Short trip, and we are back in the city already. Although it is good to be back home, this evening is a huge contrast to our quiet nights upstate, where there was nothing but silence and pitch black darkness as we went to sleep. As soon as we stepped into our apartment around 6pm, we heard party noises from down the block and a DJ blasting Lady Gaga and Rhianna from its sound system. Welcome back to Brooklyn. The kids were hyped up once we got back home too, chasing each other like banshees up and down the hall. These were the same kids that sat quiet as mice for almost an hour this morning, bird watching out on the back deck?

Our last day was spent having breakfast at an old, authentic diner called Danny’s with Mark’s dad, uncle and an old family friend. It’s never fun saying goodbye. As we drove south, clouds gathered and rain started to fall. Funny that we managed to escape the wet weather while we were away up north, even getting a little sunburned in the process, while the city still stood under clouds. On the way back we stopped for a long break at the outlet mall. Sheesh, we are so freaking American.

Day 2 began with an dubious start as Mia still complained of stomach aches and both Mark and I began to feel suspicious knots in our stomachs. After some pedialyte and a bit of toast, we ventured out. The fog eventually lifted and the sun burned rather hot. We were unprepared as we had no sunscreen on us - it was such a cloudy and wet June that we were rather unused to bringing sunscreen along. We did all get a bit red from too much sun, especially when we played a round of mini golf which left us with itchy skin, but I heard it was raining in Brooklyn again so we can’t complain. The day ended up being packed with activities: waterfall, lake, playground, antique shopping, mini golf, wineries…and finally a meal after avoiding food for much of the day.

The family is sleeping. So far so good on the stomach virus. I’m up late working as something just came in that needed my attention. Yup, business as usual.

We’re upstate right now. Had a relatively quiet 4 hr car ride this morning even though Mark and I always seem to forget to bring things to keep the kids entertained in the car, and when we do remember, we do something stupid like put the toys in the trunk where it’s not accessible to anyone. Miraculously, they both tolerated the ride well with little complaints despite having nothing to do and being awake the full 4 hours. We had lunch with Mark’s dad which was sweet being Father’s Day and all, and his uncle made us a super home cooked meal.

So Father’s Day…I guess you can say that neither Mark nor I had easy times with our fathers growing up, but now that we are adults and our fathers are older, it feels like there is an unspoken forgiveness as time passes. I still have my days, but I certainly feel like I have come to grips with certain things that allow myself to move on and focus on what’s happening now rather than dwell on things that happened in my childhood. Not surprisingly, the kids have been a real relationship saver. We have some common ground now in which we can relate and much of our relationship revolves around them. My dad is a wonderful grandfather in a way that he was not a father to us growing up. He adores them and and in the kids, have found a mutual adoration and unconditional love that may have been missing in his life for a long time. He feels needed again.

And Mark? I think you can pretty much guess that he’s a great father, and I’m even comfortable enough to admit that he’s probably the better parent of the 2 of us. But being a father has brought out facets of his personality that have been buried and dormant, like he DOES get mad! In all the years that we’ve been together, I’ve never seen him get really pissed until the kids came along. If you’re a parent, you know what I’m talking about - parenthood brings out the best AND the worst in you.

As usual, I am the last to go to bed, but being as we’re all shacked up in one hotel room, I’m turning in before midnight which is really early for me. We had a rough bedtime as Mia started complaining that her stomach ache was getting worse. She’d been saying this on and off for the past 2 days, but we just dismissed it as gas. Tonight, however, she was kicking around in bed and moaning which made it rather difficult for Claudine to get to sleep. Well, Mia threw up about a half hour ago which had us scrambling to scrub the sheets, comforter, carpet and mattress as best we could with a washcloth and soap (yeah, it was everywhere on her side of the bed). Claudine’s still asleep on the clean side of the bed wedged between 2 pillows, which means the rest of us will be crammed in one bed for tonight. I don’t expect to get a good night’s sleep. I just hope she doesn’t throw up on me.

Summer’s here in earnest, which means we try and invite ourselves to as many bbq’s as possible since we don’t have a grill of our own. We’re good company, I promise, and we can bring dessert.

Mia also got decked in the eye by a 2 year old, half the size of Claudine. This is her 3rd black eye. Actually, both kids are pretty beat up right now. Claudine has skinned knees and scabs upon old scabs because she keeps wanting to run on the sidewalk, but she also keeps falling down. The first incident a few weeks ago had her wailing for 2 hours and she didn’t want to extend her knees straight, which meant that she refused to stand up or walk, which also meant that I had to carry her everywhere for a whole day. Oddly enough, after almost 24 hours of such drama queen behavior, a rice krispy treat eaten while sitting on a lawn chair on the sidewalk that early evening (so Brooklyn) miraculously cured her. After consuming the whole thing, she got up and walked over to the other kids like nothing ever happened.

Also this weekend, Mark competed in the Brooklyn Beer Experiment with our Chocolate Stout Marshmallow. He made them into our open-faced s’mores with cherry beer infused truffles. He didn’t win, but it once proves again something about his personality that isn’t so obvious. He’s pretty competitive. Just ask anyone who has ever played board games with him.

First of all, thanks for all the well wishes on our anniversary post. Since yesterday was hectic with late night work for both of us, we didn’t do anything to celebrate except for reading through your comments, which was much appreciated (we did, however, go out for sushi tonight with the kids which put me in a food coma on the couch for the rest of the evening). Thanks also for not laughing at that 1992 photo of us (or maybe you did - guess I wouldn’t know). I almost didn’t put it up, but there’s something to be said about looking back at the way you were, plus it confused the hell out of the kids who didn’t recognize 20 yr old Mark with long hair.

me (pointing to the picture of me): “who’s that?”
them: “mommy!!”
me (pointing to Mark): “who’s that?
them: (blank stare) “uh..uh”
me: “that’s daddy”
them: “oh………..what’s wrong with Daddy’s hair? He needs to get it fixed”.

Bet you couldn’t guess how long Mark and I have known each other. It’s our 7th wedding anniversary today, but we’ve been together, more or less, for the last 17 years. Talk about things that make you feel old. Mark was actually the first person that I came across when I moved from NYC to Olympia, Washington on January 2, 1992. After 3 years of art school at the Cooper Union, I called it quits and transferred out to a little school called the Evergreen State College the day after New Years Day in 1992. I had never even set foot in Washington before, but here I was, in a new place and I didn’t know a soul. Campus was completely empty because it was still winter break so the first day was spent alone, wandering around wondering where the hell I was, until I went to the school deli and saw some tall guy with long hair who was working there. I think I bought a sandwich from him. A week later, I saw him in my music/performance classes. After 3 more years of school, graduation, a 2 year move to Portland, 3 houses, a move to NYC (where HE moved without setting foot in NYC since he was 8), 4 apartments, 2 boroughs, grad school, a wedding, 2 kids, and 1 business later, here we are.

I was going through some photos and realized that there aren’t many of us together (found another one!). I’m always the one behind the camera, but here are a few from past years (Mark is gonna kill me for putting up the first one, but hey, it was the early 90s, Seattle grunge blah blah, what did you expect us to look like?)

1992

1996

1999

2004

The last decent family photo, 2008

I’m breaking my mini blog break because I’ve been wanting to write this post for a while. I think about my mom a lot since we’ve started the business. I guess you can say she is my role model for diving into things and taking risks and chances, so of course she was the first one to encourage us to start our own business when others close by told us to play it safe. We don’t have that “best friends” kind of mother-daughter relationship like some people do, but at the end of the day, she is the person I admire the most and I know I don’t say it enough.

