Today, we celebrate nine years of marriage. In many ways, I can’t believe it’s only been nine years, and I mean that in the kindest way possible, in that it feels like we’ve endured countless metamorphoses and lived countless lives in that time. I barely know the Jen I was when tears streamed down my face as we exchanged our vows in that stone Church my parents had been married in thirty years prior. I feel the same heartswell when I think back on that humid and hazy D.C. afternoon now, nearly a decade later, but — is it unkind to visit it with an air of smugness, thinking of my twenty-five-year-old self as one might a much-younger sibling, seeing my former stresses and concerns as the tiniest tremblings of turbulence rather than the towering monstrosities they appeared to be at the time?
This year, I want to thank you for the many lives you have given me the space to create. In our time together, you have helped me carve my way into the most beautiful, exhilarating niches: motherhood, entrepreneurship, writing. You have held my hand when I needed the support and given me a wide berth when I needed space. You have empowered me to put myself first, to negotiate for higher salaries, to see myself as an equal to you (and your undeniably superior analytical abilities), to forgive myself for my failings and missteps as a mother and wife, to recognize my strengths, to pursue a passion as a career.
The other day, you chastised me for buying too many treats and — you were right: I have been overbuying in the dessert category. But I reminded you, archly, that whenever the cabinets run barren, you complain.
“It’s OK to want things, Jennie, and to have to wait for them,” you replied with a smirk.
You meant it as an airy retort, and possibly as a veiled criticism of my shopping addiction, but I tucked it away and have been lingering over it since.
There was a kernel of wisdom in there that explained a lot about…a lot.
It seems to me that we have always had to work a long time for the things we want together. Our marriage, for one (ha – – maybe that felt longer to me than it did to you). And the long, stressful periods of professional duress — endless job searches, extended seasons of life with jobs that we did not find fulfilling or in which we struggled with incompetent bosses and colleagues, a business we launched and ultimately shuttered. We waited, agonizingly, for a long while for mini to come along. We waited and worked for our first home, waited and worked for our move back to the East Coast. If that hockey stick graph exists (and it could well be a figment of the entrepreneurial imagination), it’s never found its way into the arithmetic of our lives or ambitions together. We’ve gone through things the long way. I wouldn’t say we’ve had a tough life by any stretch of the imagination, but we’ve been known to elbow along here and there, and often as a result of the outsized aspirations we have for ourselves and our lives together.
You’ve never been big on shortcuts anyhow. You’ve always done things the straight-and-narrow way. You have the patience and grit to grind away, keeping the endgame in focus.
It occurs to me today, on our nine year anniversary together, that this stick-to-it-iveness of yours bodes well for our union as two highly motivated, extremely passionate people. I feel a tingly sense of anticipation when I reflect on this, knowing that big things are coming our way thanks to the seeds we have planted and nurtured over the course of our marriage together, mainly by virtue of your determination and resolve, even if I am unsure of what those sprouts will one day transform into. I’m deeply satisfied to be where we are now, but the prospect of our future selves and their shimmering victories together leaves me hungry for our future in nine or twenty-nine or forty-nine years from now, God willing.
I one time told you, after too many glasses of champagne, that one life with you is not enough. You scolded me for saying that, but in a way that suggested I’d pierced your heart. And though I meant it in the sense that if we only have twenty-nine years together left, I am already devastated by their brevity — I also now see those words in a new light, in the sense that I am grateful for the many lives we have already lived together and excited for the many lives ahead of us.
+I have been swooning over HVN’s beautiful, retro-leaning dresses for a long time now and finally snagged one of them, on sale! Love the cheery cherry-print. Also in love with this style.
I’ve featured select pieces from this brand a number of times, but I have to tell you — I am head over heels for this label! I finally ordered a lovely dress of theirs, this tiered flamingo-print dress I’d been eyeing forever. I had been looking for something to wear for our NINE YEAR anniversary tomorrow and though I tend to wear white for the occasion, this just felt right for this chaotic but fun time in our lives. (Bonus: it comes in a coordinating mini size at Maisonette.)
For bargainistas (but aren’t we all…): Saks has a bunch of Banjanan pieces on sale, including this maxi for $135 and this stunning wrap.
For those averse to trends: You can rent select pieces of this label from Rent The Runway, like this chic dress! A sharp reader recently asked what to do about trendy pieces that have strong patterns/prints, as she feels she can only get 2-3 wears out of them before retiring them since they’re so noticeable/recognizable. I mentioned that, first, I often wear statement dresses multiple years in a row so I get a few uses out of them and genuinely don’t care if they are last season’s style! If I love something, I love something. I will also invent occasions on which to wear them (i.e., “let’s go out to dinner and get dressed up…just because!”) BUT. Rent the Runway is a good way to get a little dose of a trend for a special occasion without the commitment.
And, also — a couple of other boldly printed pieces I’m loving right now:
THIS SHIRTDRESS (I OWN AND LOVE THIS — CAN’T BELIEVE THE MARK-DOWN PRICE HERE!)
P.S. I mentioned recently that mini loves nightgowns, and I found this one on sale at J. Crew plus an extra 40% off! More updates on motherhood and the gear and musings that come with it here.
Though my faith as a Catholic is a central part of my life, and though it inevitably works its way into my musings on this blog because it shapes the way I understand and navigate the world, I generally and rather fastidiously try to avoid anything too religious here. When I do mention God, I feel I need to caveat by saying “or whatever you believe in.” I’ve written about this elsewhere, but my general ethos in life is “do no harm” and so I strive to be very careful with my language. (I fail at this routinely, but I do make a strenuous effort.)
My Magpie tribe has had all kinds of reactions to the erstwhile presence and absence of religion on the blog: some want me to share more about my faith and have asked for posts on the topic. Others have thanked me for not barreling too hard into Bible verses; they feel more comfortable and welcome here without them. Still others (well, to be fair, one other — the howling wolves and all, right?) have posited that I occasionally come off as “holier than thou” — a critique that makes my face burn and my stomach drop, as I have been audience to members of that tribe and they are insufferable.
