A Printable Press The Blog

Zoo shots

2013-03-05T08:00:00.000-05:00

Baboon butt, paintings by sea lions and porcupines, meerkat alertness, sea lion training, feeling cold. Continuing to have fun with my new camera. These aren't much or terribly original, but animals are always a good time, and this is the first time I've been able to capture one of the sea lions in action! They are one of the few creatures who have fun the way we do—not just to practice their hunting skills, not just something they grow out of, not just instinctually chasing the laser light, but doing something "just because". Like chasing and retrieving frisbees! Painting! The Prospect Park Zoo is only about 1 long block away from us through the park, we go like every two weeks. August refuses to learn the world "seals", since all he sees are sea lions. He gets furious with us when we say seals at all.

I'll learn 'im when he's older.

Watercolor and boarding the bandwagon

2013-03-04T09:47:00.000-05:00

What I've been up to—lots of thinking, and lots of watercoloring. Here's what I've been feeling—conflicted.

A while ago I came across the sun prints of Anna Atkins made of British ferns, published in 1843. I wrote about her here. Ever since then I've been wanting to make watercolors of ferns (since I'm not much of a sun print type), but have been busy with the business/baby/life trilogy. I've finally found the time to fiddle with watercolor, and am discovering that these new designs look an awful lot like a lot of stationery and illustrations out there. Hand-painted artwork is very trendy right now, artwork informed by old illustrations and vintage-y colors. So these designs will look very much, or ARE very much, like I'm jumping on the bandwagon.

The current message sent out to all designers is to be true to your own vision and nurture your original look. But to be honest I don't really have one. Trained as a children's book designer, I was trained to be at the service of a narrative—to create designs that brought out other people's work, where the designer is and should be essentially invisible. It's all about the story, it's not about you.

Now as a stationery designer (and still book designer, designing 2 right now, how do I think I have the time for this...) I find that although I do have a specific perspective, I do not have a single unified look. I'm swept away by too many things. And I want to share these things with people. In a way, I feel that my design skills should be at the service of those looking for unique stationery that could still be within their budget.

So, about this bandwagon thing. I feel bad about creating things that will smack of other people's work, even if I'd had it in mind for years. But when custom artwork is out of most people's grasp, is it such a bad thing to find a way to give it to them? Especially if you happen to have a background in watercolor?

What does it mean to feel in service to customers rather than your own "style"? It's not the motto out there. If you're a small business you are not supposed to be talking about money or sales, you are supposed to be true to yourself and stick to your guns.

I guess I'm not on that bandwagon. I guess I think that mindset is its own bandwagon. A good one, one that everyone should aspire to! But I simply don't have a singular design style. If "eclectic" is the word of the day for interiors, can't it be that way for design as well? I design with other people in mind, I design things to make people happy. Design is at the service of others, to be used and loved. It's not art, and THAT'S OKAY.

I'll talk about my artwork some other time!

Some pics from last weekend at the cabin

2013-02-22T09:56:00.000-05:00

It was 47 degrees when I got there Saturday afternoon, and nary a frozen drop of water was to be found. Kinda disheartening in mid-February. But then the cold snap snapped that night, and by the next morning I discovered just how ice forms in the creek. I always assumed a thin skim of ice would creep out from the shores where the water eddies in pools, and then layer by layer it would thicken into those giant slabs. But when I went down to refill my water jugs (we turn off the water in winter and just filter creek or streamlet water) I discovered that those big shelves of ice were in fact thousands of tiny shards, smushed together in a clear slushy mix. I suppose they gather and pack together and then the water in between the shards, trapped and still, then freezes the whole thing together.

