Tag Archives: parenting

Yesterday’s misadventures.

First up, a photo that has nothing to do with anything. It’s just something nice to look at while I go free association about yesterday’s misadventures.

yesterday's misadventures

THINGS THAT HAPPENED YESTERDAY:

In the order which they occurred… I think…

  • Nicky snuck a half-eaten banana into the dyer while I was unloading laundry.
  • I woefully underestimated the timing for our morning routine and had to forgo a shower (but figured I’d sneak one in mid-morning #lol #no).
  • Immediately after we dropped Grace off at her summer program, Nicky fell and cut the back of his head badly enough to need stitches.  
  • He was such a champ.  I was a wreck.
  • While he was getting tended to (and squirming a bit), I somehow ended up with surgical glue on my face.  Apparently it will come off in 5-7 days.  Can’t wait for that.
  • I drank an iced coffee and cried in my car. (Hi again, caffeine.)
  • We made it back from urgent care in time to pick up Grace (and I exhaled for the first time in over an hour).
  • No luck on the shower.  But Jesus cranked up the humidity, so… poodle hair.
  • Speaking of poodles, all five of us (Grace, Nicky, Clark, his cone and myself) went to the vet.
  • The vet took one look at our motley crew and called for back-up (this literally happened), as if having an additional vet tech in the room would prevent my children from attacking or eating dog treats or… something.
  • Clark’s most recent bad luck (a scratched cornea) isn’t healing and will likely require surgery.
  • I called Nick (for, I think, the 5th time of the day).
  • I cried in my car again but this time I pretended to be fake sneezing (my kids love fake sneezing and I’ve never been above a cheap laugh).
  • We bought matching sweatshirts for the family (it seemed like the right thing to do).
  • I found the aforementioned banana.
  • We survived.

Once both babes (and Clark) were safely tucked in bed and the house was quiet, I sat at the kitchen table for two entire hours.  Just breathing.  I barely noticed how dark it was until I sort of came to, wondering if I should be searching for additional bananas.  If I’m being honest (which I endeavor to do, obvi), this is not the first banana/laundry incident we’ve had… this week.

 

Days like yesterday are memorable because they almost never happen (thankfully) and because they serve up gentle reminders of all sorts.  

A reminder that we have so much (excellent healthcare, reliable transportation, a generous and kind support network, clean clothes, plenty of bananas, a Frenchie who promised to live forever, and the resources to manage all of this).  A reminder that I need to take care of myself in order to best take care of others (no more staying up ’til 2 AM reading about shipwrecks #reallife).  A reminder that there is power in laughter and tears and tears disguised as sneezes.  A reminder that children are resilient and brave, even if their behavior is also terribly risky and awfully terrifying.  A reminder that quiet time is rarely wasted time.  A reminder that even (or especially) as a mother, it is important to be vulnerable and receptive to help.

I hope your yesterday treated you well.  And that your today did too.

Also On Tap for Today:

What gentle reminders are you serving up (or being served)? And who wants to watch You Got Served with me?

 

Gloomy ‘tudes + sunny dispositions.

Has it rained every Tuesday this year?  It seems like it.  

gloomy tudes + sunny dispositions

I’m one of those people that pretends to be even keeled, but the weather, man… it gets to me.  I wonder if this is fully science (a need for vitamin D, or whatev) or something we learn as we age.

I spent a good chunk of the day checking Dark Sky (likely my most used app #nerdalert), trying to do math (do I have enough time to get the baby out and into the running stroller, actually go running, factoring in route + speed/lack thereof, and make it back for preschool pickup before the next downpour?)… and mentally complaining.  None of this was especially helpful.

We got home from school and made it 1/29th up the length of our driveway (such is the pace of life these days) when the skies opened.  It was one of those rainstorms that’s over in seconds, but leaves you (and all the art projects you’re holding) soaked.  You might be able to guess my immediate reaction (and if not: it was to silently swear), but you’ve already seen how Grace and Nick reacted.  

With pure joy.  

The weather can ruin your mood.  It can ruin your day.  It can foul up your plans.  And it can foul up your I-look-chic-but-in-that-I-didn’t-try-kind-of-way outfit.

But it can also give you a puddle to jump in.  It can entice worms from where ever they usually are (who knows), so you can closely inspect them.  It can bring forth that inimitable spring rain on blacktop smell that makes me glad to live in the city.  It sustains plants (and all the things that plants sustain… like people).  And it can make my two babes laugh and squeal with utter delight.

