There are certain advantages to having a child who a) is still in diapers and b) can still be crammed in carrier, one of which is the ability to take said child to completely child-unfriendly events. Not that the Art Book Fair at PS1 was unrated-G exactly (other than maybe the porn-themed booth and all the smokers outside), but it certainly wasn’t all that relevant to the 1-and-a-half-year-old world. It was crammed full of intriguingly-clad people who had probably never seen a child before (just kidding, I saw a couple other little buddies getting dragged around with dazed expressions), perusing tables of expensive and pretty books with a few arty squiggles on each page. I mean, Baby Brother they were not, but it was somehow nice to be reminded that people are out there being creative. In print, no less!
I was also reminded of the early days of Harper’s babyhood, when we’d stick her in the sling or carrier and go to readings and gallery openings and restaurants at all hours. Listen, if you have a tiny baby, let me tell you — it really is easier now! You have to find places to nurse, if you’re doing that, but you don’t have to pack nine varieties of snack. You have to bring ninety diapers, true, but no toys or books, really. When the baby sleeps anywhere, anytime, there is no squeezing activities in between naps and meals. And I realize that outings will probably difficult in a new way when the kid is too big to be strapped into a stroller but too little to have much endurance, and will have to find a bathroom every three seconds.
After patiently riding around on Daddy’s chest for a few hours, Harper was released into the playground, er, gravel courtyard, where she had a grand old time running from one concrete wall to the other and commanding our friend Doug to follow her. City kids! I don’t know — maybe it was terribly enriching for her to be around so much art, or maybe it registered to her as a glorified round of parental errands — but I was aware the whole time that such a trip would be impossible from probably the ages 3-6, and that we should take advantage of her current portability. Does that sound awful? Oh well. “G train!” she shouted on the way home. “Brookwin!” And that was darn cute.