HOW TO DEAL WITH NEWBIE PARENTS (A PARABLE)

Over the Christmas holidays I had an Italian friend visiting with her husband and 2-year-old son. I love them all dearly, and it was great to speak my native language daily and relax into the comfort of our shared cultural background. From the very beginning, though, I had to struggle with the evident difference between my life as a mother of two and my friend's life as a mother of one. Let's see how it went.

My friend's child spent his time adorably playing by himself, going on fun museum outings with his parents on public transportation, showcasing his amazing potty-training abilities, and recounting his adorably inventive imaginary adventures with the sweetest voice ever. In two weeks, he cried TWICE. My friend was calm, competent, and rigorous at all times. 

My kids spent their time screaming for joy or anger, begging for clementines at all hours of the day while refusing to eat during proper mealtimes, and generally displaying their territorial nature with the ferocity of male teenage Komodo dragons. At various intervals, they would toss off their clothes and run naked up and down the stairs, throwing toy cars at each other. All the while, my parenting action was limited to sighing, changing diapers, picking up scattered underwear, and occasionally pleading them to be "gentle". I collapsed on the couch A LOT.

...

Frankly, it was embarrassing. As a Xmas host, I should have provided my guests with a safe winter haven filled with joy and family fun rather than a tableau vivant of squalor and despair only to be photographed in the starkest of B/W. My knee-jerk reaction, of course, was to reject any guilt and toll the "you-just-wait" bell, but I knew that would have made me feel even worse. What right did I have to burst my friend's happy parenting bubble by telling that her beautiful family was just a delusion ready to be destroyed completely and permanently by any additional spawn?

I looked at my friend, all fresh and innocent, and caught a glimpse of my old efficient self in the half-forgotten years when I only had one child. When MiniBee was the sole center of my world, I was the one folding cloth diapers. I was the one setting weekly playdates at the zoo and making homemade yogurt topped with freshly-grated apples. I was the one insisting that we have a full meal at the table and we seldom or never watch TV. Yes, dear friend. I was once young and beautiful, too.

So what happened? What came that transformed me from a busy mother into this zombie of dejection, capable only of refilling Cheerios and shaking her head slowly?

Well, Microbee happened. I know that. But I also know that I can do better, even just a tiny bit. I might not be ready to take both kids on a museum outing on public transportation—fuck that—but I can go back to some of the principles I once had. I can start with food, for example. Take my friend: She is a stickler for fresh vegetables. Once she served us grated beets and, to my complete surprise, my kids loved them—especially when they learned their poop would turn red. How great is that?

A gory close-up of your kid's new favorite snack.

From now on I can grate beets for lunch, and watch my kids eat vegetables happily while sitting at the table. Their smiles will shine through their red-stained faces, and suddenly they will look like zombies just like me, and it will feel wonderful.

So if you have 2+ kids, don't look at newbie parents as lucky bastards who have it all easy. Just try to be inspired. I believe that, as mothers and fathers (of any number of kids), we are all on our individual journey of discovery and humiliation, reaching each stage at our own speed. Some of us will enjoy more breaks than others, but it really doesn't matter. Because one day, we will all be there together, calling our adult, well-adjusted and ungrateful kids on the phone just hear it ring again and again without answer... deep into the bottomless void of our self-sacrifice.

MY BEEF WITH EVOLUTION

The Italian theory of evolution

I was born in the mid-70s in Italy, which means my childhood was spent during the economic boom of the 80s (Alpine vacations in winter AND summer) and my adolescence and young adult years in the cozy and undemanding arms of modern technology. Between a game of Simon, a text message, and a Napster download, I never found the time or reason to question whether my body truly represented the latest model of an evolutionary process started 15 million years ago (I'm talking about human evolution). Given how quickly I could recover from hangover, I just assumed it did.

Everything changed after my pregnancy and the birth of MiniBee, experiences that compelled me to test the process of reproduction, which I believe biology still considers the main goal of human existence. My first stance towards the experience was one of great curiosity and excited anticipation, but after only a year that stance had turned to one of bewilderment. I have to say, human reproduction really doesn't seem as well-planned as popular science wants us to believe. The so-called "miracle of birth" seems more to me like a half-assed experiment, an unconvincing and unconvinced attempt at evolutionary success, a random dart thrown drunkenly at the future in an attempt to somehow cope with the harsh demands of natural selection. Perhaps this shouldn't surprise me, but Mother Nature has revealed herself to be just like any other parent: godlike and omnipotent at first, but ultimately just a mom, tired and overwhelmed, with eyes filled with disillusionment. I can't help but to imagine our confrontation.

ME: "Mom, was this really the best plan your could think of? Stuffing women with a 9-lb meatloaf that has to come out of their vaginas?"
MOTHER NATURE: "Oh, stop it. You have no idea how busy I was, and how hard I had to work. Do you think humans are the only ones I have to take care of? You don't hear the lemmings complain, and I have them jumping off a fucking cliff. And remember, your father is never around."
ME: "My father?!?"
MOTHER NATURE: "You humans call him God, which is frankly kind of rich, given that he left me completely alone to take care of you, the house, and all the animals."
ME: "Are you telling me that God exists?!? Where is He now?"
MOTHER NATURE:"I told you a million times already, but you never, ever listen. He left. He made this world in six days, this wonderful world of whales and gemstones and instincts and quantum particles. That was just one of his projects back in the day. Did you think he was going to just magically settle down and help me raise you all? No, of course not! He's too much of an artist to be a parent. Mr Know-It-All needs to create! And I was stupid enough to support him... Now leave me alone. I need a smoke."
ME: "Do you smoke cigarettes?!?"
MOTHER NATURE: "Are you crazy? With those prices? I'll just inhale some of the carbon dioxide you kids have kindly provided me with. Now leave me alone! It's November, for fuck's sake. Shouldn't you start collecting acorns for you den?"
ME: "Are you talking about squirrels?"
MOTHER NATURE: "Whatever."

But I still have lots of questions! Well, I have three actually.

PREGNANCY DIET

Wooly mammoths needs to be cooked to
a 145F temp for safe consumption.