But it’s not just the weather.

How many things weigh us down as adults, but with a simple shift in attitude, could be appreciated with the wonder and joy they might deserve?

Perhaps we can unlearn our gloomy grown-up attitudes.  Or at the very least, get some cool raincoats and enjoy the storm a bit.

Also On Tap for Today:

Are you walking around with a gloomy ‘tude or a sunny disposition today?

April 2017 | Currently

This is what life feels like at the moment, as I realize May is less than a week away:

  • Press 1 if you’d like time to slow down.  
  • Press 2 if you’d like to time to speed up to the part of the day when both kids are asleep and you can hear yourself think.
  • Press 3 if you have no idea what you want.

Now imagine me pressing 1-2-3 over and over again on the imaginary keypad of an imaginary phone.  Basically, that’s April in a nutshell.

april 2017 currently

APRIL 2017 | CURRENTLY

Currently enjoying

currently april 2017

  • What I’m calling a gentle return to consistent running (as gentle as things can get while pushing the beast that is a double running stroller).  No pressure, just getting out there.  Granted, I am registered for a few upcoming races, but in the interim, I’m enjoying getting back in the groove.
  • A turn for the better, weather-wise.  We spent this past Sunday visiting the baby animals (including two lambs that were only 3 days old!), checking out the plants, and enjoying a picnic lunch at Ward’s Berry Farm in Sharon (about 30 minutes from the city).  It’s remarkable what good weather and fresh air can do.  Like, it practically makes me a nice, normal person.

Currently watching

currently april 2017

  • Nick and Clark follow each other around, looking for adventure.  And snacks.
  • This Heineken ad, which seems like a masterful foil to Pepsi’s faux protest nonsense.
  • The last few episodes of The West Wing.  I must have inadvertently and magically saved them for times like these.  Imagine if CJ was Press Secretary in real life?

Currently reading

currently april 2017

Currently listening to

  • An old Ben Folds playlist. Nick and I danced to The Luckiest as our first dance at our wedding, and I think I played it thirty-seven times this week.  Grace asked me to turn it off all thirty-seven times.  Whatever, kid. Also on the playlist: Still Fighting It, Fred Jones – Pt. 2, and Philosophy… that intro always makes me wish I could jam on the piano. 
  • A whole slew of podcasts.  Current favorites: Pod Save America, With Friends Like These, Body Kindness, From The Heart: Conversations with Yoga Girl, Call Your Girlfriend, Wait Wait… Don’t Tell Me!, Up First, and Book Club Appetizer.  I’m also looking forward to DeRay Mckesson’s new podcast, which launches next week.  I’ve all but sworn off TV news (I can’t quit political rantings on Twitter, however… old habits), and find that a lot of these podcasts fill the void nicely.  Without driving me insane.  

Currently feeling

currently april 2017

  • Grateful for moments of solitude here and there, not to mention a loving + supportive family.  I found this piece of “almost sea glass” (in cobalt glass, no less) while taking a solo beach walk at the Cape towards the beginning of the month.  It wasn’t sharp enough to worry about someone’s safety, so I’m certain the right thing to do would have been to throw it back into the surf so it could become actual sea glass… but I kept it.  In a lot of ways, I’m feeling like the human version of somewhere between almost sea glass and actual sea glass.  As I shared in an earlier post, this month has felt like a real time of transition.  Having quiet time to reflect has been really good.  Life is amazing and strange and weird and wonderful.  Also, if I write a memoir, please talk me out of titling it “Almost Sea Glass: The Elizabeth Story.”  And more importantly, talk anyone and everyone out of publishing it.
  • Excited for the next few weeks.  Full schedules, full hearts, can’t lose.  Or whatever they used to say on that football show. (JK…Friday Night Lights was the best.)

OK.  Time to turn into sea glass.  Or maybe, like, put on real pants.

Also On Tap for Today:

  • All about Comic Sans (aka the font that burns my eyes) from The Guardian
  • Painting “magic beans” with Grace (in reality: they are seeds we found on the sidewalk and maybe this isn’t the safest idea… but regardless, we are painting them with sparkly neon paint)
  • The Benefits of Solitude from The Walrus

What has been the highlight of your April?

 

 

The next season

The older I get, the more I notice the way life really does follow its own seasons. Some seasons are for celebrating.  Some seasons are for learning. Some seasons are for waiting.  Some seasons are for grieving.  Some seasons are for growing.  And some seasons are for sitting on the beach sipping fruity beverages.