And so I vacillate between a scrupulous avoidance of the topic and a shrugging “well, hey — this is me! This is part of me! So I’m going to share what I want to share and hope it doesn’t upset too many people.” (Hello, novena.)
Generally, though, I use the Landon Litmus. Mr. Magpie was not raised within a specific religious tradition and though he is courtly enough to go to Church with me when I ask him to and though he bows his head at grace before dinner every night and though he supports my intention to raise the children as Catholics, there is a difficult-to-articulate-but-easy-to-see line that I intuitively know not to cross when it comes to incorporating religion into our conversations at home. It’s not that he would stare at me in discomfort or dissuade me from expressing myself or my faith, but — there is simply a level of discourse that feels a bridge too far for us as a family. For example, I would never interrupt a vent session to suggest we pray together, though I will often later pray about it myself. I would never say a Hail Mary audibly, though I am often repeating it silently to myself when I am facing a particularly challenging moment of parenthood. Etc. It’s the Landon Litmus: would I do or say this thing at home? If not, it shouldn’t find its way onto the blog.
I hope this has prevented me from turning too many readers away and I certainly hope to avoid the “holier than thou” impression because I make just as many mistakes as the next gal, with or without religion involved.
But so —
All of this to say —
I hope I will not alienate you, kind readers, by sharing a Bible verse today because, well, when I wrote about literary fragments that see me through difficult times, I suppressed a handful of potently important Biblical ones. I felt something like guilt settle across my shoulders the following few days: why hadn’t I shared them? To seem “cooler” in some way? To avoid ruffling some feathers? To…?
So I’m sharing it here today.
From the Gospel of Matthew:
“Focus on me, not the storm.”
I repeated this simple command about four trillion times in the days and hours leading up to micro’s birth, when three different nurses attempted to get the IV into my arm and I thought I was going to pass out, while the doctors attempted to give me my spinal (cringe: there was a “training” anaesthesiologist who administered the medicine to me, and at one point I heard the supervising doctor say: “OK, just take it out and try again” — AHHHH!!! WHAT!!! I was sweating bullets and fighting tears!), and then, of course, during the actual c-section. I remember staring at the blue sheet separating me from the imminent birth of my son, my body shaking, tears streaming down my face, telling myself to breathe, and repeating those words:
“Focus on me, not the storm.”
Even if the peace it offered was evanescent, the calm that would briefly flood through my body as I’d bend my thoughts away from the fracas surrounding me, unhooking myself from the intensity of the moment, was life-giving. It saw me through some extraordinarily bumpy moments. It was emotional lidocaine mixed with something like adrenaline: six words motoring me through one of the most intense hours of my life, minute by minute, breath by breath.
I am so grateful for their companionship. I hung onto every letter of those words hungrily. I needed them.
And though I hope this isn’t the case today, maybe one of you does, too?
+Just ordered this pretty dress. I can’t get enough of this midi linen floral look.
+We made good use of this booster seat, which can “grow” with the little one since the insert can be removed. I kind of like it in that “cashmere” color. Minimalist Kanye West chic?
+Micro came down with the saddest old man cough (ugh, second child problems; mini didn’t have a cold until she was maybe eight or nine months old? and micro has already had a bad one at two months of age) and though I swore I’d never use the NoseFrida, my pediatrician suggested it and — well — it works really well. So never say never. (Add this to the long running list of things I said I’d never do as a mom.) A friend prompted me to also buy the brand’s nail clippers, which she described as “life changing.” (This is hardcore mom talk, people — you know you’re in the weeds when you and your friend are texting about nail clippers and she says: “I’m so so excited for you to try them.” HAHA! What is this. Who are we.)
I wrote about this just earlier this week, but I found this $30 dupe of a very popular Doen dress and as I write this, it is en route to me. V. excited about this. (Note it’s by the same brand as my favorite inexpensive caftan.)
Do you have a big question that you grapple with on a regular basis? Something that sits with you, recurring and resurfacing in nearly everything you do?
For me, that question is all about the role of providence in my life. To what degree do I exert control over the zigs and zags of my life (and what a squiggly line it’s been)? How much of it is pre-ordained? My clumsy fall last December — one that has left a permanent scar on my forehead — led me to think a lot about this in particular, and I was so moved and stirred by so many of your reactions to my musings on that front. One comment that has lingered with and troubled me over the past many months came from my reader Brooke, who wrote:
“This resonates with me as well. My first daughter was shockingly, unexpectedly stillborn after a healthy and normal pregnancy in which I had excellent prenatal care and took every precaution. The idea that the loss of my baby girl was not some senseless twist of fate but happened for a “reason”? I find that notion appalling. My mom assured me in the days following Eliza’s death that God didn’t do this to me, that He was grieving with me. Since then, I’ve come to believe that the idea everything happens for a reason only works for those of us who are sheltered or privileged enough to think life is essentially a meritocracy… I was that person for nearly thirty years, but I can’t abide by that philosophy anymore. I do think, however, that it is up to us to make meaning from accidents, to take tragedies big or small and allow them to shape and grow us. So my personal approach would to say there was no “reason” that you fell (I can’t believe God orchestrated that anymore than believe He is the cause of natural disasters), but there was certainly a lesson to come from that experience, and perhaps you will take from it what you need to be more centered, more mindful, less hurried. (A lesson I often need in my own life, come to think of it!)”
I don’t know how to think about this, how to digest this. I am beside myself every time I think about her (your — if you are reading!) loss and deeply motivated by her strength, her introspectiveness, and her conviction in her own outlook.
There are times where I think along the same lines, and it gives me peace of mind to think that life happens to me, and that I am in turn responsible for the grace and courage with which I respond to its twists and turns.
But there are other times where I look around and think, “There is no way to understand the dramatic kindnesses afforded me other than to see them as the hand of God.” Or — there is no way to make sense of the world around me unless I understand it as predestined in some way.
This is the big, dogged question of my life. What is yours?
+On the recommendation of a friend, I bought this intense-looking swaddle. I’ve always been more into swaddling using muslin cloths, but micro has liked to have his hands up by his face since the day he was born — it was honestly hard to pry them away from his face while nursing (and still is a daily battle). He has been really liking this.
