Category Archives: Child rearing

Kaia’s caterpillar worries

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After 17 years of living on my own, not in my parents’ house, and no longer in college, I have finally found the optimal way to store basil to keep it fresh for as long as possible: place the stems in a tall glass with some water and position them like they’re a bouquet. Then lightly drape a plastic bag over them. Replenish the water every day, ensuring that none of the leaves are submerged. Somehow, with this process, I was able to keep my Thai basil stems fresh for seven days; on day 7, they looked like they were just as fresh as on day 1!

The basil I had was so fresh that somehow, for seven days, a little caterpillar was able to rest and stay alive on its stems that long. I didn’t even catch it until today when I was replenishing the water in the glass, and I found that the caterpillar was crawling off a stem on my kitchen counter. I immediately looked at it, realized what it was, and then told Kaia to come look; I wasn’t sure she had ever seen a real caterpillar before. The only “encounter” she’d had with a caterpillar was in Eric Carle’s famous book, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, which she loves and has read on repeat for the last two years. When she came over to look at the caterpillar, she examined it closely and started smiling. Then, Kaia ran into her bedroom, grabbed her copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, and then brought it over. She held the book next to the real caterpillar and said, “They aren’t the same!” I told her that they weren’t the same, but they were, in fact, moving the same way.

A bit later, I told her we had to release the caterpillar outside to make sure it got some food and could be free. She waved “bye bye!” to the caterpillar as I released it into a bush. We went about our day outside.

Later that evening, after we had finished bedtime stories and I tucked her in, I kissed her good night and left her room. About an hour later, she slowly opened her bedroom door and had a sad face.

“What is it, Pooks?” I asked her. “What’s wrong?”

Kaia hesitated for a second and then whispered, “I want to know what happened to the caterpillar. Is it okay?”

I brought her back to bed and tucked her in once again, and I assured her that the caterpillar was doing just fine. I’m sure he had something to eat and was probably also getting ready for bed, as well, as all living things had to sleep.

She then did her “side eye” thinking face and said in Chinese, “Does he also need to shower and brush his teeth?”

Yes, I said, I’m sure he does his version of both.

She smiled. “Okay. Good night, mummy! Bye bye!”

My sweet, caring Kaia Pookie. Her empathy and thoughtfulness never cease to amaze me as it appears in different forms. I imagined her lying in bed for that last hour, worrying about the little caterpillar friend we had set free almost 10 hours before. It was so sweet. Her innocence always warms my heart.

Grandparenting in the current era

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The Atlantic recently wrote a piece about how “grandparenting,” or specifically, “grandmothering” is on the rise. When they say this, what they mean is that active parenting by a grandparent, mostly a grandmother, has increased notably in recent times due to the shortage of reliable and affordable childcare, soaring costs of living, and the mandatory need given the soaring cost of living for dual-income households in the U.S. This has made parents of the current generation apply more pressure on their parents to help raise their own children. This is most definitely something I see across a majority of parents of a similar age to me: most of my friends with kids have a parent look after their child(ren) for at least 1-2 days a week, without them there. We have a friend whose in-laws not only pick up their two kids from preschool at 2:50 every weekday, but also take them overnight two nights a week; those same grandparents take the two kids to Michigan during the summer where their other son and his children are — for two months; that is two months that my friend doesn’t see (or have to parent) his own children, time he gets to himself and to himself plus his wife. These grandparents play an active role in their grandchildren’s upbringing, not just having fun with them and getting to know them inside out, but also being a second set of parents to them.

I was thinking about this today as I watched Chris’s parents struggle to wrangle Kaia around, whether it was on the sidewalk, on the street, or in stores. A couple times I told Chris’s dad to walk with Kaia, and as per usual, he would barely hear me, and Kaia would run off on her own without him even noticing. In the end, I’d have to run off after her. In other cases, Chris’s mom struggled to run after her to keep up, and Kaia succeeded at keeping her grandma on her toes. Back when Kaia was in her diapers era, Chris’s dad wouldn’t even want to be in the room when a diaper change was happening; Chris’s mom would only do it if Chris or I wasn’t there. During their very first visit to New York after Kaia was born, when Kaia was about five months old, when I was working from home and Chris was at the office, and they were meant to babysit while our then-nanny was on vacation, Chris’s mom would come into the room when I was working and announce that Kaia needed a diaper change. The implication here was that I needed to stop what I was doing to change her diaper since I was there (who cares that I was actually working… since I was, you know, at home?). Now that Kaia is potty trained (but still isn’t equipped to wipe herself or wash her hands without assistance), neither of them has offered to help with the potty visits, either during our visit to Australia in December, or now. Granted, they aren’t used to being around her all the time, definitely are not used to helping someone during potty time, or seeing exactly how much she loves to run around and be cheeky, but they could in no way keep up with her. I am positive that if they had to look after her for even one day a week on their own, they’d likely leave her in their own house so they wouldn’t have to worry about the threat of getting lost in a store or, in the absolute worst case, the chance of getting hit by a car or bicyclist.

