Everett Takes Manhattan.

Everett Takes Manhattan.
There it is. My tiny, bubble window frames that triumphant, iconic skyline. It never fails to give me a thrill in my gut, a rush to the head. This vast metropolis is comprised of anonymous multitudes who dream to be known, discovered and found. So much hope and promise pulsing through the subways, rising up the dizzying elevators, and reaching higher than Freedom Tower. I've admired this place from afar, lived in it up close, and today, for the first time in quite a while, am just a visitor. This time, though, everything is different. My arms are carrying the 15 most important pounds of my life and he has no idea what he is in for.

He stares up at me, almost reading my anticipation, feeling the sense of the plane landing. Can he tell what I'm thinking yet? I have no idea if a 3, almost 4-month old can intuit that profoundly. But if any of them could, it would be him. Ha. Thought every parent ever.

I brought my baby to Manhattan. And here is how it went.

We Came.
Last week we took our first family trip to New York City. I'll admit it. My excitement and anxiety for this trip were equally yoked in the days leading up to our departure. I mean, take a baby on a plane? With recirculated air? During FLU SEASON?! Ew. Ah. Oh.

We Conquered. (Not Without Casualties.)
I'll just go ahead and get to the punchline: the trip was sublime. My child did as well as a spirited 4-month-old can. Was he a perfect traveler? Oh no. HE'S A BABY. There were two screaming restaurant incidents that I'd like to pretend never happened. But for the most part, he behaved wonderfully and went with the flow so, so well. It was almost odd, because, as I've shared before, he's not the lowest-maintenance baby. But his plane rides were so good, they were almost uneventful. And our time navigating the city together was actually super sweet and special. It was a delight sharing it with him, watching his eyes widen in awe at the enormity and grandeur and shimmer and grit.

// The foliage was perfect. Gosh I love New York. //

// Top Left: Everett putting on his fight face as we trolled the town, Top Right: Family Selfie waiting while waiting for the elevator, Bottom Left: Us with the iconic Love statue (right next to our hotel!), Bottom Right: Post-screaming lunch with the baby, where an Uber cab ride and a trendy coffee comforted my soul. //

// Central Park was as perfect as I remember //

// I got free balloons! It was really fun to walk around with... until it wasn't anymore. I might have tied them off somewhere in the city... //

// His puffer coat was like a magical cloak of sleeping properties. He yelled every time I put it on him... and then he did that ^. //

// Narnia. //

// Breastfeeding in the park (lets normalize it, people), some cute guy snapping photos, and me with my Everett bus loaded down with practically everything we own. //

How We Played.
What did we do while we were there? Mostly, we just enjoyed the park and visited some dear friends. Ate some rad sandwiches from the deli around the corner (several times :)) Took Everett to FAO Schwartz to pick out a Christmas toy (we ended up with a book.) Had some random girls give us balloons while we meandered through the park (I know - what??) Had a few too many treats from Magnolia Bakery (thanks, Jess!) Did a bit of Christmas shopping on 5th Ave., although this time I found myself wandering through the baby sections and chatting it up with the other moms in the store. It was kind of a surreal weird moment (like, am I old enough to even have a baby??) Watched the Veterans Day parade. Drank coffee and dreamed of what it would have been like if we were still living in our little 1-bedroom on the Upper West Side. As much as I love this crazy mess of a town, I am so glad we aren't living there now.

Sound too harsh? I'll give you an example. Each time I came back to the hotel after spending a few hours outside, I had to wipe a layer of grime off of Everett's face. He literally had a gritty pacifier mark from just, I don't know, the outside air? It grossed me out. When I walked with him in the stroller, I desperately wanted to shield him from the everything-ness of walking down 6th Avenue, where our hotel was located. Just so many people shoving by, jaywalking, cursing, smoking, yelling, cabs honking, exhaust fumes and wayward bikers every which way. It was just a lot. A whole lot. Everett took it in stride, but he definitely had his moments where he was DONE.