Sometimes when I think about how overwhelmed I am, I think about how much my mom has gone through to get to where she is and it checks me in place. She was the first in her family to come to the US in the 70s with about $500 dollars and little knowledge of English. She came to NYC alone to work as a nurse, leaving me when I was a year old (for reasons I won’t go into here). Growing up, she lived through the Korean War when she was a little girl and has early memories of walking south from Seoul to the tip of the peninsula with her family to escape the Japanese. She grew up in a poor, fatherless, broken family and endured hardships like the stuff you see in movies that she and her sisters can laugh about now (she once told me that she remembers being 3 or 4 and being left outside all night, naked in the cold by her father because she cried too much). We didn’t have the happiest family life growing up (and there were times when things tiptoed to the edge of near destruction), but she was there for us always, wanting to give us what she didn’t have. When you’re a self-absorbed teenager dealing with angst and other teenage drama that prevents you from seeing anything beyond your own little world, you sometimes don’t notice that your mother spent nights studying to finish her college degree, that somewhere along the way she switched careers and went into real estate and found herself really good at it. And when she became really successful in her company, she jumped ship and took a huge risk to start her own partnership with other colleagues right when the economy started going south. She still works 7 days a week, but like me, needs to keep busy or else her mind gets restless. This I inherited from her. What I didn’t quite inherit is the fearlessness to take chances, understanding that it might cost you in money and maybe a little self-dignity if you fail, and the confidence to never look back and have regrets. Sadly, I also didn’t inherit her pure and complete selflessness and generosity or her optimism, despite the hardships that would have knocked any person down. I am trying though, everyday.

So it’s Mother’s Day today. Mia’s been super excited about the holiday in her own hyped up way. I’m trying to remember what Mother’s Day was like for me when I was a kid. You see, when I was reunited with her here in NY when I was 3, two years after she arrived alone, I rejected her, kicking and screaming, which broke her heart. We didn’t have the easiest reunion and this is probably the very first memory that I have. Obviously, I accepted her eventually, and the one Mother’s Day that stands out in my mind was the year I turned 6 or 7. I walked to the store down the street by myself (have times changed or what?) and after some careful consideration, chose a present for her. I walked home with it clutched tight in my hand and couldn’t wait to give it to her when I got home - this little rubbery, stretchy Bugs Bunny figurine. Don’t ask me why, but it’s what I chose. And I remember her accepting it like it was the greatest gift in the world. Thanks mom.

It was today and the universe gave me a beautiful day to enjoy in NYC, part of which was spent at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens to see the cherry blossoms starting to bloom. Wish I could say it was peaceful and relaxing, but with 4 kids in tow (went with friends) it was a constant battle of making sure the kids stayed out of trouble (”Don’t pick the flower petals! They’re for looking, not for picking!” “Don’t swing that sharp stick around, it’s not a lightsaber!” “You’re walking too close to that water!” “The coins stay in the fountain!”). There were some good moments in the day, but I think I’ll just file this birthday away.

So, this wasn’t a big birthday, but it’s close and I’ve been thinking about getting older and aging. Seems like I’ve been having a lot of “how did I get here” moments lately (cue the Talking Heads). How did I get this old? Are these really my kids? I usually don’t think about it, but once in a while I’ll catch the 3 of us in the mirror and wonder how I produced 2 kids who look nothing like me. I was actually sitting in a cafe last week with Mia, my sister-in-law, her cousin and her daughter when the waitress came by wanting to ask the mom whether it was ok if the little girl had a cookie. But she hesitated and admitted that she didn’t know which one of us was the mom. Oh snap! Burn! It doesn’t matter as it did give me a laugh, but I confess that I sometimes look at the girls searching for something of myself in them.

…And one last thing before it turns midnight and another birthday passes: thanks to all who entered so far in our first anniversary giveaway. Reading those comments was seriously the only thing that took me out of the blahs that I’ve been in for the past few days. I especially loved that there were some long-time readers who delurked to leave a message (hello there). It was one of those “Look! There ARE people who read this thing!” moments. It’s nice to meet you.