THE SLING DIARIES: TRADITION

We rush from the bagel shop, paper bag in hand, through the turnstile, and down the staircase to the platform.  The train screeches into the station, pushing before it a gust of perfectly dirty air, and you look up at me excitedly and sing "oooooh!".  The train is so loud that I can't actually hear your bright voice, but I know your expressions well enough to read your lips.  We step on, find a seat, and devour our bagel with cream cheese.  When we are done, you want to stand, as you always do.  You reach out your hand and repeat, "bar? bar?" until I move close enough to a bar for you to grab ahold.  We hold on together, gaze out the window, and ride downtown.

You don't know where we are going, but you are happy just to be going.  You always want to move, explore, and run through the city.  Sometimes I feel like if we didn't stop once in a while to take a nap or take a picture, you would never stop moving forward.

You also don't know that Mama's hips, which so gracefully hold you up in your sling, sway with you on the moving train, and walk you through the stations and through the city, also hold up the weight of another little person- your little brother who is due to arrive in just 9 days.  But until his arrival, Mama's hips belong to you alone, and that is fine with me.

We wave goodbye to our fellow passengers and hop out of the subway car.  I climb the stairs to the next platform, where we will wait for our next train.  Just as we reach the top of the staircase, I feel your head rest upon my shoulder, and I know that your nap time has come.  Your head becomes heavier with the weight of sleep, and I pace the white tiled platform until you fall into slumber, humming to you all the while.  I worry for a second that the deep rumbling echoes of passing trains will wake you, but you seem to be soothed by the commotion all around, and burrow further into my shoulder.  I will make the last leg of our journey silently, with your Papa at my side, while you rest.

When we finally emerge from the maze of subway tunnels into the bustling streets of downtown, the sun has become slightly dimmer and the air slightly chillier.  I do not worry about you, though, as you now have my body heat to stay warm, as I have yours.  We stop in to our favorite bakery and then stroll up the avenue, through the park where your Papa and I were wed, and into a dark cozy doorway.  However, just a few blocks before we arrive, your head shoots up, you look around, and you give me a kiss.  Just in time.

Your Papa and I present you with a cookie as a special treat, and you are the happiest girl in the world. We all pass through the dark doorway into a room of old tables and cushioned chairs.  Only two other people are sitting in the room, and they eye us mysteriously.  We make our way to the back, and there she is, glowing brightly behind her faded red curtain- a little booth that has become a tradition of ours over the years.  Our very favorite photo booth.

Your Papa and I took photos in this booth on our first date.  We went back on my birthday a few months later, and then back again, just for fun, many many times.  When Nico joined our family, we carried our little puppy into the booth and snapped photos of our "baby".  When you were tiny, we took you there too.  And now, with Mama's belly being so big and round, we decided to continue the tradition.

Although we no longer live just down the street from here, we still consider this antique photo booth to be "ours".  It has seen us grow from wild young things, to a head over heels couple, to a blossoming family.  And now it will see you and your brother grow too. Yes, this little photo booth has documented every milestone over the years, and your Papa and I love it dearly.  It is our little New York tradition.

This post is the fifth installment of the Sakura Bloom Sling Diaries. You can see all previous entries here.  I am wearing the Simple Linen Baby Sling in Organic Maple.

"MAMA!"

I open my tired eyes in the morning and roll over in bed, squinting as her round little face comes into focus.  There she stands, her face just inches away from mine, at my bedside.  As she eagerly waits to be lifted onto the white pillowy land of the big bed, she looks me in the eyes and exclaims,
"Mama!"
"Good morning Biet."
Then she rattles off a sentence in baby babble, which I imagine to mean something along the lines of its so nice to see you this morning.  And from here on out, the "Mama's!" never stop.

