M-Little has recently added a new and very important accessory to his outdoor kit. Forget snacks or balls or sunhats, what the discerning toddler needs is a stick. Or even better, many sticks, collected in many parks. 

It's all about flexibility, you see. Us adults may think that a stick is a stick, but this boy knows better: there's a stick to suit all moods and tastes.

First, there's the Harry Potter Stick. Perfect for scaring your mates away from the best seats at garden parties.

Then there's the Cave-Boy Twig collection.

And the Gravel-Sorting Stick, for combining two favourite activities in one.

Finally, there's the Philosopher Stick. Which is also Mama's favourite.

I have to start this post with a big, fat admission of guilt: I did not think of these toys or make all of them myself (credit to the fantastic people who did to follow)... But they were simply too lovely and too ingenious not to share!

This kit is perfect for introducing older babies and toddlers to new textures, sounds, colours and smells. All of the items in the kit are made using a combination of recycled materials and pantry staples. Best of all, there are lots of possible variations, so just use what you have at home!

You will need:

thick cardboard
sticky tape (or if your book is very large, sticky-backed plastic)
a hot glue gun (or other strong adhesive)
a hole puncher
a ribbon, cut into two equal lengths
scraps of materials with different textures - bubble wrap, foil, cling film, crinkly paper, various fabrics, bits of wood & laminate flooring, potpourri, dried fruit, sand paper, etc.

Instructions:

1. Cut the cardboard into squares. How large they are depends on how many materials you have to stick in the book! 

2. Reinforce the edges of each square as well as the whole of the first and last pages with sticky tape or sticky-backed plastic. Punch two holes in each page.

3. Stick your materials onto the squares with a hot glue gun. Although optional, it's nice to put similar materials on the same page - fabrics on one page, woods on another, etc.

4. Tie your squares together with the string to form a book.

You will need:

three empty drinks bottles of 500 ml
sticky tape
water
food colouring
dried food - rice, beans, lentils, etc.

Instructions:

1. Clean and dry the bottles thoroughly.

2. Fill 1/5 to 1/4 of each bottle with one material. Add a few drops of food colouring to the bottle containing water.

3. Screw on the bottle tops tightly and secure with lots and lots of sticky tape.

You will need:

an empty, plastic spice jar or probiotic drink bottle
coloured tape
sticky tape
coffee beans
a pin

Instructions:

1. Clean and dry the bottle or jar thoroughly.

2. Fill 1/2 of the bottle or jar with coffee beans.

3. Close the top off with clear sticky tape, then prick holes with a pin.

4. Stick several layers of coloured tape around the top of the bottle or jar.

So who was it that thought of these wonderful toys? M-Little's nursery teachers, who sent him home from the summer party with this lovely gift:

Added to the two big shakers we already had (so I did make something in this post myself!), we now have the perfect, handmade Toddler Sensory Kit.

This! This is my Mummy Does a Victory Dance dish. I know mealtimes shouldn't be about parent power games and toddler tantrums. We've been going to extreme lengths to be utterly relaaaaaaxed about mealtimes. But everyone has their Achilles' heel, and this is mine.

You see, I love aubergine, and then the toddler refused to eat it. I did the obligatory "serve it up ten times before you write it off" thing, and still nothing. He just shudders then flings. 

So what do you do? You hide it. I swore I wouldn't resort to tricks like these, and just let him eat the things he likes. Of which, to be fair to him, there are plenty.

But it's aubergine. And I wasn't convinced he actually dislikes the flavour. So a test was in order: turn it into a delectable, creamy, garlicky, cheesy pasta sauce. Then serve and hope.

He ate it all, even though the flavour and smell of aubergine was definitely still there. 

Mummy victory dance recipe.

Pasta with a Creamy Aubergine, Oregano & Feta Sauce

Serves: 4
Pots/Pans to be washed up afterwards: 3
Prep time: 30 mins
Cooking time: 1 hour

Ingredients:
1 large aubergine
200 g feta cheese, cubed
1 clove garlic, crushed
2 teaspoons dried oregano
350 g pasta
milk
olive oil
salt & pepper

1. Slice the aubergine into 1 cm-thick slices, place in a colander and sprinkle with salt. Leave for 30 minutes to let the salt draw out the bitterness. Preheat oven to 180° C.

2. Rinse and pat dry the aubergine. Place in an oven dish, drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with a teaspoon of oregano. Roast in the oven for 30 minutes, until soft enough to mash with a fork.