+I bought mini this dress-up set as a present for successfully using the toilet with no accidents for TWO days in a row (!!!) and she was beside herself.
+Own these dreamy joggers in a few prints/colors and can’t rave enough about them.
By: Jen Shoop
So many of you have gotten to know my luminary of a mother through my frequent references to her and her exceptional kindness, devotion, and empathy that she’s cultivated her own celebrity status around these parts. And oh my, is it deserved. I’m almost at a loss for words as to how I can describe her pithily here, but suffice to say that she is my best friend, my greatest role model, my trusted sounding board, and everything to which I aspire in life.
Elaine was born in Washington, D.C., the fifth of seven children in a tight-knit, very Catholic family. She attended Stone Ridge High School (though all of her own four daughters attended Visitation or the National Cathedral School — traitors! — but this fact, too, serves as a reflection of her deep and selfless dedication to the wellbeing of her children, as she preferred to find the best possible school for each of us versus craft some sort of matrilineal legacy) and then Marymount College before pursuing certification to become a Montessori school teacher, which she happily and competently exercised until after she had married my father and was expecting the first of her five children. She has since been a full-time mother and home-maker, rule-maker and rule-enforcer, devoted wife, volunteer, support system to about half the women in the D.C. area, speed-reader, etiquette guru, expert-level shopper, Zumba dancer, and tenured philanthropist. And so you can see that my mother is many things, but any tribute to her must acknowledge that she is first and foremost a devout Catholic. If perchance a pair of sunglasses goes missing, you are more likely to find yourself praying to St. Anthony alongside her than actually looking for said object. I have leaned on her rock-solid faith throughout my life, finding myself the fortunate beneficiary of thousands of decades of the rosary, which she says daily on her morning walk around the neighborhood in support of a long and rotating list of intentions. (Many of my friends’ names have found their way onto this list, occasionally or in fact mainly without their knowledge. “Mom, can you add so-and-so to the list? She’s going through a tough time.“) And when I found myself alone in a taxi cab on the way to Mount Sinai Hospital having regular contractions at 32 weeks pregnant, I called her, sobbing, and she sat on the other end of the phone and prayed the Hail Mary with me until my tears had abated and I was able to make it through a prayer without losing my voice.
How many times I have called her in moments of duress, confusion, hurt, agony — and how many times she has calmly listened and sorted it all out, usually and most poignantly through the intercession of Saint Mary.
Don’t let her saintliness and decorousness fool you, though: my mother is also quick to laugh, down to earth, and supremely approachable. She’s been known to shock all of us with an unexpected wisecrack, and it has occasionally been said that she could make conversation with a brick wall.
But where I see her shine brightest (and of course this is heavily biased by my privileged role as her daughter) is as a mother. She is practical. She is never over-fussy or overbearing. She is patient, affectionate, encouraging, involved, present — and yet has nurtured our independence, curiosity, and self-sufficiency in all things. She is easy with words of affection but will tell it to you straight when you need to hear it. She is, in short, #momgoals. I think I may need to write a follow-up post interviewing her on her approach to parenting, in fact, but for now, while I have her pinned down — her answers to my Proust Questionnaire.
Favorite qualities in a woman.
Kindness, humility and being a good listener.
Your favorite heroine.
The Blessed Virgin Mary. I can’t imagine how difficult her life was, and she accepted it with such grace.
+Arcona Triad Toner Pads. My mom and I love these so much — such a great, easy way to refresh, cleanse, and tone skin. And we especially love a good deal (get a duo for a great value during the Nordstrom Sale).
+Linen placemats. My mother sets a proper table every single day, even when it’s only she and my father and they’re eating frozen pizza. (Which doesn’t happen often, but when it does…it’s still on china with linen napkins.)
+Lladro Madonna. My mom has an expansive collection of Lladro porcelain, the centerpeice of which is her elaborate Christmas creche.
+8 Hour Cream. She’s been putting this on us since we were wee ones — every burn, scratch, chapped lip, hang nail got the same treatment. She often carries it in the lipstick form in her purse.
+Cuyana cardholder. For her daily rosary walks, so she can just carry the essentials.
+Pique husband pillow. Just the kind of old school home affordance you’d find on my mom’s bed. (She also has things like bed trays for breakfast in bed and toast holders.)
+Bernardaud teapot. My mom has a beautiful collection of china and she often brings them out for her formal teas, of which she’s thrown many in her day.
+Lady Dior Bag. My mom inherited one from my elegant grandmother!
P.S. My mom is something of a beauty junkie. She’s said on many occasions that she has more than enough bath/beauty products to last her multiple lifetimes. She’s driven me to buy most of the beauty must-haves in my medicine cabinet.
P.P.S. My mother’s summer must-haves are included in this roundup.
*Photo above of Kendall Jenner in the epic Giambattista Valli for H&M collaboration.
One of the most frequently asked questions I receive via email and direct message is — “What should I wear to a wedding with xyz dress code?!” (You can see a chain of my responses to this query across Magpie Mail posts over the past few months, including this one, this one, and this one.) Here, I thought I’d round up a few of my top picks, as I’ve given this question a lot of personal thought since I will be heading to a wedding in just over a month:
Evening Wedding Guest Dresses.
Most of these would work great for black tie or black tie optional:
MY BEDSIDE WATER CARAFE, WHICH I’VE LATELY BEEN FILLING WITH WATER INFUSED WITH LEMONS AND CUCUMBERS, OR STRAWBERRIES AND MINT, OR WHATEVER I HAVE ON HAND
Things I’ve recently ordered that I’m very excited to test out and report back on:
+My boy is two months old tomorrow, and I can’t bear it. His firsts and lasts slay me, especially as I usually take stock of them late at night, in the quiet of a 3 a.m. nursing session, when I am prone toward weepiness anyhow, and I realize with some combination of remorse and mawkishness that it is far harder to keep tabs on the minute evolutions of this little soul with an active, demanding, in-the-midst-of-learning-to-use-the-toilet toddler around. I am fairly sure Hill will be our last child and so — oh. The tenderest to realize that not only is time flying, but it is flying by occasionally without a tenth of the notice and devotion I afforded mini’s early weeks. And so, shelving or donating his too-small clothes (he has already outgrown a small crop of them) wrenches my heart.
