After her bath, Baguette loves to brush her teeth. I should probably say that she loves to “brush” her teeth, because mostly what she does is swish the toothbrush around her mouth, alternating with waving it under the running water. And what I really should say is that she loves to stand on a stepladder in front of the sink with the water running. “Brushing” is really just an activity that gives her the excuse to do that.
She also enjoys eating a lot of toothpaste, one pea-sized dollop at a time. I’m really glad that I got her the fluoride-free kind–but it still says to supervise her in order to minimize swallowing. To which I say: Yeah, right. Like I can control that.
What’s really gross is that even though she has three–THREE–toothbrushes of her own, in various sizes, she keeps using mine. I love her beyond measure. But yuck.
Another way to pass time in front of running water is to comb her hair. This is accomplished by passing the comb under the water and then using it to comb her hair forward across her face. Naturally, this is best done after I have dried her hair, so that it is soaking again.
Which brings me to something I really can’t believe: I use leave-in conditioner on Baguette’s hair. And I blow it dry. Both of these seem ridiculous to me. But the first makes it easier to comb her hair (better than the Johnson’s No More Tangles I remembered from my own childhood and started using on her once her hair was long enough to comb), and the second means that she’s not going to bed with wet hair and sleeping on a soggy pillow as a result.
But mostly I want her to understand that she can be just like Mommy without using Mommy’s toothbrush. I really, really want her to understand that.
Photo by JMaz Photo, via Flickr.
As a newborn, Baguette hated sponge baths. They were an affront to humanity. Then she graduated to the whale tub with its infant insert. And she hated it. Last summer, with much trepidation, we introduced her to the pool.
And she loved it.
We decided that maybe we had to make the tub more like a pool. So we filled it deeper and started referring to it as the “pool-tub.”
Then she hated it.
For about the past six weeks, though, we’ve been in a new phase. Baths are one of her favorite things. She will even ask for “Bubbles!” And we have finally been able to make baths part of her evening routine, instead of a regular source of conflict. Because you can’t just let kids go about unbathed forever.
She loves them so much, in fact, that we’ve had to come up with a code word so that we can refer to them without raising her immediate expectations. And that word is SCUBA.
Photo by Smabs Sputzer, via Flickr.
That’s what Mr. Sandwich has given me so far, with every grand gesture and every small kindness. Happy Anniversary, sweetheart. There’s no one I’d rather pedal uphill with.
Like Tragic Sandwich here? Now you can like me on Facebook, too!
Of course, I’m still on Twitter and Pinterest as well.
I don’t know if that’s too much Tragic, but it may be too much Sandwich. Choose your poison, and don’t say I didn’t warn you.
No title, but if I were going to provide one, I guess it would be “Pinhead” at Awkward Stock Photos
Some of these are NSFW. Even without those, I wonder what all of these people were thinking.
Grilled Cheese Invitational
A grilled cheese sandwich competition? Who’s not in? (Besides vegans and the lactose intolerant, that is.)
Lessons in Gratitude at Practical Parenting
Suggestions on how to teach children about gratitude (and how to focus on the positive).
Eye of the Riley at YouTube
A corgi hikes in Runyon Canyon. Video ensues.
11 Hilarious “Mad Men” Parody Twitter Accounts at Mashable
Season Five of Mad Men starts tonight!
Photo by Bleschi, courtesy of Flickr.
Last night we went to the grocery store. Baguette hates going to the grocery store, but she loves being there. And who wouldn’t? There’s so much to look at. She ran around (we are careful to go when it’s not too busy) and repeatedly exclaimed, “Wow! Food!”
While I checked out, Mr. Sandwich followed Baguette on her continued explorations. As I loaded the bags into the cart, I saw them standing next to a grandfatherly security guard, who took one of the free balloons off of the display and handed it to Baguette. And from across the room, I heard her trill, “Ten-tu!”
Afterward, Mr. Sandwich and I commented on how pleased we were that she’d said thank you (normally, this is a statement she reserves for the drive-through window). Mr. Sandwich said, “The security guard was charmed.”
I replied, “And that’s when she began her career as an international jewel thief, eluding capture because she’s so appreciative and polite.”
That’s right, Your Honor. My daughter is The Thank-You Bandit.
Photo by Jerry Downs, via Flickr.
Monday morning I folded the sofa bed back up and discovered that one of the legs has broken.
We’ll have to buy a replacement; in the meantime, we’ll be jury-rigging the broken leg. If we don’t, how will we get Baguette to nap on the weekend? But I’m a bit sad, because I do love this couch, and it’s only about 13 years old. That doesn’t seem that old for a couch.
But nostalgia won’t weld metal, and last night Mr. Sandwich and I agreed that it was time for a “sofa fund.”
Come on, tax refund!
And this, apparently, is me:
Courtesy of Visual.ly
I am not a runner. Now, perhaps you are thinking, “But, Tragic Sandwich, your ‘About Me’ page says, ‘I am a lazy triathlete.’ How can you not be a runner?”
Simple, my friend. I pick my triathlons very carefully–sprint class, short distances, flat bike route–and I don’t run. I walk. They don’t disqualify you for walking the run portion. They just eventually close the course. Fortunately, I have always finished before that deadline.
But I am married to a runner, who comes from a family of runners. They run every day. They run in pain. They get up and run on Christmas. BEFORE opening gifts.
And they run marathons. Mr. Sandwich’s father is one of the legacy runners for the L.A. Marathon, which means that he has never missed one. In fact, he’s run somewhere in the neighborhood of 50 marathons. But Mr. Sandwich’s mother doesn’t like the idea of him running them on his own, so for the past decade and a half, Mr. Sandwich has run with him.
Last year, the day of the Marathon featured 50-degree weather and a driving rain that resembled nothing so much as a nor’easter. In L.A. Fortunately, this year the rain came a day early, and race day was just about perfect.
But I’m still glad I wasn’t running it myself.
Leafy branch pendant at Etsy.
It’s taken me a long time to figure out what style of jewelry I like. This is really pretty and fits into the collection I don’t have.
Pride & Prejudice for Babies at Babble.com
Because it’s never too early to start on the classics.
Custom cake at Susiecakes
This cake makes me laugh in a good way.
Easy as Pi on Cake Wrecks
These do not.
Classic Sesame Street: Telly and Itzhak Perlman on YouTube
I love Sesame Street so much that I’m starting to wonder if I’ll keep watching it even after Baguette has moved on to different things.
Photo by piyushthacker, via Flickr.