in my hand and the will power to resist the petifours. I elegantly unwrapped presents with manicured finger nails and knew exactly what I was going to do with kitchen supply A through Z that resided inside. 

Baby showers are a whole different ball game though. Instead of being the one who legitimately looks great, you 'look great' even if you are the guaranteed heavy weight of the room. The outfit isn't quite as cute and you don't look quite as cute in it. While everyone else is having a glass of white Burgundy, you get to sip sparkling water. Present opening becomes a little more awkward because gifts don't seem to rest gently in your lap like they used to, and if you happen to be a nail biter who is anticipating the biggest Notre Dame game in 20+ years, untying the ribbons can be particularly cumbersome. The other tough part is knowing exactly what you are supposed to do with the cloth diapers or diaper rash ointment you are opening. Time will tell they say. I did figure out the Sherpa car seat cover - totally plush - totally practical. 

But there is something way better about baby showers. That is, you always have a little buddy with you, helping you cheer as you unwrap the sweetest little outfits, the most cuddly quilt, a new chair for the dining room table, and a cow-print throne for the car. A little buddy who makes it okay for you to not only have a cookie, but a cupcake as well. And a little buddy who can bring out the double dose of love you feel from everyone in the room.

To say, 'thank you' to my seven amazing hostesses, I gave each of them a bottle of Rose Champagne and instructions on how to make our little lady's signature cocktail on the day that she arrives.

But I'm thinking I might just need to have a sip of my own Fizzy Mary tonight as a toast to Our Lady. Capital O. Capital L. Her team is playing in one big game tonight. And me and my belly dancer are getting really nervous.  

GO IRISH!!

Lo.

The Fizzy Mary

Place a sugar cube with dashes of aromatic bitters in a chilled champagne flute.
Fill the glass with Rose Champagne
Squeeze a lemon twist on time.
Raise your glass and toast, 'to Mary!'