I was talking to a girlfriend (hey hey, Voxer) last week about email discipline, specifically the art of not “checking in” throughout the day. It’s a slippery slope: you hop on your phone to peek at the weather, and then you find yourself “checking in” on Instagram, Twitter, your email account. You click on that
You guys gotta see this! Ken calls. Bee and I are dancing in the laundry room, a morning ritual we’ve fallen into. We play this song, and another, still another, she twirling her stuffed puppy or baby hedgehog or that odd Halloween decoration she’s been sleeping with. Me moisturizing my elbows, applying concealer. Mascara. Coming!
I’m still here. (Thank you for your kindness.) Still here with the scooping of formula, the rocking, the swaddling, the diaper-changing. The apple slicing for Bee, the tying of shoes, the playing of Uno. These hands haven’t made their way to a keyboard in a long while, and for that, I’m uncharacteristically content. But I
“You have almost three dollars!” I tell her. We are sprawled on her bedroom floor amidst blocks and books, stuffed animals and blankets. Loose change is stacked into tidy piles at our feet – quarters, nickels, dimes, pennies – mountainous treasures to my 4-year- old daughter, Bee. “I am ready to spend it, Mom,” she
In case you missed it on Instagram… last week, i tried to text my mother in law while cooking omelettes and knocked the salt mortar all over the floor. we’ve been fishing himalayan grains out of our toes for days. both dogs are after the floorboards like wild deer to an abandoned salt lick. the
Cardboard box rockets. // When your mother-in-law visits and helps with the laundry while secretly questioning whether or not the newborn is offered enough visual stimulation – boom – you get an impromptu baby mobile in the dining room. // My new byline for Hello, Dearest friends. // A tiger mask attempt for Halloween turns
What did I do in India? you ask. A whole lot of unlearning. — The short of it is this: I traveled to Jaipur with my incredible friend Carly at Tribe Alive to check in on a design project with the fine folks at CAUSEBOX. (More on that front, obv.) The long of it is
‘A wooden doll gone headless, a fork and a slew of dominoes walk into the bar…’ In other words, Bee has learned the art of “cleaning up.” // This man takin’ the night shift, over and over, without complaints. #MarriedUp // The current state of my nightstand, and my friend Shannan’s book that’s been working