The Art in Life

Have you ordered your Christmas Cards yet?  Please tell me no so I feel better. And if yours are ordered, addressed, and about to go out- just don’t ever talk to me again, ok? My brain has fired at a lower setting since Henry was born, and even though I swear every year that I will be more on top of it… I’m not. But we did recruit our friends to take some pictures right before Thanksgiving and we have this gem from them:

Babies in flight + fall foliage + primary colors + hats with antlers = my personal heaven.

Moving on.

Even though I wrote a bare bones birth story- I love reading them. Fran just wrote hers and it is hysterical. I will forever be grateful for the advice she texted me shortly after Henry was born and I was curious about recovery, warning me simply to resist the urge to break out a mirror.

This article is more than a little traumatizing. It encourages me in my desire to teach Henry good sleep habits, but it is also a good reminder that sleep is not the only gauge of parenting:

“This is parenting, then: trying and failing and reaching and missing and sometimes getting it right, and always loving.”

And speaking of sleep – is it normal to go to bed at the same time?

Though my current schedule is so wonderfully flexible, I think a lot about balancing work and home, and this was an excellent reminder of the need for empathy, and its impossibility.

I love following Humans of New York on Instagram and their recent series of posts from Macomb County  have been extra good.

One time I read a novel that described the main character making pasta in such detail, that I tried to follow the fictional description and make my own. It was a disaster and I haven’t tried to make pasta since but this is tempting me to try.

I am obsessed with every last thing about this house– even the goats. I mean, especially the goats.

In January we are going to get serious about health and do another Whole30 and I am pumped to do a slight variation of this salad.

Cyber Monday sales! I love Kiehl’s and but they usually are so expensive that I restrain from purchasing them- even if they are made from fairy powder and unicorn tears. I love that they are giving all sorts of freebies away today and used it as an excuse to finally restock in a couple things I love. I also hit up the sales from Gap, Old Navy, and H & M to get some stuff for Henry’s 6-9 month wardrobe, which was pretty sparse.

That’s all, save one more photo from last week- because he’s six months old now, and James informed me that this means we are 1/36 of the way to him moving out of the house and I just about DIED.

In case you are a longtime reader of this blog and you were on the age of your seat just waiting and wondering if the major life changes of the last year would preclude is from our annual donut making EXTRAVAGANZA- fear not. I tried to figure out some way that we could have the party at 11 am and in a park, as that is a prime moment for babies and toddlers, but it proved impossible. Instead we decided to have everyone we know and love in our apartment, with their babies and toddlers, deep frying things in hot grease at the exact moment when all tiny people were losing it. Because what more do parents want than for someone to hand their bedtime-flaunting 2 year-old a donut and a bowl of spiced sugar?

Other than the promise of donuts, the Friday that we held the party was a really bad day at the end of a really bad week. Henry was weathering the terrible waters of teething plus a schedule that just couldn’t recover from Daylight Savings Time, and he had inexplicably cried most of the day, refusing most naps and wearing through every last shred of patience I possess. I was so haggard and tired and angry, and James had a crazy week at work and he came home to find me still in pajamas, trying to make donut dough that still needed to chill, frantically trying to clean because it was the first time hosting a big party in our “new” apartment, and just losing it in general. It is really hard to get yourself, your home, and some food ready when there is a tiny person who is over it – and you don’t even know what “it” is.

James jumped in and tried to get Henry to take a power nap to make up for all the ruined naps that day while I tried to finish up everything and in the process, I knocked an entire gallon of cider off the counter to have it explode. Cider in the rug. Cider on the floor. Cider on the table. Cider everywhere, approximately 20 minutes before the party started. Obviously I did the mature thing and started sobbing in the middle of the kitchen and announcing that the party was canceled, followed by angry sobs of don’t you dare cancel it because I have done SO MUCH WORK. James rightfully assessed the situation and jumped into action, strapping a screaming Henry to his chest in the carrier, and mopping the floor while kicking me out of the kitchen to put on actual clothes.

