Weekend Adventures

Weekends during the winter are challenging as the boys get more boyish. On this Saturday morning, we hit Club 4 Kidz, where we met the Karshan girls for fun indoor play… 

…then went to Remy's apartment in Greenpoint for oyster shucking...

…and pizza making…

On Sunday, Mack and I hit a sports bar in the lower east side (two actually, as we got thrown out of Hair of the Dog because the place wouldn't allow kids, then went to 1 and 1) where we met Law and Mendel for fantasy football playoffs (i.e., watch 10 football games at once). Law has a fantastic way with Mack -- the two are sensitive guys who are prone to fighting and over-emotional outbursts. Law also used Mack as a tool for meeting the ladies.

Finally, Mack and I went to Katz's deli for pastramis and brisket sandwiches to go. Mack kept on pointing to the hanging salamis ("yeah, those, Mack... are…hanging…umm.. delicious…meat…"), while simultaneously demanding more pickles.

Schoooool

Aunt Margot who visited last week asked me to record Mack saying "School." It is the sweetest thing.

Nap

Nate fell asleep while watching a movie on this bitterly cold and blustering Sunday -- a first time for this. It's a beautiful thing -- to drift off warm and cozy on a cold afternoon. We wish him many more. 

Mack: "Hi Mommy. Hi Nate."

"Hi Mommy.  Hi Nate."

Group shot

It's rare we're able to take a group family photo. So here we are.

Exit the crib

This morning Mack jumped out of his crib. Nobody seems to know how this happened, including Mack. There was the usual “I’m up” cries, then a real pain cry which seemed to get closer and closer and then there was Mack in our room. Crying.

We have no idea how he did it or if he’ll do it again. The whole thing is one big mystery because all those involved don’t seem to know either. Nate claims he was adjusting his pillow when Mack “hit his head.” Mack says “nyeah” to every escape route we ask about.

Nate got out of his crib only once. We heard a thump and ran in and Nate was lying on the floor. “What happened?!” "I want to sleep on the floor." he said. So he did for the entire night and then never again.

Central Park

Weekends in NYC -- Autumn. Must get out of house -- boys need to run around, get fresh air (although Nate wouldn't mind staying inside and watching movies). The boys and I drive to Central Park. We park car at 76th between Madison and Fifth Avenue in front of fancy building, fancy doormen. We head into Central Park at 79th Street -- it's glorious, pristine, super clean, making me think again and again, "I can't believe how dumpy our Brooklyn playgrounds and parks are compared to this... good lord." We check out the boatyard, where kids steer knee-high beautiful sale boats by remote control. We climb huge rocks, Nate leading the way up and down to safety. We stroll to the end of half-marathon where Michael Jackson's Thriller blasts on the sound-system near finish line. We play in a gigantic pile of leaves. We play in a sand-filled playground where I hob-nob with rich handsome dads in super-cool weekend clothes. The dads and I watch smilingly as all the boys and girls slide down a steep aluminum slide that ends in fine, clean sand, preventing injury. We stroll up and down hills -- HILLS -- on paths that bend around beautiful old trees.