LISA IN THE AFTERNOON

In the blink of an eye, my sister Lisa flew into NYC, stirred up a whole lot of trouble and magic and laughter, and then jetted off, just as swiftly as she had arrived, back home to L.A.  It was far too short of a trip, but isn't it always?

Lisa and I are only a year and a half apart, but she will always and forever be my baby sister.  Biet and Lou have a very similar age difference, and I often find myself wondering if they will know the camaraderie and connection that Lisa and I have always had.  I hope they will.

You see, Lisa is the kind of girl that makes you want to live.  She's the kind of girl who makes you want to dress up in your finest and stage a full blown photoshoot right in the middle of the city (we didn't get around to that... this time), sprint through the subways in a floor-length gown like you're in a movie as you run to catch a Broadway show, order the cheapest burger and the fanciest bottle of champagne in the same day just to say that you tried them, take photo booth pictures at four in the morning, and wander the quiet streets aimlessly in the inky shadowed hours of the city night, just because, until you've covered at least a handful of neighborhoods, accidentally happened upon a midnight riot with smoke bombs and police on horseback (which turns out to be an elaborate movie set in a should-have-been-closed city park of which the gates have been left open), and walked walked walked until your feet blistered and you had to either walk home in the middle of the night barefoot like a crazy person or find a 24-hour Duane Reade for emergency bandaids (we may have actually done all of that... and yes we found the Duane Reade).  Lisa is one of those rare gems, a pearl of a girl, who inspires the world without even knowing it.  She's always up for an adventure.  She makes you laugh til you cry, every. single, time.  She sings weird old-timey songs as she puts on her make-up.  And she sends you the best cards on your birthday.

I'm lucky that she's my sister.

The other day Gaby was telling me about the notion, that is prevalent in his culture and that he always seemed to "know" when he was little, that babies choose the family that they're born into.  He said that when he was a very tiny child he always had a "knowing," a certainty of sorts, that he had chosen his Mom.  I found this idea so very beautiful.  I wonder, if it's true, if somehow my sisters and I all chose each other, in a way, then, too... It would certainly make a lot of sense if we did.

On Lisa's last afternoon in the city, we walked through the neighborhood together with Biet and Lou, up and down streets, down through Soho, up along the Bowery.  We found a million little places to go that made us both wish that she could stay here in the city with me forever.  We walked by Cafe Gitane, which was one of the first places we went to for lunch together when she first came to visit me over a decade ago, before the city had ingrained itself into my blood and before Lisa had created her big bright life out west, when we were just two young sisters with nothing to lose and everything to win, and taking ourselves out for lunch at a french cafe was oh so fancy.

Now I have a running list of a dozen "Cafe Gitane's" that we have to try, next time she's in town.  Sans kids, we'll run around the city and take each other out for lunch and then maybe to a gallery or show.  With lots to lose but even more to win, we'll parade and adventure side by side, probably until we're two old ladies with pillbox hats and pastel hair.

So come back soon Lisa, because I miss you terribly and it's nearly lunchtime. xx

A GOLDEN DAY

There's a brief window each year, in between the first warm breeze of spring and the first sticky rush of summer's humidity, when the world is perfect. Winter's stark tree branches suddenly fill with blossoms, the people on the streets slow their buzzing just long enough to smile at one another, and the sun beams a certain cheer across the land.  These are the golden days of New York City.

I'm not sure if I coined "the golden days" or if I heard it somewhere, but each year right around this time, I sense the energy changing on the streets, and feel the sun warming my face, and I know that they're here.  I turn to Gaby and say "they're here, baby- these are the golden days!".  Each year they last for only a couple of weeks before morphing back into mother nature's steady four-season rhythm, but those couple of weeks always feel magical.  It's that in-between time, when the days are long, and the temperature is perfect, and the city is calm and optimistic and cheerful all at the same time.  It's the feeling of wanting to be outside all day long.  It's the feeling of wanting to dance down the street.  It's the feeling of new beginnings.

This year's golden days are upon us now. The city is magnificent. And the only thing to do is to grab your partner in crime, do a jig down the street, share an ice cream, and bestow the beauty all around.  New York City doesn't get much better than this.

HER DRAMATIC LAST DAYS AS AN ONLY CHILD

Don't let that cute face fool you.