Chris’s mom always used to tell friends, family, and us that if we lived in Melbourne, she would have loved to be a full-time care taker to Kaia once we went back to work after family leave. But the thing is — you can certainly assume you want things in theory, but in practice, it’s never as simple or easy as it seems in your head. In theory, lots of things sound nice. In real life, it’s a completely different story. As we all get older, our physical and mental abilities get more limited. We tire more easily. We have less energy. And frankly, there just may be less stamina to run after a boisterous, rebellious little toddler than you had originally assumed.

“Daddy, clap my butt!” and other fun toddler moments with Kaia Pookie

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We were on the train coming back home from Bensonhurst on Saturday, and Kaia was sitting at the window seat on the train. Then, she decided to stand to see the view (she loves the “view,” even when we’re underground in the tunnel and can see nothing. But she does get very excited when she sees trains passing us and tries to identify which train number/letter it is). Kaia started acting cheeky, as per usual, and wiggled her butt and danced on the seat. And while we’re having mindless chit chat, she suddenly started sticking her butt out very conspicuously and said, “Daddy, clap my butt! Mummy, clap my butt!” And she started clapping her butt with her own hands and giggling hysterically.

There are a lot of things you can get away with as a child of her age in both behavior and speech. If I said the same thing at my current age, it would likely elicit confusion and annoyance. This is one of those moments that not only elicited lots of smiles from surrounding passengers, but it even got a rider sitting in front of Kaia to text her friend to tell her about the “adorable toddler” sitting behind her who was singing and dancing (I just happened to see this when Kaia was leaning over towards this person’s side, and I saw her text message very clearly near Kaia’s face as I gazed over).

Another fun thing that Kaia has been doing with me is we’ve been “eating” each other. Ever since she was a newborn, I’ve been obsessed with her little fingers and little “toesies,” and before she lost a lot of her baby fat, I could not get enough of staring and lightly squeezing the rolls that were her little “wrists” and “ankles.” When I’ve given her a bath or shower, I always say, “Mumma loves Kaia’s toesies! I’m going to eat your toesies.” And then, I say, “Mumma loves this toesie, and this toesie, and this toesie, and this toesie, and this toesie!” after reaching her last toe on a foot. Then, I go onto the next foot and their set of toes. I occasionally say, “Mmmmmm, Kaia’s toesies are yummy! I’m gonna eat your toesies!” To which she always shrieks and giggles with delight. Lately, she’s been answering back: “Mummy! You can’t eat me! I’m not food!” And then I say in response, “Haha, yes, you are! I’m gonna eat you right now!” Then, I nibble her hand or fingers or toes or foot. She goes into her hysterical laughter. But then she tries to eat me. She insists that her mummy is food! So, she’ll take my fingers or even my face and lips and start nibbling away. I love this pretend mummy-and-daughter-eating-each-other session. Yes, it sounds slightly cannibalistic. Yes, I can also see how it can come across as sexual. But either way, it’s done with lots of fun and deep affection.

Today while riding back home from school, Kaia was in a really happy and chipper mood. In her after school program, they are learning lots of nursery rhymes in Chinese, and one of them is the Chinese version of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” She decided to loudly start singing Chinese “Twinkle Twinkle,” and then I joined in and we sang it together. It became apparent very quickly that there were at least four other female riders, all separate, who started taking an interest in looking at and listening to Kaia. All were smiling and some were even humming along. And when Kaia finished the song, they all started clapping and telling Kaia, “Good job!” Kaia did her usual thing: out of nowhere, when she realizes that she has attention, she starts getting “fake shy” and starts burying her head into my stomach or chest. She did this a couple times when people started waving to her and saying hi, and then she started giggling hysterically and waving back to them.

