I’m working on a Magpie Mail post at the moment (if you have questions, feel free to email me at jennifer@thefashionmagpie.com) and it always amuses me to see the ones that inquire after Mr. Magpie — his perspective on sharing household duties, his recommendations for kitchen gear, his favorite winter coat, etc. Today, I thought I’d share a few of his favorite products for a lovely weekend at home — i.e., non-working, non-dressy Mr. Magpie. All of these would make great gifts for spouses/important men in your life, but many of them are great to own regardless of gender!
TECHNOVORM MOCCAMASTER (OURS IS WHITE) — MR. MAGPIE USED TO MAKE POUROVER COFFEE EVERY MORNING, BUT THIS HAS MADE OUR A.M. ROUTINE MUCH MORE EFFICIENT (AND IS HANDIER WHEN WE HAVE GUESTS!)
WE HAVE EVERY KITCHEN APPLIANCE AND TOOL UNDER THE SUN (OUR MUST-HAVES HERE), BUT TWO OF HIS NEW FAVORITE TOYS: THE CHEF’S PRESSES (WHICH HE USES ALL THE TIME TO GET A PERFECT MAILLARD WHEN COOKING IN OUR CAST-IRON SKILLET, WHETHER STEAKS OR REUBENS ON NEW YEAR’S DAY) AND HIS SOUS-VIDE
COCKTAILS FROM DEATH & CO (HE ESPECIALLY LIKES “THE HOUSE OF PAYNE” COCKTAIL — A VARIATION ON A NEGRONI, BELOW)
House of Payne: Or, Mr. Magpie Unplugged
3 raspberries
1.5 oz Beefeater gin
1 oz Plymouth sloe gin
1 oz campari
1 raspberry for garnish
In a mixing glass, gently muddle the raspberries. Add the remaining ingredients and stir over ice. Double strain into a double rocks glass over 1 large ice cube. Garnish with the raspberry.
One of my resolutions for this year is the cloyingly diffuse directive “be an adult.” This includes doing my hair every day. For years I have coasted by with ponytails, top knots, and texturing spray that makes air-dried hair feel kind of intentional (…?) but I am turning 36 in June, and 36 year olds do their hair. My current regimen is to wash my hair at night, apply a detangler, brush it straight, and then curl it first thing in the morning, which feels manageable. When I am feeling extra, I blow dry it straight — and I hate blow-drying my hair because it takes forever. I may be the only woman on earth who did not mind the postpartum hair shedding because — dismaying as it is to watch clumps of your hair fall out in the shower — it actually made my hair a little easier to work with. (Ha!) I would love to invest in one of these Dyson dryers but I cannot justify the price tag knowing how unlikely it is I will ever get into a serious relationship with blow-drying my own hair.
At any rate, thought I’d share my absolute favorite products for hair at the moment:
THE BODY SHOP PADDLE BRUSH (HAVE OWNED THIS SINCE MY TEENS — WORKS REALLY WELL IF YOU ARE BLOW-DRYING STRAIGHT, AND IF SO, I LIKE TO USE BIOSILK ON MY HAIR BEFORE DRYING, SOMETHING MY SISTER TURNED ME ON TO IN COLLEGE!)
HOT TOOLS 3/4″ CURLING IRON — THE ABSOLUTE BEST CURLING IRON ON THE MARKET AND I LIKE THIS BARREL SIZE FOR BEACHY WAVES, WHICH IS HOW I WEAR MY HAIR MOST OF THE TIME
FINALLY ORDERED ONE OF THESE WHEN THE PRICE DROPPED TO $36 (ITS EN ROUTE AS WE SPEAK) — CANNOT WAIT TO TRY IT! MAYBE THIS WILL HELP WITH MY BLOW-DRYING AVERSION?!
For your little one’s head: If you’re vacation-bound, H&M has the cutest sun hats right now! Love this (very Minnow Swim) and this. And FlapHappy’s UPF 50 sunhats are fantastic, too — I bought mini one in white last summer and it went with everything (when she’d actually wear it…grr!). Beyond that, my favorite hair care products for little ones:
OUAI FINISHING CREME (I USE THIS FOR FLYAWAYS AND ALL OF THE LITTLE BABY HAIRS AROUND MINI’S FACE FOR DRESSIER OCCASIONS)
P.S. Some other new beauty finds (most of them well-priced). Update: very impressed with this $15 moisturizer, though it’s not quite as hydrating as my ride-or-die Belif gel cream. Still, very very impressed. Will keep it in the rotation.