Right from the bat, women are saddled with a punitively long pregnancy during which they are at increased risk for listeria (18 times more likely than general population, according to this). What is the purpose of this immune weakness? Women are growing another human inside their bodies: bone, muscle, brain tissue and whatever else is there. Shouldn't their immune system be at its strongest? And mostly, shouldn't they be able to eat whatever they want, raw or cooked, especially when their strongest instinct is to eat any and everything they see or even imagine?

GIANT BRAIN, STILL USELESS

The human advantage and a tricky storage problem.

Okay, you know this. We humans have developed massive heads to contain our massive brains, and we are born basically premature otherwise we would never make it out of the birth canal from the neck up. This makes human birth more difficult and painful than for most animals, and results in human newborns who can't literally do anything. A foal will stand and walk right after birth, but babies take weeks just to focus enough to see there's more to our faces than a nose. Still, I have to wonder how a species who has to told their tiny babies for one or two years or more was able to survive this long. How is a woman supposed to gather (as in "hunt and gather") with a child constantly attached to her?

HELLO, TIGER! WE'RE HERE!

First they're screaming and now they're drawing on the walls?
When is this day going to end?

Why do children cry so much, and so loudly? This doesn't make any sense to me. Why on earth would an insignificant, tiny, clawless, non-poisonous being call so much attention on itself? If I were a cave woman, hidden in said cave, freaked out and exhausted after birth and waiting for someone to deliver my Paleo dinner, the last thing I want is for my baby to advertise its juicy presence to all saber-tooth predators for miles around. And babies do not scream only in their infancy. In fact, their loudest and most irrational cries happen in toddlerhood and early childhood, when I would think a mother would want to leave her cave to go back to gathering (as in "hunting and gathering"). Why can't babies simply whimper quietly and adorably like newborn kittens? How great that would be?

SPIDERMAN, SPIDERMAN...

Forgive this silly post, but the entire family is sick and suffering from massive sleep deprivation, so this is the best I can do. As some of you may know, I am ambivalent about superheroes and their unironic stronghold on the contemporary male psyche. I really hope children will grow less obsessed than their fathers with high-flying musclemen dealing with unresolved childhood traumas. To speed up the process, I've started my own little campaign of placing superheroes into a more rational perspective. It all began when I revealed to my Italian nephew that the name Wolverine is not a play on the word "wolf", but it refers to an actual skunk-like species whose name in Italian is gulo gulo, which sounds a lot like "ass ass". He was crushed, but I believe for the better.

Today, I'm making sure that my son's budding admiration for Spiderman is kept in check with this little song. To be administered three times a day for two weeks, at monthly intervals.

A YEAR IN PARENTING

Is it Spring already? No, it isn't, but we're getting there, right? Aren't we??? If I sound desperate, it's because I am. I have spent the entire winter indoors trying to keep my children entertained yet safe while throwing Cheerios at them at hourly intervals. I may have survived, but barely. The only thing that has kept me mentally stable has been googling diagramming apps, an old passion of mine. So here are four pie charts to summarize the seasonal activities of average parents. If someone ever asks you, "What do you do all day?", then show them these.

FOOL ME TWICE: 2 KIDS UNDER 3 (Part II)

Here is the second installment of the lessons I've learned as a mother of 2 kids under the age of 3. (Here you can find Part I.)  My chidren, MiniBee and MicroBee are now 4 and (almost) 18 months, which means I'm still in the trenches, but breathing some, too. I hope some of these thoughts are going to help parents about to embark on the double-parenting adventure, although I know very well that everything you are reading here you will forget within minutes of your second birthing experience. Good luck!

NAPS

You are surely wondering how on earth you will be able to have two children nap at the same time or at different times of the day. I have no solution for you, I'm afraid. Having two children following two different napping routines is olympically challenging. A classic two-hour routine right after birth saw me nursing MicroBee to sleep while listening to MiniBee trashing the living room downstairs, then drag an overexcited MiniBee to his room and read him stories for 45 minutes so that I could finally leave the room only to hear MicroBee waking up from is nap. I would then pick MicroBee up and be greeted downstairs by MiniBee announcing he would not nap that day. So my advice is, do whatever you can. It will be over someday, somehow.

DUMBING DOWN FOR ALL

When you had your first child, you spent all of your energies crafting the perfect amount of quality mental stimulation to be balanced with strict routines and a plenty of nurturing affection. Your first child is a genius with massive potential in practically all areas. As soon as the second comes along, all comes to a halt. I'm sorry to tell you this, but now that you're a family of four, your youngest will drag you all to his/her own level, nullifying all of your previous efforts. You are exhausted, and all you can muster is going through the motions of the simplest activity that will make the youngest happy. In my case, it's banging toy cars together. (You will always choose to cater to the one who screams the most and is closest to your ears.)

POTTY MOUTH

When your oldest child turns four, s/he will enter the horrifying stage of potty mouth, during which s/he is going to repeat swearing you say at home together with mystifying coinages s/he will pick up from other children (welcome to "fart sauce"). At the same time, your youngest will be the impressionable toddler dealing with his or her first words. You will then enjoy having a toddler whose only words are "mom", "dad", "shit", and "stupid". I can tell you there are not a lot of good sentences coming out from this.

THE IRONY OF "THE GOOD OLD DAYS"

You will think back at those days when you were only dealing with your first and wonder what the fuck you were complaining about. When you have a second, the idea of having to deal with one tantrum, one meal, one potty-training disaster will sound like being transported into your early 20s on a solo vacation to a Caribbean paradise. Of course, this doesn't mean you start judging parents with only one child. You are just gaining some very much needed perspective. Sometimes you'll even go as far as thinking that, if you had three children, then the two you have would look like a stroll in the park. But that's usually when I slap myself really hard on the face.


Read Fool Me Twice, 2 Kids Under 3 (Part I).

FOOL ME TWICE: 2 KIDS UNDER 3 (Part I)

My oldest (MiniBee) turned 4 recently, and my youngest (MicroBee) is two months shy of 18 months, which means that at some point I did have 2 kids under 3 to take care of. It might be the biggest cliché ever, but time did fly since MicroBee was born, and today I look at this tall, brooding preschooler and this dancing, dumpster-diving toddler and I can't believe they are my sons. So I decided to stop and think about what a crazy roller-coaster the past two years have been, and which lessons I've learned that can be passed to future parents of 2 under 3. Here is Part I!