+I once told a room full of women here in New York that having a double stroller in Manhattan is “unseemly.” I was cavalier, uninitiated, stubborn, and though I was angling for a laugh, it was an inelegant thing to say anyhow. (Though, in my defense, I have been run over or boxed out by one too many of them in my time here, and the double wide strollers take over entire sidewalks, forcing other pedestrians into the street.) At any rate, we are making do just fine with our combination of Bugaboo, Yoyo, and Baby Bjorn Mini carrier. Most days, mini is out with her nanny in the Bugaboo and, when I need to go out, I put micro in his Nuna carseat, which has been conveniently strapped into the Yoyo using these new-fangled adapters. Not the prettiest sight, but it works and it’s incredibly lightweight and it’s meant we can get by without purchasing a third stroller or being beholden to the carrier when we want to take long walks. (Also, I rather like the zippered pouch in the back of the Yoyo — most days, I don’t even carry a baby bag with me when I’m out with micro on my own, and I just keep my wallet, key, phone, and emergency pacifier in there, as we never venture far from home and are never gone for more than an hour at a time because he’s still nursing every three hours. More products for a hands-free parenting life here.) When we take both kids out together, we either take both strollers and each push one or one of us carries the baby in the carrier. The Bugaboo ride along board we optimistically purchased for mini (as the Nuna carseat also snaps into the Bugaboo base) has been used a grand total of once or twice. Mini will occasionally sit on it out of novelty but it’s maddeningly useless when we need to quickly leave somewhere and need her strapped into a seat instead of dramatically wailing and leaping off a kick board. Maybe its utility will increase with her age, but…
+I prattled above, but the truth is — I do wish I had one of those “unseemly” Bugaboo double strollers. I’d order one in a flash if we lived anywhere but here, and if Mr. Magpie wouldn’t possibly blow a gasket if I introduce one additional piece of baby gear to our massive collection. We used to be so good about keeping baby gear and toys to a minimum in our apartment. At night, save for the monstrous stroller parked in our foyer, it was as though no child lived in our home. All toys were hidden in compartments, larger items broken down and stowed, candles and trinkets returned to their rightful places on coffee tables. Now, we’ve lost the battle. There is a children’s table in our living area, permanently littered with crayons and Little People. There are two overflowing baskets of books and toys whose mountainous contents continue to escalate in height with dizzying alacrity. The bath tub in our master bathroom has become the permanent home to a tangle of bath toys, micro’s Puj (<<more on this later) is seemingly always air-drying on its floor, and its tile is forever adorned with bath crayon scribbles from our beloved. Our closets might implode from the collective weight of baby gear and clothing. There is nearly always a small stack of neatly folded laundry on the dining table. Etc. At any rate, at this point, I think we have made do long enough with our travel stroller, Bugaboo, and carrier permutations, but oh how I long for the double stroller when I am with both on my own. How convenient! How simple! How much less hack-y! But, there isn’t much of a lifespan for such a splurge anyhow, as mini is off to school in a month and a half and suddenly the number of times I will be out with both on my own will be dramatically reduced, I think.
+But still. I’ll admit to a gear-aholic envy when I see one of those Bugaboo doubles roll by…
+One of my girlfriends commented, with no small amount of (undeserved?) admiration, that I put Hill “down to sleep” at under a month of age. I had forgotten that, with mini, we never really demarcated between night and day until she started going for longer stretches between feeds — perhaps at around three months? — as it didn’t really seem to matter. It’s a feeding “lather, rinse, repeat” routine no matter what time of day with a newborn, right? With micro, though, I usually feed him around 7:30-8, bathe him and change him into his pajamas, draw the blinds, turn out the lights, and put him to sleep in his bassinet, positioned like a sidecar on my side of the bed. On good nights, he will sleep his longest stretch at that point — until around 2 a.m. It’s a lovely gift, even if he then does tend to wake again at 4 and again for the day at 6:15. (Odd, but he nearly always wakes me at 6:12, 6:13, or 6:15. Like clockwork.) Upon reflection invoked by my friend’s comment, it dawned on me that perhaps his delightful habit of sleeping from around 8/9 to 2 was owing to our bedtime routine? Hm.
+With regards to infant bathing: this time around, I only bought micro the Puj Flyte, which is sort of like a travel version of the Puj tub. I honestly don’t know why anyone would get the full Puj at this point. The Flyte is less expensive and less bulky but better constructed (I far prefer the material of the Flyte, which is a heavy rubber, instead of the easy-to-scratch foam of the full-size Puj), and I swear it is the same size tub? Meaning that micro will soon outgrow it (as mini did the full-size Puj, at around 2-3 months), which is fine, because I have the Boon ready and will be able to use it now that I’ve healed from the c-section and bending over is no longer an issue. But so — the Flyte! I love it! Also folds in half and can easily fit into a suitcase. Strongly recommend.
+Micro had a mild case of cradle cap and though I know it goes away on its own, I am horribly vain on behalf of my children, and I learned from the sweet Colombian nanny we had back in Chicago how to treat it. It disappeared within two days of the following regimen: massage baby oil (she also advised olive oil, if you don’t have any Johnson’s on hand) into baby’s hair and let sit. Then loosen and brush out the flakes using this little brush (note the 1,500 five star reviews). Then massage in additional oil and let it sit for an hour or so before bathing him with this shampoo. Voila. I share this boring remedy because I would have had no idea how to deal with it had I not had a lovely nanny show me the way, and maybe it will strike someone as helpful.
