When I was a toddler, my dad invested in some property on a lake about two hours from our daily lives in suburban Chicago. My dad was an accountant, but also loved fishing, hunting and the great outdoors.  He wore suits and leather shoes during the week and swapped them for flannel shirts and Wranglers as he packed his duffel bag and loaded up our blue Jeep Wagoneer with provisions. 

Weekends at the lake included barbecuing, collecting bugs and turtles and swimming in a wading pool in the backyard while my mom sat in a lawn chair and drank Tab while we waited for dad to come back from fishing with the neighbors. We spent many birthdays at that house, and made lifelong friends with the locals. 

The lake behind our house was a figure 8 shaped lake large enough to fish, swim and drive a pontoon boat around for an afternoon cruise. It was also where my dad and I spent many of our milestone moments together.  When I was 8, he taught me to swim in that lake, making me paddle from our dock to the floating raft parked some distance away. In the winter, he ice fished, and I learned to ice skate. He taught me how to fish, including how to bait my own hook and how to cast properly. One night at sunset, I snagged a catfish that almost pulled me off the dock. My dad cheered as he helped me pull it in, cigarette dangling from his mouth as we lifted the fish out of the water. “Stephie! You did it!” he said proudly. It snapped the line a second later, and swam off, becoming a tale of family folklore that dad and I would retell frequently. 

As I got older, my interest changed—I wanted to go to malls, play sports at school and focus on my school friends and getting into a top university—and I spent less time at the lake house. When I graduated college and moved to New York to embark on my fast-paced big city journalism career, my parents retired to the lake house. 

A few years into retirement, my father was diagnosed with cancer. In between chemo treatments, on good sunny days, we went to the lake to troll around, listening to bullfrogs, enjoying the trees swaying in the breeze, reflecting on a life well lived, a family formed and loved at that lake.

After my dad’s funeral, my husband’s family and mine gathered at our house to support my mom. After dinner and many drinks we all meandered down to the lake, to take in the view, to pay respects, to scatter some of the flowers that people had brought to the service in memoriam of my father. The lake was a glass mirror, reflecting the colors of the trees and the pinkish summer sky dancing off its surface. The sounds of frogs chirping and rabbits charging through the brush were all too familiar. It was as if the joy of my dad’s soul was surrounding us all as we stood on the pier.

I hadn’t been back to that lake in since my dad’s passing nine years ago. I wasn’t strong enough to go, still grieving my dad’s loss and too upset to spend time there. This weekend, I returned, with my daughter and husband. 

It was surreal to see my daughter walking down the hill, through the yard I once walked with my dad. Her sparkly purple jacket glistening in the sunshine, matching the spark in her voice and she questioned daddy about what type of fish we could catch. It was like looking at myself 40 years earlier. 

My daughter walked onto the boat and grabbed her pole from my husband and eagerly learned how to fish. She reeled her line in and cast it out in an arch about ten feet from the boat. She kept practicing. Soon enough, her casts became smoother and longer.  

Just before we called it a night, my daughter caught a nibble. Her father helped her reel it in, and there it was, the most perfect bluegill in the entire lake.

It was as if my father was standing next to us, watching the entire scene, smoking a cigarette and sipping a beer, celebrating the moment with us.

My daughter looks like my father, expressive eyes, wide smile. That night, I felt he had transcended within her. If not at least he was there to witness a great core memory. 

We went out to that lake every night while we were home to watch my daughter fish. Her smile, wide and goofy just my dad’s. I promised to come back to this lake more often, at least while my daughter is still young, before she too gets distracted by adolescence. It’s my tribute to my father, the outdoorsman, on Father’s Day, the reason why we have a lake house in the first place, and the spark within myself and my daughter that loves and appreciate getting out and casting a long line into still waters. 

The post This Father’s Day, I’ll Honor My Father by Going Fishing appeared first on 300 Sandwiches.

I usually go all out for Q’s birthday. I love to pick a theme, or the theme picks me. This year, Q picked the theme–space. So, I was tasked to plan a party that was outta this world.

With the help of the perfect venue, we threw a space-themed birthday party for Q that had plenty of planets, space treasures, moon rocks and intergalactic magic. The best part of it all was seeing the smiles on my daughter and her friends’ faces. I had tons of goodies planned, including a moon rocks treasure hunt and feeding the “space creatures” at our celestial venue. But despite my event planning skills (which include agonizing about the weather right up until the start of the party) I’m always reminded the magic of the unexpected is always what makes a great party.

If your kid is into all things planets and stars, here’s how you can plan a space themed party at home:

— Pick colors and materials that reflect the stars and planets–dark colors for the night sky, glitter for stars, purples and reds for planets, etc. We used lighter pinks and pastels to still give it a girly feel.
—Order your child an astronaut helmet. Trust me. I bought this one from Amazon and it’s great quality and large enough for most young kids. No helmet? Order space themed stickers and have your kids bring their bike helmets and decorate their bike helmet with the stickers.

—Dress the part! I ordered NASA t-shirts for the whole family to wear. If your child’s really into the theme, why not sport a NASA jacket or astronaut costume?

—Create a moon rocks treasure hunt! Place candy in clear spheres and cover the spheres in aluminum foil to make moon rocks. Hide the rocks around your home or party space, and watch the kids scatter to find the treasures!

—Offer space themed snacks like Moon Pies and planet-shaped macaroons and star-shaped sandwiches or fruit using cookie cutters or stensils.

—Fill goodie bags with space themed toys and (if you choose) candy, such as Milky Ways, Mars and Starbursts. My goodie bags has more toys than candy, like space themed stamps, bracelets and small rocket-shaped flashlights. I found these parachute men online and they were a huge hit with the kids. They fly best when launched from an incline or hill to the floor below.

