Tips For Dad Mom Shouldn’t Know About
Diaper Changing Toddlers:
Children love water. Give a toddler a cup of water and it’s an adventure. This is no ordinary refreshment in the eyes of a two year old. We are talking about a cup of exploration. First is the gaze. Once the contents have been firmly established as an item that only dad supplies (moms provide sippy cups with firmly screwed on covers) the hand goes in. A vigorous stir and it is time for the inevitable chest pour. An over compensated sip attempt dumps the contents down the chest. After a three second look of surprise at dad (like we did not know that was coming) the toddler moves to the slap splash on the floor. Children love water. And the smart dad can use this advantage to counteract the unnatural act of diaper changing. All it takes is some relatively warm weather, a back yard and a garden hose. Thanks to technology, diapers are so absorbent that the weight of them can do most of the work for you. Strip the youngster down to just the diaper (this is the normal dress code when mom is out anyway), turn the hose on low pressure and hand it to the toddler. After a few moments of laughter and excitement the diaper will fall off on its own. It is then easily scooped up with a shovel for a no mess disposal.
Feeding:
Getting a toddler to eat can be a challenge. Mom uses all kinds of tricks that dad is simply incapable of. Foremost being the mouth mimic. There has been no scientific reasoning behind the mouth movements moms make when undergoing the feeding process. It cannot be duplicated by dads. Therefore dads must resort to a simpler method. This technique is best done directly after the diaper change before a new diaper is replaced. This calls for a sheet, a large plastic bowl of water, a plastic plate and a large assortment of treats. Spread the sheet out on the kitchen floor (tile floor is the key) and place the child in the center. Put the food on the plate and stand back. Again we have turned a chore into play time. Undoubtedly an ample amount of food will make it to the desired destination with little parental influence.
The Wash Up:
When the child has had enough to eat they will attempt to crawl to the edge of the sheet. This is dads cue to remove the plate and replace it with the large bowl of water. The natural affinity toward water will create a new playtime experience called the wash up. Again there is little effort required for this task. If the bowl is large enough the splashing will do most of the cleaning for you. The corners of the sheet can be dipped in the water in order to clean the hard to reach places. Once the child is clean the sheet is then swirled around the floor to absorb any left over water. What to do with the sheet is not as complex a problem as one might think. If put directly in the drier it will be easy to hide the sheet on the bottom of the hamper before mom gets home without the worry of mildew, or discovery.
Dressing:
Again technology has dad in mind with re-sealable tabs on diapers. Take the diaper and shake it vigorously to remove any folds. Apply the tabs so that it creates a pair of short pants. With the toddler facing you firmly grasp their head with your thighs. This will immobilize the child and keep your hands free to thread each of the kicking legs through the holes. Once the diaper is on you can then adjust the tabs to a snug fit.
The Praise:
When mom rushes through the door with anticipation of disaster you should be sitting on the couch with the child watching cartoons. The first question she asks will inevitably be “So how did it go?” Your reply should be well thought out and prepared. It is very important to avoid eye contact. Keep your focus on the television and say “It was great. I had a little extra time so I gave him a bath and mopped the kitchen floor.”
Photo by anitapatterson
Reliving Adventures
Shocking pain sears its way through the depths of sleep jolting me awake. No time to utter a word of protest before the ear ripping claw turns into the newly familiar gentle slapping against my cheek. A sweeter song than the Red Breasted Thrush outside my window commences in tempo to the face patting, “Da Da” is repeated over and over for me to wake up. I close my eyes pretending to sleep in order to savor the moment that will too soon be a memory. Not to be fooled, my 9 month old little girl resorts to the less than pleasant nose twist. My queue to acknowledge her has been made. Giggles erupt and smiles grow wide as I cover her face and neck with good morning kisses. I imagine that this is the extent of her young plans for the day and she considered them a success. Mine are a little more detailed. I can smell the spring freshness of the grass warming in the sun and know that it is the perfect day to begin my daughter’s first adventure.
