Remember last year when I declared that we were going to Paris this year? Yeah, ok. That dream is dead postponed. That Paris fund, which I admit never got its own separate account like I had planned, has now turned into the Claudine preschool fund. Or at least a small percentage because I’m not telling you how much her preschool is going to cost next year for 4 almost full days a week. It’s an embarrassing amount of money, an unthinkable amount of money for 1 year of preschool. Think of an outrageous figure and double that (if you’re not in the NYC metro area, than triple or quadruple it).

So is it worth it? I’m not normally the type of parent who gets caught up in the hype of “only the best for my kids”. We still use the same beat up MacLaren stroller, recall and all, that we’ve used for the past 5 and half years. Hand me downs are fine and welcome, and despite Mia’s insistence that everyone has an American Girl doll, I’m not about to fork over $100 bucks for a doll, especially one from a company that rolled out a homeless doll called Gwen.

In a city like the one in which we live, it’s not hard to become sucked into the competitive and cut throat vortex of preschool madness, where you have some camps who firmly believe that acceptance into an Ivy League college starts with the crucial selection of the “right” preschool. Even if you don’t buy into that crap (and most of my friends don’t, but I know it exists), getting into your preschool of choice sometimes involves getting up at pre-dawn early hours and lining up to get an application, just as you may have done in another life to get tickets to a concert (or a free couch, in the case of the grand IKEA Brooklyn opening). There are school tours, essay questions that make you delve into the psyche and habits of your 2 or 3 year old, and then the interviews. Yes, interviews. With your child. Before you start thinking that anybody in the city is crazy to put up with this (well, we are), it’s really a (mostly) simple explanation of supply and demand.

Now, I must admit, I didn’t go through any of that since the parent/child classes that we started going to way back with one particular new program in the neighborhood when Mia was a toddler organically morphed into a preschool. Mia was just in. And so is Claudine. It just so happens to be an excellent program and one I believe in – the kind where your kid might come home to tell you that they studied Andy Goldsworthy that day or mention in passing, stuff like “DNA is the puzzle inside your body”.

So yeah, I guess I am thinking that it’s worth it. 1 year of preschool at a premium price before Claudine gets thrown into the jungles of public school Kindergarten. We will sacrifice vacations and big purchases and give up many many things this year and next. Sacrifices. Now I’m talking like a real parent, huh?

So Paris Paris Paris, it will be a few more years till you and I meet again. You will always be there I suppose. The kid will only be in preschool once, after all.

Alright, don’t laugh at me, but that Jay-Z/Alicia Keys Empire State of Mind video gives me the chills (say WHA? did you just say that a Jay-Z song gives you the chills? Oh, come on). Like if I was still living on the west coast, this video and song would make me insanely and utterly homesick just like most images of NY did back then. But you wanna know what really sent me reeling with homesickness every time I saw it? The opening theme to Living Single, you know that sitcom with Queen Latifah and Tootie from the Facts of Life. Sure, plenty of other shows took place in NY, but Friends was so decidedly !Fake NY! and while Seinfeld was very NY, it didn’t make me long for the city with this ache in my heart like the opening street scenes from Living Single.

So what is it about this place that gets under your skin and lures you back even though you vowed never to return when you fled for the states in the Pacific Northwest which was as physically far away from NY as possible without crossing any oceans? Why do we put up with the crowds, living in small spaces, the trash, the noise, the grit, the ridiculous school situation, the astronomical costs of healthcare and housing, and people always in. your. face?

I really have no answer for you other than this place has always been home. I’m glad I moved away from here for those years back in the 90s as it gave me perspective on where I came from, but when I think about what I missed most about home, it wasn’t so much about specific places or people (though I missed those too). It was much more intangible than that, a certain feeling or energy that I associate with this city that can’t be replicated anywhere else. Unlike my years in Olympia or Portland, where I probably could have collected cans every month to pay for my share of the rent for the 2 story Victorian house that I lived in with 3 other people, NYC isn’t an easy place to live. I remember when Mark moved here 14 years ago without ever really having visited the city as an adult. He followed me here when I decided it was time to move back and he lived on a living room floor of a small, dark apartment in the Financial District that he shared with a former classmate. He was 3 months in and he was close to calling it quits. I’m not romanticizing this city at all and I’m sure that our lives would be much more comfortable and affordable if we moved somewhere else. But I discovered that I actually missed the struggles, the diversity on ALL fronts, the friction and craziness and yes, the in your face people that make you work harder and achieve higher. I NEED this.

NY isn’t for everybody and many people have a love/hate relationship with the city like an abusive partner that they can’t quite quit, but I’m hanging in here and I’m raising my kids here. When I was living away from home, my mom couldn’t figure out why I wanted to live anywhere else when all I needed was here in NY. Okay, mom. You win.

