A Daughter Grows

A feisty little personality is beginning to emerge from this daughter of ours. All of a sudden, she has strong likes {Mama's homemade vegetable soup, showers, hide and seek with Nico} and dislikes {having her face wiped clean, when she's not fed quickly enough, getting woken up before she's ready to face the day}, and she has no trouble whatsoever letting everyone know. Her joy now manifests in deep jolly belly laughs, and its kind of the most amazing sound I've ever heard in all of my days. I look at her and I see not a baby, but a brown-haired little girl. Part of me wants to stop time this very second, and hold onto my babe forever. But another part of me just can't wait to see my little bird grow into a full-fledged New Yorker. At any rate, she is definitely becoming quite the Daddy's girl. Those two, let me tell you: they are two peas from the same pod, two pierogies from the same pot, two scoops of Chunky Monkey from the same pint. Give the girl a full belly and her Papa (preferably playing his guitar), and she's the happiest baby in all of Brooklyn. And Gaby is one happy Papa, too.

1, 2, 3, 4 . .

Thanks for the blocks Aunt Christy & Uncle Jim!

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!

reading

Biet has been loving books lately. She begins to sing and flail her arms about each time I sit down with her to read a story. She tries to read along herself in her baby babble voice & turns the pages until the end, sometimes in a frenzy and sometimes slowing down to observe the pictures.  It brings me so very much joy to see her discovering something which I love so dearly.  They say that children become readers on the laps of their parents.  If that is true, then baby girl is set.

I never realized how entertaining some of those children's books are! I always loved certain authors as a child (my #1 favorite being Dr. Seuss), and now, returning back to those stories, I see that they really had substance!  Our reading time is as thrilling for me as it is for Biet, and I am always excited to begin a new book we haven't read before.  I feel that she can sense this excitement about reading, and I hope it will help her to build a healthy long-term love of reading.  If she is anything like me, she will be devouring novels by the time she can walk.

Sometimes I think about writing and illustrating our very own children's book, starring Baby Biet and Nico the Dog, chronicling all of their adventures about town {ok, this was actually Gaby's brilliant idea}, for her to read now and as she grows. Perhaps this will be our winter project..

We Will Survive

I must digress from my usual optimism, because it's been one of those days.  The kind of day where everything seems to be falling apart, luck is nowhere to be found, and life seems to be going impossibly wrong. It's actually been one of those kind of weeks. Come to think of it, 2012, so far, has been full of unexpected dire news. From unwanted career changes, to personal health concerns, to anxiety-inducing apartment trouble.  Then, to top it all off, our financial rug was suddenly pulled out from under us with no warning. It's days like this when I question my past decisions, and worry. Why didn't we save more? Did we really need to go on vacation a couple of months ago? {answer: absolutely. It was so very important that Biet meet her extended family} Are we in the right careers? Are we in the right apartment? Did we choose the right neighborhood? Why do bad things always seem to happen in threes?  Why can't our family just get a break?
I have been worrying myself sick all day.  Days like this are no fun. And then I look over and see baby girl, sitting on the couch and absolutely fascinated with a metal measuring cup, laughing and singing and simply happy to be alive. I want to work as hard as I possibly can to give her all that she needs, to keep her world magical and pure and full of love. I want to teach her to see the world with wonder, not fear. And I realize that she has some things to teach me too. I know that if she could speak, she would tell me "Mama, don't worry. It will all be ok. Now lets go have some oatmeal." But for now she says it with her eyes. So we went to the table and had some oatmeal together.
And I told her how thankful I am for her company. I am so grateful that she is such a healthy little girl. We may be stressed out at the moment about all sorts of grown-up mumbo jumbo, but we've never had to worry for a second about Biet's health and wellbeing. And that is huge.  Its what really matters.

Maybe our lives are all up in the air for a reason. Maybe all of this stress is pushing us, in a roundabout way, towards good change. A more structured life? More creative careers? A closer family (if that's even possible)? I am trying to take a cue from baby girl. I am trying to remember and appreciate all that is good and balanced in our lives. I am reminding myself of the enormous amount of love within our home. We are a family of tough cookies.  We will work night and day to get through these times. We will survive. And one day, we will sit together at the table and laugh about the hard times past, over oatmeal.

