My 1 Year Old Daughter is a College Freshman

Life has a way of coming "full circle," in both the short and long term.  Each day we crawl out of bed in the morning, groggy and wishing for sleep, and each night we crawl into bed, groggy and wishing for sleep.  The human lifespan is similarly book-ended.  For years innumerable humans have referred to old age as a "second childhood."  It's a time-worn analogy and one, I have to say, that still holds true today.  Like many on the opposite end of her age bracket, Mimi gets around with a walker, prefers food in mashed or liquid form, has a terrible memory, and suffers from massive incontinence.  But, despite the accuracy, I think there's now a better comparison for the average one year old. 

My 13 month old daughter, save for the height, is virtually indistinguishable from a typical privileged, spoiled, impetuous freshman attending a second rate liberal arts college.  Yes, it's more specific than the original analogy of "old person," but let me explain. 

First off, the living situation.  Mimi is still sharing a room with us which makes for three people fighting for space in a small bedroom.  It's basically no better than a freshman dorm.  And her sleep schedule is similar as well.  She has no regular bedtime, takes naps whenever she wants, and has no concern for her roommates.  In fact, if she wakes up, she'll bug them and bug them and bug them until at least one of them wakes up, goes out into the living room, and plays with her. 

Speaking of the common areas, behavior is pretty similar there as well.  Mimi spends the vast majority of her time just sitting around, generally making a mess of the living room, kitchen, or bathroom, and never offers to help clean up.  Even if her roommates' parents are coming for a visit, Mimi won't lift a finger. 

Mimi also has a keen interested in high-end stereo equipment.  Unfortunately, like most college freshmen, she doesn't really know how to use it.  Below you'll Mimi cuddling with the sub-woofer and attacking the vintage tube amplifier her father bought years ago under the foolish premise that his own progeny would treat it respectfully.   She has just one question: how loud can I crank it?

The typical one-year old's approach to food isn't that far off from a college freshman either.  Mimi tries a new dish or ingredient several times a week, constantly challenging her palette and widening her gastronomic horizon.  But, at the end of the day, all she really wants are stale Cheerios and milk.  Is this really all that different from the a college kid who, on a weekly basis, braves foods never served at home but, late at night, consistently seeks out Taco Bell or, if funds are tight, stale Cheerios and milk. 

Keep in mind that it is not the typical college student that one-year olds are most like.  Many such students are industrious, hard working, selfless, considerate, etc. - things that one-year olds are decidedly not.  Mimi is the quintessential impetuous and spoiled college youth.  Consider the following:  She sits around all day; she doesn't make her own food; she doesn't pay for room and board, clothing, trips, etc.; she immediately comes crying to mommy and daddy if anything goes wrong; and she thinks the world revolves around her.

Also, like the privileged, Mimi somehow finds a way of always getting what she wants.  And not through hard work or sacrifice.  She uses something I like to call cute-guile.  She wasn't born with it, but she seems to be mastering it quite quickly.   Below you'll see Mimi drinking some juice.  Cute, right?  But take a close look at the picture below that.  Notice how she's tilting her head to one side?  That's the first step.  She just started doing it a few weeks ago and, knowing the reaction it gets, she's no doing it all the time.  Sticking her tongue out is, I believe, just for the time being.  She's trying to lull me into a false sense of comfort that she's just being cute-silly and not actually employing cute-guile. 

Hopefully, as the years roll by, Mimi will be one of those little girls who grows up not to rely on cute-guile to get what she wants, but on diligence and her own wits.  I've a feeling that the analogy I've been using throughout this post will fall to the wayside and I'll happily have to apply a new one: ivy league freshman.  Well, a father can dream. 

Steve

How Can a Man Sit Through the Bachelorette? - 12 Ounces of Pure Mexican Coke

It's 9pm.  Do you know where your kids are?

Yes, yes I do.  Thanks for asking and assuming I'm a crappy, negligent parent.    She's in the bedroom - not screaming, not crying, not whining, not gurgling - just sleeping.  Sumie and I had heard stories of babies going to sleep each night at 7:30pm and then waking up at 8:00 each day.  That's all we think such statements are now: stories.  If Mimi goes to sleep before 9:30 we're thankful.  If she wakes up after 7am, we're ecstatic.  Usually, however, we're just sleepy when morning comes around. 

With Mimi in bed at a reasonable hour tonight we have the option of watching a little network TV and not slavishly relying on Netflix Streaming (which is a godsend).  It's Monday night, though, and so we have a problem:  The Bachelorette is on.

When it comes to TV and movies I think I'm fairly open for a guy.  I've been won over to Glee (I have a soft spot for Broadway tunes) and can make it through the vast majority of romantic comedies if I don't have an out (I also have a soft spot for Hugh Grant.  Infer what you must, but I stand by it.)  But, I absolutely draw the line with two genres of television my wife tends to like: entertainment news and reality tv. 

And it's not like I don't let her watch such shows.  I do.  I just tend to make them impossible to enjoy because I'm constantly yelling at the television screen.  Most psychiatrists would probably believe I'm bordering on psychotic behavior.  I would have to agree.  I can't control it.  This behavior often results in a "discussion" of intrinsic values in the programs Sumie and I watch, which invariably leads to me arguing that "Top Gear" is a far better show on all fronts - writing, direction, culture, etc. - because the hosts drive cool cars and occasionally make references to Monty Python or the war.  Yes, I know it's a weak argument. 

Shows Sumie likes and I can't abide have always been a point of contention in our home, but with Mimi it has gotten more intense.  There's only so much time the two of us have together.  Well, maybe that's not the right way to look at it.  There's only so much free time we have without Mimi.  How that's spent becomes a very personal matter.  We're both looking for what is going to give us the best downtime; the best means of clearing our heads and distancing ourselves from the stresses of the day.  For Sumie, on a Monday night, that's The Bacherlorette.  For me, let's just say it's virtually anything else. 

I have to find a way to get through this, though, for Sumie's sake.  I think I've found it.  I've been reading some Bret Easton Ellis recently and the solution suddenly came to me while I was walking Mimi home from daycare.  What I needed to make it through the night was a hefty serving of pure, unadulterated, Mexican Coke.

Luckily for me there's a bodega one block up from my house that always keeps some on hand.  It's expensive - $2.00 a bottle - but good God, what a difference.  The stuff is like liquid crack.

I genuinely don't understand why we had to deviate from the old-fashioned soft drinks we used to have when I was a young kid.  They really are much better.  Glass bottles, real sugar - it's nostalgically tasty!  Beyond that, I've found that when I purchase the original stuff, the Coke imported from Mexico in 12 inch glass bottles, I enjoy it far more and drink far less.  At most I may have 2 bottles in one day.  This is partially because of the cost, but also because it's just harder to drink quickly from a bottle.  It forces me to savor it.  I honestly believe that if we were to switch back to glass bottles (no 2 liter bottles or massive 24 packs) and tastier, cane-based soda, we'd take in a lot less soda as a nation and probably be a bit healthier for it. 

And, far more men would readily allow their wives to indulge in the occasional show they can't stand.  That proper, pure cane taste just washes away the pain.  Oh, and writing an entire blog entry while the show is on doesn't hurt either.   