“One more big push!” The doctor encourages. “You did this to me!” My wife yells turning her head towards me. What a cliché. I think to myself. I let her squeeze my hand as hard as she likes. I am torn with guilt. Oh how I wish I were cruising the Florida backwaters catching Snook. Shouldn’t a good father and husband want to be here? Not me. And I feel bad about it. This is not my comfort zone. “Imagine you are out on the boat with the cool breeze blowing.” I say calmingly. “Shut your big mouth! I could care less about your stupid boat!” Yeah….I’m so not in my comfort zone right now. I am trying to help but only making matters worse. Guilt. Shame. I feel like I’m inside an episode of Sesame Street with Cookie Monster singing “One of these things doesn’t belong here. One of these things just doesn’t belong.” I think I am getting a little sea sick. One last other worldly sound escapes my beautiful wife and another person enters the room, a brand new person. It hits me all at once. For nine months this tiny little person seemed like a condition, a symptom of an illness called pregnancy. My God she is beautiful, and real, very very real. My wife is laughing and crying, smiling and blubbering. I thing I am too. “We did it.” She says to me. We? I think. What the hell did I do? Suddenly there is no place on earth I would rather be. No other place on earth at all. My amazing wife and beautiful daughter are the very definition of my comfort zone.
Photo by Author
Squirming protests make the slathering of SPF 90 sunscreen coat the mahogany changing table spindles in such a fashion that only a father could do. It is not for lack of trying that diaper changing, powdering and dressing is left best in the hands of Mommy, who somehow had been born with a natural ability I would never master. This is daddy daughter adventure day and I will not be deterred. From start to finish, I want the whole package. What I lack in dressing finesse, I make up for with fatherly ingenuity.
The sun is warm but the laser beams shooting from Mommy’s eye are scorching. I lose count of how many times she asks “Are you sure this is safe?”. I assure her repeatedly until her voice transforms into Charlie Brown’s teacher. I apply salve to my injured pride with flair as I demonstrate my ingenious skills at rigging a booster seat to the helmsman’s chair of the 19′ Wellcraft open fisherman. The foot tapping on the dock signals another round of reassurance. “We are only going in the canals. No open sea. No speed over 10 knots.” Reluctantly she hands me the baby as if I were King Solomon about to make a judgment. Strapping in the baby I begin the arduous task of loading supplies.
I wonder if it were my wife that did the packing for the passengers aboard the S.S. Minnow. Outfitted with enough supplies for a relatively comfortable life on a deserted island we shove off for a three hour tour of the beautiful South West Florida waterways.
If I closed my eyes I am pretty sure that I could traverse the waterways with a reasonable amount of accuracy. Seeing the reflection of the rippling wake in my daughter’s bright blue eyes I realize that for too long I had been doing just that. Colorful plastic toys, fluffy stuffed animals, and chewy objects found throughout the house had become as familiar to her as the waterway had become to me. This was a new and curious experience filled with sights, sounds, and smells that had no reference of comparison. I open my eyes and mind to these senses. I begin to see the deep hues of the water. Mangrove trees with their spidery roots host Great White Herons. I feel myself slipping into the innocence of my daughter’s point of view. No metaphors or similes in my mind. I accept what I am seeing as fresh and new; nature in its own splendor, worthy of its own definition. Over the years I have taken the simplest of things for granted hoping for something greater and more impressive.
A dolphin blows a misty spray 20 feet off the bow. Quickly I try in vain to divert my daughter’s attention to the dolphin. She has no interest in my excited pointing and gesturing. There is plenty of wonder in the pelican feather, spinning like an out of control raft on the Colorado River, drifting in the boats wake. I power back the engine and begin a wide port turn to circle back to the pelican feather. I stretch hard and get a little wetter than I would have liked but it is worth it when I see I have become a hero in my little girl’s eyes as I hand her the plume. She looks upon the billowy object with curiosity until it ultimately goes straight in her mouth. I suppose that tasting is as normal as looking, touching, and smelling when it comes to pre-toddler investigation techniques. Who is to say what tastes good or bad when there is nothing to compare it to?