I am not sure what has happened to my toddler.  One day, she's a rambunctious nearly-21-month-old, and the next, a blubbering baby again.  A few days ago, Biet decided to boycott all solid food, all naps, bedtimes, and routine in general.  She began waking up every couple of hours all through the night.  She completely stopped telling me "poo!" when she wanted to sit on her potty (and since we have come so far, so effortlessly, this one is throwing me for a loop).  She decided that bottles of goat milk and almond milk are all that she will consume, and flat out throws a temper tantrum when I try to give her any real food.  And she wants to nurse about 15 hours a day.  I am exhausted.

I've heard of children regressing in behavior once a new sibling comes along, but before they arrive? Could it be?? Gaby is convinced that she senses change afoot and somehow knows that a new baby is on his way to kick her out of her throne (he tells me this every day with more and more excitement in his voice, saying "Maybe she's acting like this because he is coming today!" He cannot wait).  I have a feeling that her yet-to-emerge canine teeth may have something to do with it.  Regardless, I am beginning to feel the tiniest bit of anxiety about having two.

Just as we were settling into peaceful routine in anticipation of this baby boy, and just as I was really beginning to feel empowered at the notion of attending to children, Biet's complete reversal to babyhood has me questioning myself and doubting my capabilities.  How much sleep deprivation will I be able to handle?  How in the world am I supposed to change two diapers at once, in the middle of the night?  Is tandem nursing going to be absolutely insane? (and how exactly will that work out in public? On the subway? In a restaurant?).  Will we be driven completely insane?

Of course, I know that we'll figure out how to be a family of four in due time, and that I'll figure out how to live with the challenges of being a mother of two closely-spaced babes one day at a time.  I know that after this birth, all of the love and beauty in our family will be magnified beyond what we could have ever imagined.  I know this in my heart, and I keep repeating it to myself.

I just hope that this darling little girl of mine eases up with her stubbornness and lets me help ease her back into some sort of eating and sleeping routine, because we are all too tired to keep up with this madness.  And I hope that I can somehow make her understand that she will always be my baby girl, no matter how many others may come after her.

*My yellow neck cowl was made by the lovely Hannah*

BIET'S FIRST BOOK SIGNING

The other morning we headed over to one of my all time favorite shops in the city, the MOMA Store, for a reading and book signing by the one and only Mo Willems.  If you're not familiar with his work, you should check out his Pigeon Presents series- they are so much fun for kids to read!  Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus was one of Biet's first favorite books, and really one of the most innovative children's stories I've read. And if you're raising a little one in NYC, Knuffle Bunny, one of his less popular but absolutely amazing earlier works, is a must too.

The downstairs level of the store, with its beautiful rows of literature, Eames display furniture, limited edition prints, and hanging modern art pieces, was spilling over with eager children of all ages, running and yelling and clutching their hard-cover books waiting to meet Mo.  Never have I seen such a collision of culture, art, mayhem, and diapers.  Biet ran the aisles, tried to eat the receipt from the newest addition to her home library, Don't Let the Pigeon Stay Up Late, and made a few friends.  Mo was super sweet.  He drew a little Pigeon inside the front page of her book and posed with us for a picture.  I'm not sure that Biet really grasped the concept of it all, but she certainly had fun (the kids' section, which she loved, is uhhhmazing- I know where I'm shopping for new toys when Biet's second birthday rolls around!). After we left and stepped back out into the chilly morning, we decided to do the only thing that seemed appropriate after such a momentous occasion: go to the park to let Biet chase the pigeons.

05/52

* A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013. * 

Biet: In a Soho playground that belonged to her alone on this twenty-six degree morning, smiling and running like a madwoman as her parents shiver on the sidelines; She's one tough cookie.

SoHo Morning

Lately, it seems as if everyone keeps asking me the same new-parent question: Do you get ANY sleep with a baby (especially co-sleeping, as we've chosen to do). And the answer is: In a way. In a way, we get all the sleep we need. It's a different kind of rest than what we were accustomed to before [becoming parents], but we get by. Basically, instead of getting a long, peaceful, 8 straight hours of slumber, I get a series of 2-3 hour spurts all night. It's different, but not impossible. Both Gaby and I were a bit sluggish/snappy/crazy for the first couple of months (I now understand why sleep deprivation has historically been used as a form of torture), but I think my body has finally acclimated to this new pattern.