Steve

Even Imperial Stormtroopers Need to Eat!

"Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."  Or so they say.  More often than not, though, imitation is simply aggravating.  When was the last time you actually enjoyed someone repeating everything you say, trying to act like a celebrity, or singing a song at karaoke obscenely beyond his or her vocal range?  (To be fair, I'm definitely guilty of this last one.  Sorry to all of you who have had to sit through my renditions of Ah-ha's "Take On Me.")  In short, adults who tend to imitate tend to annoy.

But it's an entirely different story when it comes to children, particularly infants and preschoolers.  For them, imitation is not flattery, it is perhaps their most effective learning strategy for making sense of and navigating this strange world we live in.  Through imitation children begin to learn how to use, and eventually gain, their own voices.  A child's innate ability and desire to imitate does, however, put a great deal of responsibility on parents.  Infants and preschoolers are veritable swiffer sweepers when it comes to parental behavior: they'll pick up anything.  The challenge lies in that, unlike a swiffer sweeper, we can't simply toss them out if they pick up too much crap.

Mimi's been copying us more and more each week.  Her verbal repetition, in terms of both accuracy and frequency, has increased substantially over the past week.  Earlier today I was deliberately annoying my wife (how quickly we, as parents, forget that our actions are being watched).  Sumie jokingly yelled at me to "Stop it!" and Mimi, who had been observing us from a few feet away, immediately piped up with "Stahput!  Stahput!"  Though she didn't know it, she's said her first sentence!

Mimi's also taken to play acting actions we've modeled for her.  One of these is the routine of cuddling a stuffed animal in the crook of her neck and then giving it a kiss on the nose.  Another is play eating.  She's started taking a few bites on her own with a spoon each time we feed her.  This practice has been limited so far - there's only so much yogurt that the ceiling can take - but Mimi has taken to it and applied it to her play.  She'll often pick up a cup and spoon, particularly when Mama and Papa are having soup or cereal, and play eat.  Today, however, she extended this to an inanimate object.  As she rightfully concluded, even imperial stormtroopers need a snack from time to time!

Mimi is also quick to prefer whatever her parents are enjoying.  I sometimes think that if I sat on the floor and played with plastic bottles, balls, and stuffed animals more often, Mimi would be less interested in attacking my computer, phone, Kindle, sandwich, shoes, etc.  Even Mimi's taste in food seems to gravitate toward our own.  We went for a picnic today and she scavenged from our sandwiches.  She also expressed some interest in our potato chips.  This wasn't abnormal, but the chips we had today were, as far as I know, not a typical kid favorite: salt and vinegar.  No matter.  She attacked them with abandon.  Here's Mimi sharing a chip with Sumie.  I think I know where Mimi picked up her potato chip habit.

Of course, not everything a toddler does is a result of imitation.  Over the past few weeks Mimi has developed a new skill I sincerely hope she didn't pick up from me or Sumie. 

She hasn't had much practice, but she can already go far deeper than either her mother or father.  She's almost up to the second knuckle!  I guess we're all born with a few "gifts." 

Shortly after her exploration, however, I think Mimi felt some regret.  Do certain innate talents come paired with an unshakeable sense of shame?

It's OK, Mimi.  Though we never admit it, we all do it from time to time! 

Steve

The New Decorum: Plants before People?

Friday was one of those mild New York summer days marred by threatening thunderstorms, high winds, and a humidity percentile beyond the confines of modern mathematics.  Not normally a good day for venturing out - there's no way to dress comfortably for such weather - but Mimi was out of milk so we had no choice.  We had to make a shopping run.

Despite the weather Mimi did well and we were nearly done with our uneventful outing when we turned the corner onto 77th and things got a bit interesting.  The sidewalk was lined with trees, many of them newer ones with their branches hanging low and narrowing the path.  As Mimi and I walked down we approached a tree surrounded by three little girls who couldn't have been more than five or six years old.  One girl, the straggler who had been walking behind her friends, had reached up, pulled off some leaves, and then ambushed her friends from behind.  The two victims immediately turned around, ran over to their assailant, grabbed more leaves, and started a leaf fight.  This was when Mimi and I arrived at the tree. 

The kids were just playing, and I didn't really mind, but our path was completely blocked.  Beyond this, the girls were dangerously close to hitting Mimi with the branches of the tree as they frantically scrambled for more leaves to throw at each other.  I looked ahead for the mother who, 20 yards ahead, had finally bothered to turn around to find out what was going on. 

"Girls!  Get over here!"  she yelled, and they did.  She then continued.  "We've talked about this before.  You know you're not supposed to behave like that.  Now go back and apologize."  The girls, ashamedly, turned from their mother and walked back towards us.  The oldest looked up and said, "I'm sorry..." and just as I was about to say it was OK, she finished her sentence, "...tree."  I thought this a bit funny and cute until I looked up and saw that the mother, satisfied that the wrong had now been righted, turned and moved on toward the park. 

Now I didn't say anything, but I sure as hell wanted to.  If I had been that child 30 years ago my parents would have made me apologize to the people, not the plants!  We seem to be entering a society that judges behavior based on how we respond to things - plants, animals, the environment, - rather than people.  In some ways I can't help but feel that certain commodities, luxuries, and ideas have been anthropomorphised so extensively that actual people come second.   

There is some hope, though, that ours is still a society that puts people first.  Last night we heard word that the New York State Legislature passed the Marriage Equality bill.  Regardless of how one feels about this controversial topic, I think it can still be seen a clear instance that we, as a society, still have the ability to stretch beyond our personal beliefs and focus on that most important aspect we share: our humanity. 

So, to close, I'd like to give a little two-picture homage to this great city and state.  These were taken from the top of the Empire State Building, around midnight, last week.  After all these years, the lights of New York can still sometimes burn quite bright. 

Steve

When a Word is Worth a Thousand Pictures

Sumie and I have been very cautious when it comes to acknowledging a new word in Mimi's vocabulary.  We wait until she can both hear and say a specific word and make the proper associations.  For instance, with "wan-wan" (doggie), Mimi is able to pick out her stuffed dog or point to dogs on the street when we say it and she blurts it out consistently in "dog-related" situations.   So, because of these stringent guidelines, it is with great pleasure (and slight immodesty) that I share Mimi's second word: Papa.

Watching Mimi's linguistic development over the past several weeks, finally being able to study her throughout an entire day, has been fascinating.  She's now attempting to copy almost everything her mother and I say.  Her recitations take some very odd forms.  In most cases it's simply babbling, with some similar consonants or vowels thrown in.  Occasionally she'll get pretty close.  She still loves to pull off my glasses and when she does, she'll sometimes say, "garala."  In other instances she'll mouth the word she wants to say, with what looks like fair accuracy, but forget to make sound.  It reminds me just how complicated even the basic act of speaking can be and how quickly we take that gift for granted. 

Each word, both in terms of recognition and use, is so hardly won.  Substantial input, effort, and analysis is needed for just one word to stick.  Here's an example: Mimi is finally starting to recognize the phrase "Do you want to eat?" by raising her hand in the affirmative.  We've been doing this with every meal for months, but only now has it sunk in (and not necessarily every time). 

