Overtired publisher needs assurance from Mommy that it’s okay to fall asleep
You were coughing a little bit last night—remnants of an earlier cold and the shifting weather—and you worried that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. We know you well enough to know that this is the sort of anxiety that immediately precedes you conking out for the night, but you don’t, and the thought of a night spent awake and alone was too much for you to bear. It’s hard to be awake sometimes, in the night, and we are often alone. That we can’t always cling tightly to each other to protect each other from the loud sounds and passing shadows can make us feel scared and exposed. But if you need us, we will always come, no matter where we are. We will snuggle you until you fall asleep, but you sleep through the night pretty well on your own these days, despite the noise. We need you probably more than you need us—so we won’t be far, either way.
We had just played frisbee in the midday sun, so honestly getting soaked was the move
A woman at the new East River Park in Manhattan walked up to me when Kina was spraying me with water and said, “I will miss the seals, but this is nice, too,” which is very Lower East Side coded and wistful and accurate. The new park is good.
Also: We love the titas, but this year’s Philippine Independence Day stage was light on entertainment, heavy on speeches. Bring back the budots!
I write this from my plane home from London. Excited to see my publisher and assistant editor in just a few hours, and I’m eager to check out the size of this enormous balloon.
Kina plays with her at recess before she moves to California
Vera was in Kina’s kindergarten class, and the two of them have stayed fairly close through elementary school (though they have not always shared a classroom). Her move to California isn’t really unexpected, but it’s notable. I remember being Kina’s age and having to move to another state, which coincided with my emerging sense of independent self and deeper, more conscious bonds with my friends. It doesn’t surprise me that Vera is hidden all over today’s edition. It’s a process for Kina, too. She’s a good kid and a good friend, and we know she’ll do great in California.
“Nosearea” as a nickname is something that only Laurea could have earned by asking such an innocuous question. Kina is a truly ruthless almost-fifth-grader.
Kina, Salma, Runa, Amina, and Bea chase each other in the sprinklers, hula hoop, then walk to the local bodega and come back with sacks of candy, mamitas, and ice cream bars
As I write my conference talk in the midst of a city embroiled in Arsenal fandom, Laurea and Kina spend a fun day at the playground.
Kina finds a kindred spirit in Dutch fashion-designer-slash-mad-scientist
I told Laurea yesterday, as Kina lay across my lap and silently watched every Iris van Herpen runway show since 2015, that this exhibition is going to make future fashion designers out of hundreds of little kids. Including Kina.
Kina’s two great loves, Mommy and pasta, all together in one moment
The thing that gets me is that Laurea has apparently always smelled like pasta with no sauce, which makes this Kina’s first and most powerful emotional sense memory.
Someone needs to tell the Staples people that nobody cares what a peck is
Did you know that 12 gross make a great gross? What is a rod? Go buy a generic composition notebook from Staples, and you can follow Kina’s lead in stumping your parents.
Child enjoys a smooth-toothed dinner after a brief ten-month stint in the wires
Before she left for the orthodontist, I asked if I could press my cheekbone to her braces one last time, as I have every time I’ve hugged her since last July. Just one last scrape!
