The best of the Buy-Nothing Group hauls

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It’s been just over two years of being a member of my area’s Buy-Nothing group, and it’s been a really great experience. I’ve had, for the most part, very positive encounters with neighbors and great exchanges on different items that we’ve either wanted or been trying to off load. Just this last week, I was able to snag something out of a competitive lottery that I’d been thinking of buying Chris for some time, but I hesitated on it since he seemed pretty satisfied with his current basic version: a Burr coffee grinder. Burr coffee grinders, versus conventional coffee grinders like the one we have (and the one my dad has always used since I was young), are different in that they produce a more consistent grind size. They also generate less heat during grinding, which helps to preserve delicate oils and flavors in coffee beans. Given these factors, they are clearly a lot more expensive than the average coffee grinder, as they tend to go for $80+. The version I was able to get, a Bodum burr grinder, dummy-proofs the process even more for you: there is a guide right on the lid showing you which grind setting to choose depending on the type of coffee drink you are making. Then, it also has a timer built in; you just have to select how long. Thus, there’s less guess work this way! Along with the Burr grinder, with the same bundle, I got a bag of partially used ground beans that I plan to use for cold brew, a brand new one-pound bag of Costa Rican whole beans, a brand-new, still sealed electric milk frother (which I’d also been wanting, but didn’t really want to spend money on… even though it only costs at max $10), and a portable tea kettle, which I am planning to re-give.

Of the things I’ve gotten from of being part of this amazing Buy-Nothing group and community, these are most definitely the best and most useful items I’ve ever scored:

  1. Endless toddler/school-age books for Kaia
  2. Swim floaties in multiple formats (all of which have been regifted, other than the current puddle jumper which Kaia now uses and fits)
  3. Baby Bjorn potty for potty training
  4. The Oh Crap! potty training book
  5. The majority of Kaia’s toys, including a dozen Lovevery toys, a massive collection of cars, trucks, Hot Wheels, a very sturdy and like-new yellow dump truck, and Peppa Pig vehicles. Her favorite right now is the big Peppa ice cream truck she actually sits and rides on. I’m amazed it hasn’t been broken yet…
  6. Toddler training knives
  7. Toddler popsicle molds
  8. Two brand-new, full sized Dr. Bronner castile liquid soap bottles, which I use for multi-purpose cleaning. This stuff lasts forever because a little bit goes a long way! We still have 1.5 bottles left!
  9. Burr grinder and brand new milk frother
  10. Chemex coffee maker, with a near-full box of paper filters
  11. Real Pyrex brand liquid measuring cup
  12. Vintage Pyrex mixing bowls – all of varying sizes and different bright colors
  13. Bundaberg ginger beer – of course, these were for Chris
  14. Farmers market GARLIC – eight super fresh bulbs with fat cloves!
  15. A nearly full bag of organic, culinary grade lavender
  16. Organic mushroom matcha

I’m grateful to be a part of this group; I’m also grateful that I’ve been able to off load so many things that we have that we either do not use or no longer need — I’m all for declutterring, helping others to declutter, and also contributing to the circular economy!

Puddle jumpers, pool dates, and arguing over the push of a button

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As part of a Buy Nothing group bundle several months ago, I was gifted a puddle jumper. I actually wasn’t sure what a “puddle jumper” was until I received the item. It’s essentially a floating device for a young toddler that has straps that snap around the child’s back, as well as floaty pieces that you ring through their arms. I figured this would actually be great for Kaia to use when she’s in our building pool. It would also mean that when Chris and I take her into the pool, we wouldn’t have to hold her 100 percent of the time, which would actually be a bit more relaxing and freeing for us.