Note the smirk of extreme satisfaction on Mimi's face having gotten that linguistic phrase right!  I can't help but feel with Mimi's developing language skills she sometimes gets frustrated simply because she wants to convey something, but literally does not have the words to do so.  She's beginning to understand what words are for and, like a man with writer's block, she's going to get flustered when they don't come.  My job, I believe, is to share as many words and their meanings with her as I can.  As such, I'm constantly talking with Mimi, often about concepts she simply wouldn't be interested in.  This may make me sound a bit crazy at times - I highly doubt most babies are interested in the socio-political mire of the 1870s New York - but I think it's helping her to learn and helping me to stay sane.  Too much baby talk and I'd go nuts! 

Along with her language development Mimi is becoming more inquisitive.  She's now taken up the habit of looking under things.  She's not looking for anything in particular; she's just checking to see "what's under there."  Unfortunately, not all places she likes to check are "socially appropriate."  Most, though, are just fine.  Here's a pic of Mimi checking out Sumie's pockets yesterday when we met her for lunch.  In some ways she's just copying her mommy. 

Naturally, this didn't last too long.  Sumie soon got a page.  Notice Mimi's expression.  At this point I think she is copying my reaction to Sumie's pages. 

Her walking skills have also improved tremendously, particularly since I've been home with her.  The other day I was washing bottles in the kitchen and put the dishwasher door down.  This was an excellent platform for Mimi to test out her cruising skills.  Soon, while standing, she had grabbed a spoon and was dipping it into the (empty) soap tray and then bringing it up to her mouth.  She was play eating!  How cool!  She got so involved in this that she actually forgot to hold onto the dishwasher and stood independently for a few seconds.  Two firsts for Mimi and all I had to do was leave the dishwasher open and take care of some chores.  Nice.  Exhausted from these accomplishments, Mimi then kicked back with a refreshing and invigorating Red Bull.

Lastly, she's taken to walking around the apartment with her baby walker.  It took several weeks for Mimi to build up the confidence to use this well, but over the last few days, now that she knows she can take a tumble and be OK, she's improved tremendously.  Yesterday she was able to walk across the entire apartment and back.  She even learned how to change direction (up to 90 degrees so far) when she gets stuck.  Well done!

Looking forward to what the next month will hold developmentally for Mimi.  It'll be our last in NYC.  I doubt it will happen, but I'd love for her to take her first steps as a New Yorker.  We'll see. 

Steve
P.S.  No, I didn't actually give my baby Red Bull.  She has enough energy as it is (so much so that I sometimes need to drink Red Bull)!

NYC Anomaly: Man alone with baby on Upper East Side

911 Emergency Response Transcript
Monday, June 21st: 11:30am


Operator:  911 emergency response.  What is your emergency?

Caller:  I'd like to report a potential child abduction.  

Operator:  Alright Ma'am.  Did you witness the crime firsthand?  Is the abductor still nearby?

Caller:  Yes, he's close.  I didn't see the abduction itself, but I can't think of any other explanation for what I'm seeing.  Can you please send the police!


Operator:  Ma'am, I'll probably be able to send a car, but first I need to get more information.  Can you briefly explain the situation to me and, if possible, keep the suspect in sight?  


Caller:  Of course.  I'm in Carl Schurz Park on the Upper East Side.  I was taking my two year old to the playground.  Are you familiar with it?  


Operator:  Yes, it's where Gracie Mansion is.  Go ahead.


Caller:  Well, I was walking by one of the grassy areas by the river, the one just behind the mansion and I saw this guy having a picnic...  just him and a baby.  It was a little before 11:30am.  He was definitely alone and I'm almost certain he wasn't meeting anyone.  He just seemed to be, I don't know, out...  alone... before noon... with a baby.  Naturally, my first inclination was to call 911.  


Operator:  Ma'am, you did the right thing.  Was there anything else that made you suspicious?


Caller:  Yes, his baby was Asian and really adorable.  It didn't make sense.  So...  and I know this is dangerous and I never should've done it...  I confronted him.  

Operator:  My God.  What happened?

Caller:  Well, I walked up and told him that his baby was cute.  He thanked me and then I asked him where the mother was.  Get this... he said that the mother was at work...  at the hospital!  He said she was a doctor and he was, quote, "looking after the baby" while she was at work.  

Operator:  What???!!!

Caller:  I know!  And he even claimed to live in Manhattan!  But that's not the end of it.  Here's the clincher.  I asked him to show me a picture of the mother.  I had to be sure.  And there's no way that this guy - this overweight, apparently unemployed, and balding man - is with this woman.  Is there anyway I can give you the proof?  I took a picture of the guy with my phone.  If I send it to you will you send a car?

Operator:  Yes, yes of course.  Send it to "suspiciousashell@thepolice.gov." I'll be able to take a look and, if we need to, upload it to the responding officers.  

Caller:  OK, here it goes. 

Operator:  It's coming through now.  Oh...my...God.  It's worse than I thought.  And what he's reading, it's a Kindle.  He doesn't even have an iPad.  


Caller:  Yes!  I know!  I forgot to tell you that!  Now, will you send someone?  Please!  


Operator:  Ma'am, I could send a car, but there's a SWAT team practicing maneuvers up at 96th and 1st.  I'm going to call them in.  Please, until they get there, keep your distance.  I'll stay with you on the line and we'll get this beautiful girl back to her rightful parents.  


Caller:  Thank you.  Thank you, but please, please hurry!  With a gut his size he's bound to get up and start searching for food soon!

It's been several weeks now that I've been a stay-at-home dad and, I have to say, I have genuinely enjoyed it.  However, I still do feel a bit out of place when walking around the Upper East Side (or almost anywhere in Manhattan for that matter) with Mimi during the day.  There just aren't a lot of us dads on the street.

Here's the basic breakdown of adult-toddler groupings you pass on any given weekday afternoon on the Upper East Side.

• 75%:  Nannies with babies, toddlers, or preschoolers
• 24%:  Stay-at-home moms with their kids
• 1%:  Steve, Mimi, and one additional suspicious looking guy with his two kids

The one thing I have going for me is that at least I'm a different ethnicity than my daughter.  95% of nannies seem to be of a different ethnic origin than their charges.  The most common pairing is African American or Hispanic nanny with a white child.  The only homogeneous pairings seem to happen when the child is non-white.  It's gotten me to think about what Sumie and I would do if we were to hire a nanny for Mimi in the next year or two.   I would prefer to have a Japanese nanny so that Mimi could focus primarily on Japanese at home, but there would be some advantages to having her pick up a third language (most likely Spanish).  My primary requirement, though, would be to hire someone with strong language skills who could impart her own culture and language (outside of my own) to broaden Mimi's understanding of the world.  I imagine there'll be more on this topic in the years to come. 

Oh, by the way, I was able to leave the park before the police came.  Thank God for small favors!