+Deciding to toilet train mini while micro was under two months of age was not…my most brilliant decision. But I had told Mr. Magpie I simply could not take on anything else while I was a million months pregnant, and I had also promised I would get toilet-training started prior to the start of the school year–and so mid-July felt like the right time. (Plus, our life is generally chaotic and messy and out of focus right now; why not add one more thing to the plate? Ha.) Our school does not require children entering the program be toilet-trained, but they strongly encourage it, and — well, the truth was, mini had been giving us signals she was ready. Beyond that, though I generally do a decent job of blocking out parenting peer pressure (“oh, your daughter hasn’t been taking Mandarin since the age of six months?” etc), I will admit that I felt anxious to keep up with the joneses on this front, as I would never want mini to feel weird or behind her peers, and I knew that some of the kiddos she pals around with were either toilet trained or in the process thereof. I will dedicate a longer post to the…adventure (carefully selecting my euphemism there) of toileting once it’s more firmly in our rear-view mirror and I am confident we’ve gotten to a reliable place with it, but let me just say here that toileting is kind of like breast-feeding in that everyone has different advice and strategies and no one possibly knows what will work best for you, your family, and your child. I had a lot of moms tell me to just give up if mini wasn’t “getting it” by day two and return to it a few months down the road. I had other moms tell me to stick to my guns, as waffling back and forth would be very confusing. There were urgent claims about the three-day-pants-free method, and others about only using underwear (no pull-ups ever, even at night!); others about the danger of using bribery, and still others advising a lollipop as a reward for each successful trip to the toilet. And those are just a handful of the bits of advice I absorbed, wide-eyed and confused. My point is this: sift through the advice and forge your own path, as even the best-intentioned suggestions of others often fail to account for important ancillary details, like whether you are able to stay at home with your child consistently for, say, a week, or whether you have a nanny who can relieve you and support you in your process when you think you might rip out your hair (ha) or whether your child is in a proper bed or still in a crib or whether you have any major events or trips coming up that might throw a wrench into things. I’ll lay out our strategy in a future post for those interested, but I will say that the biggest takeaway for me was to think of “progress” in very different terms than I’d initially imagined. For us, it turned out to be less important that mini successfully use the toilet for the first few days and more important that the number of accidents decreased (i.e., she was becoming more aware of “holding it”) and that her comfort with sitting on the toilet increased (i.e., she seemed to be less intimidated by the concept). Every day, we saw small, incremental shifts in her attitude and physical awareness, and then, on the fifth day (yes, fifth — even my nanny thought I was insane for sticking with the program), it just seemed to click.
+This book, the Sesame Street episode on toilet training, and the Youtube video “Potty Monkey” (thank you, W.!) seemed to grab mini’s attention on the topic of using the toilet. Again, every child is different, but I found these helpful as a way of explaining the process with visuals — and as a conceptual hook for reiterating things. (Mini would even say things like, “I want to pee like Elmo” and make the noises that the monkey makes while sitting on the toilet — ha!) I had also heard good things about this “body puzzle” as a tool for explaining things, but we never bought it. We also did not use a chart or formal rewards system, which seem to be the convention among most of my mom friends, so who knows what the hell we’re doing…to each her own, again.
+Both because mini is in the midst of toileting and because her school sent a (40 page!) parent handbook outlining appropriate attire among other regulations, I have been hunting for outfits that are easy for mini to get on/off, easy to wash, and — as the parent guidebook said — optimized for movement and play. This has been a hard pill to swallow as I have always subscribed to the belief that I would dress mini up and then let her play — and so she has cultivated quite the reputation for personal style among the nannies and their charges with whom she plays on a weekly basis. (Ha!) I’ve had other moms express judgment on this front (“you must spend all your time ironing” and “don’t you ever let her dress in play clothes?”), but harrumph! I have never seen her outfit impede her from play, and I’m never overly precious either: never have the words “don’t get dirty” escaped my lips. I want a rough-and-tumbly kind of girl, though she may be dressed in smocked dresses and crisp bubbles — and so was distraught when, on our trip to the Hamptons, she expressed squeamishness over running through the backyard with bare feet after stepping into a mound of mud on one such sprint. We got her over the hump, but — oh! I want a child who plays in the dirt, lets popsicle juice drip down her arm, and whose clothes return with the markings and stains of a good time out-of-doors. But still. I feel I owe it to her to find more cotton play dresses and shorts for the near term. Below, the items I’ve either ordered or am eyeing so far:
+Mini loves these little $2 sticker activity books. I bought a whole bunch and have scattered them throughout my bags, in the stroller, by the toilet she uses, etc. (She also still loves these.)
+Micro absolutely LOVES this hideous floor mirror and the little balls on his rocker. He must spend a good hour each day gazing at either/both before drifting off to sleep. (Also, the rocker is getting SO much use — micro loves it! Every baby is different, but this really works well for him.)
+Mini has been obsessed with nightgowns lately. I ordered this one and this one for her, but her long-time favorite is this one (and I could EAT HER UP when she wears it — too, too precious).
I won’t soon forget the way you first kissed me behind your boxy black Jeep Cherokee, our friends only a couple of paces away, wielding red solo cups and candy-colored polo shirts and the headiness of school’s-out-for-summer frivolity.
Or the way you sometimes furtively traced the letters ILY on the palm of my hand while we were driving down to Charlottesville, safe from the gaze of your buddies in the backseat.
Or the steel set of your jaw when you picked me up from that ill-advised fraternity formal when I was in the midst of breaking up with a college boyfriend, or the red dirt on your sweats from sliding into third base while playing softball with your buddies just prior, or the trace of sweat on the brim of your UVA baseball hat — reminders, all, that I had interrupted your evening with a Hail Mary and that you hadn’t minded a bit.
Or the way the sun played on the forearm you’d so casually lean out the window of your car as we whizzed around the shade-dappled coil of Rock Creek Parkway in the parochial wild of N.W. D.C. so many afternoons that first summer we were dating.
Or the way you’d sheepishly stand behind my parents’ kitchen island when you’d trek over to their home after getting off of a long shift waiting tables at Faccia Luna in Clarendon, as you were wearing all black server’s clothes, and they embarrassed you, but you preferred to hastily come to see me rather than stop quickly at home to change.
Or the way you’d drive all the way across town at 11 P.M. for just thirty minutes of time with me, even if you’d nearly fall asleep on the drive home.
Or the way you added “mtb” in small blue letters to your AIM profile, an acronym for “meant to be,” something we told each other optimistically about our relationship with one another at its very naissance and that has proved, as a matter of fact, to be incontrovertibly true.