It’s funny, because when I look back on last year, it seems that a very similar pre-donut disaster befell us, and I wonder if I will ever learn that the people about to pour into our home do not care if my hair is done, the centerpiece is perfect, or even if their feet slightly stick to the floor because the cider took a couple rounds of Swiffering to clean up. I love the joy of extending hospitality under perfect circumstances and I love giving the gift of a lovely and clean home and polished hostess to people who pass through our doors. But it’s not always possible. Sometimes there are crying babies and ruined plans and myriads of little disasters that befall us.

In the end, in spite of any disaster, there were full bellies and tiny sticky hands decorating donuts and detracting from the sticky floor. There were people sitting on every surface with no space to notice that I didn’t get to making a centerpiece. There were donuts and toppings and old friends who turn up every year to celebrate my love of fried carbs.

So even though I swore moments before the party that the following year we would just decorate donuts I bought at Krispy Kreme… I’m pretty sure that next November will find me once again frying up dough and throwing open our doors for the people who make our lives ever sweeter by braving the disaster to come inside.

PS: Years 1, 3, 4, 5. Year 2 is buried so deep in the archives even I can’t find it. For the second year in a row, Anna hand lettered our sign – thanks Anna! This year we made these again, though I decided halfway through that, while I prefer yeast donuts in general, homemade ones are better cake. I retired our standard pumpkin ones in favor of these and they will be returning next year. I also decided to exclusively do donut holes next year, as they prove the best vehicle for toppings.

Let’s talk about food, as it is one of my favorite things. Henry happens to agree:

If he is this excited about oatmeal cereal and the occasional bite of smashed avocado- just wait until he discovers cake.

The other night I made a particularly tasty dinner and James announced that fall food is where my cooking really shines.* This might just be because fall usually inspires me to take a delicious hiatus from clean eating, whereas winter demands some rounds of the Whole30 (gearing up for one in Jan already!). But I think it is universally true that fall food is awesome. You have such a bountiful and beautiful selection of produce, there is a chill in the air that makes food taste extra good, and it just seems like the right time to gather those you love around the table for a feast.

I wanted to share some of the fall recipes from around the web that I return to, partially so you can enjoy them, and partially so that I have them all saved in one place. Some are mine, some I actually haven’t tried yet but want to, all are warm and hearty and make you want to tuck in for a bit.

Blackbean pumpkin soup– I leave out the ham and tomatoes.

Kale, raisin, walnut salad.

I have my eye on making this gratin this weekend.

Butternut squash toasts. In case you couldn’t tell- there’s a Smitten Kitchen devotion in our home. And a toast devotion. And a butternut devotion, in constant conflict with my loathing of peeling and slicing the things. My SIL made these recently and I have been craving them since!

Kale and sweet potato salad.

Ok, really just kale everything – like chicken and with pomegranates too. (Ever since the Whole30, I’ve been making the kale chicken with less cheese and almond meal instead of crumbs, and I genuinely think it’s an improvement!)

Grilled sandwiches with brie, bacon, Honeycrisp apple, and jam. Or cold ones on crusty baguettes with brie, turkey, apple, and Dijon.

Any Trader Joe’s seasonal item, with a special love for their soups (carrot ginger!), gingerbread, and pumpkin items.  We are also devoted converts to their fire-roasted frozen veggies, adding them to pretty much anything and everything.

Pumpkin gooey cake

2-ingredient pumpkin muffins.

Pumpkin ravioli (we love the TJ brand!), tossed with peas, bacon, Parmesan, and browned butter.

I have always been too intimidated to make chicken and dumplins, but Neena has me thinking I might even try it.

Crockpot fajitas. (Not super fall-ish, other than being easy and hot and from the Crockpot.)