Fruity beverages is sort of a ridiculous, but semi-on target way to transition to this: I stopped nursing baby (toddler) Nick 9 days ago.  Oh, but this isn’t a post about boobs… so don’t panic (or sorry to disappoint). Considering I nursed Grace until a month before Nick was born, I’ve essentially been breastfeeding since the end of January 2014.  This feels like the end of a huge part of our lives, mostly because it is.  It has been wonderful, challenging, weird, exhausting, and amazing.  I am grateful I was able to have this experience with both kids.  

And now I am ready for the next season of our lives.

the next seasonObsessed with these shoes by Toms… and these shells by Mother Nature

I took a long walk by myself along the beach this past weekend and found myself thinking about what I hope for this next season to bring.  I bought a $1.99 notebook (the cover’s a really ug shade of yellow, but it’s all they had) on the way back to the house and started making a list.  

THE NEXT SEASON

In this next season, I want to invest more fully in my own health and wellbeing.  I want to sleep more (which isn’t saying much, since I am basically always awake).  I want to take more walks on the beach. I want to relish in alone time, without feeling guilty (real talk: it’s a careful balance).  I want to be better attuned to my own common sense and good judgement and rely less on scary headlines and unhelpful advice.  I want to spend as much time playing outside as possible.  I want to enjoy those little flashes of independence both kids share every now and then (it’s like watching them becoming themselves over and over).  I want to revisit some of the things that used to bring me joy, but that I stopped making time to do.  I want this next season to be for connecting and reconnecting and resting and recharging.  

And I want to find the perfect pair of cool mom jeans.

Also On Tap for Today:

What’s your current season looking like?

 

Currently | February 2017

February is wrapping up.  And no, it’s not a leap year.  Consider this a friendly PSA that my birthday is basically moments away (March 1st always seems to sneak up on people).  I’m not always so clear on how timezones work, but I think I’m already 35 on the other side of the world.  Meanwhile, Grace keeps asking if I’m 45 yet.  So there’s that.  

But I don’t want to rush February out the door just yet.  Despite the country imploding, I’m grateful we had things like my nephew’s baptism, Valentine’s Day, the Patriots winning the Super Bowl, Hillary’s message to the people and 70 degree weather to celebrate.  We left our jackets at home and walked on the beach.  We spotted the first plants sprouting.  Spring is coming.

CURRENTLY | February 2017

currently february 2017

Currently eating

  • …like summer has already arrived.  Tacos, tomatoes, salads and strawberries.
  • …dinner with Nick most nights after the kids go to bed (as opposed to snacking from the babes’ plates at 5 o’clock).  It’s been such a nice change.

Currently watching

  • So we watched like 5 minutes of a PBS special featuring various spy cameras disguised as animals, both because it sounded cool and it was not about the government.  The idea is that you get to see animals behaving as if they were not being spied on.  Unfortunately we caught the part where the baby monkey spy camera fell, and the real monkeys thought it had died and were, like, mourning.  It was devastating.  Did I mention that I am generally an emotional basket case?
  • Superstore + Homeland (they sort of balance each other out)
  • 900 “how to sew” YouTube videos 

Currently reading

Currently making

  • …plans for a meaningful Lenten exercise.  In the past I’ve given up Diet Coke, snacking, sugar and swearing (but not all in the same year… I’m neither a saint nor a martyr).  Other years, I’ve added more prayer, more intentional acts of kindness and more time away from technology.  For me, Lent is the ultimate lesson in patience.  In waiting.  In remaining hopeful.  Perhaps I’ll simply meditate on that lesson.  While not drinking a Diet Coke. 
  • A set of mini, mono-printed art journals.  It was a random Tuesday night project, but I am thrilled with the results.  I’ll share photos later this week.
  • A “good behavior” jar.  I am semi-mortified and semi-amazed at how well it’s working.  (To clarify: We are rewarding Grace’s good behavior, not mine…)

Currently listening to

  • “Call on Me” (Ryan Riback Remix) by Starley — it’s the perfect windows down in February song
  • Call Your Girlfriend (podcast)
  • This Irish Flute & Tin Whistle playlist on Spotify… baby Nick and I had music class this morning and the teacher broke out his tin whistle (apparently we missed the Irish flute last week).  Nick was mesmerized in class and keeps dancing and clapping along to this lively mix.  I think it’ll do wonders, too, for those times we are nearrrrrrly home and one or both kids is starting to nod off in the car.  