When we first decided to enroll Kaia at her Chinese immersion school downtown in Manhattan Chinatown, a part of me dreaded the daily subway commute. It obviously wasn’t going to be as convenient as anything walking distance from us. But now I realize that this decision was beneficial in so many more ways than just having more exposure to Chinese language and culture: she just loves everything about the subway and people watching. She has more practice walking, running, and going up and down stairs. It’s great for her to be around so many different people and seeing people like this every day. And for me personally, I love observing her on the train and watching her interact with others on the subway. I love these moments of watching her grow and mature and getting comfortable with subway travel. She’s a true New York City baby.

Differing approaches to parenting regarding choking hazards

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Today, Kaia and I met up with a friend and his daughter, who is about eight months younger than Kaia, for lunch and an outing to Central Park. As we were getting settled in and after we ordered our food, Kaia asked for a snack. So I whipped out a bag of unsalted peanuts that I packed for her. I laid some out on her plate, and she started grabbing them and stuffing them in her mouth.

As soon as my friend saw the nuts on Kaia’s plate, his eyes widened, an apparent frown showed up on his face, and he raised his voice. “Wait, you’re giving her peanuts?” he exclaimed. “Really?”

Initially, I wasn’t sure what he was reacting to. Did he object to peanuts or legumes as a snack? Did he think it was unhealthy? Or did he perceive it to be a choking hazard?

“Yes… What’s wrong with peanuts?” I said, confused, handing Kaia more when she asked for more. “They’re unsalted, and they’re a healthy source of protein and a whole food. What’s wrong with peanuts?”

“All right, then,” he said. After I pushed him for his objection, he said he thought nuts were a choking hazard up until age 5, so even though most of the peanuts were halved, he still didn’t trust giving them to his daughter. I offered to share some with his daughter, and he vigorously waved his hand to indicate he didn’t want her to eat them. I tried to tell him that every child is different, and obviously you need to know your own child and what they are capable of…. plus, you also have to be comfortable feeding your child of a young age whatever it is they are eating. He waved me off, clearly not wanting to talk about this. He told me he knew of a kid in another classmate’s previous class who had choked to death on a whole nut. He cited another article he read about another kid choking on other similarly sized foods. And he said he’d only allow his child to eat a peanut if I broke it into a sixth of a piece. I think at this point, we were nearing the point of insanity, but I refrained from making this comment. His daughter is almost three years old, and I’d seen her eat far larger things in my presence. I think this level of overprotection was just too much, but again, I said nothing to contest it.

“I didn’t realize you were this cautious with her eating,” I said, still confused. “I have offered nuts to her before when (your wife) was around, and she was happy to let her eat them. In fact, she ate them back then! I think they were cashew halves.”

He shrugged. “Well, I’m not having any more kids, so this is all I’ve got!” I looked at him with a slight eye roll; yeah, because I’m planning to have boat loads more kids after Kaia!

In general, I’ve never really said anything with friends who have young kids when I don’t agree with their approaches or what they do with parenting or feeding. I never said anything when I’d seen him or his wife previously spoon feeding their daughter purees even though I strongly believe in baby-led weaning; granted, I am biased, though, because Kaia ultimately decided on that path. I offered her miniature versions of our food and purees at the same time when she was sixth months of age; she categorically refused the purees and leapt right into hand held foods and never looked back. I never said anything when I saw their pouch consumption be pretty frequent, or when they refused to let even a grain of refined sugar into her diet (at least, to their knowledge).

Parents have to make their own choices for their kids, and I totally respect that; but what I get confused about is when people think that I am in some way being reckless or irresponsible in my own parenting choices, or as though I am trying to put my kid at risk of choking and dying. I started preparing for introducing my child to solid foods before I was even pregnant! I did so much research, and I read so many studies. I coached my own child through eating solids from day 1 and watched and observed her like a hawk. Frankly, I am the reason she is the great little eater she is today. I know my child better than anyone else when it comes to food preferences and eating abilities. Kaia was hand feeding herself at age 6 months. She was eating hot spices at age 7 months. She was eating chicken off the bone at 7-8 months and navigating all the bones and cartilage at age 1-1.5. She was devouring pretty much every vegetable in her baby months. She was eating whole grapes at age 2; she started picking around a cherry pit at age 2.5. With eating, she has always been advanced for her age both in skill and in wide preferences for what she will eat. Food has for obvious reasons been a huge priority in my parenting with her, as I want her to flourish in her tastes and abilities with eating. So I think I’d be the best person to make the call on whether she can eat whole or half peanuts or not. I also think you kind of have to put your kid in somewhat challenging situations so they can learn and figure it out. When Kaia started picking out cartilage and bone pieces from bone-in chicken thighs and drumsticks, that’s when I knew that she could handle more “questionable” foods. Plus, it’s always with our supervision.