It's amazing to continuously discover the little acts of the world around you. One time when I was out camping with my dad there was a cold front that blew through during the night, like the one this last weekend. In the morning I exited my tent with my breath going out in poofy white gusts, which is always fun because you can pretend you're smoking, or steaming like a dragon. I went to pick up my water bottle, which was just a repurposed liter coke bottle [a camping hint if you're hiking very far—soda bottles are much lighter than any canteens they sell in stores, and BPA's only gather in the liquid if it's been in there for a while]. Anyway, I picked it up to take a swig, but as soon as I touched it there was a krrak and the clear water suddenly froze into shards of ice! It was like a film trick. My dad, an ex-physicist, explained that that was supercooling, which happens under very specific conditions. Despite a hiking career of 50+ years he had never seen it before.

Little moments like that, where you get startled by a new understanding... I don't have a phrase for it. I considered writing "that's what life is all about", but that is intensely stupid. Life is about many things. I guess it's just a joy of learning constantly. And of being outside a lot. Who knew I would get so excited about ice!

The last two photos of what I got a craving for—that's right, FRITO PIE. Do you know it? Fritos topped by chili topped by cheese and whatever else you want. Do you like how I made a side salad to assuage my guilt?

The pic says it all!

2013-02-21T09:21:00.001-05:00

We are doing a $100 giveaway with A Practical Wedding! Just write a comment to enter [EDIT: I meant to say, go to A Practical wedding and write a comment to enter the giveaway—my bad!], and a winner will be chosen at the end of the week.

It's weird to write a post that's strictly bidness, which goes to show just how non-bidness my brain is!

Some recent Instagram pics

2013-02-18T08:13:00.000-05:00

Everyone waking up from nap, Moke having slept on my chest

Stained glass in the roof of the Oriental Pavilion (I know, •groan•) in Prospect Park

Snowdrops getting a little ahead of themselves

Misty snow across the way, spangled by park lamps like the lamp in the middle of Narnia's woods that grew from a tossed crossbar. It's like it seeded and they are spreading.

Despite loving my new camera, which is aces, I still love using Instagram...

I guess the sucky has to happen too...

2013-02-14T08:58:00.000-05:00

Do any of you know the Curious George story where he puts the wrong soap in the dishwasher? I wasn't looking and dumped in regular liquid soap. Afternoon wasted cleaning out gallons of suds.
And what an awesome thing to discover when you go to move your car. I'm betting it was sideswiped by an aggressive NYC snowplow. SIGH. This is on top of having a cold for 2 weeks and now potential pink-eye. The joys of motherhood.Rargh.But maybe I could also tag this as being a not so bad part of being a freelancer, that at least you discover these things early. And they're both resolved, or will be soon. Silver lining, right? Right?Maybe I'll just let myself be crabby.

Fun in the sunny snow

2013-02-13T08:52:00.000-05:00

Cookie sheet sleds, a city and park transformed, three Akitas who looked like they were about to go on a sled, successful mitten-wearing, and only one tearful moment over the fact that there weren't any ducks.

As many of you know, this past weekend in the northeast was a mixture of foreboding fear ("Snowstorm of the century is coming!") to joyous celebration (NYC just had a pristine fluffy foot of snow, perfect for sledding!). I feel for you, Massachusetts and Long Island, that you got so hammered...

For the first time we were able to convince August to wear his mittens, which made all the difference. The previous time we'd taken him out in the snow he refused to wear them and unsurprisingly his hands became icicles, which he held out and cried to us piteously, "Hurt! Hurt". It was both pathetic and infuriating.

So being able to watch him experience snow with joy was a wonderful thing, and in a way it felt like an inauguration. His first time enjoying snow. You know, throwing it up in the air and watching it sparkle (it was fine dry snow), tasting it, smacking branches to watch it patter down, and of course sledding. When we went out the everything was still at that magical point of a city transformed, the buildings a geometric backdrop to the soft lines of pure white, the trees graphic linear elements with branches framing bright blue sky in black and white. Lacy. Everything felt lacy.