These Days..

Lately, we've been enjoying the chilly days in the city before the winter snow arrives, spotting some pretty awesome street style on our subway commute, dropping by to visit Papá at work at the theatre (where his current show was recently written up in the New York Times and he was mentioned by name!), and celebrating the arrival of baby girl's first teeth (her bottom two came in together all at once!). Goodbye, toothless grin, hello teething. Her favorite things to chew on so far (aside from her Mamá while nursing- but that's another story) are whole carrots and celery stalks. Oh, and Biet's tiny head is finally big enough to fit into the winter wolf hat that I bought her months ago! These days, our life looks a lot like this:

Little Drummer

Here's baby girl playing her wooden drum for the first time. Happy weekend everyone!

A Taste of Home

The other day, circumstances befell us which resulted in us having a car {!} overnight, to do with what we wished. So we braced ourselves for the hysterical screaming ball of anger that is our daughter when she's forced into a carseat, and we hit the road. I absolutely LOVE driving in the city. I love getting lost and discovering new neighborhoods and zooming over bridges against the NYC skyline. I am proud of the fact that I am good at driving through the lawless, pedestrian-overrun, madness of the city streets (no really, I am exceptionally good at it- ask anyone!). I like to turn up the music and pretend that I'm a taxi driver. I'm pretty sure that I would be the best taxi driver ever. I would wear driving gloves and maybe a hat and make friends with all of the characters who hopped in my cab. If Biet ever overcomes her carseat-phobia, she could ride shotgun..

Anyways... we had a car for the whole night and had to decide where to go. First stop, Ikea. As much as I love antiques and one-of-a-kind furnishings, there are some things that Ikea is just great for. Like shelves. We somehow maneuvered a stroller + enormous pieces of furniture through the store, into the car, and up 5 flights of stairs (that's right, the elevator in our building decided to break down that night). Exhausted and starving, we then made the decision to use our new wheels for an old favorite. One of our favorite little Ukrainian places in our old neighborhood, Veselka.

Veselka was one of the first places that I ever ate at when I moved to the city, where you could find me and my best friend Summer nearly every night at four in the morning throughout my early twenties, and my favorite delivery place during my wintertime pregnancy. Gaby loves their chicken soup (and the man knows a thing or two about chicken soup, let me tell you), and I am kind of obsessed with both their vegetable soup and cheese blintzes. They are heavenly. Before moving to Brooklyn, we sort of took it for granted that Veselka was so very very close to us (funny how that always seems to happen and you don't know what you had until its gone). Well, now we had a car, so if Veselka wouldn't come to us, we would go to Veselka. We ordered our favorites {to go} and excitedly headed back home to enjoy them.

Back across 9th street, down the Bowery, through Chinatown, and over the Manhattan Bridge. Just on the other side, though, we decided to make just one more stop. We had driven by the Brooklyn classic, Junior's, so many times, with it's old fashioned bulb lights and 1950's facade. We had been told time and again of their exquisite cheesecakes. So we stopped to pick one up (thankfully, they make medium versions- perfect size for a couple!). We figured that as we enjoy our old favorites, we should also be working on cultivating new favorites in our new borough. Soup and cheesecake, what a treat! Junior's definitely made the cut; It was awesome. {Note: having an entire cheesecake at my disposal is neither safe nor healthy nor fair to anyone else in the house hoping to enjoy a piece}. I can't wait until our next late night snack run!

A Restful Night

Biet has yet to "sleep through the night," and I'm ok with that. She wakes every few hours, cries out for the warmth and satisfaction of a midnight snack, and then falls back into slumber. I plan to let her wake as much as her little body needs until she's able to sleep for a good stretch, and I try not to complain about it. I figure that a new, slightly less comfortable, sleep schedule sort of comes with the territory of parenthood. Being her Mother, and the only one in the house capable of nursing her, I am always the one to run to her (or roll over in the bed towards her) when she cries, and help her get back to sleep.  I was certain that this was the only way to soothe her. Until Gaby swooped in with his amazing Papa skills.