I am not a fan of helicopter parenting and strongly dislike overly cautious approaches to parenting in any form — food or non food. But hey, I’ll let my friends do whatever the hell they want — as long as they let me do what I want with my own kid.

“Nosey, facey, huggie, kissie”

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Since Kaia was a baby, she’s always been affectionate and craved affection. We’ve been giving hugs and kisses often and always, and we’ve always communicated that via English and Chinese. When she crawls into our bed in the wee hours of the morning now, she will demand “Cuddle! Cuddle!” to me, which I find very sweet and endearing, but Chris insists is controlling and manipulative. Well, potato, po-TA-toe!

But what is really cute is that she’s also embraced what I call “face kissing,” “nose kissing,” and “eye kissing.” “Face kissing” is basically what you see lions do with each other — they rub their cheeks against their young or loved ones as a sign of affection. “Nose kissing” is rubbing one’s nose against the other, as though you are shaking your head, just with your noses rubbing. And “eye kissing” is getting your eye closed and close to the other person’s eye and rubbing it. I am working on getting her to do “eyelash” kisses, but we’re not quite there yet. She loves doing these three types of “kissing” along with regular kisses and hugs. And she’s even gone ahead and renamed them: nose kissing is now “nosey,” face kissing is “facey.” She also added an “eee” sound to hugs and kisses, so when we are leaving each other, she asks for “huggie!” and “kissie!”

I love her excitement at these little signs of affection, and I love even more how she renames them to things that she likes. I thought about all the words she has mispronounced since starting to speak at about age 9-10 months, and I think about the bits of sadness I felt when she started saying the words correctly. It really made me feel this one Instagram post that said this:

“One day, they mispronounce a word in the cutest way, and you never want to correct it. Then, without a warning, they say it right. And just like that, a tiny piece of childhood slips away.”

I still remember (and luckily, have video recordings of her saying) words like “bluey” for blueberry, “manga” for mango, and even the way she used to say, “ah- MO!” for “more.” I don’t even remember the time she switched from “ah-MO!” to a properly pronounced “more?!” But I loved every minute of it. And now, I love that she actually knows she’s not saying the “right” words, but in fact, she’s aware we’re “making up” words for these cute things we do together, like “facey” and “nosey.” These little moments make me unbelievably happy, like so happy sometimes that I feel I could burst. Sometimes, I really just cannot believe how lucky I am to have these sweet little human in my life. Every time I think that, I realize (and think) how crazy that is given people get pregnant and give birth to babies literally every single day. But I know I am still lucky regardless, because knock on wood, Kaia is healthy and happy and growing, and I am privileged to be her mama.

Kaia drags her friends and cow costume around all over the house

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Since Kaia was just shy of two years old, she started developing an attachment to her Peter Rabbit stuffed animal. Prior to that, she did not care about any stuffed animal at all. Peter Rabbit traveled with us to multiple places, always at Kaia’s side. Then, she eventually got bored of him and stopped caring. She goes in and out with attachments to random stuffed animals she has, whether it’s Lychee, her rainbow build-a-bear, Irene, her teething bunny stuffed animal, or Simon, a monkey that Chris’s friend got her this last Australia visit. But I’d say that since October of last year, when Chris introduced her to her cow costume for Halloween, that’s when she REALLY got attached to something. That cow costume goes all over this apartment, and she oftentimes will snuggle and sleep with it. When she comes over to our bed at some point in the night, she always, always drags the cow costume over, as well.

Last night, she dragged the cow costume to our bed but forgot about Irene at around 5am when she came over. And she started whining, “Irene! Irene! I want Irene!” She says this expecting that I will go grab it for her. So, I do the mommy thing and go to her room and grab Irene. And then she snuggles both and falls asleep in our bed, right between us, until about 7am.

It’s really cute and sweet to see her attachments to these objects, these “friends” who give her comfort. It’s always a little adventure to see what attachments she has, lets go of, and what she moves onto. It’s one of the little joys of watching her grow up and evolve that I love observing.

