New island unlocked.

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Our esteemed publisher is having an amazing time at her hotel in Manila, but she is on her way to an island. Departures are bittersweet, and soups are savory. Kina strives to prolong them both.

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Sometimes the best cousin friendships are born of sacrifice.

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I wish I could have been there for this one! This was clearly a dream for her. The queen approaches!

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Kina heroically tried to fall asleep again after our call, lasting just one minute before springing up again. Second night is always the hardest.

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The difficult thing about writing these with no surrounding context is that I’m not sure which handsome face from that lunch we are meant to distrust.

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Given the presence of at least one (1) blanket, there is no space in which Kina will not attempt to build a fort.

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As the day approached for Kina and her mother to leave on a two-week trip to the Philippines, it dawned on me that I have never been apart from Kina for this long, for as long as she’s been alive. It then occurred to me that I have not been apart from Laurea for this long, for probably as long as we have been married. I have spent a lot of time with these people; it is strange to be alone.

Usually, when I take a trip away from Kina, whoever is left behind with her edits and produces The Daily Kina while I am gone. There have been outstanding stretches of this publication for which I can take no credit at all; Kina’s grandparents and Laurea have all carried the sacred pens a few times in the last five years. This is the first time that I’m doing TDK myself while I’m apart from Kina.

We’re ready for this; Laurea has shared with me a note from her phone with pictures and quotes and situations that I can draw on (no pun intended) for each of the next fourteen editions. There’s no shortage of material, and Laurea gets to enjoy the same little chuckles I do while writing things down for the next day’s edition. That makes me happy, just knowing that she can hear Kina’s strange muttering as she goes through her day. It’s a great gift.

Apologies as I catch up a bit here. Two thirds of our family has a whole international trip going on.

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Why have plain brown sugar cookies never taken off?

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You can’t stop the cute face.

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Being proud of my daughter banging her plastic motorcycle into reverse and pulling it around to the right is probably the most stereotypical dad feeling I have ever had.

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Why do you even have a kid, if you can’t use them as a tiebreaker in a minor debate?

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It’s been fun this summer to see Kina spending time with the extended family of Hannah, her nanny and (basically) third parent. This trip to the Bronx Botanical Gardens with Hannah’s aunt and little cousin was the culmination of a week of adventures, and after all the activity, I think everybody welcomed a cup of energy tea.

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I didn’t think much about the gender of Kina’s stuffie collection until last night, when I found out that they were all female—a fact that didn’t seem controversial when it finally emerged. I was more curious about the fact that one (and only one) of her crystals was non-binary, but I can get used to that.

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At least I’m cute in a way.

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Two whole months of telling somebody your new name actually sounds fun to me.

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I don’t know, Kina. I wish it was because I was popular. It’s probably because something is wrong. I’m working on it.

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Let me tell you—when the kids become fully autonomous and self-entertaining, beach with other families is great.

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It’s pretty amazing that we’ve never visited Park Avenue during the Summer Streets weekends. If you are a New Yorker and ride a bike, there’s something pretty magical about being able to ride around the Met Life building and stare Cornelius Vanderbilt right in the mug. We must have ridden nearly twenty miles just going back and forth this weekend—it’s fantastic.

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This is the correct analysis.

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It’s a really brightly-colored lair for a spy, in my opinion, but I digress.

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It is always actually a comment.

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This is a ticket you can believe in.

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I remember feeling this way when I was Kina’s age, and whenever I stumbled on something that made the adults laugh, I’d try to figure out why by just doing the same thing over and over until they stopped laughing. Now Kina does the same thing, and I honestly can’t explain why I think anything is funny, and I wish I could remember what was so funny about being a kid. dad

It was a great trip, this last weekend. But wouldn’t it be nice to have a day at Coney Island? That’s what Kina’s brain asked overnight. It sounded like a great extra Sunday.

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The last time Kina was in Philly, she was four years old. She didn’t know about the tacos and the stuffies and the sleepovers. We will have to go back again sometime before three years from now, if only so she can make good on the three hours of extra sleepover she didn’t get.

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The key to keeping secrets is to force yourself to forget you have any, apparently.

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To be honest, I was there when she asked it, and it still barely makes sense.

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I didn’t hang this one up in the kitchen because I didn’t want Kina to know that the beef in the pie was tongue. Packs a punch! dad

I write to you this rainy evening, annoying but lovable.

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No gummy is worth an hour long tantrum, unless the gummy is a sense of grief about the end of family vacation.

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The city’s not so bad.

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The end of a trip, three days later. Still sand in her shoes.
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I have never seen somebody so proud of herself.
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She’s gone full rock.
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Mommy is not known for driving, so this was a major accomplishment in Kina’s eyes. dad

Setting aside the great tragedy of a beautiful walk to no strawberry ice cream, she and Nicky did in fact enjoy their annual trip to the Giglio and its raft of humanity.
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Honestly, I am confused about this most of the time. dad

Come for the dinner table tiff, stay for “Would you do this in front of the Queen of England?”

But really, stay; it’s much better in this newspaper than in the outside world, in nearly every way—despite the bickering.

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Laurea’s reaction to jet lag is to not be jet lagged.

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Ah, the smell of trampolines after a transcontinental flight and six hours of sleep.

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Kina spent the whole cross-country flight worried that she wouldn’t make a 10 AM birthday party.

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Apropos of just about everything, I would like to rewind the clock by two weeks and have Kina setting up her fort in Alameda again. Simpler, calmer times. Go for a walk on the dunes today, if you can.

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Goodbyes are easier than they used to be, but it’s not that easy. Kina has learned enough about this to be ready with a hug and a cautious smile. It has been a good trip, with lots of good family time. Nothing to be sad about. But it’s sad, even so, sometimes.

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All of the SF honorary uncles came by for games and food and Kina reading about Pusheen. It was ambitious and fun.

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“It is happening,” Laura has taken to saying as we ramble slowly through the easygoing lanes of San Francisco and the greater Bay Area. By “happening”, she means that we are becoming enamored of the luxurious politesse and elevated bakery standards of this place. The organic produce is more organic than organic. The cars drive themselves, slowly. Nobody honks. Kina, too “is happening”, claiming that the ever-present and cooling fog of the Outer Sunset is preferable to the beating sun and frenetic energy of New York.

I have joked to Laurea that every trip we make to the Bay Area has three acts:

Act I: The Visitors Laugh and Roll Their Eyes

This may be my favorite game of hers yet. Turns out, the thing most likely to make me laugh is Kina laughing at herself, which means that I mostly end up waiting for Kina to crack herself up, which seems like a win-win scenario for all involved.

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The deer usually come before Kina wakes up, but she needed to go to them today, instead, and found them grazing by the boulders outside the gate. It was magical, for her and me both.

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