Rolling

I believe that the person who coined the cliche, 'it's a lot of work to have fun' was a mom breastfeeding her three month old in a Toyota Yaris in the car port of the ferry taking her family back from Martha's Vineyard. However that age-old saying goes - the one that I remember my father saying as he went to work stuffing five suitcases into a family-sized sedan outside of our hotel in Rouen, sweat dripping down his face; and again when he was stuffing five sets of skis into a full-size rental outside the Denver airport, and again and again whenever we dealt with plane delays, ferry splash zones, long meandering car rides, detours, schleps, and 'are we there yets' - it is 100 percent true if you are traveling with children. 

While nursing Mary in compact cars, bathroom stalls, and beach fronts; schleping strollers, infant carriers, diapers, binkies, blankets, and breast pumps; flying, driving, ferrying and pacifying; experiencing new beds, new bath tubs, and new people made our first family vacation challenging at times, the fun we had in Edgartown on the Vineyard, in Woods Hole, Falmouth and Bourne on the Cape, and in Boston was worth the extra coordination. And I've got to say, as we landed last night, I felt pretty proud of our summer jaunt and our brave little traveler. 

In the spirit of keeping things easier though, I've cut the word count and just shared some tips, highlights, photos, and recommendations from our trip. We'll definitely be back for many June vacations to come.

1. Edgartown is one of my new favorite places in the U.S.A. - each of the 11 million dollar houses that line Water Street, High Street, School Street, Church Street, and every other generically named avenue is a dream come true. Their perfectly pruned rose gardens are equally impressive. Just don't get discouraged by how the upper .5% of the population lives.
2. The historic Harbor-View hotel in Edgartown was a wonderful place to stay with Mary. The staff was very friendly and accommodating, the pool was the perfect temperature, and the rocking chairs on the porch made Mary very happy in the evenings.
3. Happy Hour at the Atlantic complete with free bacon on the bar, followed by dinner at Water Street (thanks Mom and Dad!) makes for a great evening in Edgartown.
4. Late June, right before 'the season' starts is a wonderful time to come to the Cape and the Islands - no crowds, beautiful weather (although I'm told that typically it's not this nice), lots of striped bass, and better prices.
5. If you happen to be in the Falmouth area, try to get an invite to a McLaughlin and Daughter pizza party - hands down one of the best food-themed events I've ever been to.
6. Find ways / times / places that will give your baby down time each day. There were times when we definitely bit off more than Mary could chew.
7. In the event of a meltdown, hammocks can be a mom's best friend.
8. Apparently, I need to get a hooter hider, but I would also encourage restaurants, hotels, and airports to create nursing rooms for their guests.
9. Staying with friends, especially friends that have every infant gadget known to man is invaluable. We can't thank Kristen, Kevin and Callum enough for their generous hospitality while we were on the Cape.
10. It's worth the extra money to not ride around in a Yaris.
11. If you are lucky enough to have a husband that can catch lots of big fish, Saveur has a great recipe for roasted striped bass. 
12. The Freedom Trail is better when it's not 95 degrees in Boston. 
13. Hands down, the best stop on any site seeing tour is your daughter rolling over for the first time. Way to go, champ!

Oak Bluffs, Martha's Vineyard

Edgartown, Martha's Vineyard

 

Menemsha, Martha's Vineyard

 

Bourne
 

 

Woods Hole

 

 

Pizza Party at the McLaughlin's

 

 

     

 

 

West Falmouth Beach

Boston

 

Likely, the woman who first said she needed a vacation from her vacation was also a mom. And for the next three days, this mom is on it.

Lo. 

Dad

Growing up, there were never clear cut gender roles in my household and often times, the traditional ones were reversed. Both my Mom and Dad went to work each morning; they took turns packing our lunches and dropping us off at school; household chores were shared; no job was too macho for my mom and no job was too dainty for my dad.