Thanks to Greenland Bubble Glamping in Cabarete, Dominican Republic for making the day awesome!

The post How To Plan a Space-Themed Birthday Party appeared first on 300 Sandwiches.

Today, we’re still working through Halloween candy and gazing at our pumpkin that we never got around to carving (our story: we had another one, but carved it too soon and it got all gnarly within days and I had to through it out. We got another one, then watched this amazing, life changing carving demo, then got too busy to carve the guy!). But ahead, I have a lot on my November/December seasonal to do list, in addition to my regular to do list and my school to do list (because my daughter has a more active social life than I do).

In order to not feel overwhelmed, I’ve decided to assemble of the things I truly want to do over the next two months intro my very first Holiday Bucket List. These are the things I want to throw myself into wholeheartedly while wearing cozy holiday socks and shopping for gifts for my family. I hope my house smells like baked goods all season, and I hope friends come over in a steady stream for the next two months. Calories don’t count during this time, just laughs and hugs. ‘Tis the season.

What’s on your holiday bucket list? Write down the things you really want to do this season, not the things you have to do, but the things that make you really feel the holiday spirit. Keep a list, and check it often!

The post It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year appeared first on 300 Sandwiches.

Still together.

Still exploring.

Still making sandwiches, albeit for smaller hands these days.

Still loving.

Still keeping it 300.

The post Still here… appeared first on 300 Sandwiches.

E had fantasies of plating perfectly packed runny egg with a side of caviar for his foodie child, who then would turn to him saying, “what, no smoked salmon??? ” He was eager to introduce her to truffle butter scrambled eggs with a side of caviar and organic French loaf. And duck fat. Glorious duck fat. All before she could hold a knife and fork.

But as soon as we found foods that worked well, everything changed. A tooth would come in, and her ability to chew food would wane because her gums would be too sore. Then she got a cold, which meant sticking to more liquid type fruit purees or broths. Or–our favorite–constipation. Which meant no avocado. Or chicken. Or meatballs. Or anything except for fiber rich prunes and pears, sprinkled with flax seeds. While other kids may have skipped gleefully from veggies purees to chicken and rice to solid finger foods, our process was a long, slow experimentation. Which made me feel even more insecure about my mommying.

Enter again: Little Spoon.

As I experimented with different flavors and foods, Little Spoon’s flavors evolve to match a baby’s age and tastes. I could order pear, or kale carrots and pear, or pear pea mint, depending on how Q was feeling or what she was in the mood for.  With each order, Little Spoon sends you information on your child’s development each time they send you a shipment.

To help guide me towards foods that are great for Q at particular ages, Little Spoon also has this thing called Blueprint, which selects foods that  match with developmental milestones as your baby grows. Good thing, because you might think your kid is ready for spinach at six months, like I did, but then you realize you’re supposed to wait until your kid is 8 months because of concerns over nitrates and you realize YOU’RE DOING EVERYTHING WRONG AND YOU’RE A HORRIBLE MOTHER AND THIS CHILD WILL NOT SURVIVE IN YOUR CARE…..do you see how easy it is to slide down that slippery slope of mom guilt??? Thank you, Little Spoon, for keeping me sane. My child and husband thank you, too.

Now, at 15 months, my child eats everything. Scrambled eggs became a quick favorite, as did ground or shredded chicken, broccoli (to Eric’s disappointment), collard greens, beans, lentils and tofu. And salmon. And this chili. And oatmeal. Yogurt. Dahl. Soup. And yes, Little Spoon.

Sometimes I use Little Spoon as a side dish to a protein because their sweet potato, apple, red pepper and turmeric blend is amazeballs with chicken. Or maybe, yet again, when Q is having stomach trouble, and I need a simple blend to help her soothe her tummy. Despite Q now eating table food, I’m still able to use their purees to supplement meals when needed.

Little Spoon also has some yummy finger food varieties for older kids, too.

So, if I were to give a few tips on how to introduce solids to your kid, I would say:

• Be patient, and be ready for your kid’s tastes and needs to change on a dime.
• Start with easy-to-digest fruits and vegetables, then gradually mix and match veggies as your kid gets more and more familiar. Cut up veggies into bite-sized pieces and steam or boil until soft enough to mash with a finger.
• Try a food more than once before you decide your kid doesn’t like them. You never know when or what your child will fall in love with at a given moment.
• Try Little Spoon. Go to their site and use the code 300SANDWICHES for a discount. Mix and match your flavors and have fun. And I highly recommend you pack the chia seed mango coconut milk blend in your purse for a midday snack, cuz that it the bomb diggity!!!!

Oh, and don’t forget to stock up on vinyl bibs. Unlike fabric ones, they wipe off easy and can be quickly run under water to clean.

The post Feeding Q, A Love Story Volume 2: Solids appeared first on 300 Sandwiches.

Feeding Q has always been a challenge. When she was first born, I breastfed for the most part, supplementing on occasion with formula only in the first few days. But at 2 months, when were in the Dominican Republic for our maternity-moon, she grew so quickly that she was outpacing my milk production. This meant she cried extensively as she got hungrier, particularly around dinnertime. I had to find a healthy formula for her while in DR. The choice was agonizing. I thought I would start her on the organic, hormone-free, imported formula from Germany my friends were raving about when she was ready. I couldn’t find that in DR. I had to settle for Similac. Or Gerber. Or whatever the local grocery store had. What if I made the wrong choice? What if Q got sick from Dominican formula? What If I hurt her? OH.GOD!