We haven't gotten August a sled yet so Paul suggested we make one out of a cookie sheet, harking back to his childhood in Texas, where it was never worth buying a sled but also never worth missing out on the rare snowfull and a good swoop down a hill. I discovered my cookie sheets have holes in one end, I suppose for potentially hanging on a hook. Who would hang a cookie sheet on a wall?? But the holes were perfect for attaching twine pulls which we used to haul around August and his best friend in the building Leo.

August was fearless, as he often is in front of Leo, like he's showing off. Look Leo, check me out! Leo is happy to gaze on in admiration. This isn't just me saying it, his parents say it too and laugh. There was much "Ageh? Ageh? AGEH!!" from August which equals "Again".

We are so lucky to live across from such a park as this, one often reviewed as one of the loveliest in the country. And doubly lucky that it is our entire view, because from here we can still see pristine snow fading off up the hill into the woodsy part, where no one has walked. Untrammeled snow is one of the most beautiful views in life.

A belated wish to all of you that you hopefully went through the snowstorm safe and warm, with no power outages or stuck cars! And for those not in the northeast, that you are enjoying fine weather and t-shirts.

Kimi

DIY Matchbook Valentine!

2013-02-06T13:07:00.000-05:00

I recently came across some vintage matchbooks and discovered I missed those jars at the bar filled with little packages of great design. Remember those? Do any bars or restaurants still have those?

So I in collaboration with A Practical Wedding I made these sassy Valentine's Day printables for you, to indulge in a little nostalgia and a little lovin'. Find the full post here at A Practical Wedding, or download the PDF directly here. You can customize them to say anything you want, whether sweet-as-pie, or sexy-veering-on-dirty. Make them into a simple card, a note attached to their gift, or a coupon book which is a gift itself. Get sassy with it.

My dad got the same camera as me

2013-02-04T10:37:00.004-05:00

And is a much better photographer than I am.

August does not have football shoulders, his shirt is pushed up in back. But his hair is that goofy, sometimes even goofier. When it's at its most mussed and all sticky-uppy we call it "frowsty", a word borrowed from The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. It's used to describe the children after they slept poorly in a cave and emerge all blinky into the sunlight. They looked frowsty. Isn't that an amazing word? Frowsty!

Oh and "all sticky-uppy" is taken from a Doctor Who episode—an old coot, trying to describe David Tennant's hairstyle (last doctor before current Matt Smith), says "He's got one of those modern hairdos, you know, all sticky-uppy". Or something like that.

Can you tell what highly intellectual and refined media tastes I have?

Superbowl Sunday!

2013-02-04T10:04:00.000-05:00

My boys, chowin' down during kickoff. The photos are awful, I was too engaged to try and get better shots. What a game! Despite the boring half hour of black out and the fact that we're not wed to either team, the Superbowl is inevitably a drama and battle of epic proportions. Like spartans all over again. But I'm going to explain a little later on how we also feel bad about watching. But I'm also first going to explain why it was so awesome.

We made what a friend called "gourmet junk food", but when it's that bad for you I think it doesn't deserve the gourmet appellation. But it does deserve the label "sinfully delicious". I made double-fried korean chicken wings and asian cole slaw, Paul made double-fried tostones (plantains) salted to high heaven (or hell?), and shockingly August ate it all. Well, not the cole slaw. We gave him pickles to make sure he had his incredibly unhealthy salt quota required for the Superbowl.

We sat down at our little tables and pigged out and kept August engaged by yelling, "Look! He's throwing the ball! Oh, look, he caught it! Oh nooooo, he fell down!". August seemed a little dubious of our play-by-play, but happily joined in since his parents were yelling which meant he could yell too.

Now the explication of guilt.

Paul, being a Texan and general All-American Boy, was always a football fan. Not the kind who has to wear a lucky jersey anytime his favorite team played, and in fact he didn't have a favorite team, but the kind to still shout with joy at any exciting play. But in recent years there has been exposé after exposé showing the nigh-inevitable brain damage caused by football, from high school onwards. And the lack of care given to ex-pros, abandoned by the NFL and any thought of health insurance. There is horror in the sight of what happens so many ex-players. It's a little, just a little, like seeing war veterans abandoned by their army.