(oh, and Times Square above? I don’t love Times Square, but I recently found myself there one night after not having been in that neighborhood in probably years. Felt like a tourist, it was alien territory. New York, after nearly 4 decades, you still surprise me.)

I’m finding myself in a situation that I’m totally unprepared for. One that I was expecting down the line, yes, but not now, not this soon. Some time after your baby is born you might have flashes of your child as an adolescent in school and wonder what’s in store – will she be popular? Will she be unpopular? Picked on? Considered the weird one and ostracized? Ganged up on? The last to be chosen for a team? What? All of this stuff SUCKS and we probably all have some recollection of the angst related to growing up as we navigated our way around social lessons. One of the perks of being an adult is that you don’t have to deal with this crap anymore (hopefully).

I never thought I had to worry about Mia. She’s always been confident, gregarious, an extrovert and could instantly make friends wherever we went. I always thought Claudine would be the kid I’d have to worry about since she is shy in public and takes a long time to open up to people. But here we are, already dealing with an antagonistic situation and the heartache of suddenly having a friend drop you, of being told that you’re not wanted or liked, and not having a best friend in class while others have all paired up in twos.

Mia’s a strong kid. She’s resilient and not easily bothered by things, but she is also fiery and “overly-friendly” to the point where she could be overbearing. I know this. And lately I’m seeing some of her confidence start to wane just a little. It’s hard to know what’s really going on at school and a little piece of me wonders if she bends the story or leaves out details so that the situation is more sympathetic towards her. I just don’t know. But when your kid is telling you that she spent most of recess by herself in her “lonely place”, well, that just breaks your heart.

So how do you deal other than to talk to your kid, the teacher and the other parent? You can’t control what’s going on when you’re not there. YOU’RE NOT ALWAYS GOING TO BE THERE. And let’s be honest – kids, especially girls, can be mean. So viciously mean. It makes you want to gather up your kid in your arms and cast a protective invisible forcefield around them so that any meanness just pings right off. You don’t want this for your child. Ever. And the thought that I have a large part in how this little person who will grow up to be an adult someday will handle all these hard lessons in life? Terrifying, especially when you’re trying to get your own shit together.

We’re nearing the end of January – how did that happen? Despite not working this month, it’s been a good month and business is coasting right along. Remember a few posts back when I wrote that I didn’t trust in myself enough? I feel like I’m learning to do that this month, but it’s happening organically, not forced. There are a few things that are still making me quite anxious, but I’m trying really hard not to worry about it. It’s out of my hands and if it happens, it happens. In the meantime, I’m looking at this “free time” as a gift to work on some projects that I am most excited about – some money making ventures and some that are not.

So how did my usual nervous-about-work-and-money, worried-to-the-point-of-depression self get to this very zen place?

It’s all about trust.

I’m trusting in my abilities to make projects happen this year.

I’m trusting in my freelance career to bring work when the time and project is right. If I look back at the 8 years of being on my own, there has ALWAYS been work, even when I’ve gone through dry spells of a month or two. Every year that I’ve freelanced I’ve brought in more income than the year before and of course the tides can change, but instead of brushing that comforting fact aside when I’m feeling anxious, I have to start trusting in this track record. But I also won’t feel like a failure if the record reverses or if I lapse back into a momentary state of anxiety.

I’m trusting that the business will be able to pay all our bills. Not now, but someday.

And the career shift? I’m making plans, brainstorming and finally seeing a way. Remember the documentary, Lemonade, that I wrote about late last year? I went to the screening last Friday and although it was shorter than I expected (I wish the documentary went more in depth about each story as it left me wanting to know more), it was still a good way to start off the year – a reinforcement of sorts – as to why some of us make the leap to independence without turning back. Let’s not romanticize this as I know the process is hard, full of soul searching with periods of self doubt, sacrifices and maybe some weeks of eating nothing but rice, beans and pasta. But I trust in this decision completely.

There was only one thing I wanted for Christmas this year – a new bag, but this year I was lucky enough to get 2. Now let me back up by saying that like most women out there, I love bags and shoes and when I had more money pre-kids, I’d buy a bag every year, sometimes even 2. But then I fell into the whole diaperbag-as-handbag thing when Mia was born. I mean why would you carry 2 bags when you can just shove your wallet and keys into a diaper bag which is huge to begin with anyway? But after awhile, it’s was also kind of awful in that “I’m such a mom now and I’m losing my identity and style” kind of way. So I pretty much ran the other way from diaper bags when Claudine was born and bought a large, roomy handbag with 3 interior pockets. It’s the last bag I’ve bought and I’ve used it every day since.

So my new bags? The black one is a custom order from valhallabrooklyn and I adore it. Lots of pockets and the leather is soft. I haven’t carried around a black bag in ages so even if the color is safe, it’s new to me.