P.P.S. Everyday makeup. To which I would add this mascara, which has recently become my absolute favorite mascara of all time. It really separates the lashes!
I finally pulled the trigger on the M.Z. Wallace Metro tote in rose gold. I love the backpack version (which I own in black) and despite the fact that several of you wrote in to complain about the “slippery” straps (i.e., the straps slip right off your shoulder if you’re wearing a coat), anything would be an improvement from my Goyard, which is so overstuffed that I can only carry it on my forearm because it won’t actually fit over my shoulder with everything crammed into it. This last trip back to D.C. reaffirmed that I NEED a roomier, more practical option when I have both children with me. I pride myself on being economical with what I bring on outings, but with a toddler who is still accident-prone (and needs a backup outfit) and ravenously hungry and a seven-month old who often needs multiple diapers, a back-up outfit, formula, bottles, and food, it was just too much.
I love this line of bags because the fabric is super lightweight and wipeable and non-precious (non-leather), and the pricepoint is reasonable enough that I don’t feel like throwing up every time I think about where I’m placing my bag (ahem, my $1500 Goyard has been on bathroom floors, playground jungle gyms, etc.) . Plus, the quilting and colors are fun and interesting and it doesn’t scream “DIAPER BAG.” I can easily see myself using this for travel/gym in a future life. If it survives.
I’m so excited about this. I know it sounds crazy but I’ve been hunting for a roomier bag to use with both children since Hill was born and I kept thinking an even better solution would present itself — but this is perfect for me for right now.
You’re Sooooo Popular: Vintner’s Daughter.
The most popular items on the blog this past week:
I ran a business with my husband for two years. For two years, we rose together, ate breakfast together, worked long hours together, ate dinner together, watched TV together, and then went to bed together. One of the most common responses to our husband-wife venture was: “I don’t know how you do that without killing each other. I could never work with my [husband/wife].” The reply was always delivered with a cheeky, knowing look and I typically brushed it off with a smile and a shrug, but at some point, I started to feel salty on the subject, in the way any rote prodding will eventually fray the nerves. (Just try walking down a street in 30 degree weather with a toddler who has refused to wear her coat/mittens/hat. The number of concerned bystanders who will let you know you’re doing something wrong will both reassure you that people care and and leave you irrationally, unattractively defensive — “YES, I KNOW SHE IS COLD. YOU TRY GETTING HER INTO THE COAT.”) But it mainly made me sad, suggesting — based on the volume and consistency of this kind of reaction — that the marital default in this country is acrimony.
Such has fortunately never been the case in our marriage and, if anything, working with Mr. Magpie strengthened our relationship. We toasted our enterprise in the good times, drinking champagne on the roof of our house together, and we cried over it in the harder times, nursing our wounds alongside one another. As we were winding it down, we arrived at the impression that it was just the two of us against the world, a small and unbreakable pod being tossed around in a roiling sea of bad news. I remember that once we’d moved on and started our new life in New York, Mr. Magpie would occasionally say, of the paltriest of victories — like my success in arranging all the paperwork to have a dining table delivered to our building, which had protocols more stringent than Fort Knox when it came to the delivery and egress of items to and from its service entrance, or receiving a check for $107 from the Chicago MTA after elbowing through a ridiculous ordeal to cash out our “L” cards — “THE SHOOPS ARE BACK!”
In short, that experience, alongside a string of other personal challenges and tragedies, endeared me to him in ways that have forever changed the way I understand our relationship, such that I feel a kind of radiant, second-hand delight in any small turn of luck for him (“I got to the 72nd street stop and the local train was right across the platform!!”) and I presume the same to be true for him on my behalf.
All this to say — after he rejoined the traditional workforce and I set out to focus on this blog and rear our children — I found that I missed the dozens of tiny little observations, gripes, musings we’d exchange with one another over the course of a day. To be perfectly fair, I do not miss his routine agonizing over what to eat for lunch (“how about a turkey sandwich?” [GRIMACE]; “do you want to order ramen?” “I JUST HAD NOODLES YESTERDAY”; “why don’t you thaw out the chili?” “We’re having soup for dinner…too much soup”; “What about those good kielbasi sandwiches from around the corner?” “Too greasy”…ETC ETC ETC) , but I miss everything else.