But oh, even I can't escape the guilty pleasure of the Superbowl. The pageantry, the war-like athleticism, the emotions, the coaches who always look like they're going to have an aneurysm mid-game. And the COMMERCIALS and their unbelievable production values! And good grief was Beyoncé hot last night.

I hope one day that the hysteria over the World Cup takes over the United States at some point, with just as many traditions of fried food and high-production value commercials and hot ladies singing at halftime. Or it doesn't have to be a sports event—let's make mid-term elections an event! Bust out the deep fryer for the traditional korean fried chicken wings!

Because I just can't give up the Superbowl. Man, it's like being addicted to war movies.

This Irish wedding makes me happy for surprising reasons

2013-01-29T12:36:00.003-05:00

I don't normally post about past (or present) customers, but one thing that always tickles me pink is when we hear from an overseas bride or groom. We don't ship printed cards yet, but lots of couples have used our designs and just printed in their own country. A frequent lament we hear is "All the stationery over here sucks!". For them, 'sucks' generally means boring or traditional.

It feels kinda weird writing about a customer... I normally don't, I normally write about whatever fiddly things are going on in my brain. But today the fiddly things are how it truly is amazing to hear that you have helped someone. Sure, you've helped them through a commercial interaction—but is that not valid? Against some of my own fears and guilts, it seems like it is indeed valid.

I started A Printable Press during the beginning of the recession, to help out other people, and of course to earn a living for myself as well. Or rather, I didn't know it would be a living, I thought it would just be a little something on the side. That little side project turned into a full-time company in a flash, like a knock you over flash. Because, as it turned out, so many people wanted good design in a way they could afford. Not just wanted, but kind of needed.

I have had nigh-breakdowns about wanting to earn a living by doing good in the world, and feeling that I had fallen into a dreaded industry that convinces people they need to spend tons of money on a single day. That I was complicit in the era of making people think they need something, even if it racks up credit card debt.

But I am finally, finally, coming to believe that I am providing a service. A nice service, like nice as in being a nice person, doing nice things for people. Are pretty wedding invitations necessary to a wedding? No. You can email or do an online thing, or even call people or send a hand-written note. But people seem to have an inborn desire for prettiness, and an inborn eye for it too. People do not want to have to buy their stationery from Costco. And not everyone is a designer and can make all things by hand. Or have design programs.

It's not just a modern industry. The wealthy used to have calligraphers do each invitation by hand, gild the edges in fact (was it real gilding? I just realized that I don't know! What if it was! Holy crap). And have some guy in livery hand-deliver it, and then another guy would hop in their horse and carriage and return a hand-written reply. And you know what? These days, it's not just for those who can afford gilding.

I *think* I might actually and truly be doing something nice for the world. It's something other people have been trying to convince me of for 3 years, that I had accomplished that goal. Somehow, for some reason, it is today that I truly believe it.

Anyway, all of these fiddly thoughts came about because I received a note from a Facebook reader about their wedding in Ireland. Their location was the Royce estate, as in Rolls Royce, and Jo was kind enough to send a couple of pics.

Now, with that much gorgeousity, they are probably not in dire financial straits. But I bet they can't afford gilding either. And they certainly didn't like any of the stationery they found in Ireland. We made someone happy, happy to the point where she wanted to let us know about it. That we helped make things just a little more special.

Thank you Jo. You don't know it, but you pushed me over the hill of "Am I doing any good in the world?" to help me run down the other side into the fields of "I am making people happy!".

Xoxo to Jo,
Kimi

"Food" setting on Sony RX100

2013-01-25T12:18:00.004-05:00

No, I didn't make this, it was for a family gathering. Yum!