Pastrami: Sometimes it's the Perfect Dessert

Sunday, June 19th, 2011: ~8:30pm

This weekend Sumie, Mimi, and I played host to a Mr. John Hein: friend of Steve's since elementary school, professional tennis educator, pinball aficionado, and all-around great guy.  It was to be a quick trip out, only for the weekend, so John's flight out from Washington state was due to arrive in Newark at 1:00am Friday night.

As it turned out, though, someone at United Airlines decided that managing one of the world's largest travel conglomerates is far too easy with modern computers, and thus initiated a nation-wide shutdown that lasted over 5 hours.  Chicago, United's Hub, was apparently the place not to be Friday night.  Luckily John was coming in from a connection in Denver and his flight was pushed back to a very respectable 3:15am.

Habitually, and to my wife frustratingly, I am anal about getting to the airport well ahead of time.  I walked into the terminal at 3:00am only to find that the arrival had been pushed back to 3:45.  I was tired and rather annoyed with United at this point.  We had missed out on an evening out.  A brief evening, assuredly, but still important when one only had about 48 hours total.  What or who could salvage the evening?  As I watched groggy travelers exit security, I caught a familiar refrain coming over the airport sound system.  It was the theme from Shaft.  John came out just as the song was finishing, which was a perfect way to start the visit and well worth the delay (at least in my misguided mind.).

We both slept in on Saturday morning (thank you, Mimi, for not waking before 8:00am!) and then planned our excursion for the day.  It was a chance for John to experience non-tourist NYC and for me to cross off a few items on my "leaving NYC bucket list."  We had brunch with Mimi and Sumie at "The Barking Dog," a little cafe near our apartment, then headed out.

First on our list was to get a little pinball in.  Strangely, this is a rather difficult proposition in Manhattan.  The space the machines take up and the cost of their upkeep means that there are very few bars that set aside room for a pinball machine these days.  Additionally, NYC has never really been a pinball town given that pinball was actually outlawed in the city until 1976 (The year of my birth.  A coincidence?).  When outlawed in the early 1940s, Mayor Fiorello La Guardia said that the machines robbed the "pockets of schoolchildren in the form of nickels and dimes given them as lunch money."  To be fair, I can't really argue with that reasoning other than to say I think it's a fair trade.  


Despite the limited resources and the game's checkered past, we set out and found an excellent billiards room on 11th and 3rd that had three vintage machines in immaculate condition.  We got change for a 5 dollar bill and hit the tables for an hour or so.  

I'm rather embarrassed to say that I am woefully out of practice, and John had his way with me on two of the three tables.  Will this be argument enough for Sumie to allow me to have a pinball in San Francisco?  Somehow I doubt it.  


Pinball played, we headed for lunch.  This meant Zum Schneiders, a famous NYC beer hall with great food and even better beer.  (www.zumschneider.com)  We found an umbrella'd table on the sidewalk and stayed for close to three hours soaking in the city, the passersby, the boiled wurst, and, most of all, the Aventinus, a strong, dark beer that tastes best when served by the liter.  

Zum Schneider's set the stage for an evening, and night, of light drinking and heavy eating.  From Zum Schneider's we checked out a street fair and then walked over to Kenka, a Japanese izakaya (pub) famous for its cheap beer, novel-length menu, and 1960s pseudo dive bar decor (By the way, "Kenka" means "Fight" in Japanese (http://savory-bites.com/2010/06/kenkas/).  Rather fitting for the establishment.).  Another two hours passed, with okonomiyaki (Japanese savory pancake), butakimuchi (pork and kimchi), and tatsuta age (Japanese fried chicken), carrying us through the evening.  We emerged from the basement of Kenka and headed for a couple comic shops.  

But the evening was far from over.  As we sought out Toy Tokyo we came across the usually ridiculously crowded Belgian Fries place.  Sumie and I had passed by this little restaurant, which serves only fries and special sauces for them, for years but had never worked up the courage and patience to brave the line that invariably snaked out the door.  Saturday night, however, John and I were able to walk right in and order the crispy potato goodness.  "Best fries ever," said John.  I agreed.  

Now this should have been enough food for anyone.  But it simply wasn't for us.  Not that night.  I asked John if he liked pastrami.  He said yes.  So we went to Katz's.  (http://katzsdelicatessen.com/)

Famous for its insanely delicious deli, as well as that famous scene from "When Harry met Sally," I've been taking friends to Katz's for years.  It's not because I'm a nice person.  It's because I'll use any excuse I can find to get at that pastrami.  And this pastrami is so good it really was dessert for us that night.  Not sweet, but the perfect end to a rather gluttonous day.   

The next morning, John and I both agreed that we didn't need to eat.  We'd had enough for the day, if not the following week.  This feeling didn't last that long, however.  By about 10:00am, we both broke down and ate half a breakfast sandwich.  Amazingly, we felt much better after eating.  It was a bit of gastronomic "hair of the dog," an edible eye-opener, and it oddly did the trick.  I didn't know food worked that way.  

My father's day was quiet, with John, Sumie, Mimi and I visiting Sumie's parents in Scarsdale.  Mimi was a darling, making my 2nd official, but first "real," Father's day with her a special one.  Below one can see that she's already getting interested in music and, perhaps more importantly, audio equipment!

 The afternoon closed back in Manhattan with some quiet time on the balcony.  Mimi prefers to spend this time upside down these days.  Can't say why, but it does induce quite a bit of giggling in Mimi.  Me, it just makes me queasy.  

 A very happy Father's Day to all the dads out there, both present and past.  I'm very thankful for the ones in my life now and the one I had (miss you, Dad!)
-Steve 

One Man's Garbage...

Friday, June 17th:  ~10:00am

Having a baby is not cheap.  Diapers, formula, clothing, toys, furniture: everything for a baby is expensive, quickly depleted, or rendered obsolete in a brief few months.  Combine this with one of the world's most expensive locales, and parenthood in NYC becomes a very expensive proposition, so any break that comes along is most welcome. 

In a city where money, for many, is no object, except to when it comes to affording a spacious apartment, trash days can be a bonanza in New York. It's amazing what some people will throw out as a result of unlimited funds and significantly limited space.  Street scavenging, dumpster diving, and "aggressive recycling" have long been mainstays of the New York social ecosystem.  In the 1800s, when the refuse of the rich was stored on garbage barges on the East River, scores of the poor would scavenge these floating dumps for anything of value - serviceable but outdated items, scrap metal, cloth, etc. - to use for their own or to sell to the numerous scrap dealers throughout the city.  There are few who crawl through the trash today (it's not nearly as accessible), but the rich still throw out items of value, and the poor, myself included, still make the most of it. 

Our apartment on the Upper West Side was in a 100 year old brownstone that had been converted into multiple units.  Some of these were rent stabilized, like ours, which made the building a haven for younger couples and older individuals on a fixed income.   The building was just 50 yards off Riverside Drive and Park, and thus only a few steps from the grand, pre-war apartments that sprung up along the Hudson River in the early 1900s.  This absurdly close proximity to the relatively well-off made for some interesting finds on bulk garbage collection day. 