What are some of your favorite foods for fall? Bonus points if it is inexpensive, and can be assembled quickly or in advance or prepared by my personal chef, aka the Crockjpot

*Before you get any lofty notions that I just prepare delectable feasts every night for James to gush over, just know that we are staunch supporters of the Trader Joe’s frozen food section, lovers of canned green beans, and we totally had to throw away the lunch I made on Sunday because it was repulsive.

Making : Breakfast taco’s. So easy, so good- so obsessed.
Cooking : Trader Joe’s soups.
Drinking : Coffee, and loving how excited it makes me for cool mornings.
Reading: Just finished Zola’s Au Bonheur des Dames.
Wanting: Thanksgiving and Christmas and snow and eternal fall, all at once.
Looking: At these pictures of Henry on the playground from a couple weeks ago and wondering when that scrawny newborn turned into a giggle baby with chubby cheeks.
Playing: This game every time we get a table full of people.
Wasting: [more like wasted] Way to much time picking out wrapping paper today. I know it doesn’t matter, but I love picking out paper for Christmas gifts.
Sewing: Mostly I just leave this one on these lists so that I feel shamed into actually sewing buttons back onto the things in my mending pile.
Wishing: That somehow an extra day would appear in this week where we could go hiking as a family to enjoy all the fall colors.
Enjoying: The way that Henry laughs at the weirdest things, like me doing squats, which makes me do so many that my legs are sore by the end of the day from squatting for my baby.
Waiting: For all the library books I requested from all over for my dissertation to slowly trickle into my greedy little paws.
Liking: All of the Ikea Christmas decorations, because I love the Swedish Ski-Lodge aesthetic.
Wondering: If Hamilton will actually live up to all the hype when James and I finally listen to it on the way home for Thanksgiving.
Loving: UberEats- because hellooooooo date night on the couch with fancy food!
Hoping: That we find someone soon to take care of Henry for the spring… the searching and interviewing and reference-checking just makes me sad that I have to miss a single moment of how sweet he is right now.
Marveling:  At how deeply entertaining talking to my nonverbal infant is.
Needing: More sleep. Forever and always.
Wearing: These jeans on repeat. Obscenely priced, but I saved my pennies and waited for a sale and they do dark voodoo for post-baby baby belly.
Following: This Instagrammer, because her sketches of baby life are perfectly accurate.
Noticing: The wrinkles and lines that are forming across my face. The way that Henry sticks out his tongue when he smiles.  How fast the days go.
Knowing: That I will someday look back on this stage, where we have siblings close enough to oversee Henry’s first time down the slide, and remember it as one of the best times of life.
Thinking: About the election last week, about what it means for our country and what our country meant by it.
Feeling: Like the task of teaching Henry right and wrong is going to be really hard, but I can’t imagine if any parent, at any time, has ever thought it was easy.

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I’m going to just continue beating my obnoxiously loud drum over here and declaring that living near your adult siblings is the best thing ever. I will never quite know how we managed it, but we live 9 hours from both sets of our parents… and yet have one brother and his wife on our street, another brother in the neighborhood, and another brother and his wife just a couple hours away.

Last weekend we headed to Charlottesville for a quick visit to Zach and Liz. [What’s that? You wanted the links back to their wedding? So glad you asked – here and here. ]  Since sleep-training Henry, we have loved the ease of traveling with him. Because he is our true car-seat-hating urban baby, we bathed and fed him Friday night, and then tucked him into the car-seat instead of his crib. There was a brief period of resistance at first, but his firm bedtime kicked in and he passed out, leaving James and me to enjoy a ride of conversation and podcasts, rather than baby screams.

Charlottesville is just the prettiest town, and it has some of the best orchards. I went to Carter Mountain a couple years ago, but this was James’ first time. James and I have very different approaches to apple picking. For him, it is simply that – apple picking. For me, apple picking is more of a metaphor for “bask in autumnal concepts and eat donuts.” There were probably more pictures taken than he would have liked, but we did pick enough apples to snack on and consumed some quality donuts, so I’m calling it a win. Henry also got to gnaw on an apple after I chewed the peel off (such a mom thing!), and he could barely contain himself from the excitement. I guess when you’ve had nothing but milk and oatmeal cereal, an apple would be truly exciting. You will see below when we tried to take the apple away for him to have a photo with his aunt and uncle and he was NOT PLEASED.