A major reason why we are feeling good and getting by more easily now is that Gaby and I have discovered a way to help each other out A LOT. We have a little system to assure that neither one of us get's too sleep deprived. Basically, we alternate days of early waking. Little Biet wakes up like a firecracker every single morning at around 9am on the dot. I realize that 9am is a great hour to wake up for most people, but for us its pretty darn early (we work nights & are a couple of city night owls). So when we hear her tiny voice babbling as the morning light shines through the window, one of us will roll out of bed, dress, eat, feed the dog, clothe baby girl, and then take everyone out for a L-O-N-G walk. After a couple hours of walking & playing fetch with Nico & saying g'mornin to the neighborhood (+ the occasional stop at the pet store or the cheese shop or our favorite baker or the farmers' market), the early-rising parent arrives home feeling very accomplished, and finds the late-rising parent feeling very rested. We alternate positions daily. And we are both happy. Actually, all 4 of us are happy.

This morning was my turn to jump out of bed. I find it easier and easier to do as the days pass. I made a smoothie, threw on some clothes, and stepped out into the day. It was a BEAUTIFUL morning today in NYC; Just perfect for strolling: bright and breezy and energetic. I decided to take the girls on a little outing to... Sephora(!).

As the morning passed, I kept experiencing brief moments, little instances, that reminded me: "You are a Mother now." First of all, as I crossed Bowery to Bleeker and headed towards SoHo, I noticed a woman wearing an adorable Marc by Marc Jacobs dress that I've been eyeing (WAY out of my price range, for now) with cute yellow heels. The first thought in my head was of how I couldn't possibly wear Biet wrapped on me in heels like that, so I'd have to choose flats to go with that dress (in my dreamland, of course, where I owned this woman's entire outfit). Then I realized that I had hardly worn heels at all since becoming pregnant, but somehow I'm ok with that. Definitely a Mom moment.

We continued on our way, and at Houston street the little red hand on the crosswalk began blinking just as we approached the corner. I often, no ALWAYS, charge through intersections to beat the red light in a "we can make it!" sort of way. That's just how you cross streets in NYC.  Not this time.  Now that I have a tiny baby with me, I see horrific flashes of myself tripping in the middle of the street, dropping Nico's leash, clutching my baby on the ground and looking up to see the crosswalk turn red and a row of crazed taxi cabs barreling towards me. That vision stops me in my tracks, and I calmly await the next green light.

On to SoHo. We arrive at Sephora, and the door is locked. What's going on?! Did their employees not show up to open the store today? Is it a private event that's closed to the public?? Maybe something was damaged during the hurricane and they're temporarily closed??? No. They simply don't open until 10am. I am not used to this. In fact, this may have never happened to me. I am usually scrambling to make it to stores before they close. I never arrive too early. Until now. Now that I am a Mom.

So we walked around SoHo for awhile, gazing up at the majestic buildings, imagining owning a floor of one someday. I stopped in at Olive's for a cup of coffee, and the words coming out of my mouth belonged to someone else: Do you have decaf coffee? None made, that's ok- decaf espresso? Do you know if the milk you use is from rbgh-free cows? No, RBGH, its a hormone, oh, its ok- do you have soy milk? May I have a double decaf soy latte please. Thank you! The decaf requirement (and it is most definitely a requirement, as I discovered early on when a couple cups of coffee turned Biet into a crazy baby for a couple days) has turned me into an annoyingly picky customer. Sorry coffee shops across NYC, but I'm a Mother now so that's the way it's gotta be.

I walked on, baby on my chest, purse on my shoulder, leash in one hand, coffee cup in the other, feeling very proud at being able to balance it all whilst still enjoying myself.  We got to the door of Sephora just as they were unlocking it. I tied Nico outside, finished my coffee, and headed in. I honestly had no idea how lovely morning shopping is.  No crowd. Everything stocked.  The salespeople aren't worn out and hungry yet, so they're remarkably helpful & kind.  It was amazing. I wanted to try everything on (I usually get a bit carried away and end up leaving Sephora looking like a lady of the night) and buy a whole new set of make-up. Then I remembered my new policy on products: everything natural, no parabens, no chemicals, & preferably organic. Now that I feed a tiny person from my body, I have become so very cautious as to what I put in & on it.  Another Motherly moment: The candy-colored wonderland that is Sephora, filled with thousands of brands of fantastical make-up just waiting to be applied, suddenly became just a couple of shelves of simple, albeit very nice, cosmetics.  I discovered some new brands (that I really love so far) and did still get carried away dressing up my tired eyes, but my newfound standards (which by the way are just as much for me as they are for Biet) certainly limited my choices. Once again, oh well; another little change.