“Child, there are hundreds of thousands of other healthy kids running around that island and all of them were raised on formula!!!” my mom told me via many a FaceTime chats.  “You better get that child some formula before she starves to death!” I chose Enfamil after a day of research. Then it took me another two days to get confident enough to boil water and make a bottle. I was scared I’d “get it wrong.” Yes, I was scared of getting wrong adding hot water to a bottle. Everything about parenting is about the fear of doing it wrong. More calls to mom. “Child, if you don’t make that baby a bottle I”m going to fly down there and bring that child back to Michigan myself!”

You know who gave the baby her first bottles? E, because I was too nervous  (#newmommy). It went fine. Q loved the formula (Enfamil, by the way. Bought at the local grocery store in Cabarate). Her tummy was finally full. We supplemented two feedings with bottles per day, and those evening cryfests ended immediately. The baby was just hungry.

We mastered formula feeds for a few months. Around 5 months, it was time to introduce soft purees.

I started Q first on sweet potatoes. We were at friend’s house whose baby is a month older than Q, which is a godsend for me because my friend could experiment with baby-rearing techniques and gear with her little one and report back to me on what works and what doesn’t. For food, she told me her little one was into sweet potatoes and corn, and offered Q a bit of each. We sat little Q down on E’s knee and put a bit of sweet potato on her tongue. The funniest thing in the world is watching little baby taste food of the first time their minds turning as they search for familiarity but have nothing to compare to except for breast milk and formula. She gobbled it down.

Next was avocado–which is as you may know is on E’s Forbidden Foods list. Q ate it, but wasn’t in love with it. It was the first thing I noticed caused her tummy to slow down. Binding foods like avocado and bananas back things up in little babies. For Q, they backed WAY up—she would get very constipated after eating them, which then made her not want to go at all, which meant a lot of screaming and tears when she would finally push a hard stool out.

What seemed to agree with her best were  pears, apple, mangoes, prunes and carrots. Easy on the tummy, easy to blend and serve. I had this dream that each night I would steam fruit and vegetable each night and puree them in my Cuisinart, filling tiny tupperware containers with colorful foods and labeling them for display on the top shelf of the refrigerator. NOPE. Didn’t happen. Ain’t nobody–well, this working mom who barely had time to feed herself—got time for that!!!

So, back to the store I went. Until another option found me. Little Spoon.

Little Spoon is this amazing food service that delivers organic, pure, freshly-made baby food to your home. To. your. home. The food is packed in little containers that include a small spoon in the actual container! It was genius. The food is organic,  completely fresh and free of additives (look at the ingredients list. For mangoes it’s “organic mango”. For pears, it’s “organic pears.”) And I could still feed my baby fresh food without feeling guilty, and also knowing what exactly I was putting into my baby’s mouth.

I was lucky enough to meet the founders Michelle and Lisa right when they were launching, and right when Q was starting on the purees. I signed up with a few of their basic flavors , and have been hooked ever since.  In fact, I love them so much, I became a “mom advisor” to the company. I’m not usually one to endorse a bunch of products, I usually only write about what I love, without anyone giving me anything in return. So you know if I’m telling you I’m personally connected  to someone or something, I really have love for them.

Listen, feeding a child is an adventure, one that is unique to each parent and each child. I’m sharing what worked for me: patience, my mother’s advice,  tons of trial and Little Spoon. Mommies, I think your kid will love Little Spoon, so please try some out by clicking  here. Use the promo code 300SANDWICHES for a trial on me. And, if you have any great advice on recipes that your baby are addicted to, I’d love to hear.

Oh, and this was just what I learned from the first few months of feeding Q. In the next posts, I’ll share what happened when we moved to solid foods, and how Little Spoon’s Blueprint plan has helped guide me in crafting Q’s diet as she grows. And, I’ll share some of the recipes that Q has eaten most.

The post Feeding Q, A Love Story Volume 1: The First Bites appeared first on 300 Sandwiches.

While the rest of the world was out drinking and dancing or standing in freezing cold Times Square, E and I were passed out on the couch in the middle of “Girl’s Trip,” only to be awaken by a teething baby. We jolted awake and got the baby back to sleep just in time to watch the ball drop. At 12:15, we fell back asleep.  We have so turned into our parents.

For New Year’s morning, after a workout to sweat out any remnants of last year, I wanted a soul warming breakfast to help everyone set a cozy intention for the day. I was craving pancakes, but thought against eating such a decadent breakfast right after the gym. E had perfected the art of Dutch baby over the summer. Dutch babies are like oversized, fluffy pancakes, but with a bit more swagger and lighter in density. They bake up golden brown and airy in a skillet, and can be served directly from said skillet at the kitchen table, topped with whatever fruit or syrups your heart desire.

To take my mind off of the frigid weather and put E and I in a state of mind to plan our next Caribbean vacation (yet another January sojourn awaits), I made what I call Island babies–Dutch babies with a bit of Caribbean flavor. A shot of rum from Barbados, a sprinkle of nutmeg and a layer of plantains (or bananas when your plantains have gone well past ripe), motivated us to commit to our island vacation, stat.  We let Q try just a smidge of the pancake, too, since the alcohol burns off during cooking.

Some cooking tips: A good cast iron skillet works well for this, or you can use a pie pan if that’s what’s handy. And, preheat the skillet before you pour in the batter, so the baby cooks evenly and doesn’t stick to pan, E advised me. I obliged. He was not wrong. He also likes to caramelize the fruit a bit before placing on the batter to soften up the fruit. I skipped this, and simply placed a small thin pat of butter on top of each banana slice. Lastly, the pancake will fall slightly once you remove it from the oven, so if you want that Instagram worthy shot of breakfast or to wow your brunch pals, be quick about putting on your toppings so you can present the completed dish before it settles.

The post Island Baby, a.k.a a Caribbean-Inspired Dutch Baby appeared first on 300 Sandwiches.