I hope you’re enjoying these last bits of February and looking forward to a lovely March.

Also On Tap for Today:

What was the highlight of your February?

Things to do in January

I don’t know about you, but putting away the holiday decorations nearly does me in every January.  The gloomy weather and a cold I can’t seem to kick (kids and their germs, I tell ya) aren’t helping.  

Winter Elizabeth is a lot less fun than Summer Elizabeth.

things to do in january

Semi-related: Winter Elizabeth somehow lost one of her children’s birth certificates. Not my finest work.  Hence, baby Nick and I made our way to the registry office at City Hall today.  As much as I would have rather stayed home, curled up on the sofa with a blanket and a book…

  1. One-year-olds don’t do that.  They just don’t.
  2. An object in motion stays in motion… while staying put is a great way to lose momentum.  And I’d already lost the birth certificate, so…

I couldn’t help but brighten up a bit as we approached City Hall, though.  I love the juxtaposition of old and new less old buildings.  I like seeing tourists milling about. I like the buzz of it all.  

Once we finished the grown-up business part of our outing, I figured we may as well embrace a bit of adventure, too.  We were bundled up and had plenty of snacks, why not?

mother juice unicorn blood

We split a cup of Unicorn Blood (yes, really… it’s a delicious mix of beet, carrot, celery, watermelon + pineapple) from Mother Juice at the Boston Public Market, walked along the Greenway and did some people watching at Faneuil Hall.  A little adventure was the perfect antidote to my winter mood.

matthew hoffman greenway art

So good, right?  Click to learn more about MAY THIS NEVER END by artist Matthew Hoffman currently installed along the Greenway.

For me, keeping busy (especially with good, fun, interesting things… not just boring, necessary things) goes a long way in keeping the winter blues at bay.  In that vain, here are a few things to do in January.

THINGS TO DO IN JANUARY

  • Get outside for a walk to improve your mood + overall health.
  • Take an art class. (Creative Bug is my favorite source for online classes– I gravitate toward the painting and drawing classes, but you’ll find really accessible courses on knitting, sewing, collage, drawing, etc.)
  • Or take a yoga class.
  • Join in a day of service on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.  You can find projects in your community here.
  • Put together a new playlist (Stevie Wonder on repeat here currently).
  • Celebrate an obscure January holiday (I’ve got big plans for National Popcorn Day on the 19th… mostly, my plans involve me + eating popcorn).
  • Unpack your holiday decorations.  No one can deny the magic of twinkle lights.
  • Ride the subway (i.e. the T) sans pants… or don’t. 
  • Spend an afternoon at a museum.  The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum and The Clark Art Institute are my (Massachusetts) favorites and I’ve been dying to take the kids to the Children’s Museum.  
  • Refresh your walls with some new (or DIY) artwork.  What you look at all day matters, obvi.
  • Get outside for another walk.

P.S. While the acronym SAD is sort of laughable, Seasonal Affectedness Disorder and winter depression are no joke.  Please don’t be afraid to seek help if you need it. <3

Also On Tap for Today:

What’s on your January to do list?

Nick’s 1st Birthday

Today is baby Nick’s 1st birthday.  

In the fastest, most wonderful year, he’s traded this hat:

Nick's 1st Birthday

for this (ridiculous, but I couldn’t help myself) hat:

Nick's 1st Birthday

I love this beautiful, curious, adventurous, and sweet boy with all my heart.  

Also On Tap for Today:

Are you a hat person?

Labor Day | The second time around

On Labor Day two years ago, I shared Grace’s birth story (still hate that expression, still love becoming a mother… obvi). Today marks the first Labor Day since baby Nick was born and he’s exactly 9 months old today, so this seems as good a time as ever to reflect on the day we welcomed him to the world and to our family.

labor day birth story

Waiting until Labor Day was sort of a convenient excuse for me to take nine months to digest, reflect on and embrace those sort of bizarre, sometimes anxious, but ultimately amazing 24-ish hours of labor. And because all people and pregnancies and labors and deliveries and babies and postpartum meals (peanut M + Ms for life) are different, I’m sharing less about what actually happened and more about how I remember things.

labor day birth story

My hair is full of mom secrets.