Hunger begins to navigate. There is a waterway that is so well hidden from the main channel that even the most curious of kayakers often pass it by. Gaining entrance to this passage takes some tricky maneuvering but well worth the effort. Once through the entrance twists and turns bring me to a land of make believe where I am Ponce De Leon exploring the Florida coast in search of the Fountain of Youth. The water is shallow, 2 or 3 feet at most, enough that I feel comfortable anchoring for lunch. No boats would be through here on a Monday morning. With no sudden wakes to contend with it is a safe place to bring my little girl up to the front of the boat to play while I prepare our picnic brunch. Bite size pasta squares for her, left over conch fritters and fried oysters for me and apple juice for us both. We eat and play. Point and make noises at each other that only the two of us could comprehend. Dropping food over the side opens a whole new world. Black and gold Sergeant Major fish peck at the bits of pasta in a fury. This prompts a level of giggling second only to morning neck kisses.
Lunch cleared away I accept my daughter’s implied suggestion of fishing. She plays with her hat while I bring the bait bucket and spinning rod to the bow of the boat. She peers into the white plastic bucket at the swimming shrimp while I swirl the water with my hand in pursuit of the fattest fish teaser. Catching a nice one I thread it on the hook and cast smoothly out over the still water. This warrants only the briefest of glances. Her concentration is on the translucent crustaceans jetting about in the bucket. Almost instantly I get a bite. “Daddy got a big one sweetie!” I proclaim. I fight the Mangrove snapper with excitement. Landing the fish warrants another brief glance. The real action is in the bucket. Deflated I release the fish back into the water. Only seconds pass before I realize that today’s adventure is about her. I follow her cue and catch another shrimp. This time it is spared from certain death by Snapper. I place the hopping shrimp on the deck of the boat for her to examine. She touches it and it jumps. She looks at me curiously and I long to know what is in her mind. My imagination could never match the innocent wonder she must be feeling, how the thoughts are forming in her mind. Almost prophetically I notice the time is passing quickly. Soon she would be sleepy and ready for a nap.
My promise to Mommy that we would only be gone two hours comes to mind. Sleepy eyes tell me that it is time for rest. I decide on a quick phone call to hold back the fury and inform the nail biting Mommy that we are safe and that I am going to let the sleepy girl nap on a towel for an hour before we head back. This allows me time to reflect on the lessons learned today. I think back on all the adventures I have had in my travels. The future is more exciting than ever as the knowledge that I will be able to relive all of them through the eyes of my little girl. Everything seems new and fresh again. I may once again sail the Caribbean, hike through rain forests, or explore the great cathedrals of Europe. I will not take them for granted.
We pull into the dock behind the house with Mommy waiting, hands clapping and a big smile. “Did you have a great adventure today? Did you learn lots of new things?” She says in a sing song voice. Yes I did, I think to myself. Yes I did.
Photo By Author
1000-1000 Challenge and the need for goals.
Where is the line between work and play?
I often start a project that is, in my mind, primarily for fun. The ideas for a novel build up in that little creative section of my mind until they have to burst into written words. It’s all fun and games until that little grey crevice is purged of creative juice and I fight for every paragraph like an angler battles a fish too big for the line.
Time for a break into another “fun” project such as playing with my blog. The posts just fall out of my head onto the WYSIWYG WordPress editor with a splat and the publish button is pressed. All the while knowing I need to get back to my novel.
Only through the goals that I set am I able to break between projects and keep all of my “work” running as “play”.
Time to set some goals for my blog as well. What better way than Travel Blog Challenge’s group effort of the 1000-1000 Challenge?
Here we go… Let’s see where we land.
Read MoreThanksgiving Around the World
Thanksgiving Around the World
While Thanksgiving is a traditional American Holiday, different parts of the world have similar holidays to celebrate being thankful for what we have.