I scooped up my family (Biet had seen enough and was now sleeping peacefully on me) & my new purchases and strolled back home- through Soho, NoHo, the Bowery, & on to our quiet block of the East Village. Gaby was still sleeping. I put on some coffee and climbed back into bed for a minute. I'm looking forward to my turn at sleeping in tomorrow.   Did I just say I was excited to sleep? I guess I am a Mother now.

Walking with Baby

Just a couple shots of Gaby & me walking around our neighborhood with Biet, in her Phil & Ted's stroller (the generous baby shower gift from my bosses over at Alias- thank you thank you thank you!). I truly love it's modern carriage design and, I can't believe I'm saying this about a stroller, feel both proud and cool pushing my daughter around town in it. I also wear Biet wrapped on me a lot of the time, and that feels just as cool. When Gaby takes the baby out for her morning walk- a daily ritual that gives them both time together & also gives me a quiet hour to myself- he gets all the ladies ooh-ing and aww-ing over what a cute Dad he is. And if he walks Nico & Biet together, forget it- it's a double cuteness whammy and women flock. So here we are, two stroller people (so weird but we're getting used to it).

A Father's Day Moonlight Picnic

Growing up, my Dad always told us three girls that the best gift he could receive on a holiday was something handmade by us. In lieu of a new shirt or tie, we would make Dad a painting or picture frame or home-cooked meal. That's just how we did holidays.

So for Biet's first Father's Day with her Papa, I contemplated making a little card for Gaby "signed" by her, but reconsidered. I want this to be her and her father's holiday. I want him to begin receiving cards as soon as she is big enough to make them. I want each year for his gift to be handmade, from the heart, & from her.
So instead of gifts, we celebrated with an all-day outing through the West Village that included a trip to the bakery, the record shop, & one of our favorite Italian dinner spots. Biet stayed strapped to her Papa the whole time.


Along the way, we spotted one of the street pianos (upright pianos placed in outdoor spaces all around NYC for public use by an amazing organization called Sing For Hope) and wandered over. A man sat down and started serenading Gaby & Biet, who both began dancing to the old-timey song, which started the whole street corner dancing, which elicited excited barking from Nico, which caused everyone to burst out laughing. Spontaneous corner dance parties: yet another reason why I love this city.



When we finally made it down Sullivan street to the restaurant, it was full (all 3 tables) & we were starving. So we ordered to-go & had a little moonlight picnic at the park instead. The air was summery warm and the city seemed so quiet as we dined alone in the park. It is a day I will not soon forget. And that memory is better than any card.

1 Month of Motherhood

I am proud to say that I have been a mother to lovely Biet for 1 month now. I am so in love with my daughter, and more in love than ever with my husband. When people ask me how it is to be a parent, the most fitting answer I can give is "normal." Is it exciting? At first, absolutely! Is it hard? Not terribly once you adjust your schedule. Is it magical? Of course, but life in this city always has been. More than anything, it feels truly normal and natural to have this little one around. Life has simply continued on as always, except perhaps a bit slower at times. That is one thing that motherhood taught me right away- life now runs by a different clock. Something that used to take one hour suddenly takes three hours to accomplish with a baby. Biet has slowed down the pace of our days, and its ok, its actually really good for us. We stop to smell the roses now, and to enjoy the season, and to adore our baby.

Here are a few other lessons I have learned thus far:

* When you're out and about, always take more diapers than you anticipate needing. Like ice at a dinner party, you will inevitably run out and need to go buy more (or as in our case as cloth diapering novices, need to improvise with anything made out of soft fabric).

* Never ever ever ever try to use those itsy bitsy baby nail clippers. They nick the tips of baby fingers, which results in bleeding & screaming & you feeling like a horrible mother. Invest $15 on small safety scissors instead. They work.

* Let your baby decide what makes them happy, not trends nor marketers nor tradition. Many products made for babies are not more useful than their simpler counterparts. Biet prefers olive oil over diaper cream, Bob Dylan over nursery rhymes, city sights & sounds over mobiles, and being naked over the cutest newborn outfits, any day.

* With a bit of practice, you can become a diaper master, able to change a baby anywhere! You learn to improvise everywhere with a baby in the city. I change Biet on the subway, on my lap, on park benches, cafe banquets, in taxis, and here on the stone chessboard table at the Soho playground: