We're off to the Early Childhood Resource Center! {It's a library}



It's well worth the trip to the nook and cranny of the W. Village where you'll find this amazing library on the 2nd floor of a very old building at 66 Leroy Street that is not yet renovated with an elevator. So be ready to park your stroller at the door and lug baby and other personal belongings up the stairs while all the child-less folk breeze in and out of the easily-accessible 1st floor library. {This mommy-thing doesn't get any easier, does it?}




In addition to the expanse of literature that covers the spectrum of all things baby related {I'm talking from pre-pregnancy to all stages of child develpment to kid's lit, parent magazines, DVDs and old school cassette tapes and VHSs...oh! and a book sale rack where everything goes for either $1 or 25-cents}, what's super cool about the place is the indoor play area open everyday from 1-5:30pm {except for Sundays and Mondays when the library is closed}. I mean, both Hayes and his good friend Malcolm cried when it was time to go. {Granted, they ARE toddlers and really sensitive about...well, just about everything}. But every kind of safe, age appropriate and size appropriate play thing imaginable is there. And if you can get over the 3-minute cell phone rule {no kidding! it's posted all over the place} and the restroom with questionable sanitation {bring your own everything just to be safe}, it's a very cool place to be on a perfectly cloudy day like today.



Malcolm and Hayes take turns napping. But no rest for the truly weary, of course.

I Hate Kinkos

It’s a good thing there is nothing more to document my latest Kinkos experience except for the words on this page. An angry me mean-mugging the camera and Hayes whining is not a photo series anyone wants to see. Besides that, who’s in the mood for picture taking when they’re completely ticked off? But really, I should have just done it. I should have taken a shot of the outside of the place that looks like all the other Kinkos—clean, calm, orderly, a place where people go to get their business needs met. Send a fax, make a copy, place a large professional order, and maybe even use a computer to get it all done fast. Then I should have taken a few shots of the inside. A shot of the five black and white copy machines—some working, others not. And one of the lonely color copier with the “out of order” sign taped to it. I should have gotten a shot of the three long lines of customers growing more and more impatient as time dragged on. And the two employees behind the counter making themselves busy ignoring us all. At one point a third employee emerged from nowhere and began shouting that there was only one line. Then said employee proceeded to pick a fight with a customer for skipping the line. Oh! And I really should have gotten a shot of the employee who asked everyone in line to move out of his way as he vacuumed the floor. {It was around 2pm, by the way. Cleaning up behind the lunch crowd perhaps?}

Finally at the counter, I explained my very reasonable request—one hundred color copies. Easy enough for Kinkos, right? Wrong. I was told by a very simple-faced girl, whose picture I should have taken, that the only way to make color copies was on the machine with the out-of-order sign stuck to it. And if I wanted to get copies made, I would have to place an order and pick them up tomorrow. {To-mo-rrow?!?!} I resigned myself to the absurdity of it all and decided to leave. {But let’s be clear, leaving was the only choice to take}. Before walking away I asked simple-face if she knew of another place where I could get a hundred color copies made today. And she actually referred me to another Kinkos. {You should’ve seen the look on my face}.

Chinatown Top Ten

I'm off to Chinatown today! The plan: lunch at Pho with Dona Dee and a little grocery shopping--the kind that can only be done in Chinatown. Here are the top ten reasons why I like that place...

1: I’m convinced it’s really like being in China, except for the other gawking non-Asian Americans, but without the drama of flying.

2: Chinese candy…straight sugar in cool packages.

3: The price of two avocadoes is the same as two caged turtles. {Ok, so the math on this one is weird but you can’t find those adorable creatures any cheaper anywhere else in NYC. Not that I would ever actually buy one}.


4: Speaking of inexpensive, almost every item in every grocery store in Chinatown is $1.50—from tofu in its many forms to a four-pack assortment of soap that actually smells good.


5: When every Vietnamese restaurant is named Pho, it’s nearly impossible to choose poorly. {The Pho Nha Trang on Baxter is especially good}.

6: With all the foot traffic, it looks like there’s something exciting going on even when it’s not Chinese New Year.

7: Sweet rice with red bean paste is strangely yummy! And it comes in a ready-to-steam banana leaf wrap.

8: Not being able to read the billboards. {They’re all decoration to me}.

9: The street vendors sell colorful origami birds and dragons made from dried palm leaves.


10: Sucking tapioca balls through a huge straw is so much fun.

So long, Summer...

It was a slow start but summer '06 finally came...and is officially gone. Enduring temperatures of 90 degrees and above with no AC, I won't miss. But the playground will always bring back good memories of summer.

That's SIR Hayes, to you!

Has anyone seen my clothes?

Finger-lickin' Sauce

I can be completely obsessive about food. When I find a good thing, I easily fall into a rut with it. Here's the recipe for the peanut sauce I've been living off of all summer long. Please believe me when I say it goes well with nearly everything--Great over rice and vegetables/tofu, couscous, pasta, or as a salad dressing. Once, I even subbed it for pizza sauce on a vegetarian pie...{yum}! Beware, this recipe is full of intense flavor and a little goes a long way.

1/2 c vegetable broth
1/4 c chunky peanut butter (the natural kind without added sugar is best)
1/4 c low sodium soy sauce
3 tbsp brown sugar
2 tbsp rice vinegar (optional but a must for salad dressing)
2 tsp fresh peeled/grated ginger
2 tsp fresh minced garlic

Yield: a lot. Half the recipe if you're not serving more than 4 people.

