Publisher celebrates that elusive feeling of being at the exact perfect age
There are several moments in your life where you feel like you’re not quite too old. Senior year of high school, junior year of college, 23, 37. I am well past that, but it’s good to know that Kina has it all laid out ahead of her.
Daddy is confused, since two calendar weeks remain; Kina understandably thrilled
Regarding the Noise-Making Toy article here: I was shocked to find I had never written about the “Interesting Game” device until today, fully six years after its arrival on our doorstep from Amazon. Laurea bought it in a pandemic haze as an attempt to “keep Kina off screens”, leading only to a constant stream of weirdly high pitched techno and heavily accented declarations of “SHOES!” The Interesting Game is dead. Long live the Interesting Game.
Sports editor bones up on tournament rules as Knicks clinch NBA championship
A trophy, a lifetime’s worth of ramen, and the enduring love of a city that sees themselves in you. Long time coming. I love this team, and I hope they enjoy the noodles. LGK
She had a bad dream that our building burned down and Daddy got hurt, but we’re okay.
I remember having dreams like this when I was Kina’s age, becoming aware of the fragility of things and the things that could hurt my parents. (In one dream, my dad got in a car accident and wasn’t wearing his seatbelt, which made me constantly anxious about seatbelts for a while.) Last night, Kina asked Laurea if we had insurance and how insurance worked, which seemed like a strange line of questioning until the nightmare came up—a burning house and an injured father. Things are scary and uncertain, but we are here, still. My dad never did get in that car accident. I am okay. We are okay.
This is the second year in a row that I’ve been at her school on my birthday
Best possible start to my birthday: an essay on omelettes, a raucous recorder performance of “We Will Rock You”, and twenty-one fourth graders singing Happy Birthday to me. May this entire year carry that same energy.
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.