Toddler cuteness elicits freebies and kindnesses everywhere we go

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The very rare times I encounter rude people in public, whether it’s on the streets or on the subway while with Kaia, I always quickly remind myself that those rude moments, those annoying, un-empathetic people, are the exception to the rule. The vast majority of the time, people are neutral to friendly to over the top kind. Once last week, Chris forgot to refill our OMNY card for the week, and I didn’t realize this. When I take her through the turnstiles, I usually have Kaia duck her head and go under the turnstile, and then I quickly tap to enter. But given the OMNY card wasn’t refilled, it gave me a red error message and said that I could not go through. I immediately realized the card wasn’t topped up, and given Kaia was standing all by herself on the other side of the turnstiles waiting for me, I got nervous she would run off and didn’t feel comfortable going out to look for an OMNY refill kiosk. So I just tapped my phone to pay for a swipe and entered. But that entire time, Kaia realized something was wrong. Instead of running off, she just kept peering over at me, saying several times, “What happened? What’s wrong? It’s not working.” And that whole time, a caring woman inside the station, who had observed the whole situation, lightly hovered over Kaia to protect her and make sure she did not run away from me.

Another day on the subway to school, the train was packed. Kaia wanted to sit on an open middle seat. Both men in the two surrounding seats got up and asked me to sit. I told both of them thank you, but that wasn’t necessarily, and I certainly did NOT need two seats for myself!

Another toddler tantrum occurred just a block away from our apartment earlier this week. Kaia sat on the ground and refused to walk. She said she wanted chocolate and that she was “too tired” to walk. I tried every threat and bribe I could think of over five minutes, but she would not yield. Another kind woman came up to us, clearly coming back home from work, and said hi to Kaia, and suggested that she go home with her. When she tried to pick Kaia up, Kaia screamed and yelled. But eventually, Kaia got up and started walking with me.

I guess in some ways, you could say that these total strangers, these fellow New Yorkers, are like the extended “village” that Chris, Kaia, and I have. We don’t know each other. We likely would never recognize the other if our paths crossed again. But at the end of the day, we’re all people just trying to live our lives to the best of our ability, and that means just being kind when we can to others, even if we don’t know each other. I always think of these moments when people joke or actually say that New Yorkers are rude or mean, or that people must just be out for themselves in this concrete jungle.

Today, while we were out exploring another part of Forest Hills we haven’t seen before, we popped into an Italian bakery so that Chris could try one of their hot cross buns. Like many Italian bakeries, this bakery had a huge spread of beautiful cookies that you could buy and pay for by the weight — it ranged from rainbow cookies, jam-thumb print cookies, to biscotti and the related. Kaia got excited when she saw all the cookies and declared she wanted some. Chris did not take well to this and said, “No cookies,” and walked out with his hot cross bun. Kaia was unhappy and started whining. The woman behind the counter, taking pity on Kaia, told Kaia that she could pick which cookie she liked best, and she would get one. Kaia chose the black and white checkerboard cookie, and when I reached into my wallet to pay, the woman insisted it was on the house. “It’s for sweet baby,” she insisted. “No money needed! I just want to make her happy!”

I wonder when the “toddler/young child cuteness yields free stuff” will end, and when Kaia’s freebies and constant acts of kindness on the part of strangers will end. I hope the latter never ends for her, regardless of her age or the chubbiness of her face.

Building play date with a new friend and neighbor

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Just over a month ago, we were in our building pool with Kaia when we met another neighbor, a woman with her toddler aged son, who is about 4-5 months younger than Kaia. We made some small talk, and she suggested that we do a play date since we’re right in the same building. I left my name and number with the lifeguard (since she didn’t have her phone with her), and we went on our way. I didn’t think much of it, but as usual, hoped for the best.

I’ve tried to arrange play dates/meetups with several parents and their children who are near in age to Kaia. For the most part, it has not worked out. One dad, who was very kind and who I liked — he actually was proactive and texted me for a play date. But we quickly realized that his son was pretty aggressive and did NOT like Kaia. So, that fizzled out really quickly. Everyone else has always said they’d reach out for a play date… it’s never happened. It’s always been me, texting to ask, and then getting rejected. What is also common is that we’ll happen to pass by each other somewhere in the building, and they’ll make some empty comment like, “let’s do a play date when you’re free!” And then never, ever follow up on it. Then, you add the fact that most parents at Kaia’s school rarely want to interact with me in the corridor (one dad was shocked I remembered his name. He still can never remember my name), and they’re oftentimes just glued to their phones until the doors open for drop-off or pick-up. Becoming a parent in New York City has certainly NOT opened the doors to new-friends-making, unfortunately. This is especially annoying to think about when I hear about my friends in Long Island or San Francisco, and they say they hang out regularly with the parents of their kids’ friends, even when the kids aren’t there! I can’t help but be a bit envious and wonder why it doesn’t seem as easy for me here.