Moments That Surprised Me.
I definitely found myself holding my breath as we rode in elevators, anticipating him screaming in an airless, lightless space, squished awkwardly between strangers, but that moment never came. He was calm. I kept him out a little bit late one evening to meet my friend Deb for dinner, and he let her hold him for a loooooong time, so happy and content. I mean, it was like 9pm! And he was just chilling, completely content to be surrounded by the ardent aroma of pasta and pizza. That's my little Italian. And walking around the park with him was honestly dreamy. The leaves were raining down on us with every cool shimmy of the breeze, and in one bend of the path there was a saxophonist crooning, "Autumn Leaves", while we were surrounded by the mesmerizing autumn leaves, and ... well, it was truly a moment I will never forget. Like one of those moments that isn't significant for any obvious reason, but stands out so strongly, you almost lose your breath when you remember it. It was just a tiny slice of our time, merely a fraction of the day's experiences, but I will never forget that bend in the path, with that jazz saxophone, and looking down at Everett's eyes, knowing he was taking it all in.

We stayed in Midtown, which was perhaps a nutty choice (since its the busiest area of town), but I'm grateful that we had such a central location and could go back to the hotel throughout the day when we needed a break. My child, who typically doesn't nap well, took two two-hour naps each day - that's how stimulated he was! (Unfortunately, he was just preparing to turn the tables on me, since we have been sleep challenged ever since we returned home from our trip. No one told me that coming home from a trip is actually the hardest part of traveling!)

Thankfully, we had a lot of friends who came to the hotel to see us - thank you all so much for making those visits so easy! It was so much fun sharing him with all the wonderful souls who were so invested in him all last year, long before he was even born. These are the beautiful friends who celebrated his gender reveal, showered me and Stevie with so much love and affection, and kindly lied to me when I kept asking if I was really as gigantic as I felt. Everett was a lot more relaxed and able to interact with everyone in the hotel room than in a crowded restaurant.

Even though he was slammed with work almost the entire time, Stevie and I had bits of time to enjoy some of the New York splendor, too. We scoured the lower east corner of the park, an area we hadn't discovered much together. We ate really really excellent takeout when Everett was too fussy to go out, but even the takeout in New York is spectacular. We got to see what it feels like to be parents, traveling with a baby, which... let me tell you what, it is DIFFERENT than being all fun and fancy free on your own. Remember these times? It's safe to say those days are over. At least for a while. But it's more than okay, we are embracing this season with with big thankfulness.

// Everett and all his friends :) //

When We Were DONE.
By the last day, Everett had taken Manhattan - and decided he'd had enough. He pretty much lost his mind in a restaurant in the Flatiron area (sorry, Jenna & Tara, for all the stares for all the wrong reasons), so I was happy to take my screaming, wriggling, huffing and puffing child into a cab and call it a day. Overall, I feel proud that we managed to make our way in the city without too many meltdowns.

I'll share more details about traveling with an infant next week. So many of you shared your tips and tricks with me, many of which worked beautifully. With the holidays coming up (and Thanksgiving right around the corner!), I know tons of you will be traveling with your kiddos, and I am excited to share about what worked and what didn't.

Thank You!
Also, many thanks to all of you who offered up such helpful advice about the 4-month sleep regression/transition that we experienced coming back from this trip. We are still in the throws of it, but thankfully the waking up every hour of the night has stopped. Living on a prayer, baby. And coffee. Lots and lots of it.

The Many Faces of Everett + Travel Tips?

The Many Faces of Everett + Travel Tips?
I really have tried to resist over-sharing baby pictures. Yet somehow I have turned into that monsterous baby-crazed lady, snapping 100+ photos a day of my child laying, playing, sleeping, screaming. I love them all. ALL. And yet I do feel sort of coo-coo for being that way. How did this happen? TO ME. I kind of can't believe it. I was never even a baby person. Not until Everett.