Today, we had a planned play date at our building pool with a neighbor and her similarly aged son. Two times ago when we saw them, it was actually also in the pool where he had his own puddle jumper on, and it was clear he was obsessed with it. So I figured Kaia would enjoy using it knowing her little friend had one on, too. She was excited to have a play date and was eager to go up to the pool to see her friend. But they were running late, and she didn’t want to go into the pool before her friend arrived. So she watched me swim a couple laps as we waited for them to join us. She insisted she would not come in… and finally I convinced her to come into the pool with me and to put on the puddle jumper. She resisted initially, yelling and attempting to swat me away, but I was able to get it on. And then, when we got into the pool, she was holding onto me with a near death grip, refusing to let go of me and feel herself float. When our friends arrived, the little one was so eager that he stepped down two steps in the pool and jumped right in! It made sense, as his mom told me that they try to take him into the pool (with the puddle jumper on) at least once a week, so he is absolutely obsessed with the water and fearless. At that moment, Kaia got super excited, pushed me away from her, and said she wanted to swim by herself. I guess all the kids really need is some peer influence/pressure, and they will do as they do (which is actually what I wanted all along). Every time she saw her friend jump into the pool, she wanted to jump in again and again with her puddle jumper on.

Eventually, it was time to go, so we all rode the elevator down together. The first floor we reached was ours, and the two kids fought over who was going to push our floor button. Kaia eventually won, which resulted in a huge melt down from her little friend, who buried his face into his mom’s crotch as she laughed hysterically. And as we exited the elevator and said bye to them, Kaia wondered out loud, “Why is Hugo crying? Why?”

It really is the little things with toddlers. And as hysterical and upset as they get, it makes it all the more amusing and funny for the parents to witness.

La Morada – Indigenous Mexican and Oaxacan cuisine in the Bronx

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During the pandemic, Chris and I walked through the South Bronx and attempted to go eat at La Morada, a Oaxacan restaurant that is not only known for serving indigenous Mexican cuisine, but also feeds those in need through The Mutual Aid Kitchen. But alas, we were out of luck: they were actually closed on the Saturday we went. At that time, they were open only during the weekdays. We were able to come back today and enjoy some very chocolatey and slightly spicy mole poblano with the most delicious oven roasted chicken, rice (which was likely cooked in chicken broth, and luxurious black beans. We enjoyed it with a jamaica drink (hibiscus tea) and ended with a proper Mexican hot chocolate. Marco served us; his mom is the chef and owner. It was a warm, homely family-run and owned restaurant. And they were so warm and kind serving us and answering any and all of our questions. Everything about the place took me back to Oaxaca, from the decor on the walls to the open kitchen to even the plates and bowls our food was served in. Unfortunately for Kaia, she didn’t get to enjoy any of the food since she had passed out right before we arrived at the restaurant.

I later read more about La Morada and found out that their family actually has undocumented status, yet they are still so resilient, run their own business, feed those in need, and run a community garden, where they actually source a lot of their own vegetables and fruit. I found it shocking that they’d be so open about this, especially now with the current political climate. But it’s clear that they have guts and perseverance. It almost makes me want to go up there more often just to support them — and eat through their delicious menu, which I’m sure pretty much no other place in New York could replicate, and definitely not at their price points.

Nothing goes as expected with a toddler on an unanticipated car ride home from school

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When I had to go to New Jersey for my work meeting yesterday, I originally planned to do an early morning workout, drop off Kaia at school, then head to Penn Station to take NJ Transit to Morristown. This way, Chris could do pickup at the end of the day. Well, this plan got thwarted when Chris rescheduled plans for mid-afternoon drinks with his friend, who has a flexible work schedule, and he pleaded with me to let him do drop off that day and for me to do pickup straight from Penn Station. Originally, I was annoyed with this given that he sees this friend almost every week for drinks (it sounded pretty desperate, as though this was the one thing that gave his weekly life meaning), but I figured I’d just relent and and pick my battles, and this wasn’t really one of them. He then said that since he knew I was traveling that I could just use the transit card to take the subway down to Chinatown, and then get a work-paid Uber back home with Kaia. I asked him to pack the ride-safe seat belt for her in her backpack for our car ride.