This photo is:

a.) the reason why I was late to work today.

b.) the reason why no one noticed I was late to work today

c.) motivation for me to finish my Christmas shopping

d.) the source of 1,456 extra calories I consumed throughout the day.

Answer: all of the above

The post Holiday Visuals appeared first on 300 Sandwiches.

I spent all day Saturday whipping up various flavors of Christmas cookie dough while sipping Baileys over ice in a holiday mug and watching Q scurry around our apartment in her Christmas pjs. Nothing is cuter than candy cane pjs on a baby.

I wanted to make enough batches of cookies to give to my coworkers, my doctor’s office and other helpful folks in my orbit. Gingerbreads and shortbreads were on my to do list, and I had to include a chocolate chip variety. I could have gone with my go to recipe, but I wanted to try something fresh. Salted chocolate chip came to mind–something about that combo of salty and gooey, warm chocolate got my mouth watering.

This recipe by David Leibovitz intrigued me, as the secret ingredient was not just flaky sea salt, but also tahini. I never thought to bake with the sauce, instead only using it in hummus and savory sides. But it adds an unsuspected richness to each cookie, cutting the sweetness, leaving each bite even that more satisfying in your mouth.

I followed the ingredients to the “t”, but futzed with the preparation because I got distracted by the candy cane baby cuteness and other things. The cookies still turned out perfect,  savory and sweet, melted chocolatey goodness. I ate way more than I like to admit. Thankfully, I have two more batches of cookies still left in my refrigerator to bake.

The post Salted Chocolate Chip Tahini Cookies for the Snow Day Win appeared first on 300 Sandwiches.

And Andes mints and cordial cherries (even though I hated them, I still loved the holiday spirit they represented).

And Swiss Miss hot chocolate with the mini marshmallows, even though a packet never yielded enough marshmallows, and I would always add a handful of additional full sized marshmallows for extra melted sugary foam topping.

And debating with my father how Santa was going to deliver all of his present to millions of kids around the world in just 8 short hours.

And racing home every day from school so I could plug in the Christmas lights on the tree and watch whatever holiday special was on television that given night.

And Cabbage Patch Kids and My Little Ponies and tea sets and typewriters and Michael Jackson everything and holiday onesies.

I miss these innocent holiday times.

I miss my mom.

I told her enough on text today.

She responded: “I miss you every day. Now you get to do those things with your little girl.”

Get ready Q. You’re about to relive Christmas in the 80s.

You will watch “A Charlie Brown Christmas” every day  until December 25. And listen to the Vince Guaraldi Trio soundtrack.

You will wear ugly Christmas onesies every day. Ones that match with mommy.

You will watch as I bake batches of almond crescents, shortbread, chocolate chip, snickerdoodles and gingerbread cookies for the entire neighborhood.

That Grinch stuffed animal in your teepee? I acquired that from Macy’s when I was 14. You will sleep with it every night.

Oh, and under the tree for you are two full sized Strawberry Shortcakes and a 25th anniversary edition Cabbage Patch Kid, still in the box, never opened.  You will open both of these on Christmas morning.

And you will remember this Christmas for years to come.

As will I.

The post Mentally Home for the Holidays appeared first on 300 Sandwiches.

This year, I’m back. Ready to cook and contribute. Ready to tablescape! And little Q, she is so ready to chow down on a full plate of food with her nine teeth and full cheeks. Bring it, Thanksgiving. I’m here for it.

Dessert, I got you. This pumpkin bourbon pie will be served up with a generous heaping of whipped cream and mulled wine.  I love pumpkin pie, but I jazz up the standard recipe with some bourbon. I used a bottle of Kings Country Distillery bourbon we had in our liquor stockpile as my secret sauce, but whatever dark whiskey you prefer will suffice.

Do you know the difference between bourbon and whiskey? Read up on the specifics here. Then, impress your family at your holiday gathering with your newfound knowledge while you hand them a slice of pumpkin bourbony goodness.

The post Pumpkin Bourbon Pie appeared first on 300 Sandwiches.

I know a few things about first birthday parties, having hosted one and gone to a bunch more. A few weeks ago, we hosted Q’s first birthday in our apartment. It was better than I could have ever planned. We kept the guest list small, made our own cake and kept the munchies minimal. We sang happy birthday and brought out the cake before the kids got cranky, so the pictures of Q surrounded by her friends and family looked amazing. I had enough toys on hand that the munchkins stayed entertained, and invited enough adults that each child had at least 2 pairs of eyes on them, but not too many adults that the babies felt intimidated. Q had a great time–so much so, she passed out in her party dress afterwards.

I’ve learned a lot from hosting and attending first birthdays, and while every parent will do whatever they feel will make their child happy, here are the things I did to ensure my baby had her best party ever:

1. Pick the date early. I started planning Q’s birthday party 6 months in advance. I have several friends who’ve all had babies around the same time, so their children’s first birthdays all fell around Q’s big day. I knew I would be going to their parties, and I wanted my friends to come to Q’s. So we parents started nailing down dates early, to make sure no birthday coincided with another. It worked.
2. Consider the pros and cons of the desired venue, and compare those to the desired outcome of the event. Early on in my planning, I became obsessed about renting out a magical venue, like Jane’s Carousel in Brooklyn, located right under the Brooklyn Bridge. I thought it would be a great meeting place for all of my friends and their kids, and would provide a breathtaking backdrop for photos. Then I considered renting out a kid’s play space to throw the party. Most included about two hours of activities, staff to help with setup and cleanup, and some even threw in a cake. But that option cost much more than I planned to spend for this party. And much more than E wanted to spend. He made it clear that because Q would still be too young to remember her party, he didn’t want to spend a fortune. He ended up being right.
3. The smaller, the better. We hosted the party in our apartment with four of Q’s 1-year-old friends. We had a large area in the living room set up for the kids to play and crawl around in, they had tons of toys, and the parents had plenty of space to sit around them and keep watch. It was low stress for all. Everyone was super relaxed and had a fantastic time. I’ve been to some parties where there are a wider range of kids and adults, and sometimes the young guest of honor gets a bit stressed out at all of the varied levels of interaction–bigger kids may jump or lunge while playing, scaring smaller kids. And babies may get worn out after dozens of cheek squeezes and cuddles by older relatives.
4. Don’t go overboard on the decor. I quickly filled up a Pinterest board of ideas I wanted to bring to life at Q’s party. The photo booth. The teepeee. The high chair tulle skirt. In the end, I only obtained the teepee, because it was a birthday gift from Grandma. Between the cake, the toys, the random ball or shoe or piece of gift wrap strewn across the floor, the kids were well entertained. I didn’t need to fill the room with high end decor for a party that they won’t remember by the end of the day.
5. Make the smash cake. Even if you don’t bake, even if you’re scared to bake, try and make your own smash cake for your child on their birthday. E made a delicious version of this beautiful smash cake for Q, but we bought another cake for the adults from a local high end bakery. E’s cake looked just as beautiful as the store bought version, and tasted as delicious. And, it made me feel warm and tingly inside watching Q eat a cake handmade by her own father. I guarantee you’d feel the same.

The post 5 Tips to Throwing a Low-Stress, Kick-Ass First Birthday Party appeared first on 300 Sandwiches.

My first year as a mother has been the most enlightening year of my life. I never thought I could laugh and cry so hard and so long at the same time. I never thought my heart could grow as big as it has from loving Q. I never thought I could function so well on such little REM sleep.

Many have wondered why I haven’t been blogging as much the past couple of months. For one, I couldn’t seem to find the time, and if I did, I wanted to spend it gazing into the eyes of my baby, not at a computer screen. I knew this time between us was fleeting, so I needed to live in the moment as best I could.

I also didn’t feel confident enough to share the struggles I’ve had during motherhood with the world. For example, the way I had a breakdown when Q had a bad fall. I cried more when Q had a cold over the summer and another one in September than she did. I was not as strong or as knowledgeable about motherhood as I wanted to pretend, so I didn’t pretend. Instead, I lived out the lessons my baby taught me every day in private, and got some perspective.  Now after a year, I have more context on everything I’ve experienced. Thus, whatever tips or advice I share will be even better informed.

Aside from the challenges, I’ve had so many joys, way more than I can remember. But a lot of our happiest moments with Q just aren’t share-worthy. For example, the best part of the day is when Q wakes up in the morning and gives me that gummy grin. Then we pull her into bed with us, and she crawls around and giggles and smacks our faces with that delicate but heavy baby hands. Those moments are not styled. The lighting isn’t perfect. And the last thing I want to do in that moment is grab a camera. I just want to keep squeezing my baby.

The years are running by. Each day of dirty diapers and meltdowns over naps and bumps and bruises seem longer than the next. But the years are flying by so quickly that it seems like I gave birth 15 minutes ago. Before I know it, Q will be walking, then running, then driving. And I will look back and think did I have enough time? Did we cherish all of our moments together? Was I present enough?

I don’t want to second guess. I want to know. That may mean at times sharing fewer moments with the world to share more time with my baby. Or it may mean sharing more—baby pictures are why Instagram and Facebook were invented, right?

Whatever I can do to make my moments with her last a bit longer, I will do.

The post One Year Into Motherhood appeared first on 300 Sandwiches.

Aside from the travels, we’ve also hit other milestones—she’s now eating baby food, and even eating some solids. She’s got 8 teeth. She’s babbling on with dadadaddada and babbbabba and bththhhththth and geeeeee! E and I celebrated our second anniversary, and we lived through a small remodel project in our apartment.

We have lived our best life this summer. And we don’t want it to end. Labor Day may signal a back to school type feeling for some, but as long as the weather is warm, we will be wearing flip-flops and white pants, drinking rose and enjoying every last drop of summer.  Here’s our plan for keeping that seasonal glow right on through September:

—Keep drinking rose. Not making the switch to red wine until the temperature hits 60 degrees.

—Make cobblers. I haven’t made one yet this year, and August is the best time to find peaches, plums and stone fruit in season. I’m going to stock up,  and freeze what I can for a few cobblers and tarts in the next few weeks.

—Beach trips. The beaches will be packed the next few weeks, but after Labor Day, many will retreat back to the city. For many, September means hurricane season. For E, it’s also prime kite season. So we’ll be making a few trips out to the beach so he can get some time on the water.

—Morning coffee dates. When the weather turned nice, we would take Q for a walk together by the Brooklyn waterfront, and grab coffee and a treat and sit with her in the sun. That tradition will continue well into the fall, even if our coffee order switched from iced to hot.

The post Crafting an Endless Summer appeared first on 300 Sandwiches.

Finally, summer  is upon us. This one is going to be more special than ever, and that’s coming after a string of kick ass summers in recent years. How ever could I top the summer of 2015, which brought the publication of the 300 Sandwiches book, our wedding and the honeymoon of a lifetime?

This summer will also be the first summer with baby. Summer of Q! Let the adventure begin.

Before the official start of the season, we had time to do a dry run of all of the products, food and funstuffs that will carry us through the next few months. From picnic blankets to rose, herewith is the list of things that the three of us won’t be able to do without.