In addition to regular garbage days, when buildings put out their refuse and recycling, there are occasional bulk garbage days for the pick up and removal of couches, beds, refrigerators, electronics, etc.  All of this is simply left on the street in the evening to be picked up the following day.  One night, while walking home from my parking spot (this time only two blocks from my apartment) I spotted an interesting mound of plastic bags, tables, and couches just beyond my building.  As always when presented with such a sight, I went to investigate.  99 times out of 100 there's nothing worthwhile, but this time, I struck audiophile gold. 

Sitting on an off-color leather settee was an amazing, if slightly ratty for their grills, pair of KEF Monitor speakers.  These little beauties retailed of over $1,500 a pair in the early 90s and they still sound amazing today.  That little circle in the middle is the tweeter, actually set within mid-range driver to help with phase and sound-stage.  A good scrub and some new felt pads were the only requirements to make these street finds an integral part of my surround-sound system.  My only regret was that the original owner hadn't decided to throw out the excellent amplifier that must have been paired with them at one point.  The speakers were an excellent find, but the best was still to come.

Fast forward 4 years.  It had been a hellish parking night.  I'd been circling for over an hour, I'd narrowly missed 4 different spaces (two of them taken by non New Yorkers), and I had to pee.  I eventually found a spot 4 blocks from home.  Mildly irritated, I began my walk.  A few blocks in, I came across another pile of garbage.  Smaller this time, but there was an interesting shape on top.  A stroller shape, to be exact.  I passed it by at first - we already had a nice stroller - but went back after half a block.  I couldn't help myself.  I unfolded it and, to my surprise, it was a beautiful Maclaren Techno stroller.  It was an older model, but in fantastic condition.  Even the color Sumie and I wanted. 

I took it home, disassembled, scrubbed, and reassembled everything, and was presented with a virtually brand-new stroller.  We've been using it ever since.  Our other stroller, a city mini, is fantastic for longer walks, but difficult in the narrow aisles of most Manhattan stores and markets.  The Maclaren is perfect for errands and has become our "go-to" stroller.  By far, it's been our most beneficial scavenge.  I wonder what the streets of SF will have to share. 

In other news, Mimi has taken a shine to the Beatles.  She loves music and already has better rhythm than her father.  I'll be sure to post about our music strategy in the future, but for the time being, here's Mimi taking a quick break from "A Hard Day's Night." 

-Steve

9 Years in the Making

Wednesday, June 15th: ~12:30pm

Tuesday night marked the end of a significant chapter in Sumie's life.  No, she's still with me (amazingly).  Last night was Sumie's graduation from the nephrology fellowship program at Cornell.  But this wasn't just a recognition of two years' hard training.  It was the culmination of Sumie's medical education as well as our life in Manhattan. 

Sumie's parents came by around 5:30pm, along with their sheltie, Harry, to watch Mimi.  With our little one in good hands, we dressed up, flagged down a taxi, and headed over to the Cosmopolitan Club for Sumie's graduation dinner. 

The setting, in the library of the club, was a perfect setting for the both intimate and academic affair.  There were four nephrology graduates, Sumie, Stanley, David, and John.  They were joined by the first year fellows as well as the nurses, social workers, and nephrology attendings who had worked alongside them throughout the training. 

Each of the attendees shared a few words about the graduating fellows, both as a class and as individuals.  I was already proud of Sumie for having come so far, but what the attendings shared that night about her skill, passion, and heart for medicine, and for patients, made me nearly fit to burst.  One doctor shared that no matter how challenging the situation, no matter how dire the circumstances, Sumie has a way of simply making people feel happier.  She disagreed with the assessment, but I think it's her selflessness and modesty that makes it possible for her to provide that kind of reassurance, that kind of care.  Another attending shared that "Doctors can sometimes cure, will often relieve, but should always console."  This, I think, sums up why Sumie has a fantastic career ahead of her. 

Of course, each of the graduating fellows shared their thanks and best wishes for everyone in the room.  Sumie had hoped to sketch out what she wanted to share in the taxi ride over to the club, but thanks to neither of her pens working, she decided she'd wing it.  She started off strong, but after the first few sentences she began to falter.  It was very unlike her, this former winner of the "All Japan English Speech Competition."  But this was not simply Sumie's graduation from fellowship, but a graduation from an entire phase of her life.   

The two of us had come to New York City nine years ago, her with a place at the Columbia College of Physicians and Surgeons and a tiny dorm room, me with suitcase, no job, and no place to live.  Over those nine years we grew closer together, were married, moved into our first apartment together, bought our first home together, had our darling Mimi, and succeeded in our professional goals for this stage in our life.  It has been a remarkable near-decade, but one that is, without doubt, coming to a close. 

I am immensely proud of what my dear wife has accomplished and cannot wait to begin this next chapter in our lives not just together, but as a threesome. 

We're also quite proud of Mimi.  She learned how to use a refrigerator magnet today!  Nice work, Mimi.  Not quite as good as finishing up nine years of medical education, but you're well on your way!

 -Steve

A Boy Sells in Brooklyn

Monday, June 13th:  ~1:00pm

On Sunday Mimi, Sumie, and I headed down and over to Brooklyn to attend the "Renegade Craft Fair."  Steve Kemp attending a craft fair?  Amazingly, the man whose most successful experience with a glue gun resulted in 2nd degree burns, the man who would rather lose a toe than enter a Michael's craft shop, took his family to a craft fair.  And in Brooklyn at that!  Well, there are a couple good reasons for this turn of events.

1. One of the boys, Mr. Ryan Berkley, had set up shop for two days at the craft fair to sell his amazing assortment of personally penned prints (www.etsy.com/shop/berkleyillustration).  And when a boy is in NYC, that boy should be met.  Who are the boys?  In short, they're a great group of lads I went to elementary, Jr. High, and High School with in Paradise, California.  They deserve their own post, and will get one come Boys' Christmas this December, but for the time being let it be known that a boy is a great thing and something not to be missed.
2. We had a chance to see Ryan, as well as his wife Lucy, sharing their work with other New Yorkers.  It's kind of cool to see a friend of yours at work.  A very different perspective. 
3. Lastly, we had an excuse to get out to Brooklyn, which we do perhaps every two years or so (rather sad, really, given that it's only 30 minutes away).

On our way to the subway Sumie and I had an epiphany.  We'd spent an entire year with Mimi.  We'd taken her home from the hospital by taxi, to the Upper West Side by bus, up to Westchester by car, bus, and train, and to Colorado and California by 737, but never had we taken her on the subway.  Our trip down to Brooklyn would be Mimi's first ride on a New York City Subway, and perhaps her last for quite a long time.  She did well, but was a bit intimidated by all the noise and people.  The living room holds mysteries enough to keep Mimi occupied for hours.  I can only imagine what impact all the sights, sounds, and smells of the subway had on her.

The craft fair was really quite astounding.  Nearly 300 vendors and the "crafts" were not your average after-school or retirement community fare.  There are some genuinely creative people (Ryan included) making a living by sharing their gifts in art, pottery, textiles, etc.  What a great deal of talent and courage these artists must have to see their passion come to fruition.  It gives me a bit of hope for the future, for both myself and for my children, that people can find success and fulfillment without having to be a cog in a corporate machine.  Very, very cool.

