There is nothing like Halloween in the North End…so I discovered. I came home a bit early from work on the 31st and bumped into Megan and Caleb (she beat me to the pickup) and a bunch of his friends having a snack at a local sandwich shop. They were having a blast drinking from juice boxes and having grilled cheese sandwiches. From there, we tooled around Hanover Street (the primary shopping/eating/strolling street in our neighborhood — the “downtown,” if you will) and trick-or-treated from a ton of local businesses. I was very impressed with the number of businesses that were actively participating.

A few days earlier, there was a neighborhood party for babies and toddlers held at a local rec center. It was somewhat chaotic, but probably only for some of the parents (I’d put myself in that group). Caleb had a blast — click here or on the image above to see more!

I have no idea what we were making in the images below, but Caleb seems like he was having a good time. Whenever I cook, which is less often than I’d like, I have Caleb help me out. At first, I would include him as a way to keep an eye on him or otherwise give him something to do so I could focus on not burning myself or chopping off more than the end of a carrot. I also secretly wanted him to LOVE to cook and figured that it would never be too early to expose him to the ins and outs of simple food prep.

…Enter his wicked garlic peeling skills. If I have cooked for you before, you know that I am somewhat attached to three core ingredients: fresh garlic (minced, not pressed), olive oil, and fresh ground pepper. While the oil and pepper are almost effortless afterthoughts, fresh garlic takes a bit of time to steer it from messy clove to perfectly minced yumminess. I don’t know about you, but to me, the most challenging part of the process is getting the peel off. And yes, I’ve tried a number of methods, but none seem to suit my rather persnickety fancy.

• Garlic presses (when used with clean or non de-skinned garlic) take all of the pleasure out of handling and prepping garlic, plus they are challenging to clean;
• Those little rubber tubes that you roll the clove in work amazingly well, but never seem to want to let go of the garlic skin flakes; and,
• A pressure smack through a chef’s knife, unless done perfectly, invariably crushes the clove too much for my tastes (perhaps I am too touchy about the way I like my garlic).

Caleb’s method, on the other hand, produces perfect results every time. He pulls up a chair, stands on it next to me, and makes sure he removes every last piece of the garlic skin with his tiny fingers. His method is probably the most laborious, but I don’t think I can cook with garlic anymore unless he has done the legwork.

Enough about garlic. The real point of this post was to have a reason to share the photos below, but also to make a case for cooking with your children. I wouldn’t consider myself the best cook in the world, but I think that I can muster up a few good dishes if the need arises. Making sure Caleb has some skill in making himself and others a meal is a good idea in my book.

Also, and perhaps more important than the practical aspects of knowing how to “cook,” I find the process incredibly relaxing and grounding. A monotonous or stressful day at the office seems readily remedied by a bit of cooking. I know preschool will likely be a chore at times as well, and I’m looking forward to watching Caleb come home one day and unwind by assembling with pride the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

This shot is a few weeks old (it was taken just before one of the World Series games) but one of my favorites. I was working on my laptop and Caleb was drawing on his pad of paper. Megan grabbed the decisive moment…

Caleb is entering that cusp-of-serious-conversation phase. Here are a few conversations we had today:

Sometime early this morning…
Me to Megan: “Blah, blah blah, blah-blah. Blah, payroll, blah-blabitty-blah blah.”
Caleb: “What’s ‘payroll’ Daddy?”

..and then sometime this evening…
Me: “Caleb, please put your hat on forward.”
Caleb: “No Daddy, I don’t want my hat forward, I want it backward.”
Me: “Say ‘No thank you.’”
Caleb: “No thank you.”
Me: “Caleb, please put your hat on forward.”
Caleb: “No thank you Daddy, I don’t want to.”
Me: “Why Caleb? Why don’t you want it forward?”
Caleb: “‘Cause I want it backward.”
Me: “Why?”
Caleb: [Seems to ignore me and resorts to playing with his cars...]
Me: “…Why Caleb? Why do you want it backward?”
Caleb: “‘Cause Daddy, I don’t want it forward!”

During our trip to Cape Cod, Caleb and I came across a Korean War memorial and from the depths of my memory, I suddenly remembered that I have a grandfather living somewhere. Rather than unleash a rather unpleasant stream of details, I’ll give you the high-level info. (Click on the photo for a slide show.)

My grandfather (my only living grandparent) has had Alzheimer’s Disease for a very long time. As a result, perhaps, as I was growing up, not only did my family not see him much (we were in California and despite a stint living with my family, he resided mainly on the East Coast) but we didn’t talk about him that much either. In short, little of my life for the past 15-20 years has involved the presence of my grandfather.

(As an aside, this definitely disturbs me. It is astonishing how someone as important as a grandparent can be forgotten over the years.)

After a few days of legwork contacting relatives as well as my parents, I finally found out where my grandfather is located. It turns out he is in a specialized home near White Plains, NY, about an hour from where we had been just weekends before. It took a few minutes to decide whether or not to book a room nearby for later that evening, or starting the next day. I opted for the former and after rounding up Caleb, Megan, and our dog Nadine, we were off to see my grandfather.

At the expense of being too vague, I’ll eliminate the bulk of the details of the trip. Quite frankly, though it might appear that I am comfortable laying out a full set of details about what my family and I experience, there are some things, quite a few perhaps, that are simply too personal to write about. A visit with a dying man I haven’t seen, spoken to, or heard much about since I was an adolescent, certainly falls into that camp.

I will say, however, that as hard as it was, I am very glad we made the trip. Caleb enjoyed meeting his great grandfather, Megan enjoyed meeting him as well, and I think he very much enjoyed having a fresh face stop by for a change.

And yes, we will be back soon.

When we stop and think about it, Caleb has been to a lot of places for a two-year-old. So far he has been to 15 states, and we have a few more trips in the coming months planned including a relaxing vacation in Mexico. I know that the common perception about traveling with young children is that it is a waste as they are unlikely to remember things, but I can confidently say that whether he remembers the trips or not, they are very powerful events for him. Each time we travel, he seems to have jumped months ahead by the time we get home. It’s almost as if when we leave for a trip with him he was bogged down in monotony, but by the time we return home he becomes energized and ready to grab life by the horns again.

If you want to see where Caleb has been, click on the map below for a larger image.

Caleb and I took a long walk around the North End this morning and stopped every once in a while to play for a bit. We spent most of our time entrenched at Christopher Columbus Park where Caleb made dozens of rounds back and forth over this makeshift obstacle course he found. (Who knew that a series of tree planters, curbs, and a few sticks could provide such entertainment?)

Suffice it to say, I think he was a bit worn out by the time his afternoon nap rolled around. He was playing quietly next to me while I tapped away on my laptop — I was finishing up something quickly before I put him to bed. I noticed that he wasn’t making any more noise (he had been making car motor sounds) and looked over to see what he was doing. He had rested his head on a kitchen chair and seemed to be sleeping. He was still standing up and looked rather uncomfortable. I grabbed our camera and took the video below:

These photos are only two weeks late… I was sparse with the image directions as well, and I am almost certain that I spelled half of the names listed incorrectly. Enjoy (be sure to click on the image below for the slideshow)!

 rcv yd

hhhhjkyy

hib daaafd99gghy!

hi da4dd3yh

(I’m trying to tell him the keys to push, but after a good start, it kind of turns into a game…)

hi dZS

huk

h,

hi dadddddy!

(Success!!!)