SECOND PREGNANCY

Everybody knows that nobody cares about your second pregnancy, but you'll be surprised by how little you will care yourself. Personally, I could never remember how many weeks I was, I'd ask strangers at the supermarket whether smoked salmon was safe for me, and I started talking to the baby inside me only when they told me he was fucking breech (don't worry, I kept it somewhat civilized).

BOOKS

Being the compulsive parenting-book reader that I am, I was surprised by the lack of well-established manuals for parents with young children. How I am supposed to raise these kids without expert advice?!? The reason is very simple: No parent of a toddler has the time to read such manuals (and I suspect no parent has the time to write them, as well). And even the freaks like myself who sacrifice what little sleep they have to read parenting books usually know at this point that these books are a hoax and that everybody is just winging it 99% of the time.

OUTNUMBERED

Believe me, as much as my wonderful MicroBee is a beautiful smily angel from planet Happy, not a day passes that I don't ask my husband what we were smoking when we decided to have a second child. You might have two children on paper, but it will feel like you have half a dozen. In any case, you're outnumbered, even when your partner is around. The only way around this is to be perfectly organized, frantically stacked with supplies, and always ready to deliver the best possible response for every demand from your children. I guess what I'm saying is, good luck.

MOTHER'S ARMS

Children under three still like to be held and carried places, so it was no surprise to me that the arrival of a baby would only intensify this need. Your children will both need to be held, often at the same time, so there will be times where you're going to have to do that. Hopefully this will happen after your birthing stitches have been removed. It does make for some great photos of course. Smile, always, so at least one day you can pretend that it was not excruciatingly painful.

MOM BRAIN

If you think you had mom brain the first time, think again. Actually, you can't. Your head is now occupied by two massive yearly planners filled with information to be dealt with at all times. No personal reflection will ever be possible again, and memories from your youth will come in blurry flashes only during the deepest of sleep. (And a side note to this. The term "mom brain" is used to imply that mothers become stupider with the arrival of children, and nothing angers me more than hearing this. Mothers do not become stupid; they are simply flooded with a myriad of information of both mundane and critical importance. And even with the occasional slip-up they do a pretty damn good job with it regardless of the minutes that they sleep per day.)


Read Fool Me Twice: 2 Kids Under 3 (Part II).

HOLIDAY GIFT GUIDE

The holidays are sneaking up on us with shrapnel-fury (who's the genius who gave us a late Thanksgiving this year???) and demand that we silence our wreathing inner demons for about two weeks and be merry and cheerful and bright. It's an impossible task, of course, but we'll try once again. To help you expedite your holiday shopping and possibly delay your anger explosion at the Christmas family table for an hour or two, here is Dead Chef's holiday gift guide for the family and beyond. Everything here is pure gold: I dare you not to buy anything. Let's start!

FOR THE KIDS: POP-UP PIRATE

I have longing and painful memories of not having this as a kid and being allowed to play with it only at my cousins' (incidentally, they also had all of He-Man character toys). It's a jolly pirate stuck in a barrel and playfully tortured with swords. Once the right sword gets to him, he is launched from the barrel. The Italian jingle explained the process with something that I will loosely translate thusly, "He's going to launch like a missile / Once you tear him a new one." Jokes aside, this is a great game for kids: simple, sturdy, fun, and begging to be played again and again for years. My almost 4-year old is still playing with it. And you know what? This is one of the few games I enjoy, too.

Buy it here.

FOR DAD: MOZZARELLA KIT

Aren't you sick of stereotyping dad by making him brew horrible and sour IPAs at home? I'll say enough with the home brewing already! If you want to provide dad with a worthy project to impress his family and reconnect with some kind of olden-days skill, then get him a mozzarella kit. First of all, mozzarella can be eaten with the entire family and in a variety of dishes (check this, this, this, and this). Secondly, and this might be my own fascination, a man is a man when he can manipulate and subdue a chunk of dairy.

This cheesemaking kit gets great reviews.

FROM PARENT TO PARENT: A WEEKEND HOME ALONE

When I'm alone, my house looks like this to me.

This is for the parent who takes the most care of the children and who is constantly denounced by society for both spoiling and neglecting the kids so that they will turn out just like Millennials, but without the icing of good manners (i.e. The Worst). I'm trying to be PC here, but we all know I'm talking about mothers. This is the idea: you take the children to the grandparents or to a sky lodge or wherever, and the other parent (mom) is left in A CLEAN HOUSE for an entire weekend. I've been twice the recipient of this gift, and I can tell you there's is really nothing like it. I read, I sewed, I watched a movie during the day, I went out with friends, I ate whatever, whenever I wanted, and I SLEPT IN.

FOR OTHER PARENTS WHO NOW HATE CHRISTMAS: FATHER CHRISTMAS BY RAYMOND BRIGGS

I can't remember how we got hold of this wonderful children book. It is a beautifully illustrated story of a very grumpy Santa on his big day of the year, stuck in what appears to be a much hated yet comforting routine. This Santa hates the cold and the work, complains non-stop throughout his sleigh-ride around the world, and is only really happy when he drinks his Cognac or a bottle of "party-size" red wine surrounded by his pets. Kids will enjoy all of the details in each panel; parents will fall in love with the unsentimental humor. And the beauty of it all it's that there's no post-modern sarcasm in this tale. Somehow, below Santa's cranky mutterings, readers will find the comforting rituals and magic of the Christmases of their childhood.

Buy it used (new is pretty expensive) here.

FOR THE BEST OF FRIENDS: ARCHY & MEHITABEL BY DON MARQUIS

I found this total joy of a book only a few years ago, so pardon me if you know it already, but it's worth talking about in the hope that future generations will also enjoy it. Published in 1927 as a collection of Don Marquis' columns, this book recounts the stories of Archy, a cockroach who writes poems on a typewriter, and his friend Mehitable, a passionate alley cat. This is a wonderfully funny, dark, bittersweet, romantic, and heartbreaking book. And the illustrations are from George Harriman himself, of Krazy Kat fame (a personal favorite). I am so in love with this book it almost hurts.