New camera, so in love

2013-01-25T11:14:00.000-05:00

I am not the best photographer (or not a photographer at all really) but have been needing something with a halfway decent autofocus and depth of field, for product shots. I was well aware that I needed some kind of small low-end SLR, but also that I would never ever lug around one. It would sit on a tripod waiting to photograph stationery. Sad little camera...

But then I read this review on the NY Times by David Pogue whose title was "Tiny Camera to Rival the Pros", and whose first line was "This is a review of the best pocket camera ever made".

Now, these photos were snapped quickly, in late winter afternoon, with no manual nuthin', even though the camera is packed with the ability to do everything including manually focus with a for real old fashioned RING on the lens and not some stupid button, and it can probably start your car from afar or something.

I am not the best photographer. But. I have finally gotten that delicious covet-worthy depth of field.

More pictures to come as I figure out more settings, these could use more contrast and color.

Oh, and this is at the Prospect Park Zoo's feeding area which is about a block away from us. August's favorites are the goats. Mine are the "Babydoll Sheep", which unlike their names have a deep "Baa." With a period at the end. The first time I heard them I literally thought there was some tall dude mocking them, going "Baa", trying to make them say it back. No vibrato. Just "Baa" like they're just pretending to be sheep and trying to get away with it.

Maybe they sneak out at night and hang out on street corners smoking and whistling at the ladies, but when they turn around they're all like "What? Us? We're innocent sheep, we don't know how to talk! See listen—Baaaaaa."

New designs and giveaway at OnceWed!

2013-01-22T08:35:00.001-05:00

I have been radio silent this past week, because I have been working my arse off to complete full suites for 5 new designs! Here are 3 of them:

The designs are a part of a new collection called "Hand Drawn" and there are more to come.

PLUS, for any of you who are getting married or know someone who is, we are doing a giveaway in partnership with the blog OnceWed. Two winners (picked at random, don't stress about your entries) will each receive $250 worth of stationery. You can enter here.

More pics to come. I need some z's.

It may not be snowy in Brooklyn...

2013-01-14T09:58:00.001-05:00

On personal limitations

2013-01-10T09:31:00.000-05:00

I remember the exact conversation I had when I thoroughly learned my limits. I'd say I remember the exact day, but I am terrible with dates. It was in March of ~~1992~~ [CRAP I MEAN 2002] though.

I was planning a solo hiking trip to the Pyrenees mountain range between Spain and France for my 30th birthday, and was nervous about doing it in spring when there might still be snow. I knew my friend Trevor had traveled there, going from mountain house to mountain house sharing wine with whoever he found there. I hit him up for information, and the conversation ended up making me feel like utter crap. His confident blasé attitude about life, his belief that one could simply go with whatever came along, started making me jittery and shivery with shame at myself for fearing negative possibilities.

Me: What if it snows?
Trev: Then go skiing!

Me: What if the mountain house I reach is full?
T: Sleep on the floor!

Me: What if it's really cold? I don't know if I can carry a heavy sub-zero sleeping bag up and down mountains.
T, raising an eyebrow: Stay at a hostel.

Me: I hate hostels, I'm too old for that...
T, frowning in slight bafflement: What are you doing?

Me: What?

He said, "You're coming back to each thing I say with all these reasons you can't do something. You're totally boxing yourself in. Wall wall wall," and held his hands up to show a cube. A cube he felt I had trapped myself in.

I felt like complete shit. I thought, "He's right. I trap myself with negative thinking and make myself jittery. I could be so much more kickass. Why am I so jittery?"

I pondered it all day and felt like shit all day. Then sometime late at night it hit me:
I'm not Trevor.
And that's ok.

I have some friends, and read about many others, who stride forward through life nigh-fearlessly like the prow of a ship cutting through the fierce and cold Atlantic waves. I love them and often think, "What would Trevor do? What would Greg do? What would that guy who cut off his own arm in the desert do?"

