Author: Shane

Ollie, Ollie, Quite Contrary

/ Shane / Leave a comment

Ollie’s contrariness has slowly been on the rise, but I think it’s safe to say it has finally arrived in full force. Up is down, black is white, and Oliver absolutely did NOT get dressed this morning, despite what your eyes tell you.

I mostly think of the automatic disagreement as a 2 year old thing, so Ollie is perhaps a little late to the party, though I do specifically remember thinking that 3 was a more difficult age than 2. So maybe I just don’t remember properly. But seriously, who is this surly, disagreeable, grumpy boy and what has he done with my Oliver?

The hardest part about dealing with a kid this age is that it takes *so* *much* *effort*. Aside from Gandhi-esk patience (which I do not possess), you have to have an unlimited store of creative ways to convince him to do things. You simply cannot force him to go to the potty, or get in the bath, or stop goofing around and eat his breakfast. You really can’t. Instead, every event becomes a test, not of your willpower, but on your ability to trick someone.

The main technique is to distract him. This is a surprisingly easy task with a 3 year old. If you just start talking really fast, it usually only takes 30 seconds or so to find a topic fascinating enough that he will forget you are lifting him on to the potty. Stories work too, or doing something goofy to make him laugh. These things are ten times more effective than bribes, which makes them about a hundred times more effective than threats.

Making threats? That is…not so effective. Unfortunately, that’s kind of where your brain goes naturally, so you do spend a lot of time either backpedaling on those, or trying to make good on a lot of ineffective threats.

And in the meantime? Just keep muttering, “It’s just a phase. It’s just a phase.”

Quote Monday is quite literal

/ Shane / Leave a comment

Evie: “Oliver, you can only touch it with your eyes.”
::Ollie lifting the book towards his face::
Evie: “Not like that!!”

Me: “Did you watch the washing machine going around and around?”
Ollie: “No. I watched the clothes going around.”

Me: “You keep your grubby paws off of it.”
Oliver, looking at his hands and turning them over in confusion: “I don’t have paws!”

Oliver, looking at the new load of dirt for the garden: “Whoah, the garden got really dirty!”

White Bean and Tuna Salad with Radicchio and Parsley Vinaigrette

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The first Friday of the month is reserved for recipes. You can see additional First Friday Food posts here.

The Reason:

Boy, I don’t know where this one came from. I think we just saw it in Bon Appetit and decided to try it. But the real reasons to make it are, 1) it’s delicious, and 2) it’s SUPER quick and easy.

The Journey:

This would work well as a fancy-pants side dish, but we just serve it as a meal, all by itself. I guess it has a lot of oil in it, but other than that it’s about as healthy as a dinner comes, and packs a lot more flavor than your average salad. Plus it’s different and interesting. I’m really having trouble thinking of any downsides.

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Radicchio is a little bitter, so normally I’m not a huge fan. But in this case, the bitterness really sets off the vinaigrette perfectly, and the tuna and beans give it texture and some staying power in your tummy.

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The Verdict:

I feel like a broken record here, but we have an endless appetite for quick, easy, and healthy recipes. We can never have enough of them. This one is in heavy rotation for nights when Sara and I both work.

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The Recipe:

Recipe originally from Bon Appetit:

Parsley Vinaigrette

  • 2 cups (packed) flat-leaf parsley (leaves and stems)
  • 1/4 cup olive oil
  • 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
  • 1 tablespoon Champagne vinegar (we found it at Trader Joes)
  • 2 garlic cloves, crushed
  • Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
  1. Pulse parsley, oil, lemon juice, vinegar, and garlic in a food processor until well blended. Season to taste with salt and pepper (~1/4 teaspoon salt and ~1/8 teaspoon pepper).

White Bean and Tuna Salad with Radicchio

  • 1 medium head of radicchio, cored, leaves coarsely torn
  • 2 15-ounce cans cannellini (white kidney) beans, rinsed, drained
  • 2 celery stalks, sliced thinly on an extreme diagonal
  • 2 cans drained olive oil–packed tuna
  1. Place radicchio in a large bowl; drizzle with 3 Tbsp. Parsley Vinaigrette and toss to coat.
  2. Transfer to a serving platter, spreading out in an even layer.
  3. Combine 3 Tbsp. Parsley Vinaigrette, cannellini beans, and celery in the large bowl; toss to coat.
  4. Arrange bean mixture on top of radicchio.
  5. Top salad with tuna.
  6. Drizzle some vinaigrette over.
  7. Add more salt and pepper, to taste.

Don’t hog the gas pump!

/ Shane / 4 Comments

When driving in the car, the goal is to minimize the impact of any stops. Usually this means charting the quickest route to obtain one or more of the following:

  1. Gas
  2. Bathroom
  3. Coffee

On this particular trip, we needed all three. There was a gas station just off the road at the next exit, so we decided to grab that while we could. The plan was Sara and Ollie would use the bathroom while I pumped gas and then we’d find a place for Sara to get us coffee, where Evie and I would use the bathroom.

The best laid plans of mice and men.