You can buy it here.

FOR YOUR OVERWHELMED FRIEND: A GIFT AND A RE-GIFT

You know what I really need? An inexhaustible collection of unopened treats in my pantry to be brought as last-minute gifts at parties and family events. I'm always running to the closest grocery store to find something that hopefully is not too popular and won't look exactly like what it is: a desperate random gift wrapped in haste and profanities. And don't tell me I'm alone in this. So let's start a virtuous cycle of regiftables. The idea is, buy two boxes of the same NICE treats, be it cream-filled bonbons, or gourmet macaroons, or Turkish pistachios, or whatever. One is for the giftee, and one is to be regifted. You don't actually have to explain the process to your giftee. You might add a wink if you feel like it, but we all know regifting will happen. You are just a generous and understanding facilitator.

FOR THE FRIEND WHO IS EASILY PLEASED: ORIGAMI SANTA ORNAMENTS

Last year I purchased a "Christmas Crafts Fun Kit" for my kids at a thrift store. I'm usually very wary of crafts for kids, mostly because I think it's weird that parents do all the work without even the chance of complaining about it, since crafting requires that you look ecstatic at all times. In any case, the only activity I picked up on is Origami Santa. Now, I like origami in principle but I really don't care about it much. These Santas, though, have something special. They are unapologetically adorable (if I may), and the process by which they're made is weirdly addictive, so much that this year I bought a pack of red origami paper to make as many Santas as I can. I plan on giving one to whomever is going to come by my house, and I'm already sad that in two weeks I'll have no reason to make my little Santas. That's why I think you should make them, too.

Here's a video tutorial. I know it's 7-minutes long, but after 3 Santas, you'll be down to 2 zen minutes.

FOR YOUR DEAREST, NON-VEGETARIAN FRIEND: OILY MACKEREL 

OK, so this is not the most photogenic food.
But look, Origami Santa!

Home-made treats are always well received, but if you don't want to bake yet another batch of cookies and want to surprise your giftee with something strong-flavored and unexpected, then home-made mackerels are just what you want. You just need a few mason jars, a few whole mackerels (get them at H-Mart), and good olive oil. They are salty, oily, great with bread, and, according to science, healthy, so really, what's not to like? There is a slim chance your giftee might find them a little too tasty, but I believe this is the kind of litmus-test gift to see if this friendships is a keeper or a tosser.

OILY MACKEREL

For 2–3 jars

2 fresh whole mackerels, cleaned
Kosher salt
freshly-ground black pepper
1C EVOO
2 tbsps lemon juice

• Turn the broiler on. Place the mackerels in roasting dish, and sprinkle liberally with salt on the outside and inside. Let stand on the counter for 30 minutes.
• Broil the mackerels for about 8-10 minutes, turning them halfway, until the skin bubbles up.
• Fillet the mackerels and add more salt if desired, then sprinkle with freshly-ground black pepper.
• Mix EVOO and lemon juice together.
• Place fillet inside the mason jars, then pour in the olive oil mixture to cover the fish.

I read the mackerels in oil keep refrigerated for a month. Just bring them to room temperature before serving them.

GENIUS INVENTIONS FOR PARENTS / 2

You might remember I published a list of genius inventions for parents a few months ago. There I proposed 5 ideas for products that will make the lives of new parents immensely easier, so I'm surprised I wasn't contacted by any venture capitalist afterwards. I guess those people have nannies. In any case, now that my children are a little bit older, my needs as a parent have matured. For example, I'm meditating on purchasing half a dozen wet floor signs to be used around the house every day. But I digress. Here's a list of five more inventions that need to happen right now.

And wheels.

1. SHOP-VAC TOY BOX

I was watching the leaf collector on Thanksgiving Day (why were they working?) and I had a vision. What if, at the end of the day, I could just vacuum all the toys around the house so that they fall straight into their dedicated box? So here is the idea: a vacuum with a larger nozzle that will suck toys big and small into the canister, which is actually a wheeled toy box. How great that would be? I would love if the vacuum part could be detached and applied to different toy boxes.

2. SMARTPHONE HEADBAND

Look at my headband!

I think the next big thing in televised sports will be Baby&Toddler Dressing. I am really surprised nobody has thought about it. It involves physical force, quick smarts, and lots of drama. It's the ultimate man vs. beast conflict. For those of you who appreciate how difficult it is to get a child aged 0 to 4 dressed, but still feel unfit for formal competition, then I might have a solution for you. It's a headband with a clip on the front for your smartphone, so that your baby can be distracted by the cute video of a baby sloth on your forehead while you change his/her diaper and put clothes, socks, shoes, coat, and even gloves on your little love. You know it will work.

Just as effective.

3. GENTLE!

This is so essential. It's a wall-mounted loudspeaker who repeats the word "GENTLE!" strongly but firmly at regular intervals (suggested: 45 seconds). If you have a baby and a dog or two small children, you know you need this. As far as I'm concerned, this will finally allow me to have a conversation with my husband without screaming "GENTLE!" every five words.

4. COOL-TO-EAT

This is a device to instantly cool food that your child deems too hot to eat without screaming, and then proceeds to scream anyway because he's hungry. I'm a mother who cooks, and there's nothing as maddening as scrambling to get lunch ready only to see it rejected with desperate rage because its temperature is not ideal. Technology did actually bring us the Blast Chiller, but it is used only in molecular gastronomy restaurants and is huge. I need something small and cheap-ish to keep on my kitchen counter or even at the table.

5. PLAYGROUND BAR

Yes, you can go on the slide, dear.

When I'm stuck watching my children at the playground, bored out of my mind, I dream about Playground Bar. It is a coffee bar with an enclosed playground inside and outside. You come in with your children and send them to the playground while you watch on the side, seated comfortably at real table on a real chair rather than an acorn stool (I live near a "treehouse" playground) with people serving me food and drinks (I'm dreaming of other mothers working part-time, so that they know what I need). Ah, the dignity... The thought only is intoxicating! For those of you who think McDonald's already fits the bill, I'll counter by saying that Playground Bar does not serve junk food. Instead, it provides appropriate snacks in the form of fruit, cheese, bread, and other healthy treats. For mothers, it will serve very complex French pastries that kids don't yet understand and therefore will be suspicious of. At Playground Bar, I can order a coffee, or a stiff drink. And about this, can someone tell me why Irish Coffee is not every mother's favorite drink? It has everything you need: the energy of caffeine, the soothing embrace of booze, and the health benefits of calcium. Playground Bar, come to me.

