Boys need to stop.

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A full issue of beach coverage today, from the child who spent hours yesterday frolicking in the unspeakably cold water at Fort Tilden and then rolling around in the sand like a sea lion. True heads know that the weekend before Memorial Day is the best beach trip ever.

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Laurea and I have watched the Dance Parade on three occasions—all totally by accident.

The first time (before Kina), Laurea and I were wandering through Union Square and saw a group of Bolivian dancers spinning down Broadway, which was a magical superimposition on the city.

The second time was with Kina, when she was barely two; we were strolling up Lafayette and saw Saint Marks blocked off—we walked back past the rest of the parade onto University Place, where Kina spent two hours on my shoulders watching various dance troupes and floats roll past.

When I tried to get her to tell me the names of the other four kids, she told me to “stop talking please”.

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The sounds of secret snacking.

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I keep observing this phenomenon from afar, here at The Daily Kina HQ, in which Kina demands a hug from Laurea after doing something mildly annoying to me, which Laurea reluctantly grants. Kina, noting her mother’s reluctance, then requests further hugs for no particular reason, other than that Laurea is playing it low-key so as not to amplify her rising frustration, which worries Kina. Kina then asks for more hugs to confirm her mother’s love for her (about which, to be clear, there is no question), which Laurea rightly sees as a troubling pattern, triggering further urgency about the hugs. I do not know what to do about any of this, but I suspect there’s something in here about the way that children and their parents need each other, and how endearing and frustrating that can be for all involved.

We don’t take it for granted.

dad

It turns out I had already written about Kina’s secrets last August—a top headline, even! Still, her use of whispers has become more calculated, sophisticated, and frequent in the intervening months, and I love how today’s headline conveys the extent to which Kina will attempt to subvert my popsicle bans.

I almost led with the bit about Kina saying that I sound like I’m barfing when I brush my teeth, which would have been more original, but I didn’t want to subject you all to that. Also, it’s inaccurate. I think.

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There is literally no way to stop her from echoing every single thing you say.

From the bathroom: THERE IS LITRALLY NO WAY TO STOP HER FROM ECHOING EVERYTHING YOU SAY

It is as bad as everybody told you.

I did my best, honestly, which is about all you can expect of anybody these days. We eat soup, ride in elevators, and try to keep our feet to ourselves.

Some great bunnies in today’s Parade, each dedicated to a member of our family. Kina is getting really good at block lettering. And bunnies.

Her patience pays off. My favorite illustration today is the one where Kina is walking proudly through the house holding her shorts. Kina’s favorite illustration is the one where she is sneezing—with shorts.

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What is so real, anyway, that we should see fit to give it a name? Mozzarella sticks, maybe, and Kina.

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Honestly, she probably could have popped out the shorts. It’s my bad, really.

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It’s hard to pivot from airplanes to fertilization in a casual morning conversation about pregnancy and reproduction, and so we didn’t, electing instead to take the day and think about a strategy for explaining sex to our five year old. I asked friends on Instagram for answers, and got some good ideas. Mostly, they added up to “the truth”, but one friend put it very well:

“We gave [child who was Kina’s age] a very straightforward penis and vagina explanation, and then she would ask follow ups until she heard something she did not want to deal with.”

Righteous.

A little Daddy-Daughter time as Mommy checks out the Boston Convention Center. Pasta was consumed.

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Otis, Kina, and our beloved moose were excellent children for their respective Mommies and Amas, even if the weather outside was essentially winter. In May. Again.

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Kina’s Mommy is one of the most inspiring people I know, assiduously building a community of sharp-witted and astonishing women around her, and has been doing so for over a decade. She lifts her friends up and raises her daughter with equal calm and joy. Happy Mother’s Day to her.

Kina started painting this morning’s Parade before we even woke up. One of the figures is Kina, and the other is Laurea. In between is, I don’t exactly know—a uterus? It’s all very fitting for today.

Not allowed to make noise because it will disturb her, but must have music in my head that I can identify at a moment’s notice, because I serve at her majesty’s pleasure.

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“Hahahahahahahaha!!!! I love the morning!!!!! Hahahaha!!”

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Remember: I am old.

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I remember thinking this about my own parents when I was small, and even having learned that knowledge was acquired over time, I still thought them dauntingly wise—and do even today.

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