The Enlightenment

So I’m the last of the Murder Mommies {the group of moms I hang with, so named because we murder mommy stereotypes in everything we do—yes, baby!} to experience the enlightenment that is Trader Joe’s. For those of you who still cannot get your mind around those $5 cartons of blueberries because afterall, the fruit is in season and the carton does not say organic {I can admit to the same disappointment as I dump two and three cartons into my grocery basket week after week}, Trader Joe’s is an honestly priced grocery store around Union Square—A block away from Whole Foods, no less. In fact, I got the idea to finally try Trader Joe’s after pacing the aisles of Whole Foods in a daze. I mean, I get the philosophy behind freshly packed, whole foods and can appreciate the ambiance associated with it, and let’s be clear, I once was a huge fan of the yuppie establishment. Trader Joe’s, on the other hand, is an entirely different experience because, well…Trader Joe’s is for the people. According to the story printed on the paper grocery bag, Joe made his fortune, and everyone else’s, by cutting out the middleman and began producing private label goods to be sold at significantly lower prices than his competitors. Hence why even their exquisite items are packaged in an unassuming everyday people kind-of-way. After braving the ridiculously long line {I’m talking go-to-the-back-of-the-store-and-stand-in-that-ridiculous-line long}, Hayes and I walked to Union Square Park to enjoy the contents of our two full grocery bags filled with goodies that I only paid $25 for. It included a big bar of dark chocolate{mom favorite}, a basket of peaches, a sack of avocados {hooray for good fat}, corn chips and Tuscany white bean dip that Hayes smeared up his nose, fresh vegetables and the best dried pineapple rings I’ve ever tasted {no sugar added}. The Trader Joe's wine store even sells $2 bottles of private label wine, for the heart healthy, of course {2-buck Chuck, they call it}. Alas, in the familiar form of corporate downsizing, illumination is here.

First Steps: Hayes's Sneaker Game

For a city girl, I’m as low maintenance as they come. Had my television not been a gift, I simply would not have one. I don’t own new or vintage clothing. I’m actually genius at reinventing what I’ve always had and working what friends bless me with so that I can still hang out and look semi-cool. And I just may very well be the last person on the planet to get high-speed internet. {I swear I still had dial-up just last week}. So every time I look in Hayes’s closet, I cannot help but wonder what’s happening. Afterall, he’s got cooler kicks than I do...And he’s only been walking for 6 months! Here’s the line up:

Two pairs Nike Baby Force 1’s low tops (adorable)
Chuck Taylor’s (always a classic)
Slip-on Vans (skulls and crossbones, of course)
Puma 10’s (size 5 from the first days on the playground. I can’t wait to pull them out when he’s a size 9).

Alright, if I’m raising a future sneaker fiend with an overly particular taste for sweet kicks, then I can only hope that one day shoes will unite the world and bring peace and happiness to all of humanity.

*Ket!

We've all heard the news by now. {No terriorist threat conversation here}. I'm talking about Travis and Shanna, the reality tv couple. Hey, I'm no relationship expert. And I only saw the show once. But they were good together. Look, even Hayes isn't taking the news well.

*Kreyol word of the day: Ket /ket/-damn!

Mama?

me...and my four-wheeled appendage.

The Playground

Month 15: Week 15: Day 7

Let’s be clear, Hayes’s deliriums rarely stretch past 1am anymore. So I’m not usually awake at 4 in the morning. But sleep, that precious commodity, has been pushed aside in these wee hours, for a little reflection on the pains of parenting, even though I’m totally pooped from pilates and a day at the playground. Here's the story:

I show up to pilates with Hayes, Stacey, a mommy-friend of mine, and her son Kimani with plans for Stacey to watch the two tots in exchange for the luxury of an hour-long private lesson. And then we switch.

We found a playground on 17th between 8th and 9th. It’s small, contained but has way too much going on in the way of crazies and potty-mouthed, weed-smoking teenagers to look after more than one fascinated-by-the-world toddler without half losing your mind. Kimani was really into everyone else’s bike and ball, which annoyed the big boys. Hayes enjoyed chasing the birds, playing a strange solitary game of catch-me-if-you-can, and shoving all kinds of dirty matter into in his mouth, which only annoyed me. {The last thing either of us needs is another public poop out.} It was hectic although I tried to appear the calm-and-in-control-mom-on-the-playground type I strive to be. However the façade didn’t last long.

The park closed before Stacey’s lesson was over. So I was left to peddle the two hungry, overtired toddlers down three city blocks with two separate strollers in my hands to meet my mommy-friend. {Nearly impossible, by the way.} One stroller folded nicely inside the other, and Hayes was comfy and semi-content being chauffered around. Kimani and I, on the other hand, were clearly not so well. Toddlers can’t pull off hungry or tired with any ease. And the combination is usually unbearable for all involved. While Kimani screamed for his mom, I tried desperately to keep some semblance of I've got it all under control-ness.

Sometimes being a parent is just painful. Amidst the jeers and stares of baby-less strangers, I thwarted refusals to hold my hand and bouts of hysteria with distraction. {Isn’t that what all the good books say to do?} I pointed out the garbage truck and motorcycles and any other bright, loud thing that caught my eye. We stopped on every block and I held him…a lot. I assured him in my best “everything’s going to be alright” voice that he would soon see his mommy. Of course nothing worked. I only half-believed it would anyway. And I can admit there was a part of me that was just playing the sane adult role for the spectacle. Afterall, there is little one can do for those whose wiring is not all connected upstairs. {referring to every toddler on the face of the earth.} I knew that only Stacey’s presence would satisfy him—so unfortunately for the both of us that meant three hot, long, excruciating blocks. {Life is soooooo unfair.} So after another day balancing work and mommyhood, pilates and that awful 17th street playground I’m the one who can't rest. {Just shoot me.} *Ket!...It’s 4:30am!

*Kreyol Word of the Day: Ket /ket/--damn! damn! damn!