And oh my, Everett. He is full of personality. Has the strongest will. He is so funny and expressive. He gets bored way too easily. He doesn't just cry, he knows how to WAIL. He wants China to hear him. He really doesn't do anything half-heartedly. He is 100% present in all his feelings. And he has a lot of feelings. Like just now. He is feeling super annoyed that I put him down in his pack n' play to write this post. He's all like, "Lady, you think this mobile is entertaining? WHO DO YOU THINK I AM." And now he's crying. Translated from baby talk, that means he's hollering at me. Confession: I always hated it when other people's children would cry. It just sounded so irritating and distracting. And like, loud. However, when my baby cries, I just feel super bad for him. I find myself asking him over and over again, "What do you need? What can I do for you?!" - as if he will open his mouth and respond. Well, I guess he does respond. We just aren't speaking the same language quite yet. Although... we are getting there!

So I had to share a few of these wonderfully sweet photos of my babe-man from the past month. He cracks me up. It's okay if he doesn't crack you up, that's understandable. But you can humor me. BECAUSE I MADE HIM.

I'M BORED MOM.

// He likes to keep a little extra in his neck roll. For later. //

// I mean... seriously? Middle left?! BOTTOM RIGHT!! My uterus just skipped like 6 beats. //

In other news, we are heading back to NYC for a quick trip in a few weeks. Any tips on how to fly with a baby, get around a big city with a baby in tow, and any special products to pack would be suuuuper appreciated! I'll admit that I am a little nervous to fly with him because he just isn't the kind of child who will sit quietly in the corner. NOBODY PUTS BABY IN A CORNER. (Sorry, couldn't leave that one unsaid.) But seriously, he is not a docile, sleep-everywhere-all-the-time kind of kid. So... yeah. Help please.

Are you ready for Halloween? I am trying so hard to convince Stevie to do a family-themed costume for the 3 of us. So far he is putting up all kinds of "NO" to my ideas. But we will see if that lasts :)

21/50 NYC Adventures: Basking in Bryant Park

Basking in Bryant Park.
Bryant Park is just glorious. Located in Midtown, tucked squarely between the busy-ness of Times Square, the Rockefeller Center & Grand Central Station, this park is a standout NYC spot. Bring a blanket to lounge on, or not. There are tables and chairs aplenty, ready to serve your every park-loving whim. Substantially smaller than Central Park, this is an excellent spot to meet a friend for lunch and bask in the citylicious fun of Midtown. With lots of greenery and foliage to bathe your scurried mind in a peaceful calm. Ahhhh, breathe in that oxygen.

There is just something about Bryant Park that is old-school, inviting some kind of connection to the past generations of corporate New Yorkers. Their leather-bound briefcases and smart, tailored suits. Gazing upward at the impressive structures that represent industry, success, power. But here? Put business time aside and just relax. It's the perfect place to meet a pal for lunch. To ice skate in the winter. To read in the summer. Come visit the free Art Cart! Yes, there are free arts and crafts, where you can just draw and paint for hours, lounging by Le Carrousel. What is that? Oh, just the most charming, fanciful merry-go-round in the city. Or if that's not your thing, you can always head over to the Putting Green or Potanque Court for a friendly game. And did I mention the summer long Film Festival? Oh, how I loathe that I cannot be present for this summer's lineup of classic films. This park seriously has it going on, hosting every kind of community activity from yoga to book club to juggling, modern dance and fencing. Yes, fencing.

Yum.
I recently met my sweetheart friend Jenna in Bryant Park for a quick (and delicious!) sandwich at 'Wichcraft, a delicious food cart of sorts. We met each other in Boston when we worked for an ad agency (she hired me!) and we somehow both found ourselves in NYC not too shortly after. I have loved getting time to explore the city with her. On this particularly perfect sunny afternoon, we basked in the breezy warmth and discussed the craziness of living in this city, and the craziness of leaving the city. And she gave me a most beautiful, poignant gift: this book, Good Bye to All That: Writers on Loving and Leaving New York. It is a meaningful collection of essays, an homage highlighting all the glorious and gritty that New York offers its proud citizens. Such a sweet gift. I sat in the park for the afternoon, after she scurried back to her office, and read and read and read. And found a thankful peace in the midst of such a strange, exciting transition.