I got back from my workout yesterday morning to find out that somehow, Chris had forgotten to take Kaia to school with her backpack (he said she was being fussy when they left the house). So he packed the ride-safe belt in my work bag… for me to take to New Jersey and then down to Manhattan Chinatown. I was not happy about this, as I wanted to put my purse into my work bag to consolidate my items, and now that bag would be too full; I was just going to Morristown for the afternoon and didn’t want to seem like I was taking the whole world with me. First, I change my planned schedule revolving around work to accommodate his rescheduled beers catch up with a friend. Then, he forgets to bring the one thing she takes to school…

Chris said that since we rarely take a car that it would be a novelty for Kaia to take a car home from lower Manhattan, and she would enjoy it. So when I picked her up at school, she was excited to see me (she didn’t quite understand that when I said I’d go to Jersey for work for the day that I’d be back at the end of the day; she usually associates my work travel with nights away from her). And she was even eager to put on her ride-safe seat belt. She happily climbed into the car. For a moment, I thought… okay, this ride will be fun. But as soon as I tried to buckle her toddler seat belt to the regular car seat belt, she had a total melt down, screaming, crying, kicking, and somehow managed to get down on the backseat car floor, still attached to the car seat belt. Kaia eventually calmed down when I told her that Suma and Topa would be coming back very soon and would see her when we got home. She eventually passed out and ending up sleeping for almost half an hour. We were in the car for over 50 minutes, stuck in traffic.

Things rarely go how you envision they will with toddlers. But I guess it’s always safe to say that you should never expect anything with toddlers and just take things as they come, and try to enjoy them as best as possible since these moments will fly by so quickly, you won’t even know what hit you. She looked so cute in her ride safe belt, and it was really adorable how she so effortlessly slipped her arms into the straps and allowed me to velcro and loop things together.

New Yorkers hate on New Jersey; New Jersey people hate on New Yorkers

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I have a friend who is originally from Texas, but moved to New Jersey when she was in high school and has been there ever since. She’s the only person I know who lives in New Jersey and regularly and proactively loves coming into New York City; everyone else I have met who is New Jersey based (most of whom were born and raised there, as well) avoid New York City completely unless it’s for work; they abhor the mere idea of coming into the city on a weekend or when it’s not for work. She never whines or whinges about coming into the city; she’s always happy to drive in and meet me. In fact, I have only ever seen her in Manhattan; so far, I haven’t gone to Jersey to visit her even once (maybe I am a bad friend, but she doesn’t seem to mind this thus far). No, it’s not just for work, as she is 100 percent remote in her job; it’s because she recognizes that New York City is literally the center of the country (if not the entire universe) for food.

She was hating on New Jersey people the other day and saying how mad she gets with their attitudes of New York City. She said she couldn’t stand how closed minded the average Jersey person was; most of them are born and raised in Jersey and never, ever leave. They don’t even want to go into NEW YORK CITY, she said. How can anyone be against New York City? she lamented. That’s like being against culture, against diversity, against life! She says the only reason she doesn’t live in the city is that she cannot afford it; plus, she’s trying to spend as little money as possible on housing so that she can meet her personal life goal of retiring by the age of 50.

I was shocked when she always wanted to hang out in New York and was so willing to drive to see me. She insisted it was never a big deal; she was used to driving and driving everywhere, so it was just her means to get everywhere. And when I told Chris this, he said it makes sense that she is happy to do this given she’s not originally from New Jersey and is from Texas, where anyone and everyone need a car to get around, and that’s just what life is there.

I thought about this during my day trip to Morristown, New Jersey, today, for a customer meeting. I basically spent all afternoon in a popular suburban town. It has an upscale, small town feel. Before my meetings, I met up with a local colleague who was attending the meetings with me, and we caught up over coffee. This colleague, who I get along with really well, is like one of those New Jersey people that my friend complains about: born and raised in New Jersey and unlikely to ever leave; rarely travels to see new things. He loves to nudge me every time I chat with him and ask when I am moving to New Jersey with my husband and daughter. And I always smile and say the exact same thing:

“Nope, no plans to ever move to New Jersey. I think Chris would much rather die. And I think I agree with him.”

New York City laws for food establishments regarding restrooms

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As someone who admittedly has to pee fairly often (well, I do consume over the recommended amount of water per day), I always prefer to patronize establishments that have restrooms. Typically, if you are going to a sit-down restaurant in New York City, you can pretty much be guaranteed a restroom. With cafes and bakeries, though, this is very much on a case-by-case basis; it’s never a guarantee, and the vast majority of them will not provide a restroom for customers. So the rare times when I do find a restroom for customers, like at the popular bakery Almondine in Dumbo (likely one of my all-time favorite almond croissants, plus their hot Valrhona chocolate is more than worth it), or Paper Sons Cafe (a relatively new, family-owned cafe with excellent coffee drinks) in Manhattan Chinatown, I always appreciate it so much. And when I share these businesses with other people, whether it’s in public reviews or just by mouth, I always make sure to highlight it. It’s just a really big nice-to-have for a smaller establishment like a cafe or bakery. It ultimately just shows kindness and empathy to the customers who are frankly keeping you in business.

So you can imagine that I was pretty annoyed when I found out that a Japanese restaurant that had opened in East Village last year called Okiboro House of Udon, had no restroom. I was shocked. You’re charging $23 a bowl for udon, and you cannot even be considerate enough to your customers and have a bathroom? For the first 6-8 months when this place first opened, I was constantly seeing it all over social media; it had lines around the block and waits of 2-3 hours. People would just stand there for hours on end to sit and eat there for 30-40 minutes and leave. I knew I wanted to eventually go once the hype was over. So my pregnant friend suggested that we go there for dinner tonight; neither of us had ever heard of Himokawa style udon before, and we obviously had never had it. Unlike regular udon, with its fat and rounded noodles, Himokawa udon is a traditional, wide, and flat udon noodle that is known for its smooth, chewy texture and is often served hot or cold with a dipping broth. I said we could — but only if we went right at open time to avoid any potential wait. I warned her, especially given she’s pregnant, that it didn’t have a bathroom, but she said she could go to a cafe nearby after where her friend works, and she could use the restroom there. For her sake (and well, partly mine), I checked the latest Google reviews to see if they had added a bathroom. Unfortunately, we were out of luck: all the latest reviews still noted and complained about the lack of restroom. The owner kept responding to the reviews noting the lack of restroom and saying that because the restroom they had was only accessible through the kitchen, customers were not allowed to go through the kitchen to use it given that violated NYC health code. So, they could not allow customers to use it.

I felt like this was a total cop out, and frankly, it’s just bullshit. They would have known this was a law before deciding to lease the space and take over it as a restaurant. They could have easily incorporated a restroom into the design of the restaurant while it was being constructed like every other restaurant does. They’re making an excuse for something that they were just too lazy and cheap to do. I went to look up the local health code laws, and I found this out: If a food service establishment has 20 or more seats and opened after 1977, it must provide a toilet for its customers. I quickly counted the number of seats in the small space that is Okiboro House of Udon: those bastards — they have 18 seats! It’s like this purposely did this just to avoid having to build a damn bathroom that was accessible to customers!!

Was the food good? Yes. Was it good enough for me to want to come back given all the other incredible food establishments across New York City, plus the fact it lacks a basic bathroom? No.

The hype has died down. Okiboro House of Udon — good luck to you.

Strength training before cardio or cardio before strength training?

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Unless I was heading to an outside gym for a class at a set time, when I do my workouts, I usually have always done cardio before strength training. For me, strength training can be anything from weights, pilates, or barre. The logic I always had (that I had heard from others) was that you want to increase your heart rate and get your muscles warmed up before you go into the strength portion of your exercise. However, I’ve noticed that a lot of people at my building gym do the opposite: they start with their strength training, and then they end with a run, elliptical set, or a fast incline walk. I started reading articles about this and realized that there’s really no right or wrong way to go, but what is generally accepted is to at least have a 5-20 minute cardio warmup before your strength set to still get your muscles and body ready for movement. I actually did this today: I did 15 minutes of running, then 30 minutes of strength, followed by another 15 minutes of running. And when I did my second run, I actually felt more energized and like I had more power in my muscles on the treadmill! It was a really good feeling, so I think I will likely continue this approach.