And so for maybe the first year and a half, we’d text one another throughout the day and then talk on the phone during his lunch break and usually again in the afternoon. That pattern disintegrated as things picked up at work (he went from a handful of direct reports to something like 13!) and I fell into the rhythm of caring for a newborn. So instead, I started to keep a tick-list of observations and thoughts and logistical questions on my phone, everything from an unpleasant interaction at the grocery to an item in the news weighing on my mind to whether he’d prefer to leave on the 14th or 15th for that wedding in Austin? And now, one of my very favorite times of the day is after both babies are asleep, when we pour a glass of wine and sit down to go over our “Shoop Talking Points” or, as we now call them, “STPs.”
This is the practice of two unabashed type-As compressing the alternately insignificant and freighted happenings of our days into something we can digest together. We run through our agenda with the efficiency of two seasoned board members, and I almost always leave the conversation with action items, noted carefully in a new note on my phone. But truly, in spite of its semi-parodic business trappings, it is a ritual of love.
What idiosyncratic rituals of love do you share with your spouse/significant other?
+An easy and elegant dinner party. (We are in fact hosting a dinner party at our house tonight! I hope it will be elegant, but it will not be easy. Mr. Magpie has been ordering specialty products and coordinating the menu for the better part of two weeks now. I think we will have gone to about seven different groceries/purveyors when all is said and done — possibly more?! Good Lord. Let me get to the most impressive point: Mr. Magpie is nixtamalizing corn to make his own tortillas in our kitchen. The carnitas have been in preparation since Wednesday. And my sole submission is dessert — flan — which I’ve never made before. If all else fails, we’ll have a great story and a pitcher of margaritas.
+Expecting moms: this is a no-brainer. So chic in the polka dot! I’d wear with maternity jeans or leggings.
By: Jen Shoop
On Wednesday afternoon, I was trundling down the steps of the 23rd street stop, a 20-something-pound baby strapped to my chest, an unwilling and tired toddler reluctantly holding my hand as she precariously teetered from steep step to steep step, a backpack stuffed to the brim with my daughter’s toddler backpack, formula, wipes, and other essentials affixed to my back, and a collapsed stroller slung over my other arm — and though there are far graver burdens to bear and though even in that moment I thought “I will one day look back at this with a mix of bemusement and admiration” — my desperation must have caught your eye, because you ran down the steps two at a time —
“Ma’am, ma’am!” you called. I turned, thinking you were restoring to me an errant mitten or rejected pacifier, and instead found you extending your arms:
“Can I help?”
Would it be unbecomingly melodramatic to admit that I cried to Mr. Magpie later that night, positively overwhelmed by your goodness and earnestness, even and especially when you appeared to be all of fourteen, and a pack of your ungainly friends were clustered not far away, and I am assured that such attributes are not a cool look on a pubescent teen?
Would it be too vitriolic a remonstrance to add that you offered me this generosity in spite of the fact that many other able-bodied adults sprinted right by me?
I wonder, sometimes, if gender politics are to blame for the determined aversion to the surrendering of seats on the subway to a mother laden with small children or to an expecting mother unwieldy on her feet, but that is neither here nor there, because today I want to simply say —
Thank you, to the boy at the 23rd street stop.
You humbled me, you made my day, and you also prompted me to wonder about your parents, and the wonderful people they must be, and the entire episode left me blearily optimistic and determined to instill the same helpfulness in my children.
+I need more pairs of skinnies with stretch in them for looking after my little ones. I am a J. Brand devotee but am going to test out this $68 pair (less than half the price of my favorites from J. Brand!) after reading many many positive reviews!
+These gingham rompers are on sale for only $18! Just ordered in the khaki for micro.
+If you are an Ugg-lover, Nordstrom has tons of styles on sale, including these cute ones for littles for 50% off!
+Speaking of Uggs: Uggs, but fashion. I own a pair of similar boots from Isabel Marant that I wear more than I probably should. They are essentially Uggs but feel a bit dressier…and OMG I WISH THESE WERE IN MY SIZE THEY ARE SO GOOD.
+I have been absolutely living in these long-sleeved Kule tees for the past few weeks. I like the “modern long” shape and am itching to add this one to my collection. (And your mini can match!)