Or the way you introduced me to country music with a mix CD — “JMN’s First Sticks Mix,” you wrote in thick black sharpie on its front —
And I was just walking home from Magnolia Bakery the other day when Tim McGraw’s “Watch the Wind Blow By” — the second track on that CD you burned — came on through my AirPods, and I walked around with my heart in my throat for three city blocks and then replayed the song, even though I am not a repeater —
Because that song is all bare feet and nowhere-to-be and too-deep-tans and your young, bright-eyed, handsome, twenty-year-old-face and let-time-stand-still and sweet nothings whispered into the cicada-song of a mid Atlantic summer night and I LOVE YOU traced into the palm of my hand and the honey and breeze of youth —
And we have come so far from that time together, from the bucolia of sticky-still summers in Charlottesville to the moving-too-fast, don’t-blink-or-you’ll-miss-it thrum of urban life with two young children —
And though I wouldn’t trade where we are for anything and especially not a revisiting of the past ten years of hard work and heartbreak and often feeling as though I am not enough —
I won’t soon forget the way you were back then.
And I carry that you with me always, but occasionally and most tenderly in my Airpods, while walking briskly down Columbus Avenue, thinking — and I don’t give a damn how saccharine it is —
And all I want to do is let it be And be with you and watch the wind blow by And all I want to see is you and me Go on forever like the clear blue sky
I am usually fairly decisive when it comes to things like invitations and stationery (a full roundup of my favorite affordable stationery sources here), but I simply could not make up my mind on Hill’s birth announcements. I spent days poring over websites looking for inspiration, and when I finally came up with an idea I liked, I then took several weeks selecting a stationer whose work I liked (we had mini’s announcements done by Dinglewood Design and liked them, but wanted to try something new) and then nearly a full week reviewing and going back and forth with the stationer over various drafts, fretting over the color of envelope, font, color of ink, etc.
What is this?!
Maybe a function of my being a scattered mother to two? It feels alien.
But, I finally ordered a custom set from Sweetly Said Press (one of her beautiful designs shown above) and I have to say that the owner, Vanessa, was a gem to work with. I’ll share the final result when they are shipped, but I’m very excited about them.
As with mini’s birth announcement, I had a simple letterpress card drawn up without a photo embedded in it (I don’t know why, but I find a simple, text-centric card so elegant), but am enclosing beautiful matte prints from Artifact Uprising.
Next up: picking a Baptismal outfit for my little man. We have an heirloom Baptismal gown he’ll wear for the sacrament itself (scheduled for late September), but I’ll need something for the celebration after.
I recently revisited this post and I think it’s an important re-read, no matter what you’re facing — career challenges, relationship woes, infertility, a general nagging feeling of uncertainty or discontent.
I wrote about this on the eve of my 35th birthday, but my mid-30s have brought with them “the snuggly feeling of belonging and attachment and safety and all-is-right-with-the-world…a feeling of respite after what feels like a decade of movement and undulation and uncertainty.”
It took me years of heartache and stress to get here, and I never want to take it for granted. But if you’re in riding out the throes of personal evolution, feeling down about yourself or aching for The Next Thing in your life, consider re-reading my post occasionally. Let the thought that you are enough sit down the row from you until you feel comfortable with it cozying up against you.
+Ordering these for an upcoming trip — I hated having full-size bottles of baby shampoo and lotion on our last trip but didn’t get around to decanting them into smaller bottles or finding mini versions. I like that these ones come in a range of colors so you can find what you’re looking for easily/at a glance.
+Still some really good finds in the Janie + Jack sale section, like these seersucker trunks for boys for $12!
By: Jen Shoop
Q: I was hoping to ask for your thoughts on where I might be able to find Flower Girl dresses. I’m getting married next May (in a church ceremony followed by a black-tie reception under a tent) and am coming up short! Our flower girls will be three and four next year — I’ve perused Feltman Brothers and love some of their styles, but it looks like their largest size is 4T and I’m worried about needing some wiggle room, size-wise. What I truly adore are the beautiful Pepa & Co. dresses, especially the white ones with silk sashes, but I have to believe that it’s not necessary to spend ~$350 on a flower girl’s dress…!
A: I love those Pepa and Co dresses, too, but agree that the pricepoint is insane. Here are some other options:
+These similar ones from Fifi and Finn (seen above). Still spend-y but more reasonable.
+These ones from Daniel + Sofia. (Note that prices are in AUD, not USD.) am pretty sure you could also reach out and ask for something custom since I think most of their pieces are made to order anyway. They do a lot of elegant, traditional dresses that I swoon over.
+Finally, La Coqueta is one of my absolute favorite brands for children, and they’re having a big sale — check out their special occasion section!
Q: I’m moving from DC back to my home state of Alabama, so I’m on the job hunt. Are you a fan of informational interviews? How would you set them up with friends of friends or friends of family friends?
A: Hi! Sending you best wishes on your job search — I know how stressful that can be. I’m torn on this question. To be honest, I feel I wasted a lot of time in “informational interviews” with people when I was job hunting, but that was probably a function of my demure personality and my uncertainty about what I ultimately wanted to do. On the flip side, when people have asked me for informational interviews, I have often wanted to ask: “Let’s speak frankly — are you asking for a job? An introduction to someone I know? A letter of reference? Do you want me to circulate your resume to a few people? Give you the inside track on jobs at my company? Or are you genuinely curious about how to break into this industry and what it’s like working here?”
So I guess my advice would be to think carefully about your objective and be as frank as possible when asking for help. Just make it as easy as possible for them to get it done, i.e., if they say they will make an intro, pass along a brief blurb for them to use on you and your background.
But if you aren’t sure where you want to land or what you aim to get out of the conversation, I’d hold off until you have a firmer grasp to make the most of everyone’s time.
Q: How do you work around your daughter? Or do you only work when the nanny or husband is there? Asking as a fellow working mom with a toddler who demands my attention!
A: I hear you! This is an easy one: I do not and cannot work when I am watching the children by myself. I’m reminded of my very first appointment with mini’s pediatrician, when she was only a few days old. The doctor asked: “And who will be looking after Emory? Daycare? Nanny? One of you?” And I said: “Oh, well, I work from home and have a flexible schedule.” She replied, not unkindly: “Looking after a child is a full-time job.” And so we found a nanny.