3. When the aubergine is almost done, put your pasta on to boil as per the packet instructions. In a small pan, soften the garlic and another teaspoon of oregano in some olive oil. Do not allow the garlic to go brown as it will change the flavour of the dish. 

4. Add 3/4 of the feta cheese and allow to soften. 

5. Take the pan off the heat and add the roasted aubergine. At this point you could:

mash it all up roughly for a coarse sauce
                              OR
use a stick blender to make a creamy sauce

If you went for the creamy sauce, but you then chose to stick in some toasted pitta bread and have it as a dip instead... Well that would not be unreasonable at all.

Otherwise:

6. Thin your sauce with milk, one tablespoon at a time, until you get a consistency you like. It should be creamy  and loose enough to coat the pasta, but not too runny.

7. Season to taste with black pepper and salt (note: feta cheese is already quite salty so you may find you don't need any extra salt).

Serve drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with the remaining feta cheese.

“How is it Thursday already?”

“I’ve achieved nothing this week.”

“We still need to do the x, y and z that have been on the to-do list since January.”

Sound familiar? It’s just chronic, isn’t it, as a parent. It feels like the to-do list adds items to itself when I’m not looking. The pile of bills never gets sorted, the pull-along car I’ve been ‘working on’ for M for months has actually gone backwards (it's missing a wheel), and I barely know what’s going outside my front door, never mind the rest of the world. Work? Ha. Ha. Ha.

And yet it still feels like I’m constantly rushed off my feet. I find it infuriating, this sense that I’m trying to do a million things at once but don’t do any of them properly. I make more lists, more meal plans, more attempts to reorganise my schedule because surely, surely I’m supposed to be able to fit it all in somehow.

Except I never really can. But instead of getting frustrated about it, maybe we simply need a new way to measure our efficiency. Forget new clients won and scientific papers published, here is the amount of work Mr P&P and I shift in an average month:

bottoms wiped: 80

meals prepared: 62

story books read: 56

toddler meltdowns navigated: many many many (and increasing in frequency)

dining tables wiped: 62

floors swept: 8

nappies rinsed: 140

toys tidied away: kilos and kilos

boo-boos kissed better: 90

moments spent worrying: too many to count

snotty noses cleaned: see above

washing-ups done: 36

laundry loads washed and hung and folded and put away: 20

songs sang: 350 at least

pretend coffees drunk: billions I tell you, billions

nursery drop-offs and pick-ups: 32

pokey sticks searched and found: 25

hours spent negotiating with a pint-sized tyrant: never-ending

baths/showers administered: 15-20

ingenious toddler activities dreamed up: 30

Cleaning up this lot takes patience and precision

Oh the ingenuity - who knew toothpicks could be so much fun?

Bonus toddler-entertainment points: stick AND foamy thingies to collect AND a balloon!!!

And all of that despite:

hours spent sleeping: way, way too few…

See? Here at P&P Towers we are the PICTURE OF EFFICIENCY. What amazing feats have you achieved so far this month?

Well. So last week’s meal plan lasted a mere TWO DAYS before we abandoned it with a sweaty, wilting wave of the hand. It was just too damn hot to even contemplate eating, never mind cooking. Fruit, sandwiches, ice cream on the other hand? Yes.

There were some other extenuating circumstances too. On Thursday I spent the whole day in Rome trying to get my passport situation sorted. Rome is amazing, but let me tell you what I don’t love about it: 40° C inside the tram. More ice cream.

Then on Friday I had to bake a cake. I don’t really bake. I’m too irreverent with recipes to be able to - I guess and I cheat and I leave things out. Baking needs precision and patience, and I have neither of those. I always end up swearing. But a cake sale promise is a cake sale promise, so I managed to produce a (slightly burned) victoria sponge in a kitchen that was already at 30° C. It DID fetch the second-highest bid, but dinner? Not a chance. MORE ice cream.

Anyway, the storms materialised on Friday and Saturday in spectacular fashion, so we’re alright again.

The only remaining limiting factor at the moment is the lack of variety when it comes to vegetables. As the market guy said when I asked him for broad beans on Saturday, "NO! It's the season for FRUIT!". So lots of gorgeous fruit we got, but for veg it's a bit dull and a bit make-do: bell pepper, aubergine, tinned beans, frozen peas, carrots (yawn), more bell pepper, more aubergine. Oh well. If I could I'd live off fruit (and ice cream - did I mention ice cream?) anyway.

A good and temperate week to all!

Every little boy need a bestie. 

A bestie who will make the little boy stomp to the front door in search of his shoes at the mere mention of said bestie's name.

