Actual conversations

"Greta, who's the funniest? Dad or Mom?"
"Dadadadada."

"Greta, who's the smelliest?"
"Dadadada."
(For the record, she was passing the buck. Greta is definitely the smelliest in the family.)

"Greta, who's the prettiest in the family?"
"Mamamama."

"Greta, who's your favorite?"
"Mom. ... Mamamamama."

"Greta, who's the smartest?"
"Bababa yayaya."
"Quit trying to change the subject. Who's the smartest?"
"Yayaya."

"Okay, you don't need to answer that one. Greta, who's the cutest in the family?"
--silent, then looks down at herself, then looks up again.

NO JOKE.
Then we asked her most of the questions again. Same answers.

summer.

Last summer I held my teeny baby quietly in an air-conditioned apartment where our lives revolved around nursing and sleeping and goofy baby facial expressions and doctor checkups.
It was nice the way time stood still for a bit--in a way that was part really-hard-all-the-time and part soak-it-in-a-little-longer-while-the-world-passes-by.


I think this summer might be different.
Yesterday I held my sweaty (slightly bigger) baby in a romper and white floppy sun hat. I felt her bare thighs squish between my hands. I shared licks of a popsicle--which she soon took ownership of. I wiped sand out of her eyebrows and had to hold her back from walking all the way out into the ocean. I felt her exhausted body nestle heavy in my arms to rest after a long hot day, and it was perfect.


Summer is come. I am ready.

Rainy weather is the pits / BW babies are cute

We've had so much rain lately. By lately, I mean, much much rain multiple times every week.

I'm not thrilled with still layering sweaters and rainjackets when it's practically June. And since Utah was teasing at spring by February, it's felt like it's taken an eternity for good weather to finally get here and stay. 

I have good news: today was sunny! Tomorrow will be hot! And there is very little rain in the forecast for this week.

But here are some good things that came of a rainy afternoon inside the apartment:

This is what simultaneous crawling and growling looks like at our house.

City Babies

For some reason I had a notion that when you had a baby, you had to settle down and buy a house and live in the suburb. And suburbs and small towns are probably the only places that respect families and people that want families.

It's been a relief--and an empowering realization--to discover that big cities love babies too.

True story! This city is in LOVE with my baby.
Tuesday night as we strolled through the park, a man stopped Jason to say, "That's an awful lot of cute you're holding there." On the subway, one woman felt the need to get Greta's attention to tell her a sweet goodbye. When we got off, a new friend gave her a cheery "Goodbye, chiquita!"

And this was just one evening--and doesn't include yesterday's museum curator telling Greta "You're the best visitor we've had all year!" or how our cook at the dining room always pulls out some soft steamed vegetables or french fries for free for us to give the baby.

Our first weekend we were shocked. Delightfully surprised at the smiles and stops and points and double-takes our family got. I mean, we were coming straight from Provo, where our baby was complimented and smiled at plenty. But it was nothing compared to here.

She's literally stopped a group of tourists who saw her in the park and blocked the sidewalk pointing and taking pictures. She draws out conversations on the subways that are otherwise silent. She gets told (and we get told) "God bless you" most days of the week.

And not only do people like the baby, but there also seems to be a real respect for motherhood and families. I feel like people really look out for us.

When people see me alone in the subway hefting my stroller and small child up flights of stairs, they go out of their way to help, even if it means turning around or missing their train. I can't tell you how often people try to help me. People open doors or hold doors for us. People call out in the crowded trains "Watch out for the baby!" And there are the people that play peek a boo or make animal noises--or even the stoic teenage boys that suddenly cave when trying to entertain a baby.

Don't get me wrong. It's not all rosy. I begrudge the many many stairs in this city and that there are not elevators and ramps anywhere. It would also be nice to have a yard and not have to go through many hallways, elevators, and security desks to get outside. I heard a mom in our ward the other day bemoan that her child doesn't have more space to crawl, and wishing to own something instead of always renting apartments. When you have a baby, you also get some weirdies that stop us with plenty of advice. Or people that are not in their right/sober state that are trying to touch the baby and we have to intervene.

But I feel confident here. After the first few shaky days when I wondered how on earth I would get around this city alone, I've learned that I am more than capable, and that this city is much more baby-friendly than I knew.