Because the second time around, you have an experience to compare things to. You have expectations (even if you know you shouldn’t). You sort of feel like you know what you’re doing, but you also know you’re not a medical professional (unless you’re a medical professional). You’re a little bit further removed from the childbirth classes (regardless of whether you paid attention… or if you, like me, left the room for fear of being grossed out and read pamphlets about influenza in the hallway). You know what it feels like to have that baby placed on your chest for the first time. You just can’t imagine how your heart could get any more full.

I don’t want at all to sound like, Oh… I’ve done this before. I’ve got it under control. (If anything, it’s quite the opposite.) Or that I am in any way better equipped as a parent than any one else. I also think it’s important to express that families come to be families in any number of ways. All are good. And there is no better place for a child to be than in a loving family.

labor day birth story

So back to those influenza pamphlets. There was an aura of blissful ignorance about me as I delivered Grace. I didn’t want to know any more than I needed to know, and because I had no experience—personal or otherwise (this is very real: I fainted during sex ed in the 6th grade and again in 9th grade biology… and then skipped the video during our childbirth class mostly so I could remain conscious)—it was relatively easy to trust the process. To surrender to labor. To let my body (and Grace) do its thing.

In the days before Nick was born, I knew he was coming. He was allegedly two weeks early… but given the fact that he is nine months old and already the size of a Buick, I’d be less surprised if you told me he was two months late. Right around Thanksgiving, I woke up every day thinking, this is it. And it wasn’t. Until it was.

I had planned to take Grace to see the fox at the Trailside Museum (they have some sort of special connection) on a Friday morning, but my back felt especially achy and I remembered I needed to pick up Clark’s prescription (honestly… why are these the things I remember? Imagine what powerful thoughts my brain could harness if it forgot about ridiculous things like phone messages from the vet?), so we headed to Castle Island for a walk instead. After a loop or two, I called our midwife.

labor day birth story

She called back just as I was getting to the vet. So I was the super normal person talking about being in labor while sitting in the waiting room next to a man cradling his sick cat (it might have been healthy, I know even less about cats than I do childbirth… so, I know literally nothing about cats). In essence, she told me to leave the vet’s office and come to, like, the human doctor’s office. I remember thinking how weird it felt to be in public, and knowing I was in labor. Should I warn people? I don’t know. (I should warn my husband, I decided. Yes. That was a good call.)

While I waited for Nick to get home and for my parents to pick up Grace, I chatted with our neighbor, who is a former cop. He told me he had delivered six (maybe it was four) babies in his squad car. All he needed was a blanket. I mostly hoped it didn’t come to that. I thought for sure I’d need more than a blanket. For starters, I wanted one of those peanut-shaped yoga balls. Also, medicine. And a sanitary environment.

labor day birth story

This is sort of how the next 15 or so hours would unfold. I knew baby Nick was coming. I knew it would be soon, but I didn’t know how soon (more than 15 minutes, but less than a day… that was my guess). I knew I was uncomfortable, but I also knew I could manage.

Nick was born at a different hospital than Grace, and I had to consciously remind myself to trust the process despite everything feeling very unfamiliar. We stayed in triage from 10:30-ish that Friday night until finally getting a delivery room around 3 AM. During that stretch, we had to listen to all kind of things through the thin curtain dividers. And other people had to listen to me throw up and make groaning noises. For that, I am sort of sorry.

When we were finally moved to a room, I got wrapped in warm blankets and spritzed with lavender water by a particularly kind nurse. She turned on the hospital’s equivalent of the Nature Channel and encouraged me to be “soothed by Earth’s beauty.” Not normal, per se, but I kept telling myself to trust the process. To surrender.

labor day birth story

During morning rounds, the midwife on duty said baby Nick would be born that day… which seemed like an awfully big window. She told me to relax as much as possible, and encouraged grown-up Nick to grab coffee. I worried that the baby was hearing the crashing waves, cawing seagulls and distant foghorns from the nature channel and thinking “This lady’s trying to give birth to me in the middle of the Atlantic. I should stay in until she finds dry land!” No sooner had she left the room than we were pressing the call button to have her and the labor and delivery nurse hightail it back.

Less than 30 minutes later, baby Nick’s tiny, perfect, warm body was pressed against mine. My husband was kissing my head, tears streaming down his face. And everything, everything, everything was right.

And really. That’s the only part of this story that matters.  (I probably could have skipped the part about the cat at the vet, but I believe in setting the scene.)