• • Wine delivery service. Why I haven’t just ordered a case of Rose already is beyond me. Instead, I’m buying bottles in pairs every few days for dinners al fresco and the occasional . When I run out, I go to Drizly.com and restock. They can deliver to my house within an hour, which means I have rose in hand before our grill can come to the proper temperature to grill out.
  • Beach tent. This beach tent is a portable shaded safe house on the beach when the sun is blaring down.  It has UPF 50+ protectant fabric and has screened in windows so to give you a view and a cool breeze from outside. It’s big enough for two adults to lay out comfortably, so Q has plenty of room to play and crawl around and still feel the warm ocean breezes on her chubby cheeks.
  • Baby sunblock: I am hyper concerned about what goes on my baby’s skin. Q was too young to use traditional baby sunblock in January when we were in the Dominican Republic, so I simply used pure zinc block and wiped it off when we came inside, per my doctor’s recommendation. I cycled through a bunch of baby sunblock brands since, but Badger sunscreen is also zinc based and made of organic ingredients. One of my mommy friends uses it for her child, so I picked up some for Q.
  • Baby sunblock hats. Gotta keep Q’s big dome protected. (Really, she has a big head, it consistently measures in the 75 to 90 percentile range). This one is still one of my favorites, and it has an adjustable toggle strap so the hat grows with your growing baby.
  • Nylon picnic blanket. We live near the Brooklyn waterfront, and have already spent a few summer Fridays with some rose and snacks while taking in the sunset as it cuts behind our view of downtown New York , the East River and the Statue of Liberty. I love a good picnic blanket with a nylon waterproof backing, and this one from H&M is so cute. I stashed it in Q’s stroller so we could use it during afternoon outings, too.
  • Plastic spray bottles.  During a rooftop barbecue a few weeks ago, the afternoon sun blazed so hot we set up the beach tent under an umbrella to create a shady area for the kids. To keep them even cooler, we used spray bottles to gently mist the babies with water. That made the difference between uncomfortable, dehydrated kiddos and happy sun tots. It’s like carrying a portable sprinkler at your finger tips.
  • Overnight oats. During the summer, I want to get out of the house as fast as possible to enjoy the awesome summer weather. Instead of making a lengthy breakfast, overnight oats are our favorite grab and go morning meal. E and I are pushing each other to come up with different tasty combinations each day. We prep overnight oats the night before, and grab a bowl with coffee for instant breakfast. I’m enjoying the ol’ standby of banana (sliced), coconut flakes, chocolate shavings, cinnamon and almond milk. E is a chocolate protein powder, coffee, maple syrup, almond milk kinda guy.
  • Go to summer sandwich:   Nothing says summer like sandwich #23, the tomato and feta cheese open faced sandwich. Fresh heirloom tomatoes, crisp herbs, chopped garlic. Makes me want to head to a farmstead in the country immediately.

(I didn’t get paid for any of this. I just love what I love and wanted to share.)

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6/6/15

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The gift of travel is the best thing you can give a person of any age. For a baby, it’s even more special. Little ones are never too little to start learning about the world, and the adventures they have observing life outside of their pack n’ plays are memories they’ll have for a lifetime, not matter how young they are.

My husband planned our daughter’s first international vacation as soon as she entered this world. We spent the last month of my maternity leave abroad, a somewhat growing trend as The New York Post wrote about this weekend.  As such, out little girl needed a passport. The process was as tedious as expected, but E and I got one for our baby within two weeks. Rules for getting a child a passport are printed on the State Department’s website, but a number of my friends have recently asked me about my experience.

Below, I’m sharing some tips to getting a passport for a baby and how to make the process less hectic. The big surprise: the hard part was not the paperwork, it was getting an appropriate photograph of a squirmy, wiggly, confused newborn. Tips on getting that elusive photo are below.

• Go in person to the post office or passport agency to apply. If there’s an issue with your paperwork or photo, it will be easier to correct on site or within arm’s reach than waiting for the agency to receive your documents and mail them back. And, if applicable, both parents should go together with the child to apply. Passport offices need consent from both parents to issue the passport, and both parent’s attendance at the application site automatically conveys that.
• You’ll need your passport and original birth certificate for the child. We also brought her social security card as a backup form of ID.
• It can take up to eight weeks to get a passport. Pay extra to have it expedited. E and I got ours within two weeks. It’s worth every penny to shave off processing time.
• GETTING THE APPROPRIATE PHOTO IS CRUCIAL. I can’t stress how important this is. E and I had to go back to the passport office several times because we could not get an approved photo for Q. According to the website, the child needed to be photographed on a white or off-white plain background and face the camera with their eyes wide open, ears and neck showing, and dressed in street clothing, all in a 2X2 photo. Do you know how hard it is to get an 8 week old to sit still long enough to get a photo that hits those qualifications? Damn near impossible. I took nearly 300 shots on my iPhone trying to get the right image! Here’s how you can get the photo in much less time:
  • Dress your baby in clothes visible from the chest up. If your child appears naked, the passport office will not accept it (E and I were sent home the first time because of this). A regular white onesie is fine so long as it’s visible in the 2×2 photo.
  • Place your baby on her back on a white fitted sheet in her crib or on a flat surface. Fitted sheets will stay smooth and prevent shadows from forming on the background or on the baby’s face.
  • Some people also recommend placing a sheet over a car seat and taking a photo of your baby while sitting in the seat. I found it cast too many shadows on the photo, but it could be worth a shot.
  • Make sure the child’s neck is visible in the photo, even if this means shooting from slightly above their sight line so their gaze goes upward. But remember, the child must be looking directly forward, and both ears must be showing in the photo. This is harder to capture for a newborn whose head can be larger than their body than you think.
  • Take more than one photo with you to the passport office and let them give you guidance on which photo to use. After two unsuccessful attempts, E and I took a dozen options with us to the third meeting and showed them all to the passport agent. Finally, we found an image that would suffice.