A bestie who makes the little boy's face light up when he discovers we haven't sat in the car for an hour on a Saturday for nothing. Oooh you're here too!

A bestie who just needs to shoot the little boy a cheeky glance in order to make him burst into a fit of giggles.

A bestie who will join the little boy in all sorts of mischief, particularly if it involves climbing.

A bestie who also appreciates the finer things in life: gravel. Especially beautiful little piles of gravel. Especially especially at the zoo, just to make our parents wonder why they bothered organising a nice day out instead of a nice day down the end of the drive.

A bestie who the little boy can thump and nick toys off and scream at and then be bestie with again 2 minutes later.

A bestie whose name the little boy can only pronounce as "Coco".

A bestie who can be part of this ordinary thing they call "growing up" (though don't be in too much of a hurry, you two beautiful little boys).

When preparing for the arrival of the Bean, we were keen to add a baby carrier to our list of must-haves. It seemed to us the most practical way to get around with a wee one in a city where many forms of public transport are inaccessible to prams (and wheelchairs, for that matter). We were able to borrow a structured carrier by Baby Bjorn.

It turned that this is one of the few (possibly only?) areas in which our predictions about impending parenthood were correct. Our baby despised his pram. In the carrier, however, he was happy as larry. To the point where I would put him in his fluffy snowsuit, walk round the block with him in the carrier, then put him on the floor at home to continue his snooze. Some days we didn’t even make it out of the apartment block, he fell asleep that fast.

Unfortunately, the Baby Bjorn didn’t last very long, in the sense that it became excruciating for my back and shoulders by the time M-Little was about 6 months. We did also borrow another model with extra back support, which M-big got on with quite well for another 6 months. I could never get it to fit me properly, however.

So, we took a deep breath and decided to buy a soft carrier. New. Full Price. *gasp*

Regular readers of this blog know that at P&P Towers we rarely buy new AND full price. But our thinking was that the new carrier should be ultra-versatile: able to carry both the Bean until he could walk himself to nursery, and any other, future additions to our family from birth. We also wanted something that was both eco-reponsible (no fire-retardant chemicals in the fabric) and socially responsible (fair trade). That, in our mind, was worth paying for.

We landed on Babipur’s website, a gorgeous online store of ethical baby goods, staffed by equally gorgeous people (they do things like gift wrap items not sent to your own address - i.e. for friends - for free, without you having to ask). They stock several carriers, but in the end we went for the BabyHawk Mei Tai, priced £64.50.

A square, heavy-duty piece of fabric has straps at each corner: two soft ones that go around the waist of the wearer, and two padded ones that go over the shoulders of the wearer, back over the baby/toddler and under their bum, and tied at the waist. There is also a padded 'headrest' section at the top the square to provide smaller babies with more support (they would have their arms underneath as opposed to over the shoulder straps).

The  shoulder straps are flat like those of a rucksack, and the waist straps can be tied at the front (as shown) or wrapped around again and tied at the back for those blessed with tiny waists.

Both the wearer and the baby/toddler are comfortable - we've done hours without complaints!

1. It’s unbelievably comfortable for the wearer
It has one set of straps that go around the waist and another, padded, set to go over the shoulders and back round the waist. These combine to give excellent support.
M-Little is now about 11 kg and M-Big and I are both still very happy to carry him. For me it’s a physical effort - 11 kg on your back is quite a load! - but it doesn’t hurt me anywhere. The maximum weight for the carrier is 18 kg, which I think is realistic.

2. It’s comfortable for the baby/toddler
Theoretically, this carrier ensures the baby/toddler is in the “correct” position: with their legs up, froggy-style, as a newborn, and with their weight spread across their hips and knees as an older baby/toddler.
Though he can’t tell me whether he’s comfortable in words, the first time I put the Bean in it he fell asleep within five minutes. We were in a heaving IKEA at the time. I take that as a toddler-endorsement.

3. It’s versatile
You can tie it in many different ways, for a front, back, or hip carry. The BabyHawk website has diagrams on how to tie it, though I also really liked this video:

For the Bean we use the back carry, but I also tried a front carry with my friend’s five-week-old baby. She was safe and secure, and fell asleep within seconds despite having been grizzly before I put her in. I’ve also tried the hip carry with the Bean which, although not included in the official instructions, works very well. Particularly when plane-spotting in the airport.

4. It’s compact
The BabyHawk folds up into a 21 cm x 21 cm x 6.5 cm soft plastic case (which it comes with). This is only a little taller than one of those "first shoes" shoe boxes by Clarks.
As we don’t have a car to sling a bulky structured carrier in, and often travel by plane, its compactness is a huge plus point for us. 