Once I started looking for it, I saw that there are babies and kids everywhere. Newborns in wraps, and babies in strollers, and toddlers confidently walking these sidewalks. There are families here. They are playing in the park. They are also wrestling their children on the subway trying to give them snacks and read them stories and keep them entertained and quiet. There are moms that band together and get together often. There are friendly kids in the park who sing your baby "Happy Birthday." And these are all people that still have great families and only have an apartment and who may or may not even have a car.

As we're frantically and urgently trying to figure out whether or not we will be trying to stay in a month when this internship ends, it's been nice to find some comfort in this. Sure, some places are more conducive to families than others. But as we face a lot of uncertainty for the next few years, it's been nice to see families make it work in a lot of situations.

As it turns out, you can take your babies to the city. Or the suburb. Or the farm or the mountains or abroad or grandma's basement or wherever else you need to. And you can be confident and capable and find community and give your baby a wonderful childhood.

A stranger on the boardwalk randomly asked if we wanted a picture of the three of us the other night. She then was a little baffled at my camera, and took just one shot--and I kind of love it.

Weekend Recap

During the week, we live normal lives. Work, laundry, dishes, naptime, grocery store.
On the weekend, we party hard. Here's this last one.

Bottom left: We almost drowned on our way home from the Met, it was raining so hard. We also learned that Baby's raincoat is the most waterproof.
Bottom right: People have always been the same. "Ancient cool stuff? Better carve my name in it to prove I was here."

So the dinos at the Museum of Natural History were  cool, but we did realize we've been a bit spoiled by Utah museums in true dinosaur country.

Stake Street Fair

Chelsea

Great evening exploring Chelsea!
Greta's 1st Carousel, parks, doughnuts, and piers. Felt like a true kick-off to summer!

Matilda!

Very kind babysitter friends + lottery tickets + terrific show + Gray's Papaya? It all added up to be a hot date night.

We were blown away at the choreography and at the precision of these 10 year old performers! Ms. Trunchbull was a hoot and I was laughing 90% of the time she/he was onstage. Jason was partial to Miss Honey. We had partial view seats, but loved being up close anyway. We've been singing the music ever since.

If you're not familiar with the show, here's a taste from Letterman.

1 year old!

You've been waiting for these, right?

I had wanted to do a magical photoshoot in Central Park.  By the time I walked several miles around a new part of town and got a lens rented Monday, I decided that dream could die. We decided to take some pictures close to home and be happy about it. It was fitting, since almost all of her other monthly pictures have been taken in/outside our apartment.

So we ventured into the park next door just before it got too dark. I did accidentally leave the flower crown I had made inside. BUT, we found this magical little corner of weeds and grass and little white flowers that made my hippie dreams come true.

Since Photoshop is at home, they're not all perfectly cropped and color-corrected. But she's still real cute. So, here's my baby:
`sfdgadgssfbhadgdfgnadf`dqwdvdagdsaf

(haha! nice timing to come type on the keyboard, Greta!)

One more time. Here's some pictures of my baby:

One of the few we could salvage from the NY park bench part of the photo shoot.

Even in the city

It turns out that there are bad weeks even in New York City.

It was a little comical, really. A few hours after I titled a blog post, "If this isn't nice, what is?" my baby started puking. Sick babies are always sad. And it kept us from being able to spend time with Jason's parents who were in town. And it kept us from taking her 1st birthday pictures. And it meant we stayed in bed for most of her 1st birthday. And then she started having more dairy allergic reactions, so I had to start a dairy-free diet, which I've been pretty whiny about. And then the baby broke my camera lens, which we are all mourning. And then she had a bad tumble on our hard floor and tore her maxillary fremula--the little webbing just above your two front teeth--which included a lot of blood and frantically calling a pediatric dentist. 

And that was Day 3 of us not being able to go out with the Browns because of tragedies at our place, and having to stay inside all day long even though we watched the sunny days taunt outside our window.

We have had some pretty wonderful days here. But we've learned that some days can't be over soon enough, even in Manhattan.

We certainly tried to make up for things this weekend and kept a full schedule.

We want to soak in this city. We're reveling in the food and neighborhoods and architecture and people and are worried we won't be staying nearly as long as we like.