Sometimes she wants to get my attention. Sometimes she wants to tell me a story. Sometimes she simply wants to sing her "Mama! Mama! Mama!" song.  Sometimes the back and forth between us ("Mama!" "Yes, Biet?" "blahahablahabaaha!".... "Mama!" "Yes, Biet?" "hahadododo!"...) is pure entertainment.

As we stroll down the street on a chilly autumn eve, her booming bright voice calls out my name over and over and over and over.  Every passing taxi cab, every smiling stranger, every flashing city light, and every bump in the sidewalk warrants an excited "Mama!".

Then, just as I'm thinking to myself that I must have heard her call out my name about 75,000 times that day, she falls silent. I peek over the edge of the stroller to find her eyes gently closed, and her happy tired face finally slumbering after a long day.

Finally, Gaby and I can have a decent baby-free conversation, free of slobbery bursts of babble and nonsensical sounds and songs.  Finally, a bit of peace and quiet and normalcy.

And then the funniest thing happens.
After only a couple of blocks, everything feels a little too quiet. I miss the excited nonstop "Mama's!".  Her pretty happy little cries have become my new normal.  And as much as I cherish this silent time, I look forward to the next morning when her voice will once again call out my name.

NEW YORK CITY IS DARK

No electricity. No heat. No hot water. Lower Manhattan is dark. In the wake of this storm, the bottom half of the island, along with parts of Brooklyn, huge areas of New Jersey, all along the coast of Queens, and the entirety of Staten Island, is suffering.  So many people are struggling right now to find basic necessities, and to be reunited with their loved ones, and it is heartbreaking.

Gaby and I rented a car the day after the hurricane to drive over the bridge, towards the darkened skyline, and into the pitch black maze of downtown.  As we left the dim-lit bridge and descended into a blackened metropolis, a sense of doom overtook us. The sight was eery. The towering buildings reached towards the moon as massive gray silhouettes, flickering candlelight glowing from the occasional window.  The streets were silent and lawless, peppered with beams of light from the few passing cars, no traffic lights for miles.  People huddled with flashlights to navigate the streets, making their way to the refuge of the handful of brave candlelit bars and restaurants that had managed to somehow open.  Nobody seemed fearful, but you could feel the desperation building.

We wandered the streets and took it all in.  We tried to find friends to recruit back to Brooklyn for hot food and hot showers. Without any cellphone reception downtown, people are flocking together in their communities, helping one another.  The collective courage is amazing.  I am so sad for my city, but so proud of its people.

Like the way your love for someone quadruples when you risk losing them, or how you don't fully realize how much you care about something until it is wounded or gone, my adoration for this city has never been stronger.  I am so grateful for all that we have, and for somehow getting through this storm with such good fortune.  Every time I do the dishes, turn on a light, give Biet a bath, or cook food, I am filled with gratitude.  My heart goes out to all of our friends and old neighbors, just a few miles away, who are suffering.  But I know the city will come out stronger on the other side of this catastrophe. And, with heartfelt honesty, I can say that I love New York City more than ever.

UNION SQUARE

Biet and I took a little break from the heat the other day to lay on the cool grass in Union Square.  She nursed, played with dirt, and ripped out chunks of grass from the lawn. Good times.  I used to come to Union Square all of the time during my first years in New York.  The park was a bit more run down then and less of a shopping mecca, and I would people watch and sip coffee and marvel at the diversity of my new city.  You weren't allowed on the grass in those days (they were trying to grow it nice and green and thick- all the better for little baby hands to hold onto as they pull it out), so I would sit on the benches, sometimes for hours, striking up conversations with all of the people who sat down next to me. Some of them were amazing and some of them were crazies, but I loved getting to talk to so many New York characters.  I came to this park during the black out (when we all broke the rules and layed on the grass) and listened to the news updates on a little portable radio (you know, back in the day of non-internet radio broadcasting).  I would look up at the buildings and imagine what it must have been like when Andy Warhol had his factory here in the 60's.  This park, for me, was a place for dreaming.