5. It’s high quality
It’s been used daily for six months. It’s been peed on. It’s been put through the washing machine. It’s travelled with us through 4 airports. And yet it still hasn’t faded or frayed anywhere at all.

6. It ticks the ‘responsible’ boxes
Eco-responsible in that the BabyHawk is made with 100% cotton chino twill and 100% quilting quality cotton that have not been treated with any chemicals, including flame-retardants.
Socially responsible in that they are made to order at the company’s headquarters in California rather than mass-manufactured in return for rock-bottom wages somewhere in China.

7. It’s oh so pretty (but not too girly)…
BabyHawk have lots of lovely stock designs, but you can also ‘design your own’ if they don’t have a combination of strap & back that you like. Or if you simply like the thought of your carrier being unique!
We went for the stock owl design because it was reasonably gender-neutral and because we thought it would appeal to the Bean (it does. he hoots at it).

1. Flappy straps
Though the long straps are what make the Mei Tai perfectly adjustable to wearers of all shapes and sizes, they are really long. Which means they can get tangled, or drag on the floor. 

2. Wide head support
The Mei Tai is supposed to be suitable from birth, but I'd be reluctant to put very small babies in there. The head support is wide and flat, and there is no way of adjusting it with extra little straps like some structured carriers have. I would worry that a very tiny baby's head would loll too much (though you would of course notice if this was the case, as you should only use a front carry with newborns). 

To me it’s obvious the BabyHawk Mei Tai is a great piece of kit (in winter AND summer!) despite a couple of niggles, but there are a couple of things you can do to make sure it works out well for you.

1. Practice before you head out
Those straps are loooong and that toddler wriggly. Better to practice a few times at home first, especially with the back carry! We found that the best way to get him on your back safely when you're on your own, is to:

Tie the bottom straps around your waist, then make sure the top straps are not caught up in each other.
Sit the toddler on a high surface such as a cupboard, table or even a step on the stairs.
Stand or sit (if on the stairs) right in front of him, then shimmy the bottom part of the carrier under his bum and pull up the shoulder straps.  
Stand up away from the surface, HOIK him up as high as possible, and tie.

Alternatively, the lady in the video above does an AWESOME front-to-back hip shuffle. 

2. Wash cold/cool in a laundry net or pillow case
The label says handwash-only, but then the toddler peed on it. I washed it on a gentle cycle at 30° C and, luckily, the colours didn’t bleed at all. But the straps did get all twisted, because I hadn’t put it in a laundry net…

Though I can’t compare it to any other soft  carriers or slings, we do much prefer the BabyHawk Mei Tai to the structured carrier I mentioned above. Hence, I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend it wholeheartedly.

Disclaimer: I have not been compensated in any way, by either Babipur or BabyHawk, for this review. I bought our Mei Tai at full price and have written this review because I believe in its merits as a baby product.

Note to self: when planning meals  in June, and specifically a roast chicken, never fail to check the weather forecast. Lest you find yourself roasting both chicken and family in a heat wave-enveloped and very unhappy city.

Although the good thing about yesterday’s kitchen-cum-furnace incident is that there is enough chicken left over for a nice, COLD, salad tonight. Whoop.

For the rest of the week we’re in survival mode. Temperatures are expected to reach 34° C by Thursday, which spells all kinds of misery. Honestly, don’t give me that stink eye - have you ever tried sitting on a block of concrete that has been out in the blazing sun all day? That’s what the walls of our non-insulated, 8th floor attic apartment feel like.

So I’ve been scouring t’ interwebs for hot weather recipes that neither involve barbecuing (tiny apartments and BBQs do not make for happy neighbours) nor pasta. Yep, it’s pasta overload at the nursery again. Which is a right bugger because I found some lovely cold pasta dishes, such as this one with dill, chickpeas and feta…

But no can do, so I’m resorting to cold soups, salads and sandwiches. 

chicken,  tomato & courgette ribbon salad
tuna melt panini
soba salad with ginger dressing
“Esau’s soup” (a garlickly potage of vegetables & red lentils, served cold with tons of lemon juice)
bread, basil, tomato and mozzarella salad
gazpacho & cheese toast

Hope your week is neither too hot nor too cold, and please keep your fingers crossed for some cooling storms coming over this way...

She’s clever, that Kirstie Allsopp. One interview, one opinion about how she’d want the life of her daughter (if she had one) to pan out, and BOOM. My blog feed is in a right old frenzy, my favourite feminist columnist weighs in, twitter is ablaze for days. Proper 21st-century media-tainment, this has been.