One thing I am most thankful for is that I have had the opportunity to live in some of the most beautiful places around the globe.
This year I want to dedicate Thanksgiving to Italy. Living in Italy has provided me with memories that will last forever. Some of those great memories are by far the wonderful tastes of Tuscany.
La Festa del Ringraziamento, translated roughly to, Festival of Thanks will be celebrated in my home this year with some of my favorite recipes from Italy for our own version of an Italian Thanksgiving.
Try some of these courses to add a travelers spice to your own version of Thanksgiving no matter where you are in the world.
AntiPasti
Salvia Fritta (Fried Sage Leaves)
These are best prepared as guests arrive as they must be eaten straight away while piping hot. The recipe is easy to figure out so use amounts appropriate to the amount of guests.
Stripped, washed and dried Sage Leaves.
Egg
Flour
Coarse Salt
Pepper
Light Olive Oil
Allspice
Beat egg and coat sage leaves. Coat with flour and shake off excess. Dip leaves in hot olive oil and fry until golden brown. Remove from oil and sprinkle with salt, pepper and a dash of allspice. Serve with red wine as a guest greeter.
Primi
Roasted Pumpkin and Pear Soup
2 White Onions
3 Cloves Garlic
2 cups Roasted Pears
4 Cups Roasted Pumpkin
4 Tablespoons Butter
Dash Cinnamon
Dash Nutmeg
½ cup Heavy Cream
4 cups Chicken Broth
Pre-heat oven to 375 degrees. Cut pumpkin and pears into large cubes. Place pumpkin on a foil covered baking pan and cook for 30 minutes. Remove pan and add pears. Cook both for an additional 30 minutes. Pumpkin and pears should be at the point where you say “oops I almost burned them”.
Chop onions and garlic and sauté in butter on medium heat until translucent. Add chicken broth and bring to a low boil.
Mash pumpkin and pears and add to the broth carefully. Simmer for 30 minutes. Add cream and bring to a just before boiling point. Pour soup into a terrine and sprinkle top with a dash of cinnamon and nutmeg.
Secondi
Porcini Injected Turkey and Stuffing
This is an easy to play with method for making your Thanksgiving turkey. Every family seems to have their own traditional stuffing so this is just a little twist.
1 pound (roughly depending on turkey size) whole fresh porcini mushrooms.
½ pound Butter
6 Cloves Garlic
Turkey
Stuffing
Melt butter in a saucepan. Put half of the mushrooms in a food processor along with the melted butter and garlic until it turns into a liquid.
Inject the liquid just beneath the skin of the turkey with a syringe. (no needle) A syringe can be obtained at any pet shop. Make sure to evenly inject the liquid over the entire breast area as well as the legs and thighs.
Add the remaining whole mushrooms to the stuffing mixture to add a meaty Italian flair to your traditional turkey.
Contorni
The Thanksgiving meal is all about the side dishes. The contorni are side dishes. Here are two easy ones to add to your list.
Caprese Insalata
Fresh Basil
Tomatoes
Black Olives
Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Buffalo Mozzarella
Slice Mozzarella into half inch thick slices. Top with sliced tomato, whole basil leaves and sprinkle with extra virgin olive oil. Garnish with black olives
Almond Asiago
This is a favorite and super easy to make side dish.
1 Block of whole Asiago Cheese
Almond Paste
Crushed Pistachios
Slice Asiago cheese into 1/8th inch slices. Spread a thin layer of almond paste on cheese and sprinkle with crushed pistachios.
Dolci
Choosing an Italian dessert is like choosing your favorite child. It cannot be done. So for arguments sake I am choosing one at random.
This is a simple yet unusual tart that must be tasted to be appreciated. A description will not do it justice. I have had several versions of this but I found a recipe by Deborah Mele that beats them all by a mile.