It's heartening and inspiring to know there are people out there like that, and sometimes I can emulate it a little when I stop and think "What would Trev/Greg/Ben Franklin/Maira Kalman do?" But I cannot remake myself into someone like them.

I have limits. Back then, like many super confident people, Trevor just couldn't imagine having some tiny anxiety get out of proportion and hunch your shoulders for no reason. It simply didn't HAPPEN to him! He is constitutionally different from me. Hear that? Constitutionally different. If you're saying No, that's not true, anyone can become unstoppably confident, then you are constitutionally different from me. That is wonderful for you, I am truly happy for you and glad that people like you exist in the world, to push back at the world and carve a path for the rest of us! I am grateful for your existence. But truly—people are made differently.

I have limits and I'm not going to kill myself trying to remake myself. I'll do what I can and instead think of Frida Kahlo lying in bed painting, and Charles Darwin who had so much pain later in life that he could only write for 3 hours a day. I will accept my limitations and do what I can. I will NOT compare myself to those who are from their spine out to their skin different from me. So, take THAT guilt, IN YO' FACE.

The next day I called up my brother and asked if he wanted to go to the Pyrenees with me. We celebrated my 30th birthday on the top of a mountain with some bread and cheese and wine. He got altitude sickness. I went on to do many other solo hikes (which I'd done before), though only in North America in clement weather. I doubt I'll ever solo hike in another continent. And that, my friends, causes me no guilt whatsoever.

Hilarious coda? A few years later Trevor had his own 30th birthday up at a farm in summertime, and a bunch of us stayed for the weekend. There were bonfires and beer at 11 in the morning, and aerobeds that went fssssst in the middle of the night so that we ended up on the floor. And there was a pond in a field with lots of underwater grasses and soft mud, and a dark center where who knows what lurked. I've never had much fear of water or leeches, so I put my beer down and in my shirt and shorts waded in and swam about. The bottom was squishy but further out was perfectly fine.

Trevor laughed, some other guy thought I was crazy (why? what in heck could happen to me?). And at dinner that night Trevor said, "You know, whenever I think of someone adventurous you're the first person I think of."

Say what?? Of course he had no recollection of the conversation a few years before, but still. I was shocked. People get so overwhelmed at the thought of girls hiking alone or diving into a pond alone, they get more impressed than I think they should.

And then it hit me—when it comes to solo hiking under circumstances I'm fairly familiar with (English-speaking people, warm weather), I don't get jittery. I am constitutionally fine with solo hiking. Just the way I'm built.

If you feel crappy that you don't have the courage to solo hike, if you feel like I'm cooler than you, don't. Do you know how many things I can't bring myself to do? Like make a dentist appointment? Keep up an exercise routine? Read a history book? Get pregnant and have a baby with joy rather than terrible soul-burning feelings of ambiguity "maybe I shouldn't have done this"? Then you overwhelm me.

Be fine with fear. Be fine with having an anxiety disorder. Brush off people who are so constitutionally confident that they make you feel like crap. Be awesome within your limits, because you are awesome.

On Ben Franklin's schedule

2013-01-10T08:45:00.003-05:00

This is Benjamin Franklin's daily time table, or perhaps it qualifies as a "was", but since it still exists as an image, perhaps "it" is still an "is"? Ah the metaphysical conundrum of reproduced materials still floating about in the modern world.

Anyway.

I came across this exacting schedule quite some time ago, and was thinking about it recently in the glut of New Year's Resolutions blogposts I've read out there. Isn't it inspiring? Isn't it something you want to grab onto and emulate, engrave into your brain? Why yes!

And then the guilt sets in. Why doesn't my own life feel as organized and full of deeds? Look at his beginning and ending questions on the left, be inspired, and then a week later after your resolution has dissolved a bit feel guilty or re-energized. It depends on who you are. And why can we/I not always be like this?