So of course I have to add my tuppence-worth. Except, I have no opinion on what Kirstie said. None at all.

I have no opinion because, in the nicest possible way (and I do want to be nice because I’ve had a Kirstie-crush for years...), her opinion is totally irrelevant. 

Irrelevant to her imaginary daughter, to all the real flesh-and-blood young women whose mothers would like them to have nice boyfriends and cute babies and be happy. And to all the young women whose mothers would like them to have a successful career and be individual and headstrong and happy. Heck, it doesn’t even matter to all the young men out there, whose parents will inevitably expect something of them as well.

Because that’s the thing about kids, isn’t it. They tend to want to do their own thing. To be reminded of this Undeniable Fact of Parenting, I just have to look at this face:

The jutted-out chin, the clenched teeth, the unwavering stare. 

It’s a face that says “not on your nelly, Mother”. It’s the face he puts on when his idea of what should be happening is different from mine. Which is pretty much all the time, and he’s 16 months. Lord help us when he turns 16 years.

There are certain things I would love for him to do, to achieve, to be. Yes, I’ll say that above all I want him to be happy (no pressure, son). But as I’ve said before, it isn’t for me to decide. I may not be above trying reverse psychology (why yes, I think you getting a motorbike at 16 is a wonderful idea. Shall I shoe-horn my wrinkly self into some leathers so we can go for a ride together?), but I can’t tell him which direction his life should take, by which age he should or should not have children. I can’t ‘protect’ him from disappointments I suffered or make him try the things I didn’t have the courage for. The same would be true for a daughter, if I had one.

So I think this: Kirsty is entirely entitled to her opinion. Heck, you would hope she'd have one, for this imaginary daughter, as surely the one thing worse than an opinionated (or meddlesome, if you're talking to the child) parent is an indifferent one. 

But otherwise, I don't think much. Her opinion just kinda makes me laugh, slightly nervously and with another glance at THAT face. It makes me imagine how the imaginary daughter would huff and prance off into the sunset with an old rocker of a not-nice boyfriend, or go and live in a commune that despises home ownership, or realise that actually she doesn’t like babies that much. Because, you know, Kirstie said it and she just had to go and do the opposite. Because that’s what kids do. 

Oh asparagus, how I love thee, let me count the ways:

grilled asparagus & fried eggs with Parmesan flakes, obviously
asparagus risotto, which is worth the faff of making the risotto
this delightful quinoa, asparagus, pea & lemon salad

And if, after all that, you're still not sick of having funny-smelling wee, try today's soup. It's thick, creamy, full of goodness and oh-so lovely. 

It's sneaky too, as it packs in courgettes and peas as well as asparagus. My toddler normally reserves an extra-special, extra-monstrous stink eye for the likes of courgette, but in soup form it goes down a treat. Especially with his own chunk of slightly crunchy, tangy Parmesan toast to dunk into it. 

The small handful of peas serves to make the soup a little sweeter and more vibrantly green, without overpowering the flavour of the asparagus. If you wanted to turn this into a more substantial lunch, a poached egg plopped into the soup would do nicely.

Asparagus soup & Parmesan toast

serves: 4
Pots/pans to be washed up afterwards: 1
Prep time: 15 mins
Cooking time: 45 mins

Ingredients:

For the soup
500 g asparagus, woody ends removed and chopped into 3 cm chunks, tips set aside
2 small courgettes, roughly chopped
1 leek, roughly chopped
1 white onion, chopped
1 small handful of peas, frozen or fresh
1.5 litres of chicken or vegetable stock
olive oil
sea salt
black pepper

For the toast
8 slices of sourdough, rye or wholemeal bread
150 g grated Parmesan
olive oil

Heat some olive oil in a heavy-bottomed pot, then add the onion, leek and courgette. Fry on a gentle heat for at least 20 mins - even the courgette will become lovely and sweet.

Add the chopped asparagus stalks (not the tips), the peas and the stock, then simmer for 15 mins until the asparagus is soft. Season, then blend with a stick blender until completely smooth.

Add the asparagus tips and simmer for another 10-15 mins, until the tips are soft.

In the meantime, make your toast: toast your bread slightly, then brush with a little olive oil. Place on a baking tray, sprinkle generously with grated Parmesan, then pop under the grill until the cheese has melted (and, if you're like me, is starting to go brown and crunchy...).

Serve the soup and toast immediately (though on a hot day you could also serve the soup cold with a spoonful of natural yoghurt and some lemon juice. But cold cheese toast? I wouldn't).