Now I bring my little one here, to meet her own friends, and to make her own memories.  The west side of the park now houses a row of food trucks, so we grabbed a raw spiced nut milk (which was absolutely delicious) and shared it on the lawn.  A statue of Andy has been erected in front of the old factory building, so we stopped by there too. The park's awesome new playground will be perfect for Biet as soon as she takes to walking (the girl likes to take her time with these things. I'm not complaining), and will be so much fun as she grows.  Union Square is really becoming something grand, and even more lively.  And with all of its upgrades, it is still a place for dreaming.  So until next time, Union Square..

TOMPKINS SQUARE PARK

We met our dear friends at Tompkins Square Park the other day to celebrate the birthday of their gorgeous little one, Ava, who was born just three days after Biet.  We all met in our Bradley class when these babes were still in our bellies, and have done our best to meet up every now and again for playdates.  This one was the best yet.

The whole park was in bloom and brimming with summertime energy. They brought home-pressed cherry juice and baked amazing mini cakes for a little picnic.  It was really a beautiful afternoon.

Biet and Ava, for the first time, really played with one another (and with the dirt on the ground and with the toys and with their food), and it was magical.  They had so much fun. Biet, who sadly never ever gets a chance to play with balls (thanks to a certain pit bull who goes crazy for anything of a spherical shape), adored playing catch with Ava.  She fell in love with that pink bouncy ball.

And it turns out that Nico has given Biet some useful experience in the world of sharing.  Ava had a great time sitting in for Nico and letting Biet feed her over and over and over.. one bite for Biet, one bite for Nico Ava.  Just like at home, except instead of driving me crazy it was kind of the cutest thing ever.

After our farewells Gaby and I walked in between the two big trees where we were married and reminisced a bit.  My how much has changed since that winter afternoon three and a half years ago... it truly just keeps getting better.

Biet's Jersey Shorts w/Braces c/o LITTLE VINTAGE

LISA'S LAST DAY

One by one our visitors, my family, our family, left to go back home to the West coast.  They packed up their things, hugged and kissed us, hopped in livery cabs, and drove to the airport to board their planes and fly away.  When Emmy left with the boys in the wee hours of the darkened early morning, I sleepily crawled out of bed to say my goodbyes.  Just as they were walking down the wooden staircase to the car waiting out front, Beckett turned to Gaby and asked, "Next time, can you come to my house? And can you bring my friend?" Gaby repeated "bring your friend?" and Beckett replied "Yes, I want you to bring my friend over to my house please." And then Gaby understood.  Beckett wanted his cousin Biet to come play. And Gaby said yes (of course). And that moment right then meant everything.

Now they know each other, a one-year-old and her three-year-old cousin.  And though they may be miles apart, they now have each other. And growing up in a family where my siblings meant just about everything in the whole world to me, this warmed my heart.  Her time with Beckett (and Dashiell too- although she really connected with Beckett) was Biet's most important first birthday gift.

The morning after they left, I got to spend the entire afternoon with Lisa!  No husband. No babies.  Just me and my little sister in the big city.  And even with the pesky skies deciding to be stormy, we had such a fun time.  I miss running around with Lisa taking photos.  She is and will always be my favorite model. We spent the day on the streets and in the shops of the Lower East Side and East Village, stopping in at a few old favorites and ending with a major pastry purchase from Black Hound Bakery.

Then we went home and consumed boxes and boxes of pastries before she too left for the airport.  It was kind of ridiculous.  But so, so good.

Sunday

Our whirlwind of a weekend wrapped up on Sunday with a little family time in the morning and party time in the afternoon.  The morning began with a smidgen of extra sleep (thank you! thank you! baby girl for letting us sleep in until almost 10am!) and a houseful of music.  As we sipped our coffee and enjoyed our breakfast together, Gaby serenaded his girls with a few songs on his guitar. We loved it. Biet swayed to the music and, once in a while, joined in with her tiny voice.  I just sat there and soaked in the feeling of being with the two people I love most in the world, in my favorite city in the world, listening to my husband's beautiful voice.