+Similar look, but for me: this $75 (!!) blouse from VB, which reminds me a lot of a Petersyn top I have from a few seasons back, but it’s long-sleeved. Also eyeing these from her sale!
Would you believe that after nearly three weeks without childcare and a very busy trip to D.C. during which Mr. Magpie and I averaged four or five hours of sleep per night and weathered a particularly turbulent period of the terrible twos that involved more than a handful of tears on my part on Mr. Magpie’s shoulder (“what am I doing wrong?!”) —
The minute I sent my nearly-three-year-old daughter to school this week, I missed her?
Missed her sing-song; her silliness; the cheshire cat grin that accompanies her saying the word “poop”; her laying on her belly in her bedroom playing with her Maileg mice for stretches of twenty or thirty minutes, reenacting conversations she and I have shared (“no, it’s bedtime now, we put on our jammies and it’s dark outside and we sleep”); the cornsilk of her hair; the uncoordinated writhing she classifies as “dancing”; the way she clings to me after she wakes from a bad dream, crying “mama, mama, mama!” into the dark; the fact that she still prefers a specific “Rocketship” sippy cup to her “big girl” cups and will demand it, adamantly, at mealtime; how she asks “what’s going on?”, all peering eyes and furrowed brows; her irritating but endearing habit of shutting the door to micro’s nursery when I am putting him to sleep (I prefer it open so I can keep my ear out for her; she prefers it closed “because he’s sleeping”); the somber seriousness with which she engages in conversations that intrigue her, eyes wide as saucers, fork poised above her plate as she is too distracted to engage in the pedantry of eating when learning about, say, why it snows in winter; the persistent “but why?” on the tip of her tongue; the way she told me, the other night, when I went into her room after hearing her insistent “mama? mama? mama?” just after I’d put her down to sleep: “I missed you.”
The piquancy of motherhood continues to startle me.
So I was ambushed that morning at 8:03 a.m., after gritting my teeth while chasing her bare buttocks around, wrangling her into clothes and a semi-presentably clean and brushed state, strapping her into her stroller, all the while accommodating imperious and mercurial demands that befit a sovereign or a two-year-old and no one else the world ever (“NOT THOSE SHOES, YOU IDIOT!!!!” and “HOW DARE YOU REMOVE MY MILK CUP WHEN THERE WAS .02 OUNCES OF FLUID LEFT?!?!?!?!? I AND I ALONE WILL LET YOU KNOW WHEN I AM FINISHED!”), when I found myself staring at the door, the echo of her precocious voice disappearing down the elevator shaft.
I swallowed.
The house was…quiet. (And need I remind you that I still had a large dog, an active seven-month-old, and the blare of Disney music in my care?)
I’d anticipated — let me be truthful here — relief upon her departure but found instead an ache the size of a toddler in my heart. As I washed her rocket ship sippy cup and ate the remnants of her rye bread toast (peak motherhood), I was so overwhelmed by a surge of motherly devotion that I longed to run to the window to catch one last glimpse of her knit, pom-pommed hat over the edge of her stroller.
+I bought one of these memory foam bath mats for our master bathroom and OH MY GOD. It is a dream. A revelation! You must own one. It feels like stepping into a cloud after your shower.
+Just bought micro a pair of these. (Thanks Caitlin for the tip!)
+I have been looking for a kelly green kitchen rug for awhile. This is the best I’ve found, which I like but am still open to other options. Any thoughts? I have also had good luck with super inexpensive gingham cotton ones found on Amazon…maybe this is a better option. (Love that you can just toss it in the washing machine.)
+It has been so cold and dry in these parts! I am using a ton of this hand cream and this lip moisturizer. My cousin also suggested we pull out our humidifier as she’s had good luck with that. (We own this one.)
+My mom gave me one of these short robes for Christmas and I am OBSESSED. I love the short sleeves for getting-ready — it keeps sleeves out of the way and keeps me from overheating! Genius. And so soft! Also, I really appreciate the attached belt. A small thing but it truly makes the robe-wearing experience that much better.
+I have been lost in a throw pillow alternate universe / infinity loop while trying to update the ones in our living room and I will share what we ended up with in a future post, but one I LOVED but that did not work was this. (On sale, reminds me of Hermes!)