That being said, it was always difficult to find a Father's Day card that fit. The power tool, golf, and beer belly themes hardly resonated. I would search and search for a card that expressed my love for a Speedo Dad. Or an impeccably dressed Dad. I never found a card that talked about a Dad that could sing the harmony while playing the melody on the piano. Or better yet, a Dad that saved children's lives during the day and gardened, cooked, and braided his little girl's hair before she went to bed at night. Often I was forced to go with a generic 'Super Dad' card or the do-it-yourself route, colored pencils in tow.  

This year, while disappointed once again in the selection of cards that spoke to my father, I was pleasantly surprised with the selection that related to Mary's Dad. My husband - the grilling, beer loving, hunting, fishing Mr. Fix It perfectly fits within the marketed 'dad' role. The problem was, even then Hallmark's words and images couldn't detail just how good Peter is at filling that role.

He's not just any old griller, he's a grill master.
He's not just a fisherman, he's a striper saboteur. 
He's not just a beer drinker, he's a beer connoisseur. 
He's not just any old great dad, he's an all-star.

And the big thing missing was something that both my Dad and Mary's Dad do all to well; that is, quietly, calmly making sure everyone in the house gets a good night sleep.


If I ever had a bad dream as a little girl, I would run into my parents room, seeking consolation. While the ultimate goal was to climb up in bed next to my mom, my Dad would always lead me back to my twin bed and sit down next to me. Gently he would pat my back with his strong hand and whether is was the rhythmic sound or the comforting feeling like his heart was beating into mine, quickly the nightmares would disappear and once again I would fall into a deep sleep. I never remember the pats stopping or my Dad leaving the room, the whole house was asleep before then.

Peter has a similar ability to lull Mary to sleep at nap time and bed time, giving both me and her countless hours of precious slumber over the past three months. Honestly, Peter has been the anchor of our little family, keeping everyone cool, calm, collected, and above all rested when it's been needed most.

So even though his 'little grill' got him a pretty cute card yesterday, she wrote a new one, just for her special daddy today. (Okay, I wrote it, but it's supposed to be in her voice.)

Right after Mommy reads me Goodnight Moon.
Or Goodnight Pittsburgh, Chicago and Cape Cod.
Right after she thinks I'm asleep and dozes off too.
I open my little eyes and give the baby monitor a nod.
You come to my rescue and we escape to the baby cave. 
It's our special place, designed for just you and me.
There we sing Go, Cubs, Go! We call Rizzo SAFE!
We talk home brews, the Weber, and all the fish in the sea.
I love you for one last bottle.
For tummy time and helping me to toddle. 
I love you for making your special place into mine.
And for rocking me to sleep until the sun shines. 


To my Dad and Mary's Dad, thank you for always helping us sleep so soundly.

  Lo.

Baker and Baby

Yesterday, on Mary's three month birthday, we got a very special visit from some of the Naperville cousins - the first, second, and removed kind.  

Somewhere in the middle of our banter, between Mary's hair, Amanda's nails, and Bob's incorrigible sense of humor, I mentioned that I had made a cake the day before. Melissa promptly asked, 'now how did you do that?' I took a second to answer. How did I do that?

Was Mary napping? No, because outside of her go-back-to-bed-for-a-couple-hours-after-she-eats 'naps' in the morning, she doesn't really nap at all. Oh yeah, she was just hanging out with me in the kitchen the whole time. In short, here's how I balanced baking and baby care.

While breastfeeding Mary in the morning, I selected a recipe to go along with the request, carrot cake, and read it very carefully, making sure I knew every twist and turn in the procedure. Once it was go time, there was no looking back.

'Okay Mary, here's your base camp. (Blanket on the kitchen floor, spit up cloth over that, Sophie teether to the right, bunny rattle to the left.) I'm going to be right here.'
'Coo.'
'Okay, first Mommy has to peel the carrots.'
'Coo.'
'Then I have to shred them in the blender.'
'Baaaaahhhhh.' 
The Cuisinart wailed and so did Mary, startled by the loud sound. I quickly picked her up and showed her what I was doing which calmed her. About midway through measuring and mixing the dry ingredients, I set her back on the floor again so I could continue with two hands. I kept talking to Mary the whole time, explaining what I was doing and why I was doing it - above all to celebrate Uncle Trent. And she remained pacified until the loud noise I was making by leveling the batter sparked a couple more cries.