The nubuck navy bag in the second photo is from ClareVivier. No interior or exterior pockets. No lining. Completely minimal except for the brass hardware and that fantastically yummy color. It fits my laptop. Really, what more could I want?

These new bags are roughly the same size and weight – they aren’t very structured and they are smaller than my old bag, which is what I wanted. I’m happy to say that after 2 kids and almost 5 years of carrying around diapers, a travel package of wipes, burp cloths, bottles, snacks, toys, a change of clothes and a changing pad, the only thing in my bag these days are my wallet, keys, phone, lip gloss and a metro card.

We have a birthday in the house today. It’s not a big one for Mark (unlike mine coming up this year), but our schedule was such that he had a nice 3 days off from working. We spent the weekend in the burbs with my parents, had a great Korean bbq dinner last night that had us so full we could barely walk out of the place, and had fun plans for today. Too bad the weather isn’t cooperating. It’s crazy out there! Torrential rain and 60 mph winds. Umbrellas are useless, people were struggling to walk. I guess we will opt for a birthday dinner closer to home. I also admit that I felt a wee bit of guilt making plans to go to MoMA and a birthday lunch at Momofuku with just Claudine since Mia was in school during the day. Oh, well…wasn’t in the cards, but shhh…you wouldn’t have told her, right?

We have a small farmer’s market across the street from our house that, until this year, ended in December. This winter, however, they have teamed up with the Can Factory Market so that we in the neighborhood can have our fresh veggies and pickles year-round. Mia, Claudine and I ventured over on an especially cold Sunday to check it out. I was actually a bit surprised by the selection. Lots of fresh herbs, good apples, and this beautiful orange cauliflower. Orange cauliflower is a bit sweeter than the standard white variety, which makes it perfect for roasting or sautéing. Make sure to get it nice and caramelized for the best flavor. We ate it with foccacia, roasted beets and salsify soup that day. Makes for a perfect winter meal.

Orange Cauliflower with Garlic and Lemon (serves 4)

1 head orange cauliflower, broken into florets (other colors of cauliflower can also be used)
2 Tablespoons olive oil
4 cloves garlic, minced
Juice of 1 lemon
Coarse sea salt and pepper to taste

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Drop in the cauliflower and blanch for 2 minutes. Drain and set aside. Heat the olive oil on high heat in a large sauté pan. Add the minced garlic and fry until it just starts to brown. Add the cooked cauliflower and continue to cook for several minutes, stirring occasionally. It should start to brown a little bit. When the cauliflower is brown enough for you, squeeze in the lemon juice, cook for another 30 seconds, and serve immediately.

Who’s doing the pressuring you say? None other than myself. So much pressure, but this is how I am, even as a kid, always. I’m realizing that these project goals that I have set and my current inability to meet them, whether because of state of mind, time, illness, other commitments, whatever…have shrouded me in a fog of guilt. It isn’t a new feeling – I’ve learned to let go of some of that at some point along the way because I used to be a lot worse. You know, one of those people who couldn’t sit still, who thought that laying around watching TV was a waste of time, and so I’d have to multi-task with 3 other things (okay, I still do that). But having kids took some of that irrational thinking away. For the first time in my life, I was okay with “just” hanging out and doing nothing. So I really need to push these feelings of guilt that are starting to rear its head around the edges again.

I recently had a great night out with my friend Lindsey, who is a fellow neighborhood mom who I’ve known for years, but is also an artist and lighting designer. Aside from her amazing, and I mean, AMAZING work, what I admire about her is that I really feel like she’s figured out the work/life balance thing. She can go to her studio, do her work, stop when it’s time, and come home. This is how she wants it to be and this has been her priority. She *makes* it happen. Talking with her about the insecurities, the neurosis, risk taking and whether or not it is a learned or inherent personality trait and just basic shop talk about being an independent designer was just what I needed. Even though she is very prolific, she’s always seems very relaxed and organic about her work flow.

So whose timeline am I on? Why such pressure to get things done all at once? A little light goes off, but sometimes you need a friend to help you see it. Nobody is putting that pressure on you. Nobody else cares if you tackle that project now or later. I used to feel bad that we weren’t doing more events and flea dates as all of our other Brooklyn foodie friends. They were seemingly everywhere, doing this thing and that, but we’ve come to grips with the fact that we’re at a different stage in life than they are. It makes sense. We’re not 28 anymore.

And here we are, already approaching the end of January. I have only been working sporadically the last few weeks, but I have yet to touch anything on my projects or to do list.

And that is ok.

Claudine’s potato people drawings are evolving. She’s been drawing them much like the above for awhile now. As you can see, she’s added hair, ears, fingers and shoes from her early versions. She’s also learning how to write and spell (“mina” is supposed to be “mia” with an extra “n” thrown in there). The sad person (I think those are tears?) is supposed to be her Aunt Lara who is sad because she is not here visiting NY. Claudine drew this last month. But then…

…all of a sudden one day, she started drawing people very differently. The heads got much smaller and suddenly had elongated bodies and noses, sometimes even eyelashes and really long hair (though we seemed to have lost the ears).