+The past few days, I have been responsible for picking mini up with micro in tow on my own, which is hard given that neither the origin nor destination subway stops have elevators and micro is pushing 22 pounds and barely fits into his carrier. (And did I mention I have a toddler? Who sometimes just does not want to get out of her stroller or who insists upon kissing her shoe on the subway? Etc.) All I can say is thank God for backpacks (<<this is the one I own) and hand sanitizer. And whoever invented bribery was a genius.
I love your auspiciousness in the morning, the way the rumble of a garbage truck or the blare of a horn at 5:42 a.m. will remind me that you have been awake all night long, at work.
I love the way you are flanked by Central and Riverside Parks, a strip of frenzy fringed on either side by flora and fauna.
I love the the still-not-old-to-me glamour of your taxis whizzing downtown in the dark, bearing fashionable people to fashionable dinners or opera at the Met or parties in chic loft-style apartments in TriBeCa with elevators that open right into them, chandeliers emerging from the 14 foot ceilings and gin martinis circulating the room.
I love that you are a haven from that downtown-ness, too — that you are the squat and broad-faced and approachable cousin of your cooler neighbors in Flatiron and beyond.
I love the windows of the cafes on your avenues, where inside, at 11:15 in the morning or 2:45 in the afternoon or 11:02 in the evening, you will find diners ensconced in cozy conversation, glasses of wine swirling — in short, that there is no such thing, really, as “peak times” in these parts: you are always on, at pinnacle, heightened.
I love the broad expanse of your sidewalks, so much friendlier to my children and I than your narrow and shattered counterparts downtown.
I love the relative cleanliness of your streets — relative being the operative word, as we are in Manhattan, after all. No offense.
I love the pattern of awnings on your streets, the observant nosiness of the doormen that dot their doorways — and the ceaseless movement of those doormen into and out of your dwellings to fetch packages or greet residents in taxi cabs or keep unsavory types moving down the block, reminding me, always, of the hundreds of thousands of stories in this city, and of my simultaneous insignificance to and participation in the enormous enterprise that is New York.
I love your foliage.
I love the startling romance of the brownstones on your streets coming off the volume and chaos and breadth of your avenues.
I love the children that sprint down your sidewalks and through your parks and into and out of your storefronts and up and down your stairs. The first weekend I moved here, I ran into a friend of a friend at a playground just off Central Park West and mentioned, swooningly, how happy I was to be up here, in this new, further-north neighborhood, especially after the dramatics of the move, and she returned, with no small measure of archness: “Oh, really? You can’t walk a city block without dodging an oxygen tank.” Very New York of her to take the wind out of my sails; pessimism, as a mentor once told me, is always cooler, and this city is full of the coolest cats. But I found her observation funny, as I notice mainly children in your embrace–and the young-ish, exhausted-looking parents that trail them. I am one such.
In short, on an occasional brisk and bright Tuesday morning in January, I will wake and look outside my bedroom window at the neoclassical brick building built exactly one century and one year ago (1919) and at the bristly, leafless tree limbs that extend from its left-hand side, harbingers from a secret garden behind it, and I will watch the thread of traffic beneath me, and I will think —
I love you, Upper West Side.
And on the Wednesday following, I might think, I hate you, New York.
But that is the way of this city, whose indifference and beauty can leave me emotionally wedged between frustrated angst and prideful affection.
*I’ve had this photo pinned to my Pinterest account forever and I wish I knew who made this dress because it is quite possibly the most beautiful item I’ve ever seen. Does anyone know?!
One of the most frequent questions I receive via email is — “What do I wear to a wedding with xyz constraints?” Below, a guide to my favorite finds for evening/special occasions. I’ll preface this by saying I have nowhere to wear this dress, but I need it. So that’d be high on my list — love the nude color and the fit is very me. Beyond that…
Mini’s newborn wardrobe was a mess — completely impractical. I had about fifteen little dresses and bubbles requiring hours of ironing, a smattering of pajamas and onesies in a range of random sizes, and four thousand pairs of socks. I learned on the fly and was much better prepared when micro came along. I include this preface because I wish I’d had a guide to building a layette before bearing children and many of you have (wisely) reached out to ask for advice along these lines. Below, sharing my guide to stocking up for a new baby.
A note on sizing: I’d buy maybe one or two items in each category below in a newborn size and the rest in size 0-3 months. Neither of my babies have worn NB size for longer than two weeks and could “fit” into 0-3 month clothing from birth (though they were a bit baggy) — though the sizing of children’s brands is all over the map so it’s a bit of a gamble anyway. If your baby comes early or is on the small side, you can always quickly supplement once she is here with additional NB-sized clothing, but they’ll grow into the 0-3 size regardless!