Crostata
9 Tablespoons Unsalted Butter, Softened
1/2 Cup Granulated Sugar
1 Large Egg
1 Large Egg Yolk
1 Teaspoon Cinnamon
1 1/2 Cups All-purpose Flour
1/2 Cup Finely Ground Cornmeal
1/2 Teaspoon Salt
2 Teaspoons Baking Powder
2 Cups Fruit Jam
Mix together the butter and sugar with a hand mixer until well blended. Add the egg and egg yolk and continue to mix until smooth. In a separate bowl, mix the flour, cornmeal, salt, baking powder and cinnamon. Add the dry ingredients to the butter mixture and mix just until the dough comes together.
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Take about 3/4 of a cup of the dough mixture and set it aside. Press the remaining dough into the bottom and up the sides of a 10 inch tart pan with a removable bottom. Spoon the jam into the crust and use a spoon to smooth across the bottom crust. Using your fingers, break up the remaining crust mixture into small pea sized pieces and drop along the outer edges of the tart, leaving the center section of jam uncovered.
Bake the tart in the preheated oven for about 20 to 25 minutes or until it is lightly browned. Remove from the oven and allow to come to room temperature before serving.
Buon Apetito
Read MoreSupersonic Trains: The 4000 MPH Underwater MagLev
It’s all been said before; futuristic travel that seems to punch through the thin film that separates science from science fiction. “Not in my life time.”
I suppose that in 1900 the concept of transatlantic commercial airlines sounded pretty bizarre. For those that thought it possible surely thought they would never see it in their lifetime.
Skip ahead 30 odd years, with a lot going on in between, and Germany, France and Italy had regular flights from West Africa to South America. Flash forward another 30 years and the Concorde makes its first supersonic commercial flight. All of this happens within a lifetime.
The motivation for faster travel, cheaper travel and certainly more comfortable travel cannot compare with the motives of travel that will help prevent the destruction of the planet.
Airlines are expected to be spewing out 1.5 BILLION TONS of Co2 by 2025. The entire European Union emits 3.1 Billion. A single industry emits nearly half the amount of Co2 as the entire 27-Nation EU. If that is not motivation to change travel then we are all in a world of shit.
Enter the Trans-Atlantic MagLev: A 4000 mph train that will carry goods and passengers from New York to London in under an hour below the surface of the water. But is it possible? Sure it is. And it is not that futuristic at all. The only thing preventing it from happening is the cost. Estimated to have a $78 to $155 Billion price tag. That works out to about $100 per ton of Co2 for a single year. Not too bad actually.
Then again, coming up with $100 Billion can be tricky when the US pours Hundreds of Billions into failing banks. Global Warming vs. Greedy Bankers Bailouts. Am I stupid or is this a no-brainer? Of course the economic security of the nation is of vital importance, but perhaps being able to go outside without getting cancer, catastrophic weather changes, extinction of the human race etc. etc. has SOMEPLACE on the table here! Just saying…
Will we see this in our lifetime? Well that is pretty much up to us. It is not science fiction. It is simply a matter of priorities set by those we put in office. Today being “Election” day I thought this food for thought appropriate.
You can read more about The Maglev at http://www.popsci.com/scitech/article/2004-04/trans-atlantic-maglev
Read MoreBoston’s Vintage Postcards
Photo Courtesy of Boston Public Library
In a recent post titled “Vintage Blogger? Early Twentieth Century Blogging” I discussed how postcards create lasting memories of travel experiences.
On my daily trip to Intelligent Travel, National Geographic’s travel blog, I discovered a post about vintage postcards going on display at the Boston Public Library. For those able to visit the display at Copley Square, I strongly recommend it.
Postcards are more than simple notes from a far off land. These 6” x 4” works of art are mementos that last the ages. The era of digital communication lacks the subtle nuances of earlier times, when meaningful letters were tucked away and tied with string.
Many people save emails that have some personal meaning, but that pales in comparison to postcards stamped with the mark of a distant land.
On your next trip brighten someone’s day with a postcard in their mailbox.
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