But enough words- on to photos!(Side note: Can someone explain to me how we are supposed to be tucking in our shirts these days? I see the full tuck, half tuck, side tuck, and I am confused. Explanation with photos please.)“GIMME BACK THAT APPLE.”- Angry Hank. Our return trip was slightly less tranquil, as it fell during the Witching Hour of Certain Screaming instead of the Bedtime Hour of Powerful Sleep Drive, but we survived. And I would do it again in a heartbeat for a sunny fall day picking apples with my favorite people.

Henry turned 5 months old a couple weeks ago and y’all- 5 months is the absolute best age. I know that I will probably say that at all sorts of moments throughout his childhood, but I really, really, REALLY mean it right now.

There are so many people who tell you to “enjoy every minute of the ________ stage.” Especially when he was a newborn, people would tell me that when I bemoaned the sleepless nights, constant feeding, etc. They are right about some of it, and there are some aspects of those sleepy early days that I miss. It felt so confining at the time, but when they are newborns, you aren’t perpetually worried about throwing off nap schedules or bedtimes, schlepping them along wherever. They are squishy and tiny and fit just perfectly against your chest… but they are also so needy and unpredictable and terrifyingly fragile. People tell you that to encourage you, but sometimes it sounds like a prison sentence, if they tell you that when you are having one of those rough, sobbing-while-you-bounce-the-baby, sleep deprived,  I just need a break and won’t get one for the next 18 years sort of days. And that’s pretty much always when someone tells you that. Not only do you have to survive something difficult — but you are a bad mother if you don’t enjoy it.

5 months is so much more fun. I really enjoy him now, not just love him. He laughs and engages, plays and expresses opinions. He is discovering things, like how to blow bubbles in his oatmeal cereal, or how to trill his voice. Every discovery is THE BEST THING EVER to him and watching it is THE BEST THING EVER to us. He is ticklish, less breakable, enthusiastic, and still has zero problems with us passing him off to anyone else, which means other people get to enjoy 5 month-Henry too. He can entertain himself just long enough for me to complete simple tasks, but still isn’t mobile enough to really fight back if I need to stick him somewhere longer to get something done.

And he is so, so, much easier than 4 months. I’m not sure how it seems so much different than even just a couple weeks ago, but it’s like something clicked at 5 months, and he sleeps better, is happier when awake, and generally more pleasant to be around and take places. There are still lots of hard moments, but I’m not sending panicked texts to James begging him to come home early anymore. I don’t hold him and weep while I try to rock him to sleep or take a shower so I can cry in peace because it is just hard. I don’t second-guess every single decision, and am more capable of having a day of losses without it ruin me. And yes, I know that as recently as about a month ago this baby had me at my wits end. But a month in baby time is an ETERNITY. He is a totally different baby who has already taught me to be a totally different mom. If it sounds confusing to talk about such difficulty, when I have shared so many happy moments on here or on Instagram, just know that neither is false. For me at least, those early baby months were some of the highest highs, punctuated by some of the lowest lows. Moments of total elation punctuated by feelings of utter failure. 5 months feels so good partially because it feels more consistent, more stable, like I am less likely to be derailed by one rough day, rough hour, rough moment.

