We have happened upon a new family activity: watching movies from our childhood.
I think it may have started around Halloween. We got into a kid-spooky movie watching zone, which resulted in Tyler introducing the boys to Ernest Scared Stupid – which of course they loved.
Fast forward to today, and we’ve now watched cartoons like Disney’s Robin Hood (oh the little turtle boy), Cool Runnings (Sochi Olympics tie-in), and my personal favorite so far – Newsies (I basically karoked every song while Tyler shook his head).
Really, it’s my new favorite thing (that everyone should try). Tyler and I get to remember movies we loved but haven’t seen in forever, and the boys are so willing to watch them all. And, hello, popcorn.
Last Sunday we watched Life is Beautiful because Mason has been doing a semester on World War II and the Holocaust, and he has been reading a lot of books about it. They’ll even do subtitles!
Gathering ideas on what to show them next…
Lately Milo has been talking about downward dog and other phrases I cannot recall at the moment. And it has now dawned on me: my 9 year old son is now more proficient at yoga than I am. This is not a hard feat because I have done yoga a total of… wait for it… zero times.
I know, I’m basically blaspheming my exercise life away. I read this book of essays last month and I swear that is all women do in New York.
To make matters worse for my outcastish ways, I don’t really care to start yoga. I am a totally believer in the “don’t knock it ’till you try it” mentality – but it just looks so boring (and I cannot even begin to comprehend doing it in a sauna-like environment). Yes, people who do yoga are amazing, I get that. I basically stared at this Instagram account all day yesterday. But do I feel the need to earn flexibility through a snail-paced exercise class in a room that rivals a summer day in the city? I would rather… I don’t even know. I’d basically rather do anything. Like do a million burpees and leave flexibility to my childhood days.
I feel like I have to lie to Milo about all this though. What sort of respectable mother would he take me as if I told him I had to google search downward dog to see what it looked like? (For the record, I was pretty sure it was that triangle thing before I googled).
Really though. I just don’t get the appeal.
I spend a lot of time
shopping researching for work. And I’ve learned a secret about finding things I love (and obviously need) that I probably shouldn’t buy. You know, those times when the purse is equal to a month’s rent. Or all those cat things you want, but know should not be in your wardrobe in excessive amounts.
Most of the time Continue reading
I found these on Behance, and, well, they’re pretty amazing even though I have no idea what they are. You can see more here.
Tonight marks the first night that Tyler and I have been apart for our whole (almost one year!) marriage.
Now, before you think I’m going to get all sentimental or something, I would like to point out that I have replaced his freckly self with a mug of hot chocolate and popcorn – so really, there’s no sadness here.
I am feeling a little emptiness though. How can I really get through a night without someone parallel laptop-ing by my side until bedtime? And who is going to elbow me in the eyeball while I sleep?
Such are the trade-offs of growing up enough that someone trusts you to take business trips, I guess.
Well, I’ve always known Milo to be a quietly stubborn individual. About a week ago I would have mostly prided myself in the fact it probably came from me. But this weekend he proved just how stubborn he could really be. And Tyler proved just how [sneaky] fatherly he could be in return.
It all started Saturday night at dinner, when I dished out a single piece of eggplant for both Mason and Milo to try (something we do quite often with new food). Fast forward to the end of the meal where Milo is being coerced to eat his eggplant with talk of video game exclusions – to no avail.
So Sunday afternoon when we got home from church we decided he should try the eggplant again. So began the Milo stand-off. From roughly 3:00 to his bedtime at 8:30 he stood at the kitchen table staring at a single piece of eggplant on a fork. Even when I told him he could take one bite and not finish the rest, he still refused to eat anything.
Well, parenting 101 had not prepared us for this level of food refusal, so we were a bit at a loss. Would he really just skip every meal and stand at the table refusing to eat this one bite of eggplant forever? If we give in now will he learn he never has to really listen to us? Should we just cut it up really small and sneak it into the tuna sandwich we’re packing him for lunch?
I’m not sure about the first two questions, but the third answer is yes.
So what did we learn from this? Probably some lesson between Milo liking eggplant in his tuna, and us realizing the teenage years might not go as smoothly as we had hoped.
Also, that Tyler is an awesome dad-partner to have around.