DEALING WITH "HELP": A CONCEPTUAL FRAMEWORK

This post is aimed mostly at mothers, but I believe it might be useful for everybody else, too. So read on, and let me know what you think.

I believe that one of the most difficult tasks a new mother is presented with (together with taking care of an infuriatingly ungrateful living creature while being continually chastised by society) is getting the help she really needs. Since I had my first child over three years ago, I was lucky to have family and friends come and visit often in order to help me. The help was mostly well received, but to be honest there were times I wished I had no help at all. I'll give you a few examples.

One time I thought a simple nap WITHOUT MY BABY would save my life, whereas my mother thought I needed her to reorganize my kitchen drawers. Another time, a well-meaning friend pestered me to tell her exactly how she could help me, but I was too tired to answer so she reorganized my kitchen drawers. Once I dropped my baby in my father's arms and ran to take a nap. I awoke to my child screaming out of mad hunger in a soiled diaper while my dad was happily reorganizing my kitchen drawers. See a pattern here? 

At first, I thought the problem was finding a way to communicate effectively what I needed. But that was only half of the problem, since there are people who won't meet your needs even when they are expressed in a simple sentence written in a bold Helvetica typeface on the side of a zeppelin and echoed by a Gospel choir. The real lesson I had to learn before I asked for any help was a simple one:

THE HELP YOU'RE GOING TO GET = THE HELP ONE IS WILLING TO GIVE YOU

There are different kinds of helpers in this world, and unless you learn to recognize and accept their strengths and limitations, your pleas for help are going to be exhaustingly unproductive. So let me introduce you to a framework to help you identify the types of Helpers in your life so that you, dear mother, can maximize the support you're receiving.

Type 1. The Moderate Helper

As you can see from the diagram below, the Moderate Helper will help you in some of the things you need done (the Help Offered is a subset of the Help Needed). The Moderate Helper listens to your requests and usually takes on the easiest and quickest tasks. People in this category tend to be friends without children, so their judgement is not impaired by blood line or by supposed "experience with kids".

Babysitting: Up to 30 minutes for a non-crying baby.
Duties performed: Allows you to shower and take a short nap, makes sandwich and/or coffee.
Advice offered: Suggests interesting new releases on Netflix.

Type 2. The Good Helper

The Good Helper does everything s/he can while in your company. S/he will listen carefully to your requests and even spontaneously assess your situation in order to provide help that you feel too embarrassed to ask for. People in this category are usually well-adjusted individuals with children close in age to yours, and rarely blood relatives. As you can see from the diagram, they perfectly cover all your needs.

Babysitting: Up to 3 hours.
Duties performed: Lets you take a bath, cleans up your living room, brings a bag of groceries (prompted or unprompted).
Advice offered: Generic and non-judgmental tips on baby-rearing.

Type 3. The Great Helper

The Great Helper doesn't even need to hear your requests. S/he will immediately help you with everything you need and with other things you didn't even know you needed (Help Needed is a subset of the Help Offered). People in this category are usually successful members of society with a high level of empathy. Please note this is the Holy Grail of friendships. Honor it.

Babysitting: Up to 12 hours (overnight included).
Duties performed: Schedules appointment with lactation consultant as soon as you're back from the hospital, lets you drop off your child at their house and then kicks you out, brings gourmet food unprompted, leaves dry shampoo in your beauty-case without mentioning it, changes your bedsheets, instills in your child awe and respect for nature.
Advice offered: None.

Type 4. The Bad Helper

The Bad Helper will technically help you, but will feel obligated to "help" with tasks you couldn't care less about. Bad Helpers technically don't deserve the "Bad" label, since they are actually helping, but you will get so irritated at their misdirected efforts that I have to call them that. People in this category are usually close relatives or people whose adult children live in another state/country.

Babysitting: Up to 1 hour.
Duties performed: Sets the table, brings junk food, distracts you with mildly-entertaining gossip, reorganizes kitchen drawers.
Advice offered: Long, heartfelt discussion on the best way to change your parenting style completely but successfully, based on their personal experience.

Type 5. The Really Bad Helper

The Really Bad Helper is someone who will not do anything you need because s/he knows better than you. In this diagram, you see how Help Needed and Help Offered do not intersect at all. Really Bad Helpers are usually a parent or a parent's sibling. In case of the sibling, having children is irrelevant to their uselessness.

Babysitting: Up to 30 minutes (while you are printing some weird document they need printed).
Duties performed: Polishes brass you didn't know you had, vacuums laptop keyboard, irons your wedding dress, spends hours online researching scientifically obsolete diet plan for you to follow, informs you your child needs to learn some respect.
Advice offered: On all fronts, because they think you're being too soft but also too insensitive to your child's needs.

OK, BUT WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS INFORMATION?

Being able to identify the types of Helpers in your life is hugely important. While it's true you will have to deal with each of them at some point, knowing their role will help you decide who to call and when, and whose offer to politely reject. For example, Great Helpers need to be called right after birth, whereas Really Bad Helpers can be invited for tea on a weekend or whenever you and your partner are both home to support each other. I would also suggest you share this framework with your Helpers, so that people can take a hard look at themselves and see whether they can drop the brass polishing already.

TWO ITALIAN MOTHERS, BLINDED BY FOOD AMBITION

I just spent two happy months in the company of my sister and her two wonderful kids, aged 10 and 12. We had a great time between summer camps, the beach, and bowling nights, but there was one issue we struggled for the entire vacation: What to eat? I have to say, my sister and I are both blessed with children who eat everything and are happy to experiment. The real struggle was to find a common denominator between our assorted demands for healthy food. We are both very health-conscious Italian mothers, after all, which means we want to provide only the best for our children so that they will, hopefully, never leave the house. 

In the flowchart below (and what a great flowchart it is), I've listed all of our joint food requirements for our summer together. I start with the basic requirements and then go into each subset. Our resulting diet is detailed at the very end. Let me know what you think.