Basking. And thankful.
Thank you, sweet Jenna, for celebrating our departure from New York as a positive thing. For making me feel that this bittersweet decision is really just a progression from one season to the next, leaving a delicious taste in my mouth for this wonderful place I was proud to call home, even if only for a short time. And thanks to Bryant Park, I will always remember that feeling :)

What's Coming Up.

// Hydrangeas from my mom's yard. Ahhh. //

It's July!
Happy Monday, dear friends. I hope you had a blast celebrating the 4th of July with friends and family and my personal lover, watermelon.

I thought I would give you an update on what's coming up on the blog in the next few weeks.

I'm about to have a baby, in case you haven't heard.

Or noticed my gradual growth.

You are so kind to pretend you haven't noticed. I love you for that. You liar.

I have about 4 weeks until my due date, which means that soon (and very soon!) this little guy will be making his way into our lives. We are excited, thrilled, a little freaked (just of the unknown factor), and busily preparing ourselves, our birth plan, our home, our car, and our brains. But I'll save all those juicy details for this week's Bumpdate.

The past 6 weeks have been chock-full of transition in our world. We just moved out of our 1-bedroom apartment in New York City... into the upstairs of my parents' suburban Georgia home. Talk about a transition! We are all still adjusting. They have been gracious. They have bitten their tongues on several occasions. We will gladly accept your prayers.

Even though we're in Georgia now, I still have SO MUCH about NYC that I want to share. We experienced life in 3-D during our time living in Manhattan, and I wish that part of me could go on living there forever. While also living here. Does that make any sense? Anyway, I want to go ahead and share a lot of NYC-themed posts over the course of this next week, and then we will close the chapter to the 50 NYC Adventures for a season. So far, I've only shared 20 with you. I have so much more that I would like to share about NYC, but in preparation for the baby invasion, I'm going to hit pause on that series and come back to it again after the baby arrives (and after another NYC trip, which we are hoping we can make happen in late-fall :)Yes, we like to dream.

So coming up on the blog over the next month? Finishing up some NYC Adventures, more baby prep/pregnancy-related stuff, some new (WONDERFUL) Georgian tales, and a not-so-surprising lack of recipes (I loathe cooking these days). Once our little man arrives, I'll take about a month off (give or take) from blogging and be updating everyone via Instagram.

Just wanted to give you a sense of where everything is headed, rather rapidly - to babyland! Thanks for being part of our journey :)

20/50 NYC Adventures: Black Seed Bagel

Black Seed Bagel.
Word on the street is that this is THE PLACE for bagels in NYC. Forget those monstrous, slathered-in-cream-cheese, bloated New York bagels... Black Seed Bagel boasts the latest and greatest recipe in the bageling world. It's the only place in Manhattan serving this style... and it hails from Canada. That's right. You read me correctly. CANADA. Much like the cronuts at Dominique Ansel's, people line up at the crack of dawn to score their beloved breakfast bread. And sometimes? Well, Black Seed runs out. So you better hurry.

The Hype.
Why all the fuss? Apparently Montreal-style breakfast bagels are the jam these days. How do I know this? Weeeeeeeeeeell, I went to this uber-posh dinner party for a dear friend, and let me tell you, the guests at this gig were SO CHIC. A real New York moment, honestly. I don't know how I got invited. One guy was a fashion designer, another guy was an artist (like, a REAL one), another dude and his wife started this super cool blog that was taking Manhattan's restaurant realm by storm. It was like everywhere I turned, there was another awesomely accomplished, interesting-souled person to talk to. And one of those delightful humans shed some light on the "best bagel in the world" that I "absolutely HAD to try" before moving out of NYC. So I mean, what do you do when a stranger so strongly recommends something? Usually nothing. But people, he was talking about BREAKFAST FOOD. So, an obvious exception.