Brooklyn itself was also a great surprise.  I regret not having explored the borough more over the past 9 years.  On our walk over from the subway station we hit upon and amazing basement store simply and aptly titled "Junk."  It was fantastic.  A melange of vintage furniture, clothing, electronics, and random ephemera stacked and scattered around a 3000 square foot basement.  It reminded me of stores I'd come across in Northern California while looking for bargain antiques.  Brooklyn itself felt much more like San Francisco to me than Manhattan ever has.  Perhaps it was a good first step for Sumie and I to take for our upcoming move.

Overall, Mimi did fairly well on the trip, but she did reaffirm why we prefer traveling with her by car only.  She's still a very finicky sleeper - she only sleeps in a moving car or in her crib at home - and longer outings can quickly turn into meltdowns.  The best we can do is try to keep her fed and distracted, but even that can be a bit tricky in unfamiliar surroundings.  Here we are in a supermarket near the craft fair attempting to get Mimi topped up with yogurt.  For the longest time she just wasn't having it.  Finally, though, we won her over.

Even after that long day, Mimi couldn't nap once we got home.  Perhaps she was just a bit too excited from the full day.  Though we'll miss NYC, I'm very excited to get to SF where we can explore the history, the beaches, and the second-hand-shops and still have a comfy ride home perfect for napping (for everyone except the driver, which will invariably be me). 

-Steve

If You Want a Full Night's Sleep, Go to the Living Room!

Saturday, June 11th: ~7:00pm

With Mimi a bit sick, Sumie a bit exhausted, and the weather a bit dreary, it was a Saturday best spent inside.  We think Mimi's having a reaction to her vaccination shots from a week or so back, which has resulted in a fever and two very restless nights.  Mimi's putting up the good fight, though, and doing her best to get through the night.  Quite a change from the reality of a few months back...

On Mimi's first night with us, when we were all still in the hospital, she was only able to sleep in 15 minute bursts.  She was hungry, Sumie wasn't producing milk yet, and I was dead to the world having been up for 30 hours straight.  Supplied with a supplemental feeding system the next morning, Mimi, Mama, and Papa all settled in together the following night and, amazingly, slept through the entire night.  It was the first full night's sleep together as a family and the last to be enjoyed for a long, long time. 

A loving but stubborn little girl, Mimi has been blessed with lungs that challenge the explanatory powers of modern physics.  She likes to use them when she wants something.  And for 10 months, she wanted something every night between midnight and 3:00am. 

As a result, and given the living constraints of a one-bedroom Manhattan apartment, Mimi would co-sleep with us.  Each night we'd go through the same routine - give her the bottle in the cradle, put on the white noise, rock her until she'd nodded off, and tuck her into the crib - hoping that this night would be different; this night would be the one she'd sleep through.  Invariably she'd wake, and then wake us.  Some nights were worse than others.  There were mornings when Sumie and I awoke to find that Mimi was in bed with us, neither of us having any clue of how it happened.  And there were nights when Mimi wanted to "play" from 2 to 4am, despite her parents' pleas.

We expected Mimi to wake up each night for the first few months; it wasn't really an issue.  At 6 months, we figured she was just a little late in getting to sleep through the night.  At 8 months, we were starting to break.  We'd both go to work and hear tales of infants sleeping through the night at 2 months, or be given advice that, when applied, made no difference whatsoever.  We were a little disheartened but, more than that, we were exceedingly fatigued.  My brain simply could not manage information in the same manner.  I was, in no uncertain terms, significantly dumber.  I still find it rather ironic that men and women throughout the world willingly allow their children to inflict upon them a form of torture that has been internationally outlawed. 


Finally, when Mimi was around 10 months old, the penny dropped.  Around 1am, in the midst of Mimi's nightly wails, I decided that there would be no more co-sleeping with Mimi - ever.  Now, this was easier said than done.  We had tried to let Mimi "cry it out" on several occasions, with some degree of success (this is how we got her to sleep in the crib instead of her cradle), but she's too clever and stubborn to succumb to such a basic strategy as that.  Even if she was asleep, Mimi knew if we were in the room.  I don't know how, but she did.  It was rather like a bad horror film.  Sumie and I were the young lovers attempting to escape, but no matter how well we hid, no matter how quiet we kept, we'd be hunted down and torn to bits (well, torn to bits vocally). 


Our solution: sleep in the living room.  We broke out the airbed, brought out the comforter, sheets, and pillows, put Mimi back the crib, and camped out in front of the couch.  Mimi was not pleased with this turn of events, but after about half an hour her cries subsided.  The next night we did the same thing, only this time sleeping in the living room from the very beginning.  Mimi again woke up, but got herself back to sleep in about 15 minutes.  The next night amazingly, mercifully, she slept the entire night through.  We were so proud of our little girl!


Despite the success, we didn't return to the bedroom right away.  We were gun shy.  What if she spotted us?  What if she saw through our little scheme and knew we couldn't sleep in the living room indefinitely (actually, given how tired we were, we perhaps could have).  It took us about a week of camping in the living room, and Mimi sleeping through the night, for us to work up the courage to enter our own bedroom again.  Thankfully, Mimi's become a competent sleeper and now can even suffer through her father's horrific snoring! 


Here's a picture of Mimi and me in the same living room that offered such solace during those dark days.  We're both glad to be sleeping well, at last!


-Steve

Modern Droppings: On the trail of baby scat

Friday, June 10th: ~11:30am

It's not the most pleasant topic, but one that weighs heavily on every new parent: baby poop. 

I remember an old comedy routine, I think it was by Bill Cosby, on this very topic.  In the first week or two, the parents are enamored with the baby's droppings: showing them off, framing them, etc.  Over time, of course, they become slaves to constant diaper changes and oppressive odors.  While I appreciate the routine, my own experience has been a bit different. 

First off, the initial poops are far from cute.  No one had told me about meconium.  Good lord, what awful stuff.  You're a brand new parent, presented with this beautiful, angelic, defenseless little bundle, and the first thing it produces is a substance with the look, consistency, and smell of putrid death paste.  It gets better quite quickly as the meconium passes, but what an initial shock.  Perhaps this is God's way of setting the stage for what it to come. 

Time went on and we entered the "blowout potential" stage.  Naturally, we've had our share - Sumie experienced Mimi's most destructive BM while at the pediatrician's office - but it really hasn't been that bad.  No real horror stories to share.  Actually, we've had the opposite challenge: constipation. 

The first obvious sign of constipation is that the fertilizer factory seems to shut down.  Two days, three days, maybe even six days will go by without a BM.  With each day that goes by the worry notches up a bit, but, at the same time, there's also a sense of relief.  Each day without a BM is a tiny, tiny reminder of what life was like before the child's appearance; before you scrubbed your hands with antibacterial goop every 30 minutes. 

The next sign comes with "straining."  This is where we were most concerned for Mimi.  Early on, Mimi would not poop for several days and then pass whatever she had stored up.  As she got on toward one year old, though, she started to strain when it came time for her BM.  Sometimes it was difficult to tell, though, if she was actually straining or simply being fussy.  Take a look at the picture below. 