I haven’t really done detailed updates about Henry at each month on here because it seems like some things are better kept private and I’m still sorting out how much to share about him on this blog. I am totally fine baring my soul about what it means to be a mom, but I try to balance how much of Henry’s life gets shared. But I do want to remember all that is happening. Every couple weeks, I type and save a letter about what he’s doing, how he’s changing, sleeping, eating, liking, etc. I usually end up flicking back and reading some from the early days too, marveling at how he’s grown. I reread my struggles from the earlier months, letters that talk about sleepless nights, issues with milk supply, tears, but tiny triumphs too. It is a joy to read of him changing as a human, but also me growing into the role of being his mother.Those letters are impossibly precious and better private.  But I did want to throw a quickly share a 5 month post to mark the fact that 5 months is so, so good. If you are wading through those exhausting newborn weeks and feeling annoyed when someone tells you to enjoy something that is really hard, let me tell you:

5 months is coming. And it is awesome.

[Note: Henry owns bear suits instead of coats, which means that this winter will pretty much be one long costume party over here. I am totally ok with this.]

I’m sure you were just holding your breath and hoping for an entire post of Henry as a baby elephant, weren’t you?Live to serve, that’s the motto over here.

Halloween for a baby is kind of pointless. It’s not like he can eat candy, much less walk door to door. And even if James had let me shamelessly amass mountains of Reese’s on Henry’s behalf, I really don’t need to consume piles of candy.

BUT COSTUMES.So much of having a first baby seems like it is about endless clothing changes and a deep and abiding compulsion to wear all the tiny outfits. If you follow along over on Instagram, you know that I just can’t stop dressing Henry like a tiny bear to go outside. I call it practical (no need to fetch hat, shoes, gloves, etc, when you can just slip into a whole bear suit!), James calls it obsession. Whatever it is, I was thrilled to force Henry to become a tiny member of the animal kingdom for a day… or several, as I just keep on making him wear it around before he grows out of it.Friday night we hit Hilloween, the street festival in Eastern Market where all the area school’s have PTO booths selling tasty treats. It’s basically the yuppiest of Halloween festivals imaginable and I loved it. I was especially warmed by the willingness of so many father’s to dress like giant snowmen, the Olaf to their toddler daughters’ Elsa’s and Anna’s. I scoped out some good costume ideas for next year and we made sure to get pictures with Henry and his best friend Ava, who was a lion. The children were less than enthused about photos by that point, but we persevered. On Monday night we made sure to hit the Pretzel Bakery, where everyone in costume got a free pretzel. Henry generously shared his with me, as he is sticking with a mostly liquid diet for the moment and keeping a careful eye on his figure. We wandered down East Capitol Street for awhile and I was thrilled that a) so many houses went all out in decorating for the kids, including a house that did their entire gardens as Hogwarts, car-in-the-trees, floating candles and all and b) lots of kids were actually trick or treating. It seems like Halloween is more and more of an adult holiday, one that Americans spent more on in 2012 than the presidential election that year. I miss the days when I was a kid and I rummaged up a Halloween costume and went all over town with my friends, coming home to engage in a vicious battle of candy bartering with my brothers. I was so happy to see the streets packed with kids, most of whom were in the innocent sort of costumes I grew up with, rather than the bloody disturbing ones.Henry didn’t make it out for long, losing an elephant foot (paw? hoof?) in the process. But for a brief while, he was the tiniest elephant, taking on Capitol Hill, and I was the very happiest of moms, even managing to snag a couple pieces of candy on his behalf.

A couple weeks ago we had a really rough week around here. Henry had a couple nights of awful sleep, and then I inexplicably had a couple nights of terrible insomnia, and our babysitter was out of town so I tried squeezing work in all the little spare moments throughout the week instead of my concentrated two days. The result was escalating exhaustion, tension, and anxiety that finally exploded in a massive Saturday morning sob fest. During one park date where I was so tired,  and I told my friend Anna that I was sucking at being a mom that week. She corrected me to point out that I was only sucking at enjoying being a mom. So true.