When the cakes were in the oven, we went for a walk. When they were cooling and resting, I fed her and changed her. When it was time to make the icing, I once again set up her play station and encouraged her to wiggle around while I quickly beat the butter, melted the white chocolate, stirred in the confectioners sugar and started to assemble the two-layered cake. Just as I was licking the spatula and starting to do the dishes, Mary let out an 'I've had enough of this' cry. And up and out we went.

That night, Mary slept through the singing, the wind blowing out the candles for Trent, and the cake cutting.

 

But I had an extra slice for her. I figured if Mary didn't get to have a piece, she could at least have extra sweet milk before she went to bed.

Lo.

10 Tips When Baking with Baby: 

1. Baby base camp is key. I'm sure there are contraptions you can put your baby in while you are cooking, but there's not enough room in our kitchen and I'm a big fan of just letting Mary roll around.
2. Talk to your baby the whole time - tell her what you are doing and why you are doing it.
3. Hold her at times and show her what you are doing.
4. But NEVER hold your baby when knives are present or when the oven is open. (I know that's obvious, but just wanted to clear that up.)
5. When there is a clean break in a recipe - when something needs to set, cool, rest, etc. go take a walk with your baby or just do something else in another room.
6. About every two, three, maybe five minutes check on baby, shake the rattle, smile at her, let her know that Mommy is very close.
7. Basically, you should try to work in 20-30 minute increments - that seems to be the breaking point for any of Mary's activities.

8. Always err on making too much icing - that's just my baking tip in general. 

9. Shop for a recipe on Sweetopolita.com - her zesty carrot cake was a home run on Wednesday evening. 

10. While I was never a fan of 'eating for two' when I was pregnant, if cake is involved, eating for two when you're breastfeeding seems a-okay. 

The Agenda War

While some families strive and stress to keep up with the Joneses, my family's struggle for glory is more internal in nature. And while the typical family looking to one up their neighbor measures and ranks wealth, stature, cars, kitchens, and closets full of crap, our familial rivalry is rather immaterial. Every weekend, the text messages fly from pool lanes to opera houses; from the nation's skies to its great lakes, from one's room with a view to someone else's with an arguably better perspective, as we engage in an innocent game of who is having more fun with their 48 hours of freedom. As soon as the first cocktail is poured on Friday at 5:00 PM, lines are drawn and the battle of the ultimate weekend agenda commences.

At a young age my parents preached that we should make every trip count, that an idle hand is the devil's workshop, and that time is money. The combination of these valued life lessons has made each of us agenda over achievers, trying to make the most of our time in and out of the office. Sure you can just go to the pool for the day, but if you can go to the pool, network your way into five business deals, eat the best, yet healthiest lunch you've had in decades, learn how to prepare said recipe, swim a zillion laps, teach all the children around you how to swim as well, read one book, two magazines, and every leading national newspaper, tan evenly, and find time to have a couple laughs, well than that's a quality pool day. 

While my brother, sister and I dare to compete with my Mom and Dad every weekend, generally they win without contest. In fact, I'm willing to bet that their calendar could often times beat out the most intense presidential schedule.

There were times, days, weekends when I was favored to win the war, but since Mary has come along our ability to cram in as much as possible has been limited. Recently, a friend even asked how all the other stuff was coming - she had read about motherhood, but she wondered if I was still gardening, running, cooking, baking, and entertaining.