What's the expression?  Is it happy in bright sunlight?  Getting ready to cry?  Wanting milk?  Trying to poop?  This one, actually, is Mimi being happy but starting to get slightly bored because Papa was taking far too long with his camera.  But, it's very close to what Mimi looks like when she starts to strain.  Even the whiny/groaning sound is similar.  It made sense that she'd groan, though, because her stool had become quite impacted, and quite painful to pass.  Poor little girl.  She was producing mutant bunny scat.

To help Mimi, we had two missions to accomplish: 1. Get her regular; 2. Soften her stool.

The dietary changes came first.  Rice was cut out of her diet and, with her getting older, we were able to reduce the amount of formula and breast milk she was taking in, eventually switching over to cow's milk entirely.  Lots of leafy green vegetables were added as well.  This has helped immensely, but didn't fully address the problem.  We also had to introduces prune juice into her diet, which Mimi rejected at first, but now enjoys when it's combined with apple juice and then diluted. 

We're still trying to find the right balance of milk, protein, grains, and juice for Mimi.  It's getting better, but we're still a little concerned because she's just not herself when she's really backed up.  She's such a little trooper, though, and we're very proud of her for dealing so well with our parenting ignorance.  If you have any suggestions for us, please share!

Mimi's Development Milestones - June 8th, 2011

Wednesday, June 8th: ~7:30pm

Today being both relatively quiet and oppressively hot, it was a great opportunity to reflect on what Mimi has been learning.  A lot can happen in a week.

Motor Skills:
Mimi has made tremendous strides recently with her gross motor skill development.  She has been slightly delayed with crawling and cruising, as was confirmed by her pediatrician, but over this past week she has excelled in both.  When Mimi first started exploring our apartment, she'd do so by scooting.  She'd sit on her butt, extend her legs, and then yank them back in, scooting forward as she did.  After a few weeks she was racing around the apartment.  Unfortunately, because she could scoot, which enabled her to both explore the apartment and to reach most of her toys, she was well behind when it came to crawling, sitting up, or standing.  She just couldn't be bothered. 

Eventually she started doing a bit of crawling on her own, but it wasn't until this past week that everything has come together.  She's now crawling on all fours, faster than she can scoot, and she's cruising from one couch to the other.  When she first started cruising, she enjoyed it, but would become anxious when it came time to sit down.  She just wasn't sure how to do it.  She's now switching from standing to sitting with ease, at least with the help of the sofa.  The sofa seems to be key, though.  When holding on to anything else, such as a dining table chair or her play house, she draws a blank when it comes time to sit down.  I watched her struggle today with this, but didn't provide help right away.  I held back and let her try to figure it out on her own.  Eventually, with a little support to stabilize her, she found her way down.  She was so proud of herself that she clapped and giggled.  It's so amazing to see the sense of accomplishment on her face with each of her little successes. 

While getting down from the couch today, Mimi inadvertently sat on a basket.  It was like she was sitting on a chair and, to my surprise, it completely disoriented her.  I took her off her new "seat" and placed her on a pillow, which was a bit more familiar.  She eventually figured out how to get down from there and, again, was very proud. 

I was considering Mimi's reaction to sitting on these makeshift chairs and think, at least at this point, that sitting on a chair is much more of a cognitive skill than a physical one.  There's little benefit to using a chair unless one is going to do something that the chair helps to enable, which generally involves a table of some sort, or simply taking a rest.  Right now, Mimi doesn't really understand the benefits of tables and when it comes to taking a rest, it's far easier to simply sit on the floor.  I think that this is why she was so confused by sitting on the basket.  It served no purpose and actually made it harder to do what she wanted.  I imagine (and sincerely hope) this will change! 

Lastly, Mimi is beginning to cuddle.  This is so cute to watch!  At first she'd only lay her head down on Mama's shoulder, but now that I'm home, she's starting to do this with me as well.  She's also beginning to cuddle her stuffed dog.  Perhaps the best thing, though, is when she's cuddling one of us she'll mimic our actions: she's taken to patting our backs!

Cognitive Skills:
Mimi's cognitive skills are coming along as well, particularly when it comes to language.  She is a constant babbler these days, and what she babbles seems to be getting more complex.  She's gone from "di-do, di-do, ah, ooooo," to multi-syllable babbles like "gojibadu."  I have no idea what it means, but she seems to enjoy it.

She can still only use one word effectively - "wan-wan," which means doggy - in terms of object recognition.  However, her listening vocabulary is getting better.  She consistently seems to identify "Mama," "Papa," "Chu and Kissu" (both "kiss" in Japanese, and she'll follow the command), "Kutsuita" (which means "stuck together" in Japanese.  When said, she'll touch her head to ours), Grandma, Grandpa, and several character names from books.

I think that books have had a significant impact on her development.  Many of the words she knows come from the stories we share.  For instance, "kutsuita" is a book about different animals getting "stuck together" and ends with a mom, dad, and baby cuddling.  It's very cute and one of Mimi's favorites.  Another book, "Colors," has a picture of a bear in it.  On one reading, Sumie made a growling sound for the bear, which scared Mimi a bit.  She's kept this in her mind and with each read, she remembers the sound and actively hunts for the bear.  We're teaching her how to turn pages.  It takes a bit longer, and can be a bit confusing given that Japanese and English books work in different ways, but it's allowed Mimi to search books for her favorite characters. 

Over the past week Mimi has requested that the same book be read multiple times.  She has always loved books, but she was a bit of a frenetic reader.  Each night we'd have every single book she owns pulled from her book rack and strewn on the floor.  We'd dive into one book, perhaps only a page deep, and then she'd look for another.  It was nice to see she was interested, but it made for an awful mess.

With time, though, she started sitting through specific books a bit longer.  It seemed her attention span was improving.  I was happy to see this, but not as excited as I was to find her requesting the same book over and over.  I think that this is a huge milestone in terms of her cognitive development.  She is now beginning to discover that the images in the books may be connected, that there is a common thread knitting them together.  This is perhaps the first step in following a narrative, beginning to comprehend a simple story, and I'm ecstatic to see my daughter on this track.

There's so much more to share, but given that I'm typing this with Mimi on my lap, and she has just figured out how to use the touch pad on the laptop, it's time to sign off.  If you have any questions on what she's been learning, feel free to post them in the comments section and I'll respond.  Considering the best path for her ongoing development is perhaps my favorite aspect of my new "job."

-Steve 

Soggy Bread, Leftover Gyoza, and NYC's Best Hot Dogs

Tuesday, May 7th: ~9:00pm

With Mimi in daycare today, most of my time was devoted to steaming spinach and bok choy, boiling chicken, and straining chicken stock to replenish the frozen "nuggets" we use for Mimi's lunch and dinner.  Beyond that I made dinner, talked with the insurance company, watched a little Top Gear, and read a chapter or two in "Gotham," a massive history of NYC.  When I'm on my own I'm a rather boring person.  That's why Tuesday's details end here and we switch back to Monday, which Mimi made far more interesting. 

Thanks to "hell parking" Sunday night, the car was at a meter that was going to go active at 8:00am.  I packed Mimi's bottles and snacks, woke and dressed her, and we headed out to the car to take Mama to work and ourselves to the Upper West Side.