HERE'S WHY: because I simply don't have the mental constitution that he did. He invented from dawn to dusk and pondered, and wrote, and probably buzzed around like the Energizer bunny straight up until his deathbed. Some people are like that. Some people just aren't. He was a genius inventor-writer-selfmade-man, and despite all my fierce resolve and good intentions, I cannot remake myself into that.

I'm just not him. I get tired fairly easily and get anxious quite frequently. I have temporal lobe epilepsy (not as bad as it sounds! and almost fully under control) which either causes some jitteryness or jitteryness can set off the epilepsy (I repeat, it's not that bad anymore). And, to be honest, I'm just not a powerhouse genius go-getter. This does not mean I am a lazy bed-ridden bonbon-eating mom! I am limited, and after decades of pushing my boundaries and my health I have found my boundaries and accept them. Well, I still push at them a little, which is why I still get jittery, but I don't push myself into a seizure and I get a lot done.

Hey Ben—that's right, I'm talking to you! Did you cook for yourself? Did you clean the house? Did you pick up your children from daycare and clean their butts? Maybe you did. But I doubt it. You were a strong, energy-filled genius and I envy that. But I'm pretty cool too. Even though I am not able to accomplish your brilliant morning and evening questions.

Here is the question I would like to ask myself in the morning: what act of magic shall I do today? (that takes some explanation which I'll do next time)

And here is the question I would like to ask myself in the morning: what act of magic did I do today?

And here is the sentence I will tell myself: it is okay if you did nothing but watch tv all day and take care of yourself, if that is what you needed to do. Take care of yourself. Live your life. You are not Ben Franklin, and that's that. Do your own thing.

I like TV. Currently the british show The Misfits.

Resolutions past

2013-01-08T07:30:00.000-05:00

I love new year's resolutions, love 'em. But that's because I make a big list of things that are either continuing things or small attempts that are reasonably doable. And I never hate myself for things I didn't accomplish. Because the big things, the truly big things, don't need to be written down. They are things I need to work on every day, and hopefully will.

Here is last year's list, which we kept up on the kitchen bulletin board. There are three kinds of marks to indicate what we accomplished, or didn't—lines crossed through mean we did it, X's mean it turned out to not be a good idea, and sad faces are the things we didn't do that we wish we'd done.

The things I'm happiest we got to cross out:
—Started learning spanish with August
—Maintained friendships and cemented new ones
—Actually got to the ocean quite a lot
—Kept about 80% of Sundays internet-free! The hardest thing was remembering not to look up weather on my iphone. I literally had to call people instead.

Our two sad faces:
—Didn't make it to the Morgan Library or the Natural History Museum

The thing that wasn't possible that I'm most sad about:
—Car-camping just wasn't a good idea with a baby who really only naps in a crib (still).

Biggest resolutions for 2013:
—Treat ourselves to more nights out!
—Go to D.C. in April to visit one of our best friends (plus Paul and August have never been)

Yeah. Totally doable.

I have bigger resolutions, scarier ones, that I am trying to engrave into my heart. You know those, the ones you try to do each year, the ones that involve true change, a tectonic shift in your life or even in your moral fiber. But you know what? Constant change and progression is worth striving for.

Maurice Sendak, I miss you

2013-01-07T10:26:00.005-05:00

Just watch the video. Tears are still ambling down my face, isn't that ridiculous? When did I get so emotional??

He says he is in love with life. He says he is comfortable being an atheist but also just kinda feels that he will meet his brother again, who passed away some time ago. He says he will cry his way to the grave missing people. He says he is in love with life.

Oh and I believe I will cry my way to my grave as well, hopefully both with loss and with joy—this video did both.

Oh, just watch it.

Brought to my attention via Swiss Miss

August's book for 2012

2013-01-07T08:30:00.000-05:00

I have begun a tradition of making a book about August for his grandparents as their annual Christmas gift—the results were so fun I wish I could do it for everyone! How long will August let me get away with this? I'm hoping at least until he's ten.