I will say, though, that since I run on a treadmill, that approaching workouts this way is a little annoying from a maintenance standpoint because if I touch the treadmill on two separate sets, that means I have to use the cleaning wipes twice on the treadmill instead of once…

Handmade with love – ceramic mugs flown in from Seattle

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As someone who spends a lot of time thinking of what food to make and then making the majority of foods she eats at home from scratch (or near scratch), I have always deeply appreciated homemade, handmade things. Aside from food, I used to scrapbook a lot before Kaia was born. I also regularly handmade cards for holidays like Christmas and Valentine’s Day. The rare times I have been given handmade things, whether it was jewelry, cards, and Kaia’s hand-knit and crocheted clothes from Chris’s mom and cousin, I have always marveled that someone would actually want to spend their time and energy hand making something for me (or my child). We live in a fast-paced, fast-everything world, where people seem to value cheapness and mass production over unique, hand-crafted things now. Even the platform Etsy, which historically was founded as a marketplace for unique, one of a kind handmade items made by artisans, has now been overtaken by mass producers in China, Korea, and other parts of the world, touting the facade of uniqueness and artsiness.

Today, I received a package of goodies from a friend in Seattle. It included a few things she got Kaia and me on her recent Japan trip, as well as Rooted Fare black sesame butter (which I’d been wanting to try for ages), and something I was not expecting at all: two unique, handmade ceramic mugs her husband had made at their pottery studio to which they have a membership. While I love and appreciate all the gifts, I couldn’t help but stare at and move the ceramic mugs in my hands multiple times. As soon as I saw them, I was about 90 percent sure they’d made these at their pottery studio, so I texted her to ask. She confirmed that she actually did not make them, that her husband made them, since she was taking a break from pottery. I knew she had been going to a pottery studio, and I was floored that they’d actually share things they handmade with me. I just felt really touched.

I guess it’s my old-fashioned side, but I really don’t think people appreciate handmade items much anymore. It’s easy to look at these mugs and not be impressed; you can get aesthetically pleasing, reasonably priced (or exorbitantly expensive) mugs anywhere and everywhere now. But the special thing here is: I know these were handmade by friends of mine, and they chose to give these to me. And for that, I am grateful. They’re giving me a gift that they actually made with their own hands, and with their precious time. Their time that they put into these mugs is a gift.

And as an added bonus, they’re dishwasher safe! So I am definitely planning to use these regularly now.

Kaia’s caterpillar worries

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After 17 years of living on my own, not in my parents’ house, and no longer in college, I have finally found the optimal way to store basil to keep it fresh for as long as possible: place the stems in a tall glass with some water and position them like they’re a bouquet. Then lightly drape a plastic bag over them. Replenish the water every day, ensuring that none of the leaves are submerged. Somehow, with this process, I was able to keep my Thai basil stems fresh for seven days; on day 7, they looked like they were just as fresh as on day 1!

The basil I had was so fresh that somehow, for seven days, a little caterpillar was able to rest and stay alive on its stems that long. I didn’t even catch it until today when I was replenishing the water in the glass, and I found that the caterpillar was crawling off a stem on my kitchen counter. I immediately looked at it, realized what it was, and then told Kaia to come look; I wasn’t sure she had ever seen a real caterpillar before. The only “encounter” she’d had with a caterpillar was in Eric Carle’s famous book, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, which she loves and has read on repeat for the last two years. When she came over to look at the caterpillar, she examined it closely and started smiling. Then, Kaia ran into her bedroom, grabbed her copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, and then brought it over. She held the book next to the real caterpillar and said, “They aren’t the same!” I told her that they weren’t the same, but they were, in fact, moving the same way.

A bit later, I told her we had to release the caterpillar outside to make sure it got some food and could be free. She waved “bye bye!” to the caterpillar as I released it into a bush. We went about our day outside.