On the whole, I would say that we have been doing pretty well over here since Henry’s arrival-thanks in large part to the buckets of help extended by our near and dear. But a couple weeks ago? There was definitely a couple days where I was not, not, NOT doing ok. I hate that feeling, that slipping-out-of-control-too-tired-to-function-weepy feeling, but it did prompt some constructive reflections on what wasn’t working in our lives, what needed to change, and what little things made days better. I took a couple weeks off blogging (what?? You didn’t even notice?? Ouch.), which I rarely do, but it seemed the healthy and wise thing to invest time elsewhere. I’ve been reveling in these best practices over the past couple weeks, keeping them around me like a buffer from rising stress and they have helped – even in the miss of busyness and travel. In the spirit of the life hacks I shared last spring, here are the best practices of now.
Go back to what really worked. After Henry was born, I felt that it was impossible to lay out concrete goals for every day, because who knew WHAT the day would bring, whether naps would happen, etc. My beloved notecard system seemed out of touch with our current reality. But things change, babies grow, naps evolve and stabilize, and I realized that I needed to go back to that system to be more productive and avoid getting overwhelmed with tasks coming later in the week.

Constant Nesting. Everything in my life is better when my space is pleasant. One night I went to Target after Henry was in bed and spent way too long browsing, and way too much money purchasing, candles. But you know what? Lighting pretty candles around my home on gray days and in the evenings makes me love being here more. It soothes me, makes me look forward to hunkering down and working. I vacuum every other day, keep things tidy, and have flowers or seasonal decor from time to time, because I know that my mind reflects my space and if one is cluttered and ugly, the other will be too.

Indulge in habits. I have worked on loving the little habits that fill my days, thinking about them and anticipating them. Crap night where none of us slept? Good thing I get to have coffee in my favorite cup in the morning. Too much work to do? Luckily I can look forward to an afternoon in my favorite coffee shop to tackle it. Wrapping pleasant routines around unpleasant realities makes all the difference in how I move through my days.

Chug that water. I have ALWAYS been a water chugger… but somehow the busyness (and recent coffee love?) have basically relegated me to a state of constant dehydration, which is definitely not ok while nursing. I’m trying to make myself chug water before coffee, when I pass through the kitchen, before nursing, etc. It seems silly, but the mere act of intense hydration makes everything in life better.

Sleep like a baby. I am so obsessed with baby sleep information. I love reading about sleep cycles, sleep developments, associations, object permanence, etc. It doesn’t always result in Henry sleeping, but it does mean that I usually know the scientific reasons why he isn’t and there is comfort in that. But one day, I had that light-bulb moment where I realized that I basically sleep like Henry. Too tired? WON’T SLEEP. Not tired enough? WON’T SLEEP. Bedtime not almost exactly the same every night? FORGET ABOUT IT. I’m trying to be better about having better bedtime habits because my sleep has a direct impact on everything else.

We are doing better around here now. A couple weeks of better sleep and best practices has me feeling calmer and happier in everyday life. This is a pattern that repeats itself so much in life. Things are good, we stop focusing on what makes them good, they spiral out of control, regroup. Repeat. But hopefully the cataloging of what makes life work will make the good cycles last every longer and longer.

What are some of the best practices you fall back on when life gets hard?

It’s Friiiidddaayyyy!!! I used to wonder why SAHM’s got so excited about the weekend because I was like, um, it’s the same as all your other days. BUT IT IS NOT. Because on the weekend, Other Parent is there to help and and join you in adoring the offspring. This week started with a couple really rough sleep nights for Henry, followed by inexplicably rough sleep nights for me, and my working from home just proved difficult(nonexistent?). But! It’s Friday! Tonight James and I are being classier than our usual go-to of wine and Homeland on the couch and are instead going out to dinner and the theater. Don’t we sound fancy? Don’t be too impressed. The Shakespeare Theater Company has a CRAZY good deal for season tickets if you are under 35, and thus we are officially patrons of the arts this year and will enjoy 6 plays for roughly the same price as 6 3d movies. Tomorrow I will then spend the day writing and researching at a coffee shop and hopefully making up for the piles of work I didn’t get done this week. Hopefully.