(hello, funny eggplant book & a video I couldn’t stop thinking of while writing this)
I live in constant fear that I will buy a decoration that looks completely horrible in my house. The bigger the item (or larger the price tag) the greater my fear. I think this fear comes mostly from the fact I’m innately attracted to bright, somewhat quirky decor (see above picture I took from a magazine of a chair I totally wish I could have). So mostly my worry is that nothing will match anything else. And then I end up living for 3 years in an apartment with mostly white walls and multiple floors still searching for a rug.
I look at pictures of people who have amazing homes, with bright eclectic things, and I wonder what makes them so special [cough... professional designers]. So three days ago I decided that from here on out I’m going to buy everything that beckons me along it’s fine feathery (gold crusted, rainbow painted, awkward ceramic-d) wings. Because what better way to make my house properly reflect our life?
Then today I watched this and I thought – sure her house is amazing because she is Sarah Jessica Parker, and sure it is WAAYYY bigger than anything I’ll ever imagine to live in within New York. But look how she has pictures and all sorts of stuff all over the place and shoved into every bookshelf and crevice basically. And a ping pong table?! Who would think to put something like that in that space? But I basically love it. I think it was meant to push me into my crazy buy-whatever-I-see phase with extra gusto.
PS. I have not yet informed Tyler of this decoration breakthrough of mine…
PSS. If anyone reading this happens to know how I can morph my future crazy purchases into something that looks lovely and not crazy, I would welcome the suggestions (or spray paint for the weird objects I bring home).
Mason is 11 and Milo is 9. These ages, coupled with the fact they had a week off in February, created the perfect storm for a Florida adventure: 1. We figured before long (possibly next year) Mason will lose interest. 2. When they have off school one of us has to take off work anyway. 3. February seems like a time for shorter lines. 4. Winter in New York was getting brutal.
So off we went. Flying to Florida late into the night. Landing at 11:00 pm to discover our rental car company had closed for the night and all the rental car companies at the airport were booked. (chalk another one up for our travel adventures!)
Two hours (and one taxi ride) later we were at our hotel, happily eating McDonald’s chicken nuggets and agreeing to switch our morning plans from amusement park to beach day.
Are you totally ready for the enchilada of pictures? Don’t worry. I’ll write between so you can pretend you care about the details too. Continue reading
Do you ever feel like you’re wearing the wrong clothes? Like you somewhere along the way stopped really looking in the mirror and simultaneously lost the ability to dress yourself? I feel like that happened to me the other day. My go-to look was not doing it’s magic. And I had a mini clothing breakdown. Because, really, I don’t think I can survive without button-ups and cardigans.
Then lately I’ve been secretly obsessing about tops. The flowy (not silky) ones with pretty prints. But what if this is a misdirected obsession. Maybe I’ll buy them all and then realize one day they are a horrible look with my brown hair and short legs.
You know what else I’m digging? Everything that looks like it belongs in Bali.
And also kimono tops. I know, I don’t go to enough music festivals or brunches in Brooklyn to pull those off.
I guess the only realistic solution is to throw away the mirror and march along with oblivious confidence. (I already bought the Zara top at the store the other day, so it’s too late to turn back now.)
Speaking of looking good, have you seen this website? It’s worth the click, it has cats.
One of Milo’s friends just moved apartments, and we were talking about it walking home from school the other day and the mom says, “We just took our big trip to Ikea, but it seems like there’s so much we still need.”
And Milo responds, “We get most of our furniture out of the garbage.”
Eek. But partially true.
Not that we’ve gotten all of our furniture out of the garbage. But one of the things I find crazy about New York is the amount of furniture that gets thrown away. Not sold on Craigslist, not donated to a charity, just set out on the curb to be smashed by the garbage truck. Although I do agree that many items deserve the garbage truck demise, there are so many things that are plenty useful.
It all started with a dresser. Then a wooden chair (which still needs a proper cushion). And yesterday I found this.
My most exciting find yet. Plus I carried it home about 10 blocks, and I thought my arms might fall off. But seriously, look at the legs on that thing! So my favorite.
Really all I need now is a nice nightstand, and maybe to teach Milo the correct phrasing for our finds: Sometimes we find vintage furniture for free.