Monthly Archives: December 2011

Forgot to mention: Santa Claus (meaning busy daddy) came through for me this year, and upgraded my trusty Lumix GF-1 to the new Lumix GX-1, which is a freakin’ amazing camera! Paired with an 8mm fisheye lens, the photos are great. I’ve been sort of reluctant to walk around outside with my new GX-1 because I don’t want it to lose its new-car smell, but I guess I should just start playing with it…

After playing with LEGO and Star Wars, the boys worked on an art project together, which made me happy, not just because they were playing nicely, but because the boy was excited about drawing.

Selfishly, I worry sometimes that my son is more of a math-science guy than an artist. The boy told me that his teacher said he’s “math smart.” I imagine lots of parents would be thrilled to hear something like this, but I hope the boy will continue to explore his creative side. 

I’m lucky that my parents always let me and my siblings pursue art in school and creative jobs as adults, all this despite the fact that all of us were/are “math smart.” I think if you’re naturally inclined toward analytical thinking, it’s useful to exercise your creative mind, and vice versa. The truth, though, for me at least, is that math and science are easy, but art is difficult.

If I had my way, the boy would work on his art instead of his math. Because he has his entire life to pursue being an accountant (if he wants), but the innate creative spark we all have (especially when we’re kids) is fleeting and dissipates with age.

I wish I could show you more of fashion PR daddy and fashion designer dad’s amazing house, but I thought it would be rude to be snapping photos of their place willy-nilly. Suffice to say, it’s a gorgeous modernist house built on the side of a cliff that’s worthy of Dwell magazine.

The lunch spread was equally gorgeous and delicious, and included turkey sandwiches with sliced apples, stuffing, and cranberries (Thanksgiving on a sammie!); pumpkin soup; and salad with hemp seeds. For dessert, there was a yummy cookie plate, and coffee spiked with chocolate-infused vodka. It was all yum!

We spent the day at the lovely Upstate New York home of our friends fashion PR daddy and fashion designer dad (not to be confused with designing daddy). Their son is seven-years-old, so the boy had a great time hanging out with his new friend. While the boys played with LEGO and Star Wars figures, the grownups noshed on delicious eats and chatted.

Once busy daddy, fashion PR daddy and fashion designer dad started talking about fashion, design, and other artsy-fartsy stuff, I knew I was out of my depth, so I kept my pie-hole shut while they debated the relevance of WWD versus Interview magazine.

It’s possible that I’ve been too immersed in the interests of a five-year-old, so I don’t really have much to add to grownup conversations these days. That is, unless the grownup conversation is about boogers and Star Wars, then I’m all over that shizzle.

Forgot to mention: when we were at IKEA, I wanted to let the boy play in the ball room, but it was crazy full, so we did a little bit of shopping instead. For the record, I didn’t buy anything that would lead to slapping by designing daddy. Just a few picture frames, some towels, and whatnots.

While we were waiting in the check-out line, the boy was running around, so I called his name and told him to settle down. A pregnant woman in front of me asked, “What’s your son’s name?” And I told her. Then she asked, “What’s his middle name?” And I told her. Then she said, “I love that name! I’m having a boy and I’ve been trying to find a name, and I might have to steal your son’s name!” I said, It’s not stealing because I didn’t make up those names. Plus, it’s not my name, it’s the boy’s name, and there’s already another boy at his school with the same name, so it’s not all that unusual, especially by yuppie standards.

At least she didn’t want to name her baby boy after the stuff I bought. Because I don’t think Herrup, Mahult or Stuva would really work out so well for a boy at school.

Following a week of eating super-rich, Christmas-related meals and snacks, the boy said he wanted some haute cuisine. And by haute cuisine, he meant lunch at IKEA. So we got our usual: mac and cheese with veggies for the boy, and Swedish meatballs for me. We shared a chocolate truffle bar, but I ate most of it since the boy confessed to me that he doesn’t really like chocolate truffles. Sometimes I don’t even know who this kid is.