Lingerie, LivingSocial & Looking Back

I wouldn't call myself "a model" but I did some modeling in my early 20s. I realized that you didn't need a perfect body and face or an agent to work as a model. You just needed a sense of adventure and fearlessness, Craigslist ads, and a free online portfolio. So for a year after college I lived out my life-long modeling fantasies while tapping into my inner stylist and art director.

I worked for free sometimes. I got paid sometimes. I was a muse. Seriously. I collaborated with photographers in NYC and DC and dabbled in some art direction. I styled most of my own shoots or I went with whatever (often) crazy ensembles the photographers picked out: I wore chain mail; I wore a curly, black wig (?!?!?!).

I posed in the ocean at Long Beach--and I never go in the ocean. I posed nude for an anti-chemicals series for a comedy writer turned activist photographer. I worked for a conceptual artist that took polaroid "reflections" of my image in a white wall, where I was literally paid to stand there and NOT BE IN THE PICTURES.

I did a shoot in an abandoned ballet studio filled with antique furniture. I was photographed sitting on a couch, watching a movie. Security guards once stopped us from shooting in the PS1 Contemporary Art Center. I was asked by a photographer if he could videotape our shoot to show his "Japanese benefactors" who might want to book me for video work --- UHHH NOOOoooo thanks. I did boring "just sit there" work for a photographer who wanted a test model for his studio set-up.

So random.

I loved connecting with the camera. I loved challenging my vulnerability -- either by showing an uncomfortable amount of skin, or conjuring up an emotion, or meeting a photographer for the first time and hoping all intentions were professional while planning an exit strategy. I loved feeling way prettier than I actually was. I loved the moment where I got to see all the photos for the first time.

At the time, I thought I was doing it for the pictures. To capture my last moments of youth and preserve it somehow. But really, most of those pictures live on my old hard drive somewhere or tucked away in boxes in the back of my closet. I don't look at them, but I do think of the experiences often because they were all so bizarre.

Last year, I stumbled across a LivingSocial deal for a boudoir photography photo shoot for a really good price. I impulse purchased it. I thought it would be fun to do a lingerie shoot for my husband. Well, let's be honest, I thought it would be fun to do for me -- to mark turning 30, to have sexy photos of myself after having a baby.

It was fun. And it was nice to hear the photographer ask, "Wow, have you done this before?" "Well, actually, yeah. A million years ago." I kinda have the bug again - the desire to be creative, to collaborate with artists, to have that "putting on a show" feeling, to strut in a way I do not do in my everyday life. [Will pose for free :) Tell your photog friends.]

I figure I'll share a few of the photos. It was a pretty prudish shoot for a lingerie shoot - went classy instead of racy - but I'm feeling a smidge embarrassed so I'll just post a few of the portraits. These are unedited photos by Jerry Zalez:

A bit like an hour long vacation into my former life, eh?

Nunley's: 1st Carousel Ride, A Cautionary Tale

Image source

"There's a place for kids near The Cradle of Aviation. I always see a ton of children there. Let's see what it is," my grandfather suggested during an early autumn visit with Savannah. Turned out he was referring to the Long Island Children's Museum. We only had time for a short visit because Savvy and I needed to be home in time for her other Grandpa to pick us up, so it wasn't worth the $20/person fee to visit the museum for just 30 minutes.

LUCKILY, the same museum complex houses Nunley's Carousel, which is a famous Long Island landmark that has been operating since 1912. Score! We had just enough time to take a ride and I was SOOOO excited to have Savvy experience her very first carousel ride. It had been probably 20 years since I'd been on one and I worried I'd be nauseous from spinning around and around while listening to ridiculously loud carnival music, but my mind was occupied by keeping Savvy safe.

I thought there were two options for ways to ride the carousel. Horse or bench. Apparently there are THREE options and I wish I knew this ahead of time.

1. Horse that goes up and down--your standard merry-go-round horsie

2. Boring bench seat

3. Stationary horse

They have stationary horses on carousels??!?!?! If only there was a sign!!! How did that smart dad of a 1 year old in front of us know to choose the safest horse option? Savvy could've ridden on a toddler-friendly non-galloping horsie and I could've been spared the experience of clutching onto my slip sliding kid so she didn't fall to her death off of this horse as it went up and down from my waist height to up past my shoulders. She was too young at 13 months to understand holding onto the pole.