7 Pairs of Pajamas. One for every night of the week. Of course you’ll do laundry more frequently than weekly (ha), but you’d be amazed at how creative babies can be with wardrobe change demands. (I once had to completely change micro’s pajamas, sleepsack, and bassinet sheet three times in one night.) . Bonus points for convertible gowns. I was BIG into those with micro — makes nighttime changes so much easier.
My personal favorite brands for infant pajamas: Roller Rabbit, Kissy Kissy, Beaufort Bonnet (runs really small — specifically, narrow), 1212, Livly Baby, Hanna Andersson, Gap, Sal e Pimenta, Little English, Primary.
5 onesies. I am sure others will say you need more but I personally only used onesies/leggings as “interim” outfits, i.e., I usually had my newborns in playsuits/footies during the day and then jammies at night. I like 1212, Kissy Kissy, Moon&Back, and H&M — and I’d buy most of them in white or solids so they are ultra-versatile, though I’m not adverse to a print now and then (I wouldn’t be able to turn this down for a girl, and I had a couple of truly excellent striped ones from Polarn O Pyret), so long as you think through what it might go with (I’ve definitely run into the issue of buying the cutest print ever and then having nothing to pair it with). And I always had at least one or two Peter Pan collar ones from Kissy Kissy in each infant size. These are so versatile — they can go under overalls or a sweater for a more formal look!
3 leggings. See note above on onesies; I’m sure others would buy many more in this category. I like the ones from Moon & Back, H&M, Polarn O Pyret, 1212, and Old Navy (for boys). I tend to buy solid colored ones because they are more versatile, but if you buy a print, just make sure they coordinate with at least one onesie.
3 “fancy” outfits. (Dial up or down depending on your social calendar.) I liked to have at least two really special outfits for special visitors and special occasions. I love LaCoqueta, Beaufort Bonnet Company, Pixie Lily, Foque, Luli and Me, Jacadi, and Bella Bliss.
A pram coat. Even if the baby’s born in summer, you’ll have need for an extra layer from time to time. I like something like this or this for boys and this was one of my all-time favorite items on mini.
Cardigan. White goes with everything. I will admit to buying a few cashmere cardigans for my children in various sizes…so impractical but so sweet.
A coming-home outfit. I brought mini home in a pink bunny print Kissy Kissy footie and micro home in a gray and white elephant print set from Livly Baby. I also love the elegant styles from Pixie Lily and all of the knitwear from LaCoqueta (though you probably want a one-piece).
2-3 Caps. I was big into these for micro at night — he slept better when bundled with socks and hat, a onesie and a pair of pajamas underneath his swaddle. You can often find ones that coordinate with pajamas/coveralls, but I also had a few solid colored ones that went with everything, including one from Kissy Kissy and one from RL.
2 pairs of booties. Honestly, these have always been more decorative than functional since they usually fall off in a Manhattan second, but sometimes you need an extra layer when it’s cold out or you’re with company. I like the knit ones from La Coqueta or these from RL. The only ones that ever stayed on mini were these fleece ones from Zutano, which are more casual. I’d buy a special pair and the fleece ones, which you can just toss in the laundry.
1 cold weather suit (season depending). I love this from Livly (Hill had this — weep!) or this from Gap.
2 sweaters (season depending). I love the beyond precious styles from Foque and Mebi, which I often pair with a simple pair of leggings or jeans for a fun daytime outfit.
1 pair jeans. You can’t not see your baby in a pair of itty bitty jeans. I’d buy from Gap, Zara, or H&M.
I overbought and underbought in all the wrong categories as a first-timer — definitely learned my lesson later! Now I have more of a capsule approach to buying clothing for my children.
I wrote about this in a post-script earlier this week, but I just consolidated and re-organized our childrens’ cup/bottle/plate/bowl drawer, which was just the kind of hodge podge you’d expect after two years of motherhood. In so doing, I realized I need more divided toddler plates and purchased a set of these ones by RePlay. They are excellent. Microwave and dishwasher-safe (both absolutely crucial in my house — I have several melamine plates that cannot be put in the microwave so I inevitably end up dirtying multiple plates while trying to prepare her dinner!), simple and unfussy (i.e., not full of cartoon characters), and I like that the “wells” are rather deep and can hold things like applesauce and yogurt without a problem.
