A few days ago I was leaving the gym which just happens to be the most hoppin' place in town (ah, New Year's resolutions). It was freezing and I was quickly trying to get Winnie in her car seat but she was resisting with all her might. As I fumbled around, I noticed a woman in the car right next to me. Crap, I thought. She's waiting for me so she can open her door and go inside. Finally, I closed the car door, smiled sheepishly, and mouthed the word "sorry" to her. When I settled into the . . .
The most interesting conversations with my kids happen in the car. There's something about that uninterrupted time on the road that inspires us to talk more openly about things. A few weeks ago, I asked Harper what makes her afraid. I expected all the usual 7-year-old answers: spiders, monsters, the dark. But without skipping a beat she said, "I'm scared of edges." "You mean heights," I corrected her. "You're scared of heights." "No, I mean edges," she said in a firm voice. "I can go up . . .
I love how Lorae gives us all the things we want and reminds us of what we need: easy ways to give back this holiday season, tangible reminders of the places we love, breaks from reality one belly laugh at a time. This holiday season—and always—I am grateful to have her friendship in my life. And, of course, her amazing finds. Thanks, Lorae, for a wonderful (and funny!) Company Memo. Commemorate: Paper Cut City I am always looking for unique gifts for people to commemorate a moment . . .
I am beginning to pack and plan for our Chicago trip with Maddox next week, and am making sure to not forget how COLD it is going to be. And windy. So even though I've got a festive number for our main event (H A M I L T O N!!!) I am trying to be practical about the rest and bring warm, cozy pieces. This makes me grateful that I bought a pom-pom beanie earlier this fall. Cause that thing is toasty and just plain cute. If you haven't snagged your winter hat yet this year or if you need an update, . . .
PSA: Moms and dads of 3- and 4-year-olds, you are going to blink and wake up to a pre-teen. It happened to me. Today is Maddox's 11th birthday and I am seriously wondering where the last decade + 1 year has gone. At 11, I observe more of my daughter as an adult than I do as a child. Sure, there are still the moments of playfulness and whimsy, but more often than not, I see a young lady trying to navigate and understand her emerging adolescence. That girl is quiet on the drive to school, stays in . . .