She was none the wiser and seemed to enjoy the ride--she didn't try to reach for my arms or even look for any sort of reassurance from me once we started moving.

Notice how I'm clutching the pole for dear life.

But really. This carousel is awesome!! I will definitely take her again! Just, if you have a child that can't hold onto the pole themselves, take my advice and find a stationary horsie.

Looking Back: Long Island, a Great Grandpa and the Road to Fond Memories

After giving birth to Savannah, I was lucky to avoid clinical postpartum depression or extreme postpartum anxiety. That said, my emotions were definitely in a major upheaval for many months as I adjusted to new motherhood and my hormones stabilized. While on the one hand I marveled at how easy breastfeeding, diapering and caring for my newborn was, I nervously crossed every street worrying that we'd both get run over and killed; I clutched the handle of her stroller in public worrying that if I let go someone would snatch her. While I thanked my lucky stars for being blessed with a newborn who slept 6 hour stretches at night from day 1, I sometimes cried in the kitchen during the 5am wake-ups out of jealous rage that my husband slept peacefully through Savannah's cries. While I finally understood how much I myself was loved by my family now that I experienced motherly love for Savannah, instead of reliving happy memories from my youth, my mind would fill with all the moments that caused me pain.

Every family argument, deep dark secret, embarrassment came rushing back. I made a mental catalogue of all the things I would NEVER do or say to Savannah. I had this weird mother hen instinct to shield Savannah from my family even though my overall childhood experience was happy--I wasn't abused or impoverished or left to go hungry.

My family is on Long Island, close enough to New York City for occasional visits. The first few visits were tense, especially when Savvy went through her bouts with stranger anxiety and cried anytime her grandma or great grandparents held her. Her cries made my physical response (elevated heart rate, "flight" response--I just wanted to rush her back home) almost unbearable and left me exhausted. I couldn't leave her for a minute because she would protest my departure as young as 3 months!- it was so much tougher to parent her when staying in my childhood home surrounded by loving family that wanted to help, than alone in my apartment. So I tried to avoid visits even though I also really wanted to show her off.

Eventually my unease disappeared as did all my other symptoms of "baby blues" or whatever you want to call it.

Last September, Savvy and I enjoyed a 4 day visit at my mom and grandparents' house. It was such a fun time and brought me right back to all the happy times I had as a child! Savvy was nearly 13 months old and a true walking, sorta-talking toddler at this point. She was finally warmed up to her grandma and great-grandparents, babbling with them, smiling constantly, giving kisses, etc.

My 88 year old grandfather, the one who inspired my love of travel and adventure by taking me on yearly road trips all across the US, planned daily activities for us to make sure Savannah had a great time. It was just what I needed to release all of my worries and really enjoy this crucial family bonding time.

Thanks to the adventures Gramps planned for us, Savannah rode a Carousel for the first time, threw rocks into a stream, and saw the type of plane he piloted, B-24, during WWII. She also learned to say Apple "aaaah-POOO", still one of her favorite words, thanks to the enthusiastic repetition of her great grandfather at the breakfast table.

I'll write short posts about the places we went in upcoming posts for those of you looking for things to do with children in Nassau County, LI, but for now, here are a few photos of Savvy and her loving family from that trip:

Obsessions

I go through phases of obsessive curiosity, learning and exploring. In high school, it was music and theater. Every afternoon and evening was filled with play rehearsals, jazz band, jazz choir, concerts, performances, hanging out with band and theater geek friends.

In college, I was obsessed with the gender, sex and relationships, and filled my course load with career-boosting courses (NOT) like Men & Women in American Society, Biology of Human Sexuality, Sociology of Human Sexuality, Sex & Violence in Asian American Literature, Art & Literature Depicting Women During the Renaissance, etc, etc.

Then the travel bug hit me before I studied abroad in London my junior year and I obsessively researched European countries to plan my travel itinerary and spent hours and hours pouring over travel guides to France, Italy, The Netherlands, Scotland, Spain, etc. For at least 2 solid years after college graduation, the only books I read were travel memoirs, and the highlights of my mid-20s were vacations---A 14 day solo trip to London, Manchester & Paris and a vacation to Ecuador to stay with a close friend and his family in Quito.

