I'll Raise You Five

Today was a banner day. Cohen and I reunited - as in, on purpose, since the hairpulling incidents of this past Spring. He seemed not just fine but dare I say delighted to see me. Perhaps it was because I was sitting beyond touchable range.

I Heart the MTA

I've been talking an awful lot about choo-choo trains (as in, every fourth word), so my parents took me to one of the finest cultural institutions I'll ever know: the New York City Transit Museum. Also known as Seventh Heaven. It was a fascinating experience on a number of levels: it offered a glimpse into history, a look into the city's urban development, and chronicled a tale of pop-culture (with less than subtle advertising that would've made Don Draper wince). Best of all though, I got to run around, slam doors and press a whole lot of buttons.

Weekend with Daddy

My mom was a bit suspect when my dad not only agreed to but encouraged her to accept an invitation to a blissful girl's getaway in Amagansett. Eventually, she got him to fess up: Should Collingwood win the playoffs to compete in the Grand Final (touch wood), my dad will be cashing in all his miles to fly across the world to Melbourne to cheer on the Pies for an estimated five days. However the negotiations net out, I had a grand time with dad while my mom was off finding herself in the Hamptons. And it turns out I've effectively set my mom's body clock to wake at 6:58 AM-- kid or no kid, with or without dirty martinis.

Cousin Max!

The more I age, the more I appreciate family, in particular my Cousin Max, quite possibly the coolest 13-year old I've ever met. Also, I loved hanging with my Auntie Wawa and Uncle Alex. Their visit was (too) short and sweet.

Heat Wave

104 and game face on (that's 37 Celsius for my Aussie kin). Enough said.

Montauk!

In the world of Park Slope, Brooklyn nannydom, the industry standard is 2-weeks paid vacation. Realizing that it would actually cost my parents more to pay for additional child care on one of Ira's week's off than it would for them to actually take a vacation, they decided we'd head to Montauk. How very free-spirited. Of course, my dad had work obligations on a Monday and a Friday, killing any chances of extending our vacation into the weekend. And so off we went for our awkwardly timed mid-week holiday.

Despite the uninspired context, the vacation itself turned out to be surprisingly pleasant and relaxing. We all had a blast in Montauk. I mastered my breast stroke, connected with the ocean in ways I never had before, and ate, lounged and slept heartily. My mom only forgot to pack a few things, including:

• diapers (seriously?)
• swim diapers (again, seriously?)
• a back-up sippy cup - which only became an issue when my favorite sippy cup landed on the side of the road somewhere in East Hampton. (Tip: tossing things out an open window is a great way to pass time on a 3+ hour car-ride.)

She did, however, remember her bike helmet, even though my parents didn't bring their bikes.

I will confess, there was an element of schaudenfreude to the whole experience knowing that it was 10-degrees hotter back in NYC.

Happy 4th!