5 out of 6 pumps at the gas station were full, and the 6th was broken. I circled around for a little while before parking off to the side waiting for one of the pumps to open up. Waited, and waited, and waited. Nobody seemed to be moving, or pumping gas for that matter. Just as I was starting to get annoyed, Sara and Oliver came back from the bathroom.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“The line is six deep for the woman’s bathroom,” replied Sara.

We sat and waited for a bit, but still no pumps were opening, and all the while the clock was ticking.

“Everybody’s waiting for someone in the bathroom,” said Sara.

“Why don’t they pull away from the pumps? Can’t they wait off to the side?”

“I don’t know.”

One of the cars was parked about 3 feet in front of the pump; not close enough to actually pump gas, but too close for me to get my car up there. He was just sitting there, his car running.

“Go ask that guy to pull forward a little bit,” I said.

Sara walked over to the car, Ollie in tow.

“Excuse me sir, can you pull forward a little bit?” asked Sara.

“Of course I can ma’am,” he said politely. He was like 100 years old.

Just at that minute another man comes running out of the gas station. “What are you doing, Dad? Don’t let them take your pump!” He shot Sara a dirty look. “I was just inside paying for gas on that pump!”

“Oh, sorry!” said Sara. “I didn’t know you were using it.”

From where I was sitting in the car I could see the man muttering to himself about what an idiot Sara was and giving her dirty looks. Now look, they weren’t even parked at the pump. How was Sara supposed to know what was going on? Did Sara, holding the hand of a 3 year old, really look like she was trying to steal the pump from this old guy? And if the old guy driving is not competent enough to say, “Actually, my son’s inside paying for this pump right now,” then is he really competent enough to be driving?

And STILL nobody had left a pump.

“My wife’s just inside going to the bathroom,” said the man at the next pump.

“There’s about 6 people waiting in line for the bathroom,” replied Sara.

“Eh,” shrugged the man, continuing to just stand there gazing off at the station.

Sara walked helplessly back and forth until FINALLY someone got the message and pulled over to the side so we could get to the pump. Then Sara pumped the gas so I could take Ollie in to the no-wait men’s room.

What’s the deal? Why not pull off to the side when you’re done pumping gas?

Of course I’ve sat at the pump while I ran inside. Honestly, most of the time I don’t. On the other hand, there are usually 15 open pumps. If I were occupying a pump when a gas station was that full, I would have so much anxiety about it that I just couldn’t stand it. I physically would not be able to force myself to be still. I would be checking my watch, twitching in my seat, checking the door for Sara, checking my watch again, pretending to get more gas, whatever I could do to pretend there was some reason I couldn’t move my car. These people? Cool as cucumbers, absolutely guilt and anxiety free. Who did I think I was, that I couldn’t wait for them? How dare I expect them to move a muscle, just because I wanted gas? They paid for that gas, they own that pump for as long as they want to use it.

Isn’t there anybody left in the world who cares even the slightest amount about anybody else besides themselves?

The No-Sleep House

/ Shane / Leave a comment

If there’s one thing that has defined our child-rearing experience, it’s sleep troubles. However, it has been so good for maybe 6 months, so I kind of thought we had it solved (by “we had it solved” I mean the kids grew up and grew out of it, not that we did anything in particular). Basically, we had a routine: the kids go to bed at about 7, and mostly fall asleep by 7:15, the kids get up at about 6 which is 30 minutes earlier than we allow them to actually get up, but manageable. Even when Ollie started skipping naps here and again, or if Evie was particularly tired from school, we would just try to get them in bed by 6:30 or so, so they could catch a little extra sleep.

However!

It turns out that perhaps we were not so out of the woods as we would like to imagine. It turns out that the only reason the kids have been sleeping in to the glorious late hour of 6 a.m. is because it’s been *dark* until then for the last 6 months. It’s not dark at that time anymore, nor is it dark when they go to bed at 7 p.m. And it’s only going to get worse as we get into summer.

This is so, so obvious in retrospect that I’m cursing myself for a fool for even forgetting for a second that our 6 a.m. “late” mornings would end as soon as it was light earlier. Evie in particular has *never* been able to sleep when it’s light out. And, of course, this is further complicated by the fact that the two of them are sharing a room; this means there are now TWO chances that the sun will wake somebody up, who will wake the other immediately on pure principle. It also doesn’t help that one or the other is perpetually sick, which means hacking, sneezing, and most importantly, waking up. Loudly.

Of course, our room shares a wall with their room, which means when they’re up, we’re up. I lay and listen to them talking, or singing, or fighting, or coughing and just wish they’d be quiet for 15 more minutes. If they can’t sleep, couldn’t they at least just lie there, or play quietly, or look at books or something? But on the other hand, isn’t that why we put the two of them in the same room? It’s not like we can say, “Play together, but do not exceed this decibel level until the specified time.”

There’s nothing we can do about the sun. We have a blackout shade, and a good thing too, since that’s what allows us to get to 5:30 or so. They’re simply not getting enough sleep, and neither are we, which means everybody has raw nerves and zero patience.

Will this never be over?