Picked up some fresh cherries at the little farmers market across the street from our place. I’m glad that Claudine likes them, but I’m not particularly fond of how she eats them - taking small bites on one side till she gets to the pit, then abandoning them as she goes for another. So I get to eat half eaten cherries. I think if I had to rely on eating what the kids leave on their plates at each meal, I’d be fine. This is why I don’t really eat breakfast anymore - someone is bound to leave food behind (usually C, no surprise).

I’ve been thinking about this blog a lot the last few days. I really enjoy the space here. There is something cathartic about documenting your life, but I would be lying if I didn’t say that on rare occasions I get a wee bit weirded out that strangers know so much about our family, particularly when the kids get recognized on the street. I’ve created it, though, so I can’t complain…and I’m not. I am not such a private person, though some people who know me might think this is surprising. I don’t feel the need to guard my personal experiences so closely, and therefore have never had any qualms about sharing anything with other people if asked, whether it’s about dealing with scoliosis as a teen, or my bout with anorexia, or the miscarriage I had in between the 2 girls, or anything having to do with starting this business (though it would be nice to get a thank you email. Seriously folks, I don’t mind sharing anything, but just send a return email back with some acknowledgment that you got my email so I don’t feel like I’m writing to a void.)

This blog too, has evolved over the past year. It stands on its own and is less about supporting or marketing the business (and anyway, how boring or annoying would it be to read about the mundane details of packaging cookies all the time?). I would love it if we still kept up with posting recipes, but that’s simply not possible with the workload we have these days, which is really disappointing since the initial plan for the blog was to document our meals as much as possible. So what has the blog become? I’m not completely sure other than a space to post photographs. Look, I’m no writer and I’m an amateur photographer at best, but what I do know is that I have gotten to know a lot of people I have never met, which is both odd and cool, and from what I’m hearing, there are many of you who can relate to whatever it is I’m rambling about. Maybe you too have started a business, or you’re also working parents seeking the infamously elusive family/work balance, or you’re also raising biracial children, or maybe you’re missing NYC and this blog makes you homesick. Whatever it is, I didn’t think that when we started this blog a little over a year ago, that I would be making so many little relationships. My only hesitation at times is that I get a bit self conscious that this whole thing is one narcissistic exercise (and I’ve expressed this before), but I suppose most blogs are. So why do we blog? What is this all about anyway?

This was the sky around 8:45pm tonight (yeah, I do live across the street from Staples, which has proved useful to say the least). The strangest, brightest sky I’ve seen over NYC in a long time. It started off this eerie golden color, then shifted to orange, then pink and purple. Apparently there were really weird bumpy clouds too, but they must have been localized over Manhattan because I didn’t see it, but heard reports of people all over the city stopping, gawking at the sky and snapping up photos and uploading them all over the internet like mad.

Yesterday was a strange day, yes? But the manner in which events unfolded was fascinating. If you were on your computer yesterday afternoon around 2ish, then you know what I’m talking about. Like many of you, I learned about Michael Jackson being hospitalized on twitter when all the social networks were ablaze with chatter on rumors that he had already died. Like we were all trying to figure out what happened together. I don’t usually celebrity worship, but I had a lump in my throat when it was confirmed. I don’t remember feeling that way with any other celebrity, not even when Kurt Cobain died and I clearly remember where I was, in the recording studio at school working on a session with my class when one of our classmates came in and broke the news. This was at Evergreen in Washington, a school that Kurt used to hang around, so it was especially sobering news since it was so close to home. John F. Kennedy Jr? Jeff Buckley? Elliot Smith? Sad sad sad! And I still lament over the loss that is Jeff Buckley, so it surprised me that I felt so melancholy when I heard about Michael, considering I hadn’t really thought about him at all in years. But who doesn’t have some kind of connection to Michael Jackson? I grew up on repeats of the Jackson 5 cartoons and religiously watched their variety show in the 70s. Even my parents felt compelled to buy the Thriller album on vinyl because it’s just what everyone did when it came out regardless of whether or not you were a fan, and so the record sat there filed among the classical and Korean records, the one lonely American pop album in the collection. Like most people of my generation, he was a huge part of my childhood. I guess this is why I’ve been mostly watching the older stuff with the Jackson 5 and the Off the Wall days on YouTube and showing it to the kids. Even with knowing about his exploited, abused childhood, there’s something about watching 10 year old Michael sing and dance before the crazy fame, the accusations, the lonely and strange life, that is particularly sad.

And one more thing? What is up with people trying to make those of us mourning his death feel bad? Yes, we know that he’s been monopolizing the news when there are people being killed every day and extraordinary things are happening in Iran, but what, we can’t acknowledge his life and death, no matter what became of his life in recent years?

Wegmans, possibly the greatest supermarket.

A windy picnic by the lake with our Wegmans bounty.

Strawberry picking.

Lazyman’s strawberry shortcake: store bought Angel Food Cake, organic just-picked strawberries and whipped cream from a can. No, Mark did not want to cook while on vacation. Oh, and by the way, Mia did a blind taste test between strawberries bought at a store and the ones we picked this afternoon. She totally called the picked ones as without a doubt being more tasty because they were sweeter all the way through, whereas the store ones were only sweet on the outside and bland in the middle. So true.

Claudine learns to spell “happy”.

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.