While I've been focusing on small wins in the kitchen, around the backyard and on the sidewalks of Chicagoland for the past three months, this week was different. As Mary becomes more and more acclimated to life, calculating her agenda becomes easier and easier, and Peter and I have been able to move ourselves further and further from an established comfort zone. This week, we nearly did it all: there was a pretty rapid 5K run (3.1 miles in 20:50 - boom!) followed by a barbecue with the Joerns, a trip downtown - 20 miles in the car for Peter and Mary, just 10 for me because I jumped out halfway to get a run on the Lake in, boating, a bargain night out at Vie with Claire and Trent (best French 75 ever!), visitors, a week-long love affair with rhubarb - in the form of crumb cakes, crumbles, and an iced slab pie, FIGS!, trimming roses, and (oooh, ahhh) vacation planning! Arguably, to a fussy little baby on Sunday night, we did too much.

So as Mary starts showing signs of crawling, so too are her parents, eeking our way back into more adventurous routines and all the other stuff that makes us who we are. But we're still a far cry from first place.

On today's agenda - baking a birthday cake for Uncle Trent and wishing the gold medal winner in calendar court, my Mom, a very happy birthday!

Lo.

Fig Salad with Prosciutto, Goat Cheese and Toasted Walnuts 
Serves four 

Six fresh figs, cut in half
Four slices prosciutto, cut into strips
4 ounces Cyprus Grove purple haze goat cheese, crumbled
1/4 cup toasted walnuts, halved
Red leaf lettuce, enough for four salad plates
1 teaspoon honey
2 tablespoons salad oil
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
Salt, pepper

Make dressing by whisking together honey, vinegar, oil, salt and pepper. Set aside.

In a large bowl, toss lettuce with dressing and goat cheese.

On a salad plate, arrange portion of lettuce. On top place three figs, ribbons of prosciutto and toasted walnuts. Serve.

Invisible Me

I grew up on the stage; singing, dancing, hogging stage left to stage right. If there was a spotlight, I was under it; I was the first to sign up for talent shows and the first to audition for the biggest part; when the curtain closed I prayed for an encore; and where there wasn't a stage, I set up impromptu ones - in my parents basement, in the sink gallery at my hairdresser, on a piece of modern art at the Carnegie Museum - security was quick to give me the hook though.

Later in life, when academics and athletics made traditional performance opportunities more scarce, I looked for other ways to lay claim to center stage. Say by repeatedly raising my hand to answer each one of the professor's questions, by shooting and scoring our team into the top ranks of collegiate lacrosse, and by turning dining room tables into edible masterpieces for friends and family. For ages it seemed that each of my 'ta da' moments garnered thunderous applause from my loyal fans. And I ate it up.

However recently, someone said to me, 'you realize that you just became invisible, don't you?'
'Huh?'
'From now on, you are just Mary's mom. Invisible.'
I hadn't thought about it, but it was absolutely true. Life's casting director had started calling back another promising player while demoting me to stage crew or worse yet, lights. Each week, the spotlight seems to pass by me a little faster and focus on another rising star. Not even freshly baked scones, a ruffly red dress, and five inch stacked heels could take the attention off the little someone I was toting around this weekend.

The thing is, the spotlight seemed to find some other more seasoned players recently as well. Dressed in my post pregnancy finest, I walked into a reception hall filled with more than 800 St. Mary's women and found myself playing another role: Nora's Daughter. No one there was familiar with my past performances - they had gathered to cheer on my award-winning Mom as she took the stage, accepted her prize, and delivered some inspiring remarks.

Finally toward the end of the evening, as the sea of women finished applauding four of St. Mary's most accomplished alumnae, including my mother, there was a contingent ogling over a good-looking guy holding the cutest little baby. I took it upon me to play the role of wife and escorted them off stage right. 

After years and years of being the one to take the bows and accept the applause, I figure it's my turn to wear black, change the scenery, and hand out props. And honestly, I'm kind of loving it. After all, standing backstage as Peter's wife and Mary's Mom, Nora and Don's daughter and Erin and Adam's sister, friend, niece, aunt, cousin, and teammate to many is an honor and reward in and of itself.    

Because I've learned the best role that I can play is that of support system to those I love. Just being the pastry baker, note taker, hair straightener, applause creator and above all smile maker is a pretty great gig.

Lo.