Well, the neighbor did message me! We ended up having a brief play date (derailed, as per usual, by a nap that went awry) today in the play room and lounge rooms. And we had a pretty nice conversation that was a little bit about everything: New York, how we met our spouses, cultural nuances, parents, parenting styles, cooking, toddler recipes and habits, travel, work, kids, our road to kids (IVF for both, and she’s even a fertility doctor, aka a reproductive endocrinologist!). She was also just very polite and thanked me at the end for always pronouncing her name correctly (she is Turkish from Turkey). She seemed to enjoy our time together and suggested we meet up again once they are back from some spring break travels. We’ve already organized our next play date once they are back. And she suggested that once the roof deck opens up that we all meet up with our spouses for food and drinks on a warm day.

It’s funny being in my late 30s now and seeing how I jive with other “potential” friends. It’s almost like dating, but for friends. You never know if you are going to get along with someone and “click,” and even if you think you both do, they could have a totally different opinion and either never want to see you again or just do the dick thing of simply ghosting you.

So, if I get lucky, maybe I will finally have a real building friend after living in this building for almost eight years now!

“Daddy is SO mad at you!”

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My mom called the other day to tell me that while she and my dad enjoy the videos I send of Kaia, my dad was apparently very mad at me regarding one specific video.

“Your Daddy is SO mad at you!” my mom exclaimed on the phone the other day. “What in the world are you doing giving Kaia a knife to use? She could seriously hurt herself!”

My mom was referring to the video I took of Kaia on Sunday while we were cooking together. I had laid out king oyster mushrooms on my cutting board and was getting ready to cut them. She saw that I was about to start cutting and got really excited, so she dragged out her stepping stool so that she could “help” me. I relented, and I took out her plastic toddler training knives (key word is PLASTIC) and let her cut some of them. She loves being mummy’s little kitchen helper. Yes, she does slow me down a lot, and yes, she doesn’t cut the way I’d like her to cut, but I love watching her focus, and I love seeing her face when she does a decent cut. She has to learn at some point, so I think this is a good time when she actually does want to help and shows interest. She was enjoying being my kitchen helper, constantly looking back up at me for my approval and response, and continued cutting. It’s hard to say “no” to such eager eyes.

I told my mom that they were both being ridiculous, that the knife was meant to be a toddler training knife and was made of plastic. So no matter what Kaia did, there was zero chance she could get hurt.

“It doesn’t matter!” my mom insisted. “She could still hurt herself!”

You could hear the logic in that response. Of course it doesn’t matter… because she doesn’t realize that she’s being called out for being wrong in her assumption, and she’s never wrong in her head, even in senseless moments like this. I told Chris this anecdote, to which he replied, “I’m not going to take advice from someone who has a dead kid and who only has a 50% success rate at raising kids.”

Chocolate smeared everywhere

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On Sunday, I indulged Kaia and made some chocolate banana mini muffins. Chocolate is likely her favorite thing in the entire world now (and can you blame her?), so as soon as she sees or hears about chocolate anything, she wants in on it. I had some very dark chocolate chopped up in a jar that I’ve used here and there for baking, so I decided to throw that into the chocolate banana muffin batter, along with some (sugarless) cocoa powder. The batter was already low sugar (sweetened with just a splash of maple syrup, plus very overripe bananas), but I made it even healthier by replacing the called-for all purpose flour with half whole wheat, half ground oats. I figured some chocolate in there would only do some good.

I had one to sample, and I was quite impressed. For something so healthy, it tasted quite indulgent. And Kaia certainly felt the same way. She wolfed down three in one go before I had to cut her off. I packed some for our ride back home from school today. I came prepared with wet wipes in tow. She proceeded to eat all three I packed in a Stasher bag quite gingerly, knowing she had just three and would have none left after she was done. She also proceeded to smear chocolate literally everywhere she could — on her backpack straps, her jacket, the subway seat, and even the subway window. My wipes went to cleaning far more than just her face and hands…

That’s the youthful bliss of being a baby or toddler, though. You are blessed to have zero self awareness of or aversion to mess or dirt, and instead, you fully embrace the moment and “get in there” with whatever delicious food you are presented with. Sometimes, I wish I could eat with that much relish and abandon even now.