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I’m excited! I’m excited to wake up early and squeeze my baby and husband and eat pancakes and drink mimosas for breakfast and dance around the house in my pajamas… and then climb back into bed and sleep the rest of the day.

Because the only thing a new mom, or any mom, really wants for Mother’s Day, is sleep.

Nevertheless, I’ve got three of the best gifts a mommy could receive for the holiday.

First, this story in the NY Post about me and other new moms that took mini breaks away from home with their newborns during maternity leave. Thanks to my old stomping grounds for including me. And to those who think being a mom abroad with a newborn is a vacation—puh-lease. Just because there’s palm trees in your view from the bedroom window doesn’t mean you’re not up multiple times a night, getting peed and pooped on, and leaking milk from engorged boobs. Doing all of that while trying to recover from childbirth is no vacation, no matter how nice the weather. Read more about all of the drama and delight I endured on my trip to the Dominican Republic with a two month old  here, here and here.

Second, my mother gave me an early Mother’s Day gift. She came to visit me and little Q for a whole week earlier this month. We spent most of our time either on the couch with the baby or walking behind the stroller around the neighborhood. Mom watched me in my new mom element, which was a bit surreal knowing she did all of the same childrearing for me 30 years ago. I understood everything about my mother once I had Q. I wish I would have known sooner. I also wish, like many other grown women close to their moms, I wasn’t such a jerk between the ages of 12 and 14, and would like to publicly apologize to her for all of the strife I put her through. You truly did deserve to utter those infamous words, “I brought you into this world, I can take you out.”

Anyway, mom, I love you. Thank you for being awesome. Thank you for showing me the way.

Oh, my third gift? Do I really have to say it?

That is all.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mommies.

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To love your feet. Q stares at her feet for hours. She puts them in her mouth, she caresses them, she treasures them as if they hold the key to magical infant powers. You’ll never spend so much time looking at a human’s feet as you do the hours you spend watching your child discover theirs.

To dance. Q’s legs never stop moving. Whether she’s on her back in the crib on in my lap, those legs are always moving. I should always keep moving. It will be key to burning off these pregnancy pounds.

To smile at the smallest things. I think she smiles because she discovered she has a mouth. She loves smiling because she can. And that is reason enough to smile as much as possible.

To make noise even when you don’t know how to perfectly express yourself.  Gaaaaahhhh, ahh boooo, haaa! are the extent of Q’s vocabulary, yet she yells these illegible words loudly, with pride. As a writer I should put this into practice–even when I have no idea what I want to say, or don’t know how to say it perfectly, I should say it anyway. The words will eventually catch up with my thoughts.

To let E drive more so you can catch a cat nap in the car. I used to be a horrible back seat driver. Now, nothing better than stealing some much needed shuteye while daddy drives.

To reach above your head for objects that might be out of your reach. Keep going, for one day, after many attempts, grunts and failures, you just might reach that Wubbanub pacifier.

To eat every three hours or else risk turning into a cranky, crying, whining, poopie pants that drives everyone around you crazy.

To adapt to change. Feeding patterns, sleeping patterns, toys they like, toys they don’t like. Noises they make. Looks they give. Diapers they fit into. Poops they poop. Everything changes day to day. That’s why….

There are no rules of parenting. None. Don’t listen to anyone who claims they have any. Sleep with your baby or don’t sleep with your baby. Breast feed or don’t breast feed. Go to the beach, or not. Do you. Do her. Do whatever you need to do to keep that baby happy. That is all.

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During mealtime, E often puts Q on his lap and sits at the kitchen counter with her (at a safe distance away from any splattering pans or sharp knives). She watches intently as veggies get chopped and tossed into bowls. She’s enthralled by the shapes and the colors, and sometimes she smacks her lips (not sure if that’s an involuntary response or a voluntary, approving gesture or her telling us she’s hungry, but it’s cute and it’s worth reporting). She’s still a few weeks away from trying her first solid foods. But she knows it’s coming. And she’s excited that they’re coming.

Time in the kitchen with Q is  about entertaining a little human being who’s only been on this earth for four months and is bewildered by every new thing she sees. It’s about introducing this little person to vegetables, to fruits, to meats. It’s teaching her about colors, shapes, sounds, and eventually tastes through cooking. When I see her look intently at every move I make while I’m in the kitchen, my heart flutters. I must admit, it’s a better feeling that when E reacted to the first time I made a sandwich.

When Q watches, I slowly narrate everything I’m doing (“I’m going to toss the tomatoes into the pan and sautéed them”; “I’m chopping peppers for the chili because it’s delicious.”). It’s like being on a cooking show but with a much smaller, pickier, audience with a less developed palate.

Right now, the only thing I make for Q is formula, but I can’t wait to make her first meals—she’s going to start on pureed vegetables in a few weeks. E and I are already debating which veggie to start with first ( I vote carrots–bright in color, neutral in taste).  It will be fun to test out different fruits and veggies every day and watch her reaction. Will she love sweet potatoes as we do? Will she despise parsnips (E will be so disappointed–he loves them). Either way, I can’t wait to help her discover her palate.

Until then, Q, enjoy this hand crafted bottle of formula I spend all day slaving over.

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I was living in a basement floor studio on the Upper East Side. E lived in the East Village in a well-lit third floor studio.
I was single and had several bad breakups in a row. So had E.
I had hair that was 6 inches longer. So did E.
I spent most of my time in nightclubs and at parties working for this place. E spent most of his time traveling, or planning to travel.
I didn’t cook dinner for myself more than once a month. E cooked for himself every night.
I had a dog. I did not have a child. E had neither.
I had both parents. So did E.