Somewhere in the last 5 years, life and the financial commitment of living in NYC has me focused less on international travel and more on other, newer obsessions like wedding planning, immediately followed by "oh crap, I'm pregnant!" baby planning, immediately followed by research into education methodology, parenting philosophy, and slew of related topics that I never thought I'd care about. In fact, when I was pregnant and first read the phrase "parenting philosophy", I was like "Huh??? People label their parenting styles? That's insane. Free range parenting? Attachment Parenting? People think too much."

But now I'm the poster child of a mother who thinks so much. This latest parenting obsession makes sense - I am a mom after all - but it goes way beyond what an average parent needs to know. Parenting is instinctual for the most part - it's not like you need to study. But I'm addicted to the research component of it all - I want to learn everything there is to know about raising a child from various points of view, all the different theories on discipline, every method of sleep training, play-based learning philosophies, at-home project ideas to build fine motor skills, increase confidence, etc, etc.

In my free time, I read blogs like Play at Home Mom, Tinkerlab, Modern Parents, Messy Kids, Penelope Trunk's Homeschooling Blog and various mommy blogs, I see what my virtual mommy friends are up to on Twitter, and I scope out Pinterest for cool project ideas to add to my For Savvy board. I've read all the books. In fact, I'm expecting a shipment from Amazon that includes How to Raise and Emotionally Intelligent Child, which I'm sure isn't rocket science but I'm DYYYYINNNNNG to read it because it is referenced so often in all these silly articles and blogs I read.

When I stop and think about it, it's clearly insane to be doing all this additional research when parenting has come incredibly naturally to me. Half the time, I read some piece of advice and pat myself on the back because it highlights something I already do naturally. Parenting my sweet Savannah already occupies my brain 99% of the day - I should probably use the remaining 1% of my mental energy to focus on ME.

So I need a new obsession. I WANT that obsession to be living up to the goal of this blog to explore the world through NYC. I just need to figure out what to explore FIRST.

Possibly My Favorite Minute of 2011

I have intense blog envy for mommy bloggers that manage to write the narrative of their family life on a daily basis. Every time I read Dear Baby, for example, I'm inspired and super jealous. Anyways, there are a lot of wonderful memories from last year, my first full year as a mother, that are sitting up in my noggin and need to be jotted down somewhere so I don't lose them forever. Here is one that might just be my favorite.

My friend Melinda and I took Savannah to Lido Beach. It was a short trip and I tried to photo-document as much of Savannah's first warm-weather "beach experience" as possible. I often find it hard to live in the moment during these "firsts" because I'm so occupied with normal parenting responsibilities like feeding, nursing and diapering PLUS taking photos, telling Savvy about what we're doing, making sure she experiences the sand and water, etc, etc. (In fact, during this 2-3 hour stint at the beach, I vividly recall not lying down and relaxing one single time--my own fault.) The day could have been stored in my subconscious as a fun day at the beach, but there was one moment in particular that made me stop and feel the gravity of this particular first. It also reminded me to pause sometimes to see life through Savvy's eyes.

Savvy was cruising at this point and able to walk steadily if I held both her hands, so I took her for a walk to the water sans camera while Melinda read a magazine. Usually I had to contribute to her forward momentum by pushing her forward a bit, but as soon as her toes hit the ocean she dashed forward and I had to speed up my pace to keep up. She was practically running! She did not want to stop - she loved the water so much; just wanted to go farther out. I stopped her when she was about thigh deep because I'm a scaredy cat. I was so taken aback by her speed that it hit me: Her desire to run into the unknown was a metaphor for her life. Not even a year old, she had her whole future in front of her just like this vast ocean and she wanted to explore it all. I was so intensely proud of her. She had no fears, nothing holding her back (well, except for me...).

I crouched down behind her and put my hands on her waist. "This is the ocean, Savannah. Do you feel the breeze on your face? Do you hear the waves? Isn't it amazing?" And we stood there.

This photo was taken that afternoon during a different trip to the water. You can see how far we were able to walk out before getting to the waves. My girl ran quite the distance!