When Fairway opened up in Red Hook Brooklyn in 2006, we, like most Brooklyners, cheered on and declared that grocery shopping would be changed forever. Well, we did start shopping at Fairway like most of our neighbors, but after a month or two of driving 15 minutes over to the waterfront and parking in the spacious parking lot like suburbanites, Mark and I decided to stop. It had nothing to do with the quality or selection of the food. Quite the opposite really – Fairway did live up to its reputation, but we found ourselves falling prey to the Target syndrome. You know, you can’t leave the store without spending under a hundred bucks?

We were still in super frugal mode in 2006 and $100+ trips to the grocery store weren’t going to cut it, especially if the groceries weren’t going to last a week. The problem with Fairway is that there are so many good looking things to tempt you as you walk through the store, you just end up throwing all kinds of stuff that you wouldn’t normally buy in your cart. It’s like vacation spending.

Even though we’re no longer on a super strict budget like those early years when we became parents, our grocery budget and shopping habits haven’t changed at all. We still keep food purchases to about $450 a month for our family of four. This doesn’t include things like toothpaste, toilet paper, bottles of ketchup, shampoo, etc. which we buy in bulk a few times a year at Costco (yes, that does mean we have ridiculously large bottles of ketchup in our fridge), but it does include all food, including trips to the farmer’s markets (edit for clarification: this doesn’t include the occasional takeout or restaurants. When we were on a strict budget, this would happen maybe once a month). The good thing is that food is never wasted or thrown away. We only buy what we need, usually from a list. The bad part is that we rarely ever have fun stuff to just snack on around the house when we’re feeling snacky. If you were to just drop in on us one day for a surprise visit, We’d have nothing to offer you (sadly, my friends can attest to that. So if you want to drop by, give us some notice to shop, ok?). The only big change in our spending habits from those days is that we may eat out or get take out a little more frequently, but Mark still cooks pretty much 90% of the time.

I was thinking about those extreme budgeting days when we shopped at Fairway this morning. It was one of those Sunday mornings when the weather forecast derailed our original plans to go to the beach and we were trying to think of things to do (it didn’t at all rain, by the way). Exploring a neighborhood we haven’t gone to in awhile seemed perfect. I was also thinking that we needed to revisit those budgets that we stuck to 5-6 years ago. Remember that post about all the news bringing me down? Well the news didn’t get any better last week, did it? I am really trying not to freak out about the economy. For ourselves, our friends, my parents. But I don’t want to live in a bubble either and ignore what’s going on.

Oh, and did we manage to avoid the Target Syndrome at this Sunday’s trip to Fairway, our first in years? Almost. $94.

ps. that black building there in the last 2 photos? It’s across the street from the Fairway parking lot. The girls and I must have stared at it for a good 15 minutes. We even played “I spy”. Mesmerizing.

Amusement parks may very well be the 10th circle of hell as far as I’m concerned. Sure, they can be fun if you’re in the right frame of mind, but not in 90 degree weather and not right after coming from Stone Barns. BUT, we can only blame ourselves. It’s not like the kids came up with the idea themselves and forced us to drive there. It seemed like a good idea at the time, particularly because it’s right on the Long Island Sound, and a swim sounded appealing, but I should have known that as soon as the girls saw the rides they would be thinking of nothing else. The whole experience was jarring in the sense that I can’t think of anything else that’s as polar opposite of how we spent our Sunday morning.

Bucolic farm pastures vs. rainbow colored industrial steel and plastic
Farm animals vs. people in animal costumes singing choreographed dance numbers
Fresh, locally harvested food vs. Popeye’s Chicken and Nathan’s hotdogs
Quiet countryside vs thumping bass and loud music

Still, to see the excitement on the girls’ faces was almost worth the junk food and the lines to get on the rides. I had been to Rye Playland once before. It was the summer after my senior year in high school and some friends and I were visiting our art teacher who lived in a nearby town. I think it’s probably the last time I’d been to an amusement park as a “kid”, still wanting to go on rides. I don’t, however, remember being 4 years old and being such a thrill seeker. I swear Claudine in particular was getting addicted to that adrenaline rush of being twirled around, dropped from high points (that last photo up there? Her favorite ride which she must have gone on about 6 times) and zoomed through a mini roller coaster course. She said that the rides “tickled her tummy” and when she got off each one, she’d do a little hyper excited dance with this goofy grin on her face. Pretty funny stuff. And I guess that’s why as parents we tolerate spending hours in places that we normally wouldn’t want to spend our Sunday afternoons in. I may have loved going on these rides when I was a kid, but now that I am old, just watching the girls being tossed around is enough to make my stomach churn.