I was up working the other night after Gaby and baby girl had gone to bed (I often use the end-of-the-night hours to squeeze in a bit of "me time") when, right on schedule, a sleepy high-pitched wail began to ring out from the bedroom. She was hungry, or so I thought. I quickly put away the laptop and headed towards the bedroom door. But before I could open it, I heard a deep sleepy Papa voice speaking in spanish. Then a spanish lullaby, and then... silence. Impossible! I couldn't believe that, for the first time, baby girl had gotten back to sleep with neither nursing nor rocking. I peeked in, and this is what I found:

Two sleeping beauties, snuggling together like a puzzle. Gaby had gotten her back to sleep like a pro. Looks like my nights may soon become a bit more restful. I had to sneak back in with a camera. It took all I had to refrain from waking them, squeezing them tight, and telling them how much I loved them both. I really love these two to pieces. 

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!

A Tradition

 We didn't have a Christmas tree this year. We didn't do the whole Christmas morning present extravaganza. We didn't light a shamash for the Channukiah. We didn't even hang the stockings. No, this year, our holidays were, in a word, mellow. Gaby and I come from very different backgrounds and different religious upbringings, each with their own traditions. We consider ourselves a very spiritual family, although we no longer practice any specific faith. We want Biet to know the deep joy of the holiday season, to understand her rich and diverse heritage, and to experience all of the warmth and magic of this time of year. So we sat down with each other for a long discussion, and decided that from now on, when the holidays rolled around, our little family would focus on two things: the act of giving, and tradition.

The only dilemma is that, for a multitude of reasons, many of our family traditions have become faded and lost over time.  We don't have any old family recipes to bake, songs to sing, places to go, or people to see. We could have gone the traditional route, like we had enjoyed in past years - tree, lights, hot chocolate, shopping, mountains of gifts, Santa, cookies, stockings, candy canes, and eggnog - but, for some reason, now with Biet, that just didn't feel personal enough.  What we make of our holidays will become Biet's memories, her childhood, and her traditions. So we decided not to let mass media, or pop culture, or holiday sales determine that part of her history. We decided to choose each tradition carefully, and with purpose. And we started with one: volunteering.

After our lazy Sunday Christmas morning, we all dressed up, grabbed the giant plate of cookies I had baked the night before, and hopped on the train to midtown to meet an extraordinary group of people. These people also forgoed the tree and the stockings and the gifts, though not by choice. They each awoke on Christmas morning and made their way to the second story of a little building on 46th street to enjoy good company and a holiday meal; because they had no feast at home in the oven, and no family there to share it with.  Gaby mingled and greeted everyone, holding his daughter, in her Sunday best, proudly (oh my did she bring a smile to everyone's face!), while I did dishes in the kitchen and helped prepare the food. A single tree stood in the center of the room, twinkling with white lights, and surrounded with donated gifts. We stayed as long as baby girl could manage before her nap, gave what we could, and made a few friends in the process.  This was the first time I had volunteered, and it was a blast. It was such a meaningful way to spend Christmas day, and reminded us of what the holidays are truly about: coming together, community, and giving.  I feel that this brand new tradition is a priceless gift to Biet.

After saying our goodbyes, we strolled around midtown, took in the sights (its funny but when you live in New York City, you sometimes forget to enjoy all of the majestic attractions the city has to offer), and stopped by the iconic Rockafeller Center tree. We snapped a few pictures so that Biet will see that her very first Christmas tree was the best and biggest in the world! Then it was back home to put a roast in the oven and cherish and be grateful for all that we have.  I feel very proud of our first family Christmas. I know that each year forward there will be more and more bells and whistles {advent calendars! gingerbread houses! Channukah celebrations! tamales (an almost-forgotten tradition of my late grandmother - more on that next year)! home-made gifts and ornaments!}, and I look forward to experiencing them as Biet grows. But this year, it was simple and quiet and magical.