So much of becoming a parent and becoming a family is unpredictable. It’s messy. It’s strange. It’s uncomfortable. It can get real weird, real fast. It’s anxiety producing. And once you are that parent, and you are that family, it doesn’t get any easier. Your heart lives outside your body, vulnerable and exposed. You worry. You cry. You stay awake for, like… ever. Some days you forget to put on pants because you’re too busy pureeing organic kale.

labor day birth story

But every day, you trust the process more and more. You embrace surrendering as not only something very good, but something (to quote Salt-n-Pepa) very necessary. You remind yourself that the best possible place for child is in a loving family. And you’ve got that covered.

Whether you’re sitting on a beach soaking up the last waves of summer, or cradling a newborn in your arms (like my beautiful and amazing sister!), or somewhere in between… Happy Labor Day.

Also On Tap for Today:

What’s your best tip for getting through the messy days, or savoring the heavenly moments?

The next Serial | Imaginary podcasts

I love a good podcast.  And I love pretending I have the technical know-how, requisite storytelling ability and captive audience to manage a successful podcast of my own.  But um, I have none of the above.

the next serial podcast ideas

I do have some ideas, though.  A whole notebook full of ’em.  And they’re free for the taking.  Just please make sure, if you do go ahead and develop any of these ideas into the next Serial… let me know.  So I can subscribe.  Oh, and maybe let me do the MailChimp ad that will surely kick off each episode.  Cool.  Thank you.

THE NEXT SERIAL | IMAGINARY PODCASTS

Idea 1: Mystery Store

You might have one (or more) of these stores in your town, you might not… but you probably do.  The signage is sort of murky.  Maybe the store is called Jim’s or ABC America or Real Deal$  (for the record, I made these up, so if your store is actually called any of these things… sorry.  I’m especially sorry if you used a dollar sign instead of an ‘s’ to spell the word deals.  Really $orry.).  

Or perhaps there’s no sign at all.

Maybe the store presents itself as one thing, but you kind of get the sense it’s another thing entirely.  Like, you swear you’ve seen people walk in for a haircut and walk out with an electric keyboard.  Or you notice a bunch of not-so-gently-used baby strollers out front, but the advertisements hanging in the window feature a “catch of the day” special.  

Okay, so I’ve set the scene.  The way this podcast works is simple, if not a tiny bit dangerous.  You identify a store that fits the criteria outlined above.  You enter the store, poke around a little (while describing the things you’re poking so your audience feels like they’re in the trenches with you, obviously), maybe act interested in something specific.  When you’re finally approached by a salesperson, you engage them in some friendly banter and then BAM!  You hit them with the million dollar question(or maybe $7.99 question, all depends on the store, right?): 

OK.  But what do you realllly sell here?

It’s anyone’s guess where the episode (and frankly, your life and safety) goes from here.  Exciting, right?

Idea 2: Conversations from the floor

This one is inspired by the 2 year-old in my life.  She seems to be spending an increasing amount of time on the floor.  Sometimes she’s kicking.  Sometimes she’s crying.  Sometimes she’s looking for an errant cheddar bunny under the sofa.  

Toddlers are really, really funny.  This doesn’t always translate in the moment (tantrums can be really upsetting for everyone involved, and I don’t mean to make light of what seems to be an important phase of child development… except to say that we sort of all need a sense of humor to survive).  But they’re funny, nevertheless.  

Just this morning, I had the following conversation with Grace:

  • Grace: Mom.  Mom.  Mom.  Mama.  Mommy.  Mom.  MOM!
  • Me: Yes, honey?
  • Grace: Mom.  Mom.  Mom.  MOOOOOMMMMM.
  • Me: Do you need something, or are you just saying my name?
  • Grace: I’m saying your name.
  • Me: OK.
  • Grace: And I need something.  I need a reflection light.
  • Me: Can you tell me what a reflection light is?
  • Grace: I need it.  
  • Me: I don’t know what it is.  What do you use it for?
  • Grace: I need it to look at trees at nighttime.
  • Me: Can you tell me what it is again?
  • Grace: I said it.  It’s a reflection light.
  • Me: A flash light? (lucky guess)
  • Grace: Yes.  I told you.  Please, you’ll get me one at the store today.

Actually, maybe this podcast is more of a quiz show.  You guess what the H a toddler is talking about.  And if you’re correct, the toddler’s parents give you a handful of slightly moist Cheerios that they found between the seat cushions in their car.  