Q:What should I wear to a black tie wedding while pregnant?
A: That is a tall order! Maternity-friendly evening wear is hard to come by. I’d check out ASOS and Zara for pieces that are inexpensive and fashion-forward — I like this, worn with high heels, an updo, and big earrings (I know the length is not “black tie,” but you get a little more flexibility with the rules when pregnant), and this is fun and could work with a bump. For something a little more playful, check out this or this, whose shapes are very high-fashion and bump-friendly. If you’re in the mood to splurge, this dress is EPIC and would work with or without a bump. Hatch always has a decent selection of styles, although I feel like they are best suited for taller women — I’d have looked swallowed-up in a lot of their pieces (and they run really big, FYI). I love this and this.
Finally, a lot of LoveShackFancy styles work with a smaller bump; I wore one to Christmas when I was almost five months pregnant. I love this one.
Q: What are your pantry staples?
A: Afeltra dried pasta in a range of shapes; canned San Marzano tomatoes (we like this brand); Royal basmati rice; Barbara’s Bakery Peanut Butter Puffins cereal; Justin’s Peanut Butter; Bonne Maman Jams; crackers (I love mini saltines and Firehook Bakery ones with fancy cheese); goldfish, Annie’s bunnies snacks/grahams, and freeze-dried fruit for mini; granola bars; Petit Ecolier and/or Quadratini cookies; and — much to Mr. Magpie’s chagrin, as he is not a snacker but will indulge when they are around — always some special “junk” food for emergencies. My indulgences: Cheetohs, spicy Cheez-its, and salt and vinegar chips.
Q: What’s your approach to discipline and toddler meltdowns? [Ed. note: I received a number of questions along these lines, and am responding to them all at once here.]
A: I am so flattered you’d ask my opinion! I do not consider myself an expert or even well-informed; I tend to follow my gut in all things parenting-related, so certainly take my perspective with a grain of salt.
In general, following an adage of my grandmother’s, we try to say “yes” as often as possible so that when we say “no,” mini knows we mean it. This means I’ve had to be very thoughtful about our rules, i.e., do I really need to tell her “no” when she’s emptying her toy bin on the ground even though the mess is driving me nuts? Or standing up on the couch? Or speaking really loudly but sweetly in micro’s face while he’s attempting to sleep? In general, I try to explain why it’d be best to do something differently or distract her/focus her attention on something else rather than tell her to stop doing something. I’m surprised at how well it works, and how nicely it prevents that particular issue from becoming a boundary-testing source of contention (i.e., “Oh, mom told me not to do this, so let me try THIS variation or see if she notices THIS.”)
At any rate, when we do tell her “no” and she ignores us or any time she gets physical (hits or kicks), she goes into time-out for a minute. We explain why when placing her in time-out and then again when taking her out of it, give her a hug, and tell her we love her. Occasionally, we find ourselves in “time out ping pong”: she does something she shouldn’t, we place her in time out, she emerges and does the exact same thing, we place her back in time out, etc. We are trying our best to be consistent about disciplining the same way each time, no matter how long it takes, so she comprehends the boundary. Most of the time, though, one “time out “is enough of a shock to the system that she’ll snap out of it.
For toddler meltdowns — ugh. These are rough. I feel like they fall into one of two categories: either she isn’t getting her way or she’s frustrated by something she can’t express (which often coincides with exhaustion). If it’s the former, I tend to calmly repeat my position (“no, you can’t have a third cookie today, but you can have a piece of fruit”) a handful of times to make sure she understands I’m not changing tack, and then ignore her. If it’s the latter — and I feel like this will be controversial to say since I have a hunch that a lot of parenting books advance the opposite (?) — I have found that I prolong meltdowns by trying to engage with her and puzzle out what’s wrong, i.e., asking her what she wants, presenting her with different distractions, running through options of what we can do, etc. Whenever I’ve gone this route, I end up in a thirty minute long whine/screech session with no result. Instead, I have found that the best thing to do is to silently go through a mental checklist of common problems — could she be hot, cold, hungry, thirsty, tired, uncomfortable, in pain, feverish? — and address any that might be bothering her and then essentially ignore her and go about my household duties/tasks until she settles down or offers up something that she needs/wants, occasionally pausing to ask her, in as soothing and composed a voice as I can manage: “How’s it going? Are you ready to color with me yet?”.
If things get really dicey, I can almost always snap her out of a funk by way of distraction, often through physical comedy (i.e., pretending to run into a wall), but I try to avoid that strategy unless absolutely necessary (i.e., we are in Church or I just need her to get into the damn stroller!).
I will say that any time she has a particularly bad meltdown, I think back later and realize that it almost always coincides with exhaustion, hunger, or transitions. I’m not sure if this is specific to Emory or more generally applicable to toddlers, but she has a tough time with transitioning from one activity to another, moving from playtime to naptime, moving from indoor activities to going outside to do something, going from getting into jammies to brushing her teeth, etc. Transitions! Tough for her — even small ones. Knowing this has helped me prevent them or at least accept/understand why they are happening, and has taught me to move swiftly through our routines to prevent the straggling and lollygagging that eventually blows up in my face by presenting her with too many opportunities to resist or melt down.
Q: I’m going to a wedding next month — cocktail attire, half indoor and half outdoor. Any RTR suggestions?
Yes! My favorites:
+I actually own this Saloni in red, and it is super flattering and elegant (love the length) and in a heavy-weight, formal-leaning fabric. Super chic with nude Alexandre Birman sandals.
Q: What are your favorite bargain buy clothes for kiddos?