We found parking right away on 76th street, our old home, and with Mimi tackling a bottle of juice in her stroller, we headed down to 72nd to get Papa some breakfast and his favorite Upper West Side indulgence:  Gray's Papaya.

Claiming to serve the "filet mignon" of hot dogs, Gray's Papaya serves ridiculously tasty dogs and tropical drinks.  Odd combination, agreed, but it does have a history or sorts and there are several other tropical drink dog stands in the city (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gray%27s_Papaya).  Gray's holds a special place in my heart as I ate their dogs for lunch two weeks straight when I first moved to New York.  10 years ago, it was only $2.95 for two dogs and a drink.  Times have changed. 

The restaurant is standing room only, so after getting our dogs, Mimi and I sidled up to one of the counters and tucked in.  Though Mimi's still a bit young to fully appreciate the low-rent goodness of these beauties, she thoroughly enjoyed the bits of bun I would sneak down to her between bites.  She loved it!  This information would serve me well later in the day as it turned out. 

From Gray's we walked over to the Dakota - John Lennon and Yoko Ono's home and location of John Lennon's assassination.  From there we crossed the street to Strawberry Fields. 

Strawberry Fields was dedicated to John by Yoko Ono following his death and since its creation has remained one of the most visited areas of Central Park.  Mimi and I took a seat near the "imagine" mosaic and settled in for a good sit - Papa with a Gatorade and Mimi with a fresh bottle of milk - and  a bit of people watching.  Tourist areas, if they're quiet, can be rather interesting places to "see the world."  Two tour groups came and went while we were there.  One was a rag-tag collection of English speakers, the other a vibrant group of Italians about 25 strong.  Mimi and I were hoping for a Japanese group, but no luck. 

On our way out we were stopped by an older woman who was sitting on a bench near the exit.  I used to find this odd, even annoying, but I've found that when I'm with Mimi I'm quite popular with women over 50.  Well, I guess its only Mimi who is really popular, but given that she can't talk yet, I tend to get chatted up.  Though this woman claimed to have worked in Central Park for the past 25 years, and to have met Yoko Ono on numerous occasions, she shared that this was her first outing to Strawberry Fields, which rather called everything she'd shared into question.  But that's what's so much fun about random conversations with people in New York.  It's always a bit surreal. 

After that we did a spot of shopping and then headed for home, where we found excellent parking! 

The rest of the day was relatively quiet save for Mimi's dinner.  She enjoyed her leftover gyoza from the day before (filling only), but when it came time for the dinner roll, one of her favorites, she balked after only a few bites.  Recently, when having bread, Mimi would sometimes stop, shove her fingers down her throat, and bring the rest of her dinner back up.  This was strange to me, especially given that she had loved the bread from Gray's Papaya earlier that day.  With close observation I found that the fresh bread we had been giving her became very dense and sticky with saliva.  As a result, a giant "bread patch" had formed on the roof of her mouth.  I pulled Mimi's fingers out, shoved my own in, removed the bread, and got a smile.  In the future, I'm going to "soggify" a bit of Mimi's bread to see if that helps get it down a bit better.  If I hadn't been to Gray's Papaya earlier that day I might not have made the discovery.  I guess sometimes it's good to have hot dogs for breakfast. 

Friends and Enemies

Monday, June 6th: ~Afternoon

This Sunday a close friend of Sumie's came down from Connecticut to meet us at Sumie's parents' home in Westchester.  Lucky for Mimi, and for us, Yuko brought along her daughter, Ayla, who is definitely Mimi's senior at nearly 5 years old.

We ordered sushi with a few extra servings of "ikura," which are fish eggs (salmon eggs to be specific, I believe) and Alya's favorite.  Most "American" kids would have been freaked out by the mounds of rice covered in red, slightly gooey, translucent balls, but Ayla dived right in.  She even knew what they were!  There's a lesson there for me.  Although I don't care for them much, I need to make sure that Mimi doesn't recognize this.  I need to give her the opportunity to try as many types of food as I can, even if I don't care for what's on the plate.  This is going to be particularly difficult for me when it comes to raw tomatoes or natto, but I'll find a way to make it happen.  Mimi didn't have much sushi that day, but she did enjoy the yummy egg taken out of Papa's futomaki. 

A little over a week ago we had a picnic with some friends in Central Park.  They brought along their son, who is a dear, and only a week older than Mimi.  He was chill, Mimi was bossy.  Well, that's a bit of an understatement.  It turns out that she can be quite the little dictator, demanding whatever is in some other child's hand, mouth, eyesight, etc.  We thought this might simply be a result of being in daycare - either being the oldest in the infant room right now, or the weakest in the infant room several months ago. With Ayla, we discovered that Mimi has the ability to make demands on older kids as well.  Ayla was excellent with her, though, (a perfect role model for our Mimi) and even fed her for us.

You'll notice Harrychan, Obachan and Ojichan's sheltie, in the picture above with Mimi and Ayla.  He is now fourteen years old and is really beginning to show his age.  He's still brave, though, and looks out for all of the members of the Iwasaki family, even Mimi.  We're happy to hear that Mimi's visit helped to energize Harry for a little while and lift his spirits.

All told, it was looking like a perfect weekend.  A perfect weekend, that is, until our poor car was accosted by a middle-aged peon from out of town in her Lexus!  We were driving up 78th street, right next to our apartment building, when all of the sudden we heard a bang and a scrape.  I had no idea what it was, but Sumie knew instantly.  This careless person, who had double-parked, decided to fling open her door into our moving car.

I slammed on the brakes, reversed, and got out to survey the damage.  I was trying to tell myself to be calm.  It was working until I saw the door.

Now, I definitely could have been more polite.  My first words were, quite loudly, "Insurance.  Now!"  It would have been more effective for me to simply begin conversation with the car's owner (who turned out to be a good guy) and his wife (who wasn't) with a measured if slightly annoyed air.  But I simply said, "Insurance. Now!"  I'm a firm believer that if you damage my car as a result of your own ignorance, disregard, and stupidity, I will yell at you.  No exceptions - wife, child, future Pope, it doesn't matter.

My stomach was in knots as I tried to find parking after the incident.  I came home an hour later (yes, nightmare parking) and entered the house in a very sour mood.  Mimi was on the living room floor with Sumie and she gave me the biggest smile.  I refused to return it.  I was going to be angry.  I went into the bedroom and flung my bag and keys on the bed.  I would not be cheered up.

I came back out to the living room and, once again, Mimi attempted to make me smile.  I wouldn't let myself be swayed.  I flashed her an angry look and something in her face broke.  Her smile faded and her eyes stopped sparkling.  At that moment, something in me broke as well.  Here was this excited little person, only wanting me to be happy, and I returned the favor by acting like a complete ass.

Later that night, I still felt sick about the car, but I felt even worse for having seemed angry toward Mimi for no reason.  She taught me something that night.  Yes, I'll still probably yell at idiots who damage my car, and yes, I'll probably still come home from time to time in a sour mood, but from now on I will do my best to make sure that remains my problem, not my daughter's.  She has enough to worry about as it is!