We also loved to celebrate our little girl this week. It was really sweet to reflect on all she's brought to our lives over the past year. She's growing up, fast. This week she started holding phones up to ear and talking on them. She also started in on tantrums. And eating chicken nuggets. This baby girl is getting a move on.

I might post pictures sometime. Between first birthdays and visitors, art museums and more art museums, picnics and parties, and weekend field trips... you can bet I've taken a solid 500 pictures this week. But this computer is so unbelievably slow at loading pictures I lose patience pretty quickly.

In any case, here's to this week--and the hope that it is better than the last!

"If this isn't nice, what is?"

I recently came across this Kurt Vonnegut passage:
(via Austin Kleon, whose books I've highly enjoyed)

"My uncle Alex Vonnegut, an insurance salesman who lived at 5033 North Pennsylvania, taught me something very important. He said that when things are going really well we should be sure to notice it. He was talking about very simple occasions, not great victories. Maybe drinking lemonade under a shade tree, or smelling the aroma of a bakery, or fishing, or listening to music coming from a concert hall while standing in the dark outside, or dare I say, after a kiss. He told me it was important at such times to say out loud, 'If this isn't nice, what is?'
I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim, or murmur or think at some point, 'If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.' "

This thought has been strumming through my head lately.
Yesterday, on a warm sunny spring afternoon that brought me to Central Park with my daughter, I had to repeat it a few times.

Can you blame me?
We sat underneath these branches and ate lots of crackers and watched dogs and other babies and everyone come by. Most people had to take a few pictures, too.

We are currently waiting for our Sunday dinner to cook.
A real meal. With vegetables. Being cooked in pots and pans, in our own apartment.
After a month of weddings and finals and two moves, I can't tell you how long it feels like it's been since this has happened.

Moving via airplane was convenient for a few reasons--but none of them culinary. We packed 3 plates, 3 bowls, silverware, and a few kitchen tools, and then arrived. We've made do this past week with street food, our cafeteria, going out to dinner, and sandwiches and cereal. We've still spent an embarrassingly large amount of money on food.

So as soon as Saturday came we made the trip out to Ikea. It was pretty comical trying to buy and pack home a kitchen on a series of buses and trains. We also got lost more times than we might admit. But we made it through and we're pretty sure that $25 set of three pots and a pan are going to change our lives (and save our budget). We are also exceptionally grateful for Ikea's children's toy section that helped us birthday shop. I was panicking about finding reasonably-priced children's toys before my firstborn's first.

It is nice to have a weekend.
It is nice to have my husband back. This semester just about ate him alive.
It is nice that we had a good morning at church and a collective two hour nap.
And it is nice to smell dinner cooking in my own kitchen.

May Day in Manhattan

I remember distinctly Jason's 25th birthday. While my visiting teachers babysat, we sat at dinner and talked about the next step. Internships, graduate school, moves. It was the first time we talked about an opportunity in New York.

As we ate dinner and rode the subway and walked the streets of Morningside Heights last night, I couldn't help but remember that conversation. We speculated a lot on where we might be come Jason's 26th. We don't have much of an idea yet!

Here's some fun ways we got to celebrate my birthday yesterday:

After more rain than we've ever seen in our lives, May 1st shaped out to be pretty sunny and beautiful.

So Greta and I hopped on the subway and found our way to the Met, spending the afternoon in the Egyptian wing. Greta and Hapshepsut had a lot to talk about.

 And we learned that babies visiting museums need some time to get out from a stroller and wander, so the grounds of the temple of Dendur fit the bill perfectly.

I love having a spring birthday. Every last year, tulips come up just in time to be gorgeous on my birthday. You can tell me how great your birthday is, but do the tulips celebrate it?

Outside the Italian place in Brooklyn.
Jason's coworkers gasped to learn we didn't have a babysitter for dinner. ("How will you get one before tonight?!") It was okay with us. We can't afford anywhere that won't allow babies--and haven't been in the city long enough to really find a babysitter. But, the restaurant was pretty empty, and she had 3 waiters making faces and providing exclusive entertainment for most of dinner. So we enjoyed the babysitting and had a nice dinner anyway.

The Hungarian Pastry Shop had some flourless chocolate cake and baklava for birthday cake. These little fingers somehow must have known that delicious pastries were inside this package.

It was a happy 25th!

Stay tuned for an apartment tour, Greta's 1st, and the Goodman Media review.