This year's book is a nautical adventure: one day August is bored bored bored, when a ship magically floats into his room and whisks him off to the high seas. He greets things, survives a storm, and returns home all tuckered out to finally fall asleep. This was written in part to read to him, I thought that was a brilliant idea... but he just looks at the photos of himself with a completely baffled, if not slightly spooked, expression. Ah well.

We did a photo shoot of him on our bed (same as last year) with a sheet behind him to simplify the background, and then Paul hopped around waving things to get August to smile and jump. I then constructed a story around the best photos of him and came up with this sailing tale.

Out came the pencils and paper, eee-rrrrr went the scanner, mmmm went photoshop, whoosh went the PDF to blurb.com, and finally bzzzzzt went our doorbell when the books arrived. Thanks you blurb.com for the wonderful printing!

If for any reason you want to see the whole thing, you can preview it here.

Our New Year's Day

2013-01-04T08:30:00.000-05:00

A lavish Japanese new year's meal hosted by my mom, with like 15 symbolic dishes. My favorite quote from my mom: "The prawns are symbolic for old people!"

August waited so patiently for food to be served...

Our New Year's Eve

2013-01-03T08:00:00.000-05:00

What do you do when you are parents whose kid goes to sleep at 7:30? Invite friends over who don't have kids and cook a lavish meal while imbibing wine, champagne, and coffee to stay awake. While keeping the baby monitor on and suddenly having to drunkenly say "Shhhhhh!"and pause for a minute until the whimpering in the nursery has stopped. And then crank it up again!

In the afternoon we had friends over who live in the building and all had salmon lox on pumpernickel while everyone's kids ran amok. Then our dear friend Jason made us a four-course meal, with three kinds of homemade pizzas! Or was it a five-course meal? There was the lox, the salad, and then the pizzas were finished one by one... So yes, that sort of comes to five. We watched the "Doctor Who Christmas Special" and the movie "Looper" while laying on an aerobed in front of the television. Delicious.

When we heard the fireworks going off we paused the movie and scrambled out the window onto the fire escape. We have a view of the northern end of the park where they have the annual brooklyn fireworks show, and went "Ooo!" and "Aaa!" despite ourselves. Does this happen to you too? No matter what your age?

Ah, that was a lovely New Year's Eve. I hope yours was as well whether at a raging party or in your jammies at home.

A Christmas gift to myself

2013-01-02T10:01:00.000-05:00

Organizers for the kitchen spice/knife drawer and the random stuff drawer (known pre-baby as the f*ck-it drawer, and I know we're not the only ones who have one)

Hello, I totally didn't mean to take a vacation last week, but quickly discovered that if your toddler and hubby are home all week, and you work at home, then no matter what your intentions... you ain't gonna get much work done. That's right, I said ain't. We instead played, tootled around the city, had friends over, and got completely exhausted by August's inexhaustibleness. That's right, I said inexhaustibleness. Why is it that mommy and daddy are the first ones who have to say, "No no, Mommy's tired, no more dancing right now..."

Where does he even get the muscular strength to keep up a marathon of running and games?? Does his fat give him the energy, like a perpetual stash of sugar and carbohydrates he can burn at will??

In the meantime, no matter how much money I've spent on gifts for others I inevitably end up purchasing something for myself once the gift-giving is over. This year—a solution to the spice drawer and f*ck-it drawer in the kitchen! All thanks to Ikea. There's no way the spice labels will remain in such pristine condition, but I'm fine with that.

And, of course, not all my spices fit in there so there are two little racks on the way that will screw into a cabinet door. I mean, it's not like I need fennel seed all the time, but when all of a sudden a recipe calls for it and if you don't have it at 6pm you are totally screwed.

Happy New Year!

2013-01-02T09:33:00.002-05:00

2012-12-25T07:00:00.000-05:00

Joy and magic to you, may your Christmas be merry and bright!
xo
Kimi