GENIUS INVENTIONS FOR PARENTS

Those of you who don't know me well might be surprised to learn that I have an amazing talent of coming up with genius ideas for new products and business ventures (really, though, you shouldn't be that surprised). Since I became a mother three years ago, my ideas have focused more on making parenting easier, so here are 5 genius ideas for products that I hope will see the light sooner than later. I hope you like them enough to invest in their creation and distribution. (Call me.)

1. INST-A-RAIL

Imagine this, but on all sides of the bed
and remote-controlled.

Co-sleeping is all cute and cozy, but what happens when either baby or parent is awake? When the "co" in "co-sleeping" goes missing, you need the INST-A-RAIL. It's a remote-controlled system of rails that come up on all sides of the beds (very silently, of course) so that you can safely leave your child asleep in your bed alone or let him/her frolic on the sheets while you sleep. Perfect for babies who have learned to roll over, scoot, crawl and/or exercise. I know I presently need this at least twice a day.

2. PACI-FIX

It's going to fall out in 3 minutes.

The perfect solution for those babies who are not able to keep the pacifier in their mouth: a pacifier that ties around your baby's face! Okay, so this is basically a muzzle, but I just need a great designer and a complacent recommending pediatrician and we're set. Perfect also for when parents want to leave babies on the floor without worrying about what they put into their mouths.

3. HOME SCANNER

I have no idea what this actually is.

Children have amazing memories for objects, but not for the place they've hidden those objects months before they suddenly realize they have to have them RIGHT NOW. The HOME SCANNER consists in a series of radars to be installed in every room of your house. You will just type a description of the lost item into the related app ("small plastic kitten", "pin wheel", "car keys", "earless bunny") and the HOME SCANNER will scan your house and locate the object for you before the tantrum begins. 

4. PORT-A-VIBE

We'll stay in the car for another 90 minutes.

Ah, sleeping infants! They are so portable! Or are they? Well, I can tell you I can count on the fingers of one hand the times I've been able to transport my sleeping babies from the car to the house without waking them up. The PORT-A-VIBE is a small vibrating disc that can be attached to any infant car seat to replicate the feeling of being in the car so that your infant keeps on sleeping inside your house while you fall exhausted on the couch, as you should. 

5. TOILET PAPER CUTTER

I'll try the sudden side pull again.

All parents know there's a phase in which children demand to be held at all times, roughly from birth to 3 and a half years. This is the time that parents are surprised to discover the number of tasks they are able to perform one-handed. One task I would have never thought required two hands is tearing toilet paper. When you go to the bathroom holding your baby, tearing toilet paper is a nightmare. Personally, I try the quick and strong sideway pull for a clean tear, but I always end with a mess of unrolled toilet paper on the floor. A cutter like the one on foil containers will solve all my problems. Please someone design this. It would also be great for those of us who bring smartphones to the toilet (not feeling so smart now, uh, phone?).

Find 5 more genius inventions for parents here.

Q&A: BECOMING A PARENT

Q: Dead Chef, do you like children?
A: Of course I do! Well, I like mine, mostly. And a few others. But really, mostly mine, and even them only a few hours a day, and between the ages of 18 months and 2 years. And even that depends greatly on how much I slept and on my glucose level. But, my god, I love children!

Q: What is the ideal number of children to have?
A: If you have a boy, you should definitely have another, but only within 3 years from the first. You really need a substitute for those impromptu and unwanted wrestling sessions initiated by your first born. I just had my second, and I figure I'll be bruise-free in about 16 months.

Q: What is your advice for new parents?
A: The first years with a child can provide you with an excellent opportunity for smugness. Take it and enjoy it to the fullest. You should make sure you exude total self-satisfaction whenever you meet someone who is not at that moment in the company of a child. Your message is: "My life is incredibly hard and yet rewarding in ways you can never hope to understand." You should act this way mostly because this is your last chance in life to be smug. As soon as your children will be able to articulate properly their disappointment with every single aspect of your appearance, personality, and life choices, your smugness will be replaced by the terrifying and definite acknowledgement that your life has been totally futile and misspent.

After 2 years, this father is actually standing straight here.

Q: What is the best way to get back in shape after pregnancy?
A: You can only get back into shape if your child is in daycare or school. In any case, I highly recommend a physical therapist rather than conventional exercise. The truth is, you started an intensive exercise regime already in the early stages of parenting, and let me tell you: Parenting is the worst possible workout for the human body. You lift, jump, rock, sway, and bend over in positions where your spine and neck are unnaturally wrenched into monstrous coils of pain. Your muscles are called to perform abruptly and always work in complete disharmony. Your tendons have become tight and hard as celery stalks. You need medical intervention, now. Pilates can wait.

Q: What movies do you recommend to a pregnant woman?
A: Excellent question! Pregnancy is a beautiful, mysterious, and unsettling time where perceptions and feelings are heightened. I'd take fully advantage of the hormonal intensity to watch only the best and weirdest movies around and make your already weird dreams even weirder. Rosemary's Baby and Upstream Color to deal specifically with pregnancy fears, and then Akira Kurosawa's Ran, most movies with Jeanne Moreau, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and finally all of David Lynch if you're a brave one (I must admit I wasn't). I'd avoid all rom-coms and holiday movies: Those are movies to be watch ironically while on a plane trip; you don't want to be caught shedding precious hormonal tears for that crap.

Q: Do you think being a mother is the hardest job in the world?
A: No, I don't think so, but don't tell my husband. That's the line I used to stop doing house work.

Q: What have you learned from being a mother for almost three years?
A: I learned that it really takes a village. Specifically, a village located in a country where grandparents ask nothing more than to spend quality alone-time with their grandchildren.

Q: What's the best thing about having a child?
A: All that food they leave on the plate.

Q: What's the worst thing?
A: The food is often partially chewed.

DOLCI GELATI AND THE ÜBERCROISSANT

I'm sure most of you DC people are familiar with Dolci Gelati and their delicious pints of Italian gelato sold at retailers like Whole Paycheck and Yes! Organic Robbery. When I heard they were opening a café in Takoma Park, MD, I was more than thrilled to get a fresh scoop for myself and initiate my son to the joy of gelato before he tasted ice-cream. It's a parenting theory I'm developing called culinary imprinting.