A couple of other favorite mealtime gear snags over the past few years:
NUK SIPPY CUPS (FOR TRANSITIONING FROM BOTTLE — THIS WAS THE ONLY ONE THAT WORKED FOR US AND THE SAME HAS HELD TRUE FOR MANY OTHER MOMS IN MY CIRCLE)
No additional commentary needed. Words I need to hear though.
Post-Scripts: A Buttoned-Up Dress and an Elegant Bench.
+Inexplicably drawn to this buttoned-up dress. That color blue is so “it” for this year. My sister wore a sweater from Sezane in that hue on New Year’s and I’ve been itching for something in the same color since…
+These joggers are an extra 40% off right now…ZOMG. Ordering. Also eyeing this loose-weave sweater, which reminds me of a style from Ulla I coveted all fall.
+Fantastic dress — bump-friendly, too. A great option for an important event if you’re expecting.
+Rose + Rex is one of my favorite online boutiques for children’s toys. I’ve purchased mini several Maileg mice from them and this was one of micro’s Christmas gifts. So cute! This also looks fun.
+Still the absolute best legging known to woman. I don’t think I would have survive the weeks postpartum without them! I am not big on wearing athletic gear but there have been days of intense parenting that called for them. These are chic and comfortable.
+Will I look too much like an old granny in this…kind of obsessed.
Despite the fact that I often find it more helpful to reflect on what I’ve learned in the year prior, I usually do — informally, oftentimes enumerated briskly and non-verbally as I am en route to pick up fixings for New Year’s Day lunch, which has, for the past ten or twelve years, always and invariably been reubens toasted in a cast-iron skillet with pickles and chips, on rare occasion featuring corned beef that Mr. Magpie has himself corned at home, and more than a handful of times accompanied by a gin-based Bloody Mary with all the accoutrements, which remains one of the best cocktails ever.
Occasionally, I elect a nebulous “mode” for the year in lieu of formal resolutions. I have gone with “gentleness” in multiple years past, with the goal of going easy on, well, everyone–myself included. (I have a thing for the word gentle, I guess.)
Almost always, I keep the intentions list brief. It’s too difficult to keep more than a handful of priorities or “modes” in mind–something I learned firsthand from being a manager to many, many employees in the course of my more traditional career.Anything prolix will be too dilute and inactionable, shuffled away in that drawer that houses old remotes and expired batteries and the take-out menu from a Chinese restaurant two homes ago.
When well-written, resolutions feel to me like doorways — entry-points, thresholds, intentional movement.
This year, I thought I’d share my resolutions, in part because saying them out loud makes me feel more accountable to them. I’d be curious to hear yours, too, if you’re not too private to share. Whether you do or
1 // As a parent, be present and patient. Major corollary to this objective: keep cell phone out of arm’s reach as much as possible. I have fallen into horrendous habits caring for a newborn, when so many of my responsibilities are repetitive to the point of perfunctory and often handled while an infant is in a state of half-repose. (In fact, handled while I as a parent am in a state of half-repose…ha!) As an example, I nearly always bring my phone with me while feeding my boy his five times a day — because, well, I treat those 15 minute feeds as opportune times to tick things off the list. But then that 15 minutes spills over or could be better passed engaged in dialogue with my inquisitive toddler who just this past weekend asked to take her phone (one of those noisy plastic v-tech ones) with her to the grocery store when we were dashing out to buy eggs to make blueberry muffins. I hesitated. Do as I say, not as I do flashed through my mind. And I resolve to do better. To spend more time sitting there in the dark in silence, no phone, with my boy. To get down on the floor and play with my daughter, phone free. I have struggled with this since mini was born, and so I know I will be a work in progress, but for the past few days, at least, I have made a point of stowing my phone far enough away from me that I won’t grab for it at the first sign of quiet.
Patience, too — oh Lord, how the toddlers will try your patience. Mini’s lollygagging can occasionally make me feel I will blow a gasket if I don’t exit the room and take a deep breath and preferably a large swig of wine. And the whining! Mini is not particularly bad, but the occasional bouts of whininess are knee-bucklingly challenging to muscle through…
So, presence and patience. Those are the modes for the year.