A: My biggest tip is to wait for end-of-season sales/flash sales on higher end clothing and stock up then. I usually follow my favorite childrenswear retailers on Instagram and pounce whenever they run flash sales or release promo codes — check out DuckDuckGoose, Loozieloo, BornBoutique, CPC Kids, and BusyBeesKids, to name a few. But, of course, even with discounts, a lot of those labels can be spend-y. My favorite affordable sources:
+Gap (I like their frilly blouses — like this — paired with white or navy leggings, and I always find chic little dresses and overalls each season);
+Ralph Lauren’s sale section (always full of insane deals — these polos are currently under $10!);
+Charming Mary (love tops like this, paired with leggings) and Les Gamins (love their pinafores and overalls) have cute pieces that aren’t exactly “bargain” but are much less expensive than you’ll find in other boutiques with similar styles;
A: We spend a lot of time “cooking food” using inexpensive plastic food sets — mini loves to take my order, set the table, feed her dolls, etc. and miming real life with her Fisher Price dollhouse and dolls. I love both of these because they promote imaginative play and also give me a funny glimpse into how she sees the world. We spend hours acting out various scenarios. I also feel that these specific toys have taught her how to play by herself; she gravitates towards them any time she’s awake. I will often listen in on her having one doll tell another to “sit down on the toilet” or beseech another to “not push!”
I have also been surprised at how much she has loved her counting bears and her stack and sort toy. She uses them both as they were intended as well as according to her own creative devices — for example, the wooden pieces on her stack and sort toy are often pieces of food she arranges (“tomatoes, cheese, grapes”) and she likes to use the wooden pegs on which they are meant to hang as if they are birthday candles. The counting bears are characters in her dollhouse — or sometimes, just fun to line up in rows or place in the appropriate muffin liner.
Now that she’s a little older, we do a lot of fort-building using pillows and blankets, play dress up, bake together (a total mess, but she loves it — even easy things, using box mixes), and paint using watercolors. I’ve also found she really enjoys being given household tasks, like setting the table, “folding laundry,” sweeping the floor using her broom/mop, picking out a diaper for her brother while I am changing him, placing muffin liners into muffin tins when I am making muffins, etc. Finally, I took a bunch of old gift cards and loyalty cards and put them in an expensive card case and she absolutely LOVES to remove all the cards, “swipe them” (i.e., jam them into the crack of our drop-leaf table), and put them back in the card holder. It’s funny how the most mundane, everyday objects in my life are magical to her.
But my favorite thing? Take her to the playground and let her run, or use sidewalk chalk, or prance through the sprinklers/splash pads that are at nearly every public playground in Central Park. I love watching her, encouraging her, letting her run around, especially since we have such limited play space at home.
Q: What are your tips for organization and closet clean outs?
A: I shared some of my thoughts on home organization and favorite organizational products here, inspired (like everyone else) by Marie Kondo, and — late last year — some additional musings here. Two over-arching thoughts:
To get and stay organized, you need to buy the right tools. I find it borderline impossible to keep things tidy if I don’t have the right containers, dividers, bins, etc. I’ve found myself so much more orderly ever since I invested in, for example, these clear drawer organizers that now line every drawer and cabinet in our home. The same goes for things like my diaper bag — having a separate pouch for each child, a slot for the bottle, a special pouch for my own stuff, makes it so, so much easier to get what I need.
Try not to tackle too much at once, or it’s overwhelming and discouraging. Especially late in my pregnancy, I tried to tackle one household task a day, whether that was organizing mini’s dresser in order to donate too-small clothes and make space for in-season ones, mopping the floor of the bathroom, organizing our snack cabinet, cleaning out the fridge, etc. If I tried to tackle more than one of those things a day, I’d be exhausted, frustrated by my progress, and burnt out. Instead, my M.O. has been to make a long list of all the things I want to tackle (i.e., “linen closet,” “medicine cabinet in master bedroom,” etc.) and then address them one at a time.
Q: What 3 books have you been meaning to read but not gotten around to yet?
A: Great question. Home Fire, which I feel like I’ve been saying I would read next for the last year straight. It’s supposed to be excellent, but the premise is vaguely repellent to me for some reason — I can’t figure out why, but whenever I approach it, I just don’t feel like it. Melinda Gates’ The Moment of Lift has been recommended to me by at least half a dozen people, but I keep putting it off in favor of fiction. And — A Little Life, which several trusted reader friends of mine have said is among the best books they’ve read in recent memory, but is also supposed to be horribly disturbing and upsetting. Saving it for a time in my life when I’m better emotionally equipped and not horribly sleep deprived…
I wrote not long ago about my increasing competence at multitasking as a mother of two (and, come to think of it, a corollary relinquishing of my ability to focus). One key learning has been how to remain as hands-free as possible while juggling two little ones, as there is always someone or something needing both of my hands at any given moment. And beyond that — I am straining to live in the moment and enjoy this time with my two little ones. When I’m simultaneously hanging onto a bag or phone, it’s hard to be fully present. (In other words, I’m giving slow parenting a shot.)
Below, my favorite finds for hands-free parenting:
+This phone holder, which I strap to my stroller hand-bar. Makes it so much easier to see who’s calling or navigate Google Maps without needing to fumble with a phone.
+Airpods. These are life-changing. To be honest, I feel awkward wearing them while running errands — it feels so rude speaking to other people with them in, even if nothing is playing on them, and even offputting to have them in while others are around, as if it’s a signal to “leave me the hell alone,” so I will take them out as soon as I enter a store — but when I’m walking Tilly through Central Park or en route to the playground or zipping around between stores, these are in. Makes it so much easier to place and answer calls during an otherwise “dead” time in my day. I love the Siri function on these. “Hey Siri, call my mom,” I say as I walk briskly with one hand on the stroller and the other tightly wrapped around Tilly’s leash. Magic. When I’m going for a long (likely sweaty) exercise walk or run, I use these Plantronics earbuds instead — they are water and sweat resistant, will not fall out, and — most importantly — Mr. Magpie won’t yell at me when I get home. (“DON’T WEAR YOUR AIRPODS WHEN WORKING OUT!”)
+State Bags beltbag. I bought this exact one — currently 60% off and in the most fun shade of lipstick pink! — and am in love with it. It’s the perfect size for carrying my phone, Airpods case, card case, and key. I use this principally when I’m walking Tilly or taking the kids to the splash pad / playground by myself and want to keep my essentials close by.
+Think King stroller hooks. These are fantastic. I use them for obvious things, like my diaper bag and grocery