An important part of getting things done is taking a picture of the spot in which you plan to get things done.

But though chunks of concentrated dissertating time proved elusive this week, minutes to waste on reading and watching all sorts of things were in good supply. Here’s a quick roundup for your weekend:

I shall require this cocktail as soon as possible.  And while you are over there salivating for it, you should roam around because Megan’s little boy is the cutest and Henry aspires to be as stylish as him.

This makes me so happy to be a Pirates fan, even if this season was not the finest.

The common denominators among mothers who thrive versus survive. This one hit hard, as I have been doing some surviving over thriving recently.

Some things that we have been loving in the kitchen lately: this zucchini and corn pie because I like to have quiches on hand for quick breakfasts,  this mac n’ cheese for a block party that we organized with some neighbors, and I made the first tortilla soup of soup season!

As I think that Up might be one of the greatest animated classics, I loved this.

I was hardcore into drama in high school, and so this was absolutely hysterical to me. In general, SNL is the best part of presidential election years… and especially this year. We laugh to keep from crying, eh?

In a world where so much divides, let us let the impossible goodness of Kate’s Canadian tour wardrobe bring us together.

Happy weekend!

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Once upon a time, I wrote about how getting dressed was the easiest part of my day, thanks to a deep closet purge and some months of healthy living that had me loving my wardrobe and being able to wear it to its full potential.

Oh those long gone days.

Because now, getting dressed is the absolute worst, which might explain why I try to do it as infrequently as possible, changing from pajamas into variations on the dayjama, otherwise known as the momiform of leggings and tees. I used to snottily wonder why so many moms out and about were consistently wearing athleisure instead of real clothes… but now I know.

When I behold my closet, it is like the world’s saddest Venn Diagram. Finding something that fits reduces the wardrobe by half, something that I actually like knocks out another chunk, is seasonally appropriate reduces the number still, and lastly – can I nurse in it? This leaves about 3 outfits in the middle of these treacherous overlapping circles, and if Henry hasn’t spit up on all three in succession by the time I leave the house- truly, I deserve a medal. So many days it is just easier to grab my favorite trusty leggings and then burn through t-shirts as he destroys one after another.

And then of course, there is Henry’s wardrobe. I utterly failed at building a baby wardrobe. Yes, he has many animal costumes, and yes, he has lots of adorable clothes that were given to us- especially for 0-3 months. But now he is 4.5 months.  I didn’t really think through entire outfits as I was filling in the gaps between what was given which means he routinely looks like he was dressed by a toddler who could only select things from a thrift bin.

But luckily, I can always fall back on just tossing a receiving blanket over him in the stroller and pop on a hat with ears and know that people will think he’s cute.

The same approach does not work for a grown woman.

Which is why I made James take all these pictures of me last Sunday when my hair was done, I had accessories, my shoes were stylish over practical, and I was rocking my absolute favorite dress of late. Only this last element happens on a regular basis.  Not only is it the softest lightweight sweatshirt material, basically like wearing a stylish, well-worn hoodie, but it is a universally flattering cut. And – that seam across the top? It is a tiny hidden zipper. MAGIC. Most nursing attire has to pull up/pull down/unbotton/ etc, and I just get tired of it. I had to restrain myself from buying everything from this company because hidden zippers for president.

Dear fellow women in the postpartum trenches: how do you face the closet every day? Other than this dress, the other things I swear by are this tank top under everything and these high-waisted jeans. Pricey yes, but you can shove all those extra ponds in, believe, and zip. Share with me your secrets about looking amazing in the trenches of parenthood. Bonus points if you have secrets for the most versatile baby clothes.

Oh, and lest the above photos give an overly rosy impression of life and have you thinking that this might become one of those shiny, well-polished blogs of maternal perfection- most of the shots looked like this:

Double chins- who wore it best? Him, definitely him. And yes, he did spit up all over me as soon as this shot was taken. Back inside and into my leggings and tee I went!