Almond croissant, I worship Thee!

When I first entered the Cafe, I was happy to see an array of croissants on display together with the gelati. Since croissants are one of my favorite things in life, I immediately ordered a scoop of hazelnut gelato and an almond croissant. What can I say? I loved the first one, but I was completely blown away by the second. The croissant was super-buttery, perfectly flaky, but also had a surprising crunch that reminded me of the Neapolitan sfogliatella, the pastry of the Gods. The almond filling was also a surprise: It wasn't the usual almond paste (not that I have anything against it), but it was an luscious, almond-flavored soft custard. 

Just like that, I realizing I was biting into the unexpected and wonderfully humbling evolution of the old croissant into the Nietzschean Übercroissant. (What about the cronut? Well, as the name clearly indicates, it's a step backwards: It's the Cro-Magnon of croissants.)

Nothing plain about this plain croissant.

I immediately asked the teenage cashier where those beautiful croissant came from, and she laconically replied they were made daily for Dolci Gelati by "this guy." I didn't press her further. What I learned from subsequent visits and questioning, is that the croissants are available only on weekends, and that they come in different flavors: plain, almond, chocolate, and piña colada. I tried them all, and they're all great, especially the chocolate ones, whose filling is as soft and pillowy as in the almond croissant.

On Dolci Gelati's website, I then learned that the chef, Gianluigi Dellaccio, trained at the century-old Neapolitan pastryshop Scaturchio, which not only serves one of the best espresso in the world, but PERFECT sfogliatelle as well, which made me wonder if this experience gave the croissants at Dolci Gelati their unique crunch. And by the way, I was lucky enough to have breakfast at Scaturchio every day on a short trip to Naples a few years ago, and I can say every day away from that counter has been, literally, hell on earth. (OK, maybe not literally.)

So, these days my weekend outings in Takoma Park include a gelato, a croissant, and a macchiato. Because the coffee at Dolci Gelati is pretty great, too, in case you were wondering.

Yes, I have three pics. Macchiato and two mini croissants.

SORRY, I'VE BEEN DRAFTED.

Sorry for the long absence from the blog, but as some of you might know, 6 weeks ago my family welcomed a new baby boy, who I will refer to from now on as MicroBee (his older brother is MiniBee, and the father Mr. Bee).

MicroBee is doing great, and he's the kind of newborn who belongs to that mythical species that eats and sleeps all day long. And in the few minutes he's awake, he looks as suspicious as someone whose malfunctioning time-travel machine just landed onto yet another random point in time and space. Hilarious. 

But even though I'm not spending my days topless and in tears like last time, and you will even see me wearing makeup on most days (and yes, I reapply every day), the time to sit down at a computer with both of my hands free to type has been severely curtailed. No worries though, I managed to produce a few drafts filled with food and typos that will be cleaned up and published soon.

For the moment, I'll leave you with a couple of brief reflections on newborns.

HOW COME NEWBORN BABIES LOOK SO SMART?

• They can't smile yet.
• They can't speak yet.
• They either ignore you or stare at you, frowning. 
• They have a large forehead (baldness).

Mr. Know-It-All.

POINTLESS SENSORY EXERCISE FOR NEW PARENTS

Two weeks into your parenting experience, make roasted chicken. The act of rinsing it or rubbing it with spices, combined with your sleeplessness fog, will give you a unique, horrifying experience. Trust me: It's the closest I've come to vegetarianism. 

ROSEMARY'S BABY: BEST PREGNANCY DOCUMENTARY

I know that look.

If you're reading this, it means I've just given birth to my second baby and that I'm therefore too busy/shocked/enraptured/panicked to write new content for the blog. Yes, this post is a rehash of an old one written for the Italian Dead Chef, edited just for you to let you know what I have learned about pregnancy now that I have done it twice.

The greatest revelation I had when I became a mother for the first time was that the horror in Roman Polanski's "Rosemary's Baby" does not lie in its hallucinatory and distorted representation of maternity, but in its extreme and unabashed realism. It should have been awarded an Oscar for Best Documentary. Dear future mothers, let's see how.

Rosemary's Paranoia 

Nausea, fiery and unstoppable heartburn, round ligament pain, insomnia... These are all horrendous symptoms that lead to a total sense of paranoia and hypocondria that you have to keep secret in order to conform to the stereotype of the blessed Earth Mother. The entire destiny of human civilization depends on this.

The Old Meddling Neighbors 

Immediately after you announce your pregnancy, parents and in-laws invade your life with completely unscientific and possibly life-threatening advice that is instead presented as completely valid. Castor oil? A full moon? A night of love to initiate labor?? Are you all out of your minds???

The Birth 

Surrounded by strangers who continually hail to your strength and courage with praise and sporting chants (I'm referring to the doctors, nurses, and midwives in the labor room), you can't help but wonder what their actual investment in the soon-to-be-born baby is. When you finally lay your eyes on your little screaming newborn disgustingly covered in various uterine debris, you realize you just gave birth to the Devil, but you love him/her nonetheless.

The First Days at Home 

After your first 48 hours at home with baby, you will wonder whether you will ever leave your bedroom or wear any clothing from your waist up. Your bedroom becomes a dark cave in which it is always night... the same night.

Your Partner 

As soon as you're home from the hospital, your partner receives a new career-defining project that requires late nights at work. Your family needs the money, but the truth is that your partner's soul is now ownership of Satan. Sorry.

The Cult 

In your case, the Cult is made up of friends who became parents before you. Before the birth, they reveal none of their secrets, only offering trite BS such as awesome post-partum exercises for your abs. But when you call them in tears asking them why breastfeeding is such an unbelievably painful torture, they will nonchalantly reveal to you that they went through the same thing and that for months after the birth of their baby they suffered from PTSD.

The General Atmosphere 

If you stop reading pregnancy and baby books even for a second, you realize your life feels like a Roman Polanski movie.


I'm sorry if this post is going to scare some future mothers-to-be. Please remember, pregnant readers, that this is ultimately only my personal experience.

...