I love this drawing above. It’s gotten a bit abstract and even a little goth, but it KILLS me that she drew tufts of grass under the people’s feet. I mean this kid just turned 3.

Mia’s people have evolved since school started too. It’s gotten less “sweet” but there’s more expression here. The figures almost look a bit Tim Burton-esque (why yes, I *am* analyzing my kids’ art).

The girls will draw for quite a bit of time sitting side by side next to each other at the table and I’m sure that is how Claudine has picked up on drawing bodies for her faces – by watching her older sister. Mia’s also helping her to spell her name since unlike “Mia”, “Claudine” is a handful of letters to remember. I watched them tonight playing a game called “mail” where they will draw or write each other letters and put it in the “mail slot” (usually through the open bookcase or under a door). They’ll then call each other on their “cellphones” and discuss the day’s mail like little old ladies. Wouldn’t it be nice if life were that simple and pleasant?

It’s been hard to stay upbeat when there is so much suffering out there. I can stop watching the news or turn away from the images, but that doesn’t seem right either. I want to know what’s going on, I don’t want to push it aside. I’ve been thinking about the recent suicide of the NYU computer science professor as well. If you are unfamiliar with the story, you can read it here if you wish, but the jump from his 16th story balcony allegedly came after an argument with his wife over the care of their premature twins. Not surprisingly, there has been some discussion on whether or not fathers can experience male post-partum depression, which really is a topic that has not been talked about. Also of interest is this related article in the Daily Kos about the ugly and hurtful nature of anonymous commenting. This quote – “the Internet is not a consequence-free playland” – articulated what I’ve been thinking about for a long time, but I’ll save that for another post.

Parenting might be the hardest thing you will do. I know it is for me. There are really good days, there are bad days. And some days are just plain HARD. Yesterday was a really bad day even though we had all the intentions of a good day, especially with the weather thawing to a balmy 46 degrees. It was brilliant outside. We had plans. It wasn’t to be though, from every angle, and I’m still feeling the sting today. But you have to try and move on. The kids quickly do. But it’s disheartening to see a day go sour when you had plans to do something fun because ironically, you realize that you need more joy in your life and a rare day presented itself when every member of the family was free from commitments. It feels defeating.

As bloggers we curate content that is only a small slice of our life. What we choose to share is of our own personal choice and comfort level. I’ve been blogging since 2004 (via popgadget and babygadget). Before that I ran an Asian American webzine with a restaurant and food guide, so in actuality, I’ve been blogging much earlier than that (though we didn’t call it that back then, and good lordy, I had to handcode every single page of that massive site). After 4 years of blogging about baby products and gadgets, I knew that I wanted to return to a format that was much more personal. After a while, writing about pretty things, shopping and products felt empty and tedious, and while I do immensely enjoy reading all the wonderful design blogs out there (I really do!), I find the blogs that I gravitate towards the most these days are ones that are more personal, for all the reasons that some of you commented on in the last few posts (thank you, by the way).

One of my favorite bloggers, Metrodad, only posts once a month, sometimes with even longer lapses, but he has a dedicated reader base, judging by the comments alone, who await his posts. Why do they stick around? Because he’s funny and honest, and you sort of feel like you know the person (or what they choose to reveal) and you start caring about them (kinda weird, right??). I relate to a lot of what he writes and it feels good to be validated about your feelings when others are feeling something similar (and in a coincidence of all coincidences, we actually both wrote pretty much the same post on the same day). But when he revealed that he was in the process of getting a divorce, it was shocking as there were no indications about any problems in the marriage in previous posts. I respect that he held back, but opened up about it when he was ready. Now he blogs about being a single dad.

And so as we approach the 2 year anniversary of the blog, I finally have come to terms with what this blog is after fretting now and again that it might be too personal for a business-related blog. I’ve had some friends raise eyebrows about how personal it is, only because they wonder what customers might think when they see posts about kids and bits of our life when they were just expecting….what, cookies? I don’t know. I’ve thought about taking the link off of our W&S website for this reason, but I’ve decided to leave it alone. In my mind, it’s almost impossible to separate our life from the business. We started the business, among other reasons, because we wanted to make a change from restaurant life so that Mark can spend more time with the kids. All of that – dealing with business stress as we struggle of find a balance with family life, the challenges of being a dual self employed household in one of the most expensive cities in the world, figuring out the logistics of pushing 15 packages headed to the post office in a granny cart while walking your kid to school – all of that is intertwined. I doubt that if I was just writing about cookies, you’d stick around. All of it is a part of our story.