2 // Be an adult. Rather vague and ambitious, but this is rooted in my recent adoption of the “do things to completion” mentality. I am trying to do things as my mother and my mother-in-law would — that is, spot clean stains immediately; hand wash delicates rather than rolling the dice in the washing machine; sweep the floors with regularity (ideally, nightly, but that’s a bit far-fetched for me right now); wash hands upon entry into the apartment; place shoes in closet rather than letting them pile up outside; break down boxes fully; etc. The basic idea is that I feel like I’m too old to leave things in disarray, to be handled later.
3 // Cook more for mini and micro. Mr. Magpie and I eat very well and widely but I have long struggled with variety in mini’s diet, in part because she’s just getting through an irritatingly picky stage and in part because it’s been challenging syncing up our dining schedule so that we all eat at the same time and so I often cook for her separately. I am trying my hardest to sit down and map out her meals in advance so that I’m not resorting to buttered noodles and fish sticks and sliced cucumber for dinner as often as I have in the past. I am also trying to be better about feeding micro what we eat — trimming a small piece of steak to puree with mashed potatoes or feeding him the soupy part of chicken pot pie or what have you. I am determined to be more on-the-ball about this, because food is important to Mr. Magpie and I, and I need to see that through with our children. It takes time and energy, but honestly, there are other areas I can trim in my life to accommodate their nutrition and I continue to remind myself that time is a tool to express my values…
4 // Take more risks with my writing. I have been deeply encouraged by occasional Magpie inquiries as to whether I will write a book and the generous responses to more memoir-style posts like this. More to come…
All of these resolutions are despairingly diffuse. After all, the cardinal rule with goal-setting is ensuring measurability — and none of mine are easy to assess. In fact, they are wildly ambitious and I am likely doomed to disappoint myself BUT — Mr. Magpie had a clever contrivance that I’ve been exercising: before bed, pause and ask whether I’ve done anything in each of the categories. He encouraged me to think of it as a pulse check — a diagnostic or even mnemonic rather than a rubric, though I already find myself grading my own actions. So far, so good. Keeping an optimistic outlook on 2020.
What about you? Please share if you’re feeling loose-lipped…
+I know I’ve been talking about a storage bench for Hill’s room forever, but I think I’ve finally found a winner: this. Versatile enough to be used elsewhere…I came across it while scouring The Real Real the other night; did you know they also sell furniture? Too bad the bench was sold out already…but seriously! Great new resource for “vintage” home scores.
+You will never ever regret buying this sweater in either the cream or heather brown color. (On super sale!)
+Gave this as a gift and was super impressed with the quality…I think I need one, too…
By: Jen Shoop
*Image above via TheHomeEdit, whose organizational methods are #goalz. (Some of my favorite organizational finds here.)
I am evangelical about a number of beauty products (all of my favorites listed here), but a friend of mine once told me that her dermatologist claimed that there was essentially no difference between a drugstore brand facial moisturizer and a higher-end one, and that has always flickered through my mind as I’ve re-upped my prestige beauty product arsenal. I am sure there was more meat on the bone with her original content — perhaps she meant that certain types of moisturizers with certain types of ingredients? But it occasionally makes me wonder which beauty products I’m overpaying for?
I tend to believe that skincare is worth investing in (I am a devotee of this facial cleanser, this serum, and this or this moisturizer), but have been more game to play around with a range of different cosmetics, from the drugstore variety to prestige. Below, a few items I’ve been very impressed with lately:
MY MOM TUCKED A PAIR OF THESE INTO EACH OF OUR STOCKINGS THIS YEAR, AND I HAVE TO SAY IT’S MADE WASHING MY FACE A BREEZE — I USED TO ALWAYS HAVE WATER DRIPPING DOWN MY ARMS!
REDISCOVERED THIS IN THE “BABY” PINK COLOR IN THE BACK OF MY COSMETICS DRAWER AND AM IN LOVE
HAVE BEEN USING THIS TONING SPRAY AND IT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE I’M ON VACATION
Finally, though I absolutely love my Belif moisturizer (so much so that I gave it as a gift to several friends this year) and believe it to be moderately well-priced compared to other products in its category, I have been convinced by a friend to try Neutrogena’s formula, which is apparently very similar. I have it coming in the mail…stay tuned and we shall see whether my friend’s comment from many years ago holds true!