One train ride later and we were back in the old neighborhood, the East Village, to attend the very special birthday party of Biet's friend Dacien. He turned one! Seeing as it was Biet's very first birthday party, we were super excited. We did our hair, dressed up nice, found the perfect gift, and strolled into the party. And... Biet began screaming. She was tired and didn't want to play with any of the other babies (or even be touched by anyone other than me, not even her Papa!), didn't want to eat, and most definitely didn't want to sit on the mat and listen to the live music. We lasted about 15 minutes and had to leave- not the most successful party experience.  As soon as she was back in her stroller walking around the city with the buildings & the traffic & the noise, she was once again content.  This little bird of mine really is a true city girl. 

She later fell asleep, and I went on to work the night shift at the restaurant, while Gaby went on pushing her through the city, back on the subway, and finally home to her crib. I look forward to beginning our new day tomorrow with a new cup of coffee (decaf for me), and a new song. It's my favorite way to start the day.

..and I'm hoping that baby girl grows a bit more comfortable with the whole party thing before her very first birthday rolls around in a few weeks.. 

Look at those tired baby eyes!

a Lunch Date

The Mister, the Misses, and the baby headed out today for a little family lunch date in the East Village {goodness do I miss the East Village!}, at a peaceful little café called The Hummus Place. Baby girl's newfound love of hummus (rivaled only by her father's) may have had a little something to do with our choice of eatery. They serve, hands down, the best hummus in NYC. As we sat by the window on this gloriously warm January day, exchanging crazy apartment-roaming stories from our single days, I felt an intense wave of reassurance. It was the sense of feeling at home, safe and sound. In a little cafe on a little street in a big city, I felt at home, and at ease, because of my family. It's not often, these days, that we venture out leisurely together, especially out to lunch! It was so nice to spend this time with them and forget the rest of the world for a few moments. Biet slept through the whole thing (at her favorite restaurant- go figure!) so we ordered some hummus to-go for her, which she devoured for dinner. She wore a fat happy smile for the rest of the night. I can't wait for our family's next lunch date!

New {Yorker} Friend Friday

Here is the first post of a new series I'm trying out, called "New {Yorker} Friend Friday," where I will share about a fellow New Yorker whom Biet befriends each week.  Of course, this means that we need to get ourselves out and about in the city and make some new friends!  With a face like hers, though, I doubt baby girl will have any trouble on that end.

We live in a city with eight million other people. Its so easy to go about my day, working long hours & running errands & riding the subway & moving about the hustle and bustle, and forget to stop and chat with the person standing next to me; forget to ask someone else how their day is. With so many people moving about this grand city, I just know that there are some spectacular friendships to be had. I want Biet to feel a deep connection to her neighbors, to her community, and to her city. And I think the best way to foster this is to slow down and reach out to our fellow New Yorkers. 

So it might happen at the coffee shop or deli as we order a bagel with cream cheese.  It might happen at a crosswalk waiting for the light to turn.  It might happen in the park, or at the museum, or in the grocery store.  It might happen when we're all out to eat as a family, or in the back of a taxi riding uptown, or squeezed into a packed subway car.  It might happen on the other side of town, or right here in our apartment building. A smile, a conversation, a new friend.  

Biet met her first new friend at Union Square Station, waiting for the Q train. It had been a long day, we were both tired and cranky and itching to get home. Then we heard a strong drumbeat and a cheerful song coming from the middle of the platform, and we met her new friend, Mr. Drummer Man. While we didn't actually exchange names with him (that would have required him to stop playing and man oh man was he on a roll!), he did drum little Biet to sleep. He completely turned our day around, and gave me a much-needed reminder of why I love NYC so very much. Plus, he was more than happy to pose with baby girl! So here's to new friends, friends!