Taste the Gluten. DO IT.
Thank God we listened to him. Black Seed Bagel blew my mind. And our mystery friend was right - it was the best bagel I had ever tasted. Stevie and & seriously considered getting back in line for seconds. Why are they so great? These bagels are significantly smaller than NYC bagels, with a honeyed hint of sweetness and an almost almond-esque finish. It could be the fact that they bake them in a brick-fire oven. Or the way they hand-roll the dough and then poach the bagel in its final moment before serving. Could it be the butter-glazed outside, the tenderly crisped inside? Stevie opted for the Everything Bagel with cold-smoked salmon, avocado, tomato & cream cheese, while I omitted the salmon and had everything else. It was truly, truly SO GRAND. Ah, I'm salivating just at the memory.

Just Sayin'.
You lucky Manhattan-ites - go and get it. NOW.

18/50 NYC Adventures: THE CRONUT

THE CRONUT.
I've been waiting a while to share about this dynamite treat. Never was there such a curious, outrageous, truly spectacular sugary specimen as the cronut. The CRONUT. Masterminded by the pastry architects at the Dominique Ansel Bakery in Soho, the cronut is one of the few great hybrids of our time, the delicate marriage of a fluffy, flaky croissant and a decadent, rich donut. Let that sink in for a moment. A CROISSANT DONUT. And the wonder doesn't stop. Not only is the texture soft like butter, coated in rich molasses granules, but the flavors... they are just over-the-top outrageous. This particular one? Passionfruit with Maple glaze. Dear Lord, I just became a believer all over again.

The cronut is so famous in Manhattan that people line up every morning, beginning at 6:30 AM, to attempt a purchase. You see, there is a 2 per person limit. You aren't allowed to purchase any more than that. I mean, you can purchase OTHER pastries. But the cronut? They only make 350 each day and they sell out within an hour. So when you finally score a cronut, you've definitely earned your day's quota of bragging rights. There is no shame in sauntering into work (perhaps even a few minutes late, just for the statement), all smug like, "Yeah... got cronuts this morning." Wait for the jaws to drop. Wait for the pain-stricken howls of envy and regret from your coworkers. You know what you won't experience? Attitude for the asinine choice you made to wait in a forever-long line, in strange (sometimes evil) wintery weather, and pay far too much, all for a pastry. Nope. No one will question your race for the cronut. They just won't.

// The sexiest pastry of our time. //

// Celebrating its 1-year birthday! //

The Truth.
Of course, I can't tell you any of this from experience. I never waited in that god-forsaken line. Because an angel of the Lord delivered my cronut TO MY DOOR (cue epic Celine Dion ballad NOW.)

I've mentioned our delightful foodie friends Anthony and Jessica before (here and here), and I'm sure to shout their names from the rooftops again, but on this particular day? Well, they made me want to live in Manhattan, on the same block as them, FOR-EV-ER. Anthony, out of the dear kindness of his heart (and after previously hearing that Stevie and I had never indulged in this cronut mischief), decided to surprise us with cronuts. He got up early. He went ALL THE WAY DOWNTOWN (ugh, such a chore), in rush hour, no less. He waited in that looooooooong line. He purchased two (overpriced) cronuts. And he brought them home after work, delivering them to us in that stylish, infamous cronut-y packaging that can make you a target to get hoodlum-jumped on the subway. He did all of that. For us. I'm seriously tearing up just writing about it.

Guys. It was SO DEEEEEEEEEEELICIOUSSSSSSS. It was the ambrosia of the gods. The sweet honeyed nectar from a mythical, mystical, magical, emotional alternative universe of taste-sensory glory.

And of course, after indulging in the most decadent treat of my life, we immediately made plans to GO TO THERE.

Here we are, there, eating other delightful Dominique Ansel treats. The DKA, the Frozen S'more (and Stevie snagged a cheesecake-y thing for later!) We were undone.

And then we were done.

// Yes, that precious soul is blow-torching our S'more. Amen. //

// Other fine delicacies. //

Getyusome.
Nothing can compare. Nothing can come close. This was the pastry to take the cake (literally) and we are forever changed. Thank you, dearest Anthony & Jessica, for being the kindest, most giving creatures in Manhattan-land, and for GIVING US THE GIFT OF CRONUT.