We had a weekend of extremes: Saturday the girls and I laid around the apartment and didn’t do much except to go get bagels in the middle of the day, but Sunday was super action packed. We started the day off at Stone Barns Center for Food and Agriculture. You can read more about the place here. We didn’t eat at the fancy restaurant, but did get lunch at the Blue Hill Cafe and ate in the courtyard. There must have been a wedding or event that day because there were lots of women dressed in breezy summer white dresses and guys in seersucker and crisp button down shirts. Or maybe people dress like that all the time to go to brunch on the farm, I don’t know. Stay tuned for tomorrow to see where we ended up the second half of our Sunday.

We had a reunion of sorts last week. Some old friends of ours who moved away to Australia 4 years ago finally came back to Brooklyn for a visit. The younger siblings were just babies when our friends moved away, but Mia and her old friend could not have been more excited to see each other after all those years. Quite honestly, we’re all sort of surprised at how much the girls remember. They were only 3 when they parted, but they still often refer to each other as best friends. I don’t think any of us really knew what to expect as each girl had built up the moment so much as the week of their visit drew near, but after an initial awkward moment of frozen faces and long, silent stares, the girls got on as if 4 years never passed and had the best time all week.

Mia and her friend have known each other since they were just a few weeks old (her mom was my first “mom” friend) and the girls spent a lot of time together in those early years. As a new parent, there are a lot of “firsts” that are significant and these 2 shared many “firsts”. At age 2, they were both starting to string together words into sentences, but I’ll never forget overhearing them engaging in what would become their first real conversation over snacks, sitting down across from each other at the table:

“I like your bib.”
“Thanks. It has cows on it.”

So I wonder, do you ever forget your childhood best friend? Because I never forgot. I remember. Her name was Lana and she lived next door, only our friendship didn’t consist of just playdates at each others’ houses – it was more unusual than that. We lived high up on the 14th floor of a tall apartment building in Queens and we shared a balcony that was separated by a green rippled plastic divider. I don’t remember exactly how I met Lana, but she must have been playing out on her balcony when I was doing the same and I think one day we started talking to each other after our curiosities got the best of us. I must have been 5 or so. Our friendship began on that balcony, each of us staying on our respective sides, laying on our tummies on the astroturfed floor and talking to each other through the narrow crack between floor and divider. It came to be where we’d call on each other daily after school and on weekends, calling out the other’s name if we were the first one out on the balcony. “Lana!”, “Lana!”, I remember yelling, my face either peered around the edge of the divider so I can see her side of the balcony on my tippy-toes, or with my face pressed to the floor to look under that crack. If she were home she’d come rushing out of her apartment, but there were days when I would call for 10 minutes, 20 minutes, and I’d finally give up, sadly going back inside. Eventually, the plastic divider that separated our balconies would crack near the bottom edge from the both of us tugging at it so much, and one day we were able to pull it apart from the frame like a trap door, slipping through to the other side to play.

I do remember going to her house for playdates and she coming over to mine. We must have as I can’t imagine that we did this when the weather got super cold (though I do remember calling her name to see if she were home all bundled up in a coat). Our friendship, however, consisted largely of our balcony playdates. It was like our own secret passageway. I don’t know when Lana moved, but she did. I remember peering into the next door balcony often after she moved away, hoping that I’d see my best friend, but I never saw her again.

I’d be curious to see if Mia and her friendship with her first best friend grows. Since they were so young when she moved away, I wonder if they both created memories of each other based on photos and hearing old stories rather than from real memories. Now that they are seven, their connection to each other will become that much more solid and real. One thing is clear. There was always a special bond between these two and I doubt that they’ll ever forget each other, regardless of what happens.

I still don’t even really know what Rainbow City is and we just went there.

School’s out. As predicted, Mia shed a lot of tears so Mark and I decided that she needed to go to a happy place. Bouncing around Rainbow City seemed like a happy idea. I’m relishing the fact that I don’t have to wake up early in the mornings for a few weeks until camp starts, despite whatever time the girls decide to wake up. It’s like I’m on summer vacation. I know. I’m pretty lucky that they are so self sufficient in the morning and don’t wake me up, ever. I’m also relishing this time of relative leisure which has started this week. Ok, the truth is I actually spent the day yesterday panicking on and off about my light work schedule. I think it was the first day since I decided that I wanted to take most of the summer off that I felt worried, irresponsible. No one is paying me to take a vacation. After all, if I don’t work, I don’t get paid.