This month, we celebrated 6 year together. Six years of laughs, of travels, of eating, of love and tears and books and movies and life.And sandwiches.
We moved in together. We cooked. We had parties. We ate out and dined in. We started a blog about our relationship and I learned to cook. We got engaged. We got married. We had a beautiful, healthy daughter. We traveled around the world. We’ve lived a lot of life in 6 years.

To celebrate…. well.

Um….

I’d love to say we went to our favorite restaurant to eat the dishes we always order, feeding each other over glasses of chardonnay and kissing in between courses. I’d love to say that was followed by a night of dancing at our favorite club, followed by a marathon baby making session until the early morning, followed by heart shaped homemade whole wheat waffles.

But it’s nearly three weeks after our official anniversary date, and we’ve only managed to go out to lunch in the neighborhood with the baby. Which was just as loving and just as memorable, even if we had a third wheel with us.

I didn’t make a celebratory batch of heart-shaped anything for E. I did give him a kiss open mouthed on the lips.

But when I did kiss him, and every kiss thereafter, I kissed him as if it were our anniversary. I send a prayer of gratitude to this life we’ve created together. I enjoy every cup of coffee, every meal, every kernel of popcorn during another night of Netflix and Parenting as if it were a special occasion. I celebrate our lives every day. Because my god we’ve worked hard for it. And I’m grateful for each new day and adventure with E (and Q).

Here’s to what our lives together will hold for the next 6, 16 and  60 years. May it be full of more love, laughs, travels and food. And wine. And heart-shaped homemade waffles.

photo by K. Hadavi

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My mom and I are extremely close. She’s caring, loving, funny and protective. She taught me to be strong but cautious, to love your family and friends but always put yourself first. She wanted me to explore the world, have a career, experience life, but she was always there to hold me when I was hurt, physically or emotionally. She was here for a month when Q was first born, taking care of me as much as she took care of the baby. My favorite memories of that time are her and I and Q cuddled in my bed watching tv, looking for holiday gifts and giggling about the local news and celebrity gossip and Q’s funny faces while the baby slept in her Boppy in front of us.

Of course there were things mom did and said that I didn’t understand when I was younger. I rolled my eyes when she said to always keep a “diddy bag” or to always repay a good deed right away, but I did it because she said so. I thought it was a bit overzealous that she never let her car have less than a half a tank of gas, or the fact that she never went to sleep until I got home at night—even after I had moved out on my own and lived hundreds of miles away. But now, as a mother myself, I understand everything. And I love her even more.

Mom and I still talk almost every day, and I try to make sure we Facetime with the baby for most of those conversations. On Sundays, though we miss each other dearly, it tends to be the day that we’re both either so busy with errands or so exhausted from running errands all weekend that we’re least likely to chat. For some reason, I was craving chicken cacciatore for dinner, and with this winter weather I have been in a soup mood. So I threw chicken, tomatoes, peppers, onions and a bunch of herbs into a Crock-Pot and let it cook for a few hours to make chicken cacciatore soup. While it stewed, I cuddled with the baby and texted photos of Q to my mom.

Though we’re far away, thankfully technology can bring mom and I into the same kitchen as if I were a kid again. If I want to cook with mom, all we have to do is call. Guess this is how family dinners are done in the generation of Snapchat and Facebook.

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Temperature wise, it was nose-numbing cold outside. E and I only left the house (separately) to go to the gym and get groceries, but it was too cold to take little Q anywhere with us. Poor little baby hasn’t left the house in more than a week because I don’t want her to turn into an icicle from exposure to that Northeast air. Makes me long for the days we were in DR, doing feedings and diaper changes on lounge chairs by the beach.

Rather than go out, E and I were entertained inside by Q’s developmental strides. Q turns four months old this week, and she’s getting good use of her hands, reaching out and grasping what she can–a bottle, my nose, E’s hair. She’s turning over on her belly from her back. She laughs when I kiss her belly or play “peekaboo” with her. And she’s super verbal—no words yet, but lots of murmuring and imitating noises we make to her. We watch Q for hours on end—we canceled cable at our house because we spend all of our time watching this little baby do baby things.

In between feedings and play time with Q, we meal prepped our lunches for the week. I was craving turkey chili, because I wanted a hearty, meaty, stick to your ribs meal that would warm the insides. This super easy version only takes about 30 minutes from start to serving, and requires just one pot to cook. The less time I spent cleaning, the better. That’s more time watching Q stare at her own feet.

While I chopped vegetables for the chili, I looked over at Q on her activity floor mat, reaching her soft toys dangling above her forehead smiling and giggling. You just can’t get that kind of dinner entertainment by eating out.

*these also make great wraps if you stuff the inside of a pita or a flatbread with the chili on top of greens, with a sprinkle of cheese.

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Before Q arrived, E and I used to make breakfast each morning, sipping coffee over egg sandwiches or shakshuka or whole wheat waffles before we went to work. Now E and I spend the a.m. making bottles and changing diapers. And cuddling. Lots of cuddling. An absurd amount of cuddling. We barely have time for coffee, and we only make that happen because we wouldn’t be able to keep our eyes open long enough to change a diaper, let alone go to work, if we didn’t.

One thing that makes a quick breakfast on the go are these sweet potato brownies we’ve become obsessed with. They’re made with good stuff like sweet potatoes, coconut oil, whole wheat flour and honey and they taste just like fudge-y gooey brownies when they’re done. They’re super easy to make and last through the week, we might be out of brownies by the time the weekend arrives, but by then we have more time to make a decent breakfast.

Well Plated has a great recipe, which E and I have tweaked and doubled to make more brownies. You can bake them up in a baking pan and cut them into squares, but E and I also like to scoop a batch into muffin tins for grab and go muffin at the ready.

H/t to Well Plated, who has more delish recipes here.

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