Later that evening, after we had finished bedtime stories and I tucked her in, I kissed her good night and left her room. About an hour later, she slowly opened her bedroom door and had a sad face.

“What is it, Pooks?” I asked her. “What’s wrong?”

Kaia hesitated for a second and then whispered, “I want to know what happened to the caterpillar. Is it okay?”

I brought her back to bed and tucked her in once again, and I assured her that the caterpillar was doing just fine. I’m sure he had something to eat and was probably also getting ready for bed, as well, as all living things had to sleep.

She then did her “side eye” thinking face and said in Chinese, “Does he also need to shower and brush his teeth?”

Yes, I said, I’m sure he does his version of both.

She smiled. “Okay. Good night, mummy! Bye bye!”

My sweet, caring Kaia Pookie. Her empathy and thoughtfulness never cease to amaze me as it appears in different forms. I imagined her lying in bed for that last hour, worrying about the little caterpillar friend we had set free almost 10 hours before. It was so sweet. Her innocence always warms my heart.

Grandparenting in the current era

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The Atlantic recently wrote a piece about how “grandparenting,” or specifically, “grandmothering” is on the rise. When they say this, what they mean is that active parenting by a grandparent, mostly a grandmother, has increased notably in recent times due to the shortage of reliable and affordable childcare, soaring costs of living, and the mandatory need given the soaring cost of living for dual-income households in the U.S. This has made parents of the current generation apply more pressure on their parents to help raise their own children. This is most definitely something I see across a majority of parents of a similar age to me: most of my friends with kids have a parent look after their child(ren) for at least 1-2 days a week, without them there. We have a friend whose in-laws not only pick up their two kids from preschool at 2:50 every weekday, but also take them overnight two nights a week; those same grandparents take the two kids to Michigan during the summer where their other son and his children are — for two months; that is two months that my friend doesn’t see (or have to parent) his own children, time he gets to himself and to himself plus his wife. These grandparents play an active role in their grandchildren’s upbringing, not just having fun with them and getting to know them inside out, but also being a second set of parents to them.

I was thinking about this today as I watched Chris’s parents struggle to wrangle Kaia around, whether it was on the sidewalk, on the street, or in stores. A couple times I told Chris’s dad to walk with Kaia, and as per usual, he would barely hear me, and Kaia would run off on her own without him even noticing. In the end, I’d have to run off after her. In other cases, Chris’s mom struggled to run after her to keep up, and Kaia succeeded at keeping her grandma on her toes. Back when Kaia was in her diapers era, Chris’s dad wouldn’t even want to be in the room when a diaper change was happening; Chris’s mom would only do it if Chris or I wasn’t there. During their very first visit to New York after Kaia was born, when Kaia was about five months old, when I was working from home and Chris was at the office, and they were meant to babysit while our then-nanny was on vacation, Chris’s mom would come into the room when I was working and announce that Kaia needed a diaper change. The implication here was that I needed to stop what I was doing to change her diaper since I was there (who cares that I was actually working… since I was, you know, at home?). Now that Kaia is potty trained (but still isn’t equipped to wipe herself or wash her hands without assistance), neither of them has offered to help with the potty visits, either during our visit to Australia in December, or now. Granted, they aren’t used to being around her all the time, definitely are not used to helping someone during potty time, or seeing exactly how much she loves to run around and be cheeky, but they could in no way keep up with her. I am positive that if they had to look after her for even one day a week on their own, they’d likely leave her in their own house so they wouldn’t have to worry about the threat of getting lost in a store or, in the absolute worst case, the chance of getting hit by a car or bicyclist.

Chris’s mom always used to tell friends, family, and us that if we lived in Melbourne, she would have loved to be a full-time care taker to Kaia once we went back to work after family leave. But the thing is — you can certainly assume you want things in theory, but in practice, it’s never as simple or easy as it seems in your head. In theory, lots of things sound nice. In real life, it’s a completely different story. As we all get older, our physical and mental abilities get more limited. We tire more easily. We have less energy. And frankly, there just may be less stamina to run after a boisterous, rebellious little toddler than you had originally assumed.