It was a good day today. Got that design out to the client and I won’t have that hanging over my head while we’re away. Visited a friend’s new baby this morning (god how I love babies! But no no, no more babies for us). Picked Mia up from her last day of school and spent the afternoon at the nearby playground in Prospect Park watching the kids play a chasing game while the parents ruminated on the last 2 years of preschool. Although school is over, this is not really the end since most of the kids return to school for camp in a few weeks, so today didn’t feel too much different from a normal end-of-day pick up. Good, as I was not in the mood for good byes. The day ended with wine on the stoop with the neighbors, as the sun went down. Today felt like classic summer, partly because of the humidity, but mostly because it was a breezy leisurely day spent hanging out and talking. We need more days like this. June has been one crappy weather month, most of it wet, cloudy, cool or like yesterday, filled with torrential rain, but today it let up and it felt like summer.

Most of you know that I’m a designer. I split my working days 30% W&S business to 70% freelance design work (roughly on average). And although I’ve been a designer and art director for what seems like forever, it has never been something that I truly and absolutely loved. I am not one of those graphic designers who love love love to design (and there are quite a few designer friends who fit this description quite well). If you were to ask me then, what it is I love to do, I wouldn’t be able to give you a definitive answer. I think that this has always been my “problem”. I never could commit to a major in art school and so I floated aimlessly around for 3 years before I finally decided that it was enough. Interestingly, when I went back to college to study music, I was focused again and prolific and excited like my high school days making art. My family and friends didn’t understand why I left art school (and my parents never took an interest in any of my music stuff), but what they may never truly understand is that if I had stayed, I may have never regained any inspiration or motivation to do something creative again. So to me, there is great irony in the fact that I make a living doing something that I actively avoided while in school - graphic design.

Although I did have many solid years of fine art education, I guess you can say that like Mark, who never went to culinary school, I learned how to design on the job and from mentors. I first learned about typography from a job in the beauty industry when I moved back to NY. My creative director boss was a real kook - emotional, irrational, disorganized, impulsive, tardy, but super stylish and immensely talented. When I applied for the job, I knew nearly nothing, but she took me in on a risk and we would sit together and work on layouts and type for cosmetic and perfume clients. She once frantically told me that I had to board a plane to Paris in 2 hours and take her place at meetings because she had been feverishly looking for her lost passport that morning and couldn’t find it. At times her impulsive nature terrified me (no, I didn’t go to Paris that day) and on one particularly emotional afternoon, she quite suddenly quit. My new boss, a copywriter, was the opposite of my former boss - older, level-headed, petite, shortly cropped silver hair, usually dressed in black suits with custom made ballet flats, arms dressed in multiple chunky bangles, and always a fabulous Chanel handbag. She could probably make any kid cry with just one look as she was very severe looking and no nonsense in personality, but she was also very generous, endearing and we developed a great friendship. So why am I remembering these people from my past? I’ve been struggling with a design that I’m working on for a client (hello design angst!) and it made me think about the origins of my design journey and how I ended up here. Even after having spent a few years at that company, I realized that I didn’t possess a strong passion for graphic design, so I left and went to grad school at NYU to study art and technology (or however you want to describe the program that is ITP). I saw it as a chance to do something different, but you know what? After I graduated (and this was when the web really exploded) I just ended up designing for a different medium - the web. So here I am, still plotting my escape from graphic design 9 years later.

Many years ago I realized something about myself that was interesting. I was a really focused kid in high school and spent all of my time painting, drawing, sewing and playing music. But that summer before college I had a breakdown and suffered through a short term eating disorder (yeah, that’s a post for another day). I had worked really hard for nearly 2 years to compete for scholarships and so when I had achieved all those goals and got into one of the best art schools in the country, I was suddenly left with nothing to do. Being a goal oriented person, I didn’t deal with that well. When I recovered and went to college, my interest in making art just disappeared. I think this is why I couldn’t focus while I was in school. I STILL haven’t painted anything since I left Cooper almost 17 years ago. Sometimes I will draw, but there is no real desire or inspiration to draw with any regular frequency. I am not one of those “I carry my sketch book wherever I go” type of person. I don’t have this compelling need to make art. It is rather strange, no? - considering how I spent the first part of my life drawing all the time? So I am still trying to figure that one out. Trying to figure out what it is I want to do. Trying to figure out what I like to do and what makes me creatively satisfied, but excited. Despite working on some very interesting, high profile projects with big clients, I know that it is not this…but, what then?

I know Mark hasn’t posted any recipes lately. There just simply isn’t any time. Not to say that he hasn’t been cooking dinner every night because he has, but business has been steadily busy since, well, Christmas, and there hasn’t been a lot of downtime for him in the evenings which is when he used to write recipe posts. We just ate a delicious dinner last night of sesame beef with red pepper, for example, but we scarfed that down too fast to take a photo, and let’s face it…sometimes you just want to eat. The kids used to complain and protest when they were too hungry to wait as I sabotaged our dinners to take photos, but lately I’ve been too lazy to go set up a spread and style some food shots (yeah, we’re a bit weary, can you tell?).

But here are a few simple photos from recent dinners: cold soba noodles in broth with wasabi sesame seeds, some marinated and crispy fried tofu (which Claudine miraculously ate!), and a Thai noodle dish concoction with homemade meatballs.

So I almost forgot that we are going away for a few days next week. Couldn’t come at a better time. We’re both a bit stressed from clients (me) and Father’s Day orders (mostly him, though I have been making gift boxes galore the last few nights). I can tell that I’m stressed because I am eating endless pieces of leftover broken brittle as a nervous habit (this has to stop! I’m going to the dentist in 2 weeks!). So we are totally looking forward to closing up shop and running away from cookies and clients for 4 days. But not to worry, I will still be here as my computer is practically attached to my lap. And besides, what else are we supposed to do in a shared hotel room with the kids as they are (hopefully) sleeping from 8:30pm and onwards? Can’t turn on the TV. Can’t talk too loudly. Can’t leave the room. Yup, like I said, I’ll be here.