Idea 3: The Pregnant Shopping Cart Impulse Shopping  Why Am I Buying This? Title TBD

I’ll happily hand this one off to any currently pregnant moms.  Or maybe we can cast a wider net and call it Impulse Shopping.  Whoever grabs this tasty snack cake of an idea can sort of the details.

I came up with this one while nine months pregnant, carefully placing my organic produce on the belt at the grocery store check-out when… What’s this?  Six bags of sour gummy bears?

I’d be lying if I said things like this only happened when I was pregnant, but I believe my impulse shopping was especially cool, weird and interesting when I was expecting.  

And if you choose to stick with the pregnant lady angle, maybe this podcast could have a sort of public service element whereby you educate the masses on what you should/should not say or do to pregnant women.  Like in episode one, you could (genuinely) complement a mother-to-be for looking so radiant.  You ask her how she’s feeling.  You respond kindly and enthusiastically and non-judgmentally to any details she shares.  

You don’t say things like “Whoaaaaa!  You’re about ready to POP!”  Or assert that you’re positive there is a “secret twin in there.” (And yes, these are things strangers said to me when I was pregnant.)  And maybe you make a point of announcing into your micro-cassette recorder (Or does it all happen on your iPhone? I don’t know.  That’s why you’re making the podcast, not me.) that you are not touching anyone’s belly.  You’re just not.

Or…. maybe you just stick to interesting impulse purchases.  Or maybe you empower a toddler to make impulse purchases in a mystery store.  Yep.  That’s going straight to the top of the charts.

Also On Tap for Today:

  • Not buying a reflection light
  • Catching up on Oh My Gouache! videos
  • Homemade snacks for summer road trips from Whole Foods Market

What’s your favorite podcast?

 

 

 

May 2016 | Currently

It took nearly all month, but the sun is shining and the temperatures are more May-like than November-ish.  So we’re eating ice cream dairy-free sorbet (I’m like, Live a little.  And my stomach is like, Please don’t.).  

Welp, anyway…

currently may 2016

May 2016 | Currently

Currently feeling

  • Grateful for improved weather – that cold, rainy stretch we had earlier this month made me feel positively… negative.
  • Happy that we got to see my extended family this weekend at my cousin’s wedding down the Cape!
  • A bit itchy.  I don’t want to rush nature along and I know trees need their leaves and all, but I wouldn’t mind coming home from a walk or workout and not feeling like I’m wearing a pollen sweat suit.  Or whatever.
  • Proud of my first post-baby 5k with the double stroller and excited for the next race.
  • Relieved (speaking of itchiness) that Clark’s vet referred us to a dermatologist who’s helping us get his allergies in check (hopefully).  We started his immunotherapy injections last night, and I feel like an especially weird dog person, but these are the things you do when you love your aging, semi-grouchy, fully-sensitive French bulldog.  
  • Like I need a new big project or goal or challenge to work towards.  But maybe I should just put away last week’s laundry.

Currently eating

  • Lots of vegetables and fruits and sprouted things.  Not so many nachos and pizzas and processed things.  Girlfriend needs to reign it in a bit.  
  • Aaaaaand the aforementioned lemon sorbet.  With rainbow sprinkles.  Just do it.

Currently listening to

  • The Bon Iver radio station on Spotify — it’s extra chill, which is good, because I am extra not.
  • Catching up on episodes of On Being + Leslie Stahl on Wait Wait… Don’t Tell Me!
  • Grace sing “Ring around the rosie, a pocket full of rosies!”

Currently watching

  • The OJ miniseries (that’s definitely not the official name, but you likely know what I’m talking about… and you also know I’m too lazy to Google)– I was skeptical when my parents recommended it (sorry!), but Nick and I got completely sucked in. 
  • Daily Drawing Challenge and How to Design Fabric videos on Creative Bug

Currently reading

Currently making

  • Not much of anything art-wise… but I just signed up for a new painting class (Mary Ann Moss’ Oh My Gouache — totally obsessed with the name) and started a new large format sketchbook earlier this week.
  • A batch of these gluten free cranberry and dark chocolate granola bars each week – so delicious, so easy.
  • Lots of baby food — Grace loves to help me feed Nick (almost as much as Nick loves being fed).  It’s so much fun.
  • Plans for the summer.  I can’t wait.

May the last few days of the month treat you well… get it… May…?  Right.  Cool.  Bye.

Also On Tap for Today:

May highlights?