But let me explain the need for this break. I often feel like I’m stuck in a vicious cycle: I want to expand our business and work on a few personal projects, but there is never enough time because I need to work to support our family, but none of these things are going to happen unless I free up more of my time. I often think how backwards it is that the business often takes a backseat to any other work obligations that I have. We’re trying to build a future with the biz, so shouldn’t it be the other way around? So this isn’t about a break from work. It’s a break from paying work, but I’ve got a list a mile long of things I want to get done. There’s a personal project that I’m working on that requires a lot of time, time that I will never have unless I make the time, so I am deciding to make the time. Sometimes when I let fear and rational thoughts creep in like it did yesterday, the decision seems questionable. Other times it feels like it needs to happen if I ever want to take a step outside of this cycle and try to fulfill anything on my list of goals. It’s scary. But I think I’ve come to the realization that things won’t really fall into place unless you start investing in yourself.

Seems like nothing signals summer better than berry picking. And it hits you, the heavy sweet scent of strawberries as soon as you get out of the car. Claudine is always more interested in picking flowers than she is fruit and our baskets always inevitably get littered with small blossoms and the random wildflower or weed, you know, “for decoration”. These strawberries went into a strawberry rhubarb pie that we brought to a school picnic the next day. Speaking of, today is the official last day of school for NYC public schools. If last year was any indication, Mia will come home awash in mixed emotions. Seems like she takes after me.

If you’re a longtime reader, then you might remember that 2nd photo from one of the earliest posts on this blog exactly 3 years ago. The years go by fast doesn’t it? And in that post about Coney Island I waxed nostalgic about the impending demise of Astroland, though every year the historic amusement park seemed to steal time by managing to stay open another year. But the park did close 4 months after that photo was taken and last year a new park opened in its place. I’m not a huge fan of amusement parks, but of course as a kid I thought they were the greatest things in the world. Growing up, our amusement park jam was the Six Flags Great Adventure in New Jersey. Seemed like we’d go there every Spring for an end of the school year field trip. Great Adventure also had this promotion every opening day where you’d get in free if you presented a snowball at the ticket counter. And so, every year when there was a decent snow day, my friends and I would pack a couple of good, hard snowballs and store them in our freezers just for that occasion.

The girls haven’t really been to any other amusement parks other than the ones at Coney Island and the rides at Seattle Center, so I’m guessing that a trip to a proper, big amusement park is in our future at some point. The thought of going on any rides just makes Mark and I gag at this point, but I remember what it was like when I was a kid. I wanted to go on every rollercoaster and every twisty, upside down, ride thingy out there. Judging by the extreme squealing and uncontrollable laughter on the faces of the girls as they are whisked away in teacups and mermaid boats, it won’t be long before they will too.

I think one of the best things about the girls getting older is that they are becoming true companions and I can take them places on my own that I wouldn’t have been able to even just a year ago when we were still dealing with a stroller. Like the Coney Island Mermaid Parade. I mean this looks fun, right? Shilo was even nice enough to whip up the girls some sparkly mermaid wear which the girls were thrilled about. Can’t even remember the last time I went to the Mermaid Parade, but it was definitely pre-baby years. All I had to say to the girls were “mermaid” and “Coney Island” and they were all over it, as any sequin and sparkly loving girl would be. I warned them that they might see “a lot of boobs”, but they just giggled and said “boobies” about 5 times. They even informed our parade watching neighbors that some of the drag-mermaids they were taking photos of were guys (“that’s actually a man, you know”). Oh, to be 4 and 7 and see the spectacle of it all. Now, if only Wigstock, one of my favorite events back in the day, would come back.

Miraculously, the rain ended on the day we took our bi-annual Storm King field trip with our preschool. If Fall was all about the leaves and the wild autumnal colors, then late May is all about the rambling green hills, made more lush by the recent rain, I’m sure (most of these shots were taken from a moving tram). The thing that hit me most about our trip this time was the smell. It hit you, strongly, the minute you stepped out of the car. It smelled like freshly cut grass, like sun, like green, like summer.

(ps…the Storm King website I redesigned is now live. pps…it’s meant to be a “temp placeholder” site until a bigger redesign can properly be done.)

It wasn’t the Rapture, but Saturday was the one hot sunny day all week. Sunday was misty and cool and now it’s Monday morning and we’re back to rain, so who knows. Maybe there was something special about that day. Thanks to those of you who came by and said hello at the Smorg Flea. It was pretty fun (and super crowded). Hope you didn’t catch me, you know, yelling at the kids or stuffing my face with food or anything. Although I have to say, with those long lines I feel like I spent most of my time at the Flea waiting on 5 different lines to get 5 different things for each member of the family. The girls were good sports though and they occupied themselves by “helping” Mark at the table and by digging and shoveling the gravel that is ground cover into little piles.

It was a trip being at that spot though. That waterfront used to be my favorite place in the city years ago before it was developed. There used to be nothing there – no tall shiny buildings, no grass, no park, no promenade – just some logs and gravel and the best view of the city skyline this side of the East River. I hadn’t been to that spot in well over 10 years. It was cool though, and I must say, the perfect 2nd location for the Brooklyn Flea.