Oh, whom am I kidding? You'll soon join the cult: The birth is only the initiation ritual. See you soon, my dears.


Read it in Italian: ROSEMARY'S BABY: E' tutto vero! 

BEST PIZZA IN THE DC AREA

In the past ten years, DC has experienced a really heartwarming explosion of great pizzerias. I followed this transformation with great joy. I don't go to Italian restaurants often because I think I can either cook Italian staples myself or wait to gorge on real Italian delicacies on my next trip back home. Great pizza, however, cannot be easily replicated in our kitchen and, most importantly, cannot be humanely eaten only once a year (that's what sets us apart from animals, by the way). Here are my picks for best pizza in DC. You'll notice a predilection for Neapolitan-style pizza, but it couldn't be any other way. I went to Naples on a pizza pilgrimage and let me assure you: You'll never going to eat anything as wonderful in your entire life.

DINE-IN PIZZERIAS

#1 Menomale, Brookland (DC)

This Neapolitan pizzeria opened last year, a week before I moved away from that neighborhood (terrible, terrible timing). Founded by a Neapolitan pizzaiolo, this place serves one of the most authentic pizzas I've had out of Naples. The crust is perfectly chewy, salty, and nicely charred, also thanks to a state-of-the-art wood-fired oven that takes about a quarter of the restaurant's space. Some of the toppings puzzle me (chicken? turkey?), but you can't go wrong with their Calzone Verde or their Prosciutto Cotto pizza. They also make pizza-dough sandwiches. They're called "Panuozzo", I tried them all, and they are amazing.

Prosciutto Cotto pizza at Menomale. There are more pics of my 2-year-old eating
a Neapolitan-style pizza than is considered normal.

#2 Pacci's, Silver Spring (MD)

When I first tried their pizza some 3 years ago, I remained speechless for a second, my eyes popping out of their sockets with pure joy. This was for me the first Neapolitan pizza outside DC. The crust was absolutely perfect, and all of their toppings worked wonderfully together. Their "Focaccia di Napoli", a pizza crust topped with prosciutto di Parma, arugula, olive oil, and shaved Parmigiano is perfect. Truth be told, though, I have not been back in a year. The last three times I dined there, I could not see the Neapolitan chef that was there at the beginning, and there was something less exciting about the pizza that I could not identify. It was always very good, but just not as perfect. That's why it takes second place.

#3 Redrocks, Columbia Heights (DC)

I love this place in the summer: It has the perfect Italian pizzeria vibe. Their crust is another success, and the pizza options are very good (I won't go for the pineapple pizza, although you will find it in Italy, too, but that's me). Their roasted olives appetizer is one of my favorite things to eat in this town. Simple, not expensive, delicious, and just fun to eat.

#4 Comet Ping Pong, Chevy Chase (DC)

Tom Sietsema from the Washington Post declared this the best pizza in town a few years ago. I had not tried it then and was skeptical: I had seen the pizzas on a few outings to Comet Ping Pong, and it did not look right. Then I finally dined there, and I have to say I was very impressed. This is not Neapolitan pizza, but it would not disappoint a Neapolitan. The toppings' combinations are unusual, but work amazingly well, and the crust is flavorful and nicely cooked. Sorry, Comet and Tom. You were right. (What's up with their website, though?)

#5 Roscoe's, Takoma Park (MD)

Another Neapolitan-style pizzeria that does a fantastic job with the pizza dough. It's wonderfully soft and chewy, and salted just right. The menu options are a little too foreign for me, so I stick with a Margherita topped with one other ingredient. The Cafone pizza, though, with sausage, rapini, and smoked mozzarella is also a winner. They also make kids' pizzas which are the perfect size for a toddler (and with a couple of crust pieces left for Mamma, thank you very much).

TAKE-OUT & DELIVERY PIZZA

#1 The Italian Store, Arlington (VA)

I'm sure you're not surprised. Who does not know about the fantastic pizza slices at The Italian Store? The dough is chewy and flavorful, the sauce tastes fresh, and there's just the right amount (a ton, but not two) of cheese to make it trashily stellar. Their white pizza with garlic, fontina, and mozzarella is amazing, too, but I would not go beyond one slice. If you're making pizza at home their dough is just the best around. Please stop buying it at Whole Foods or Trader Joe's. This is the real thing.

Home-made pizza with dough from The Italian Store. That's love.

#2 Vace, Cleveland Park (DC)

This is different from any other pizza I've ever had. I suspect this is more like a Sicilian pizza, since the dough is more bready, almost like a focaccia. Any Italian I took to this place LOVES it. The crust is thick, crispy, and flavorful, and the tomato sauce is abundant and delicious (usually you get only the first). Their white pizza with spinach is also one of my favorites. I like to order pizza with ricotta salata, which is not an ingredient you find often on take-out pizza. Vace does also a great job with cured meats, which are fresh, trimmed of unnecessary fat, and sliced thinly as they should be. Not many delis and supermarkets around here can do that, believe me.

#3 La Villa Pizzeria, Upper 14st Street (DC)

I have to admit, I have not ordered many pizzas for delivery since I moved here. I was scarred by the liquid "butter" oozing from my first and last Pizza Hut Supreme, the cardboard-dough of my first and last Domino's pizza (ironically, it was their revamped recipe), and the childishly and insultingly sweet dough and sauce of my first and last Papa John's pizza. When I ordered a pizza from La Villa, though, I was instantly hooked. It is heavy, it is over-cheesed, but oh-my-god after the first bite I could not get it out of my mind for DAYS. Perhaps it's my pregnancy megalo-appetite talking, but I can eat their pizza anytime. And in all fairness, their list of toppings is pretty great, with caramelized onions and roasted eggplants among the choices.


And now for the inevitable question... What about 2Amys? Well, I am really sorry to say this, but it just does not do it for me. I know it's supposed to be authentic Neapolitan pizza, with D.O.C. certification to boot, but this pizza does not taste Neapolitan to me. It's good, but never great, and often the toppings do not quite come together as they should. I went back many times, but I'm always underwhelmed. I will say though that I definitely applaud 2Amys for bringing Neapolitan pizza to DC and back into my expat life. I could not have lived without it, and now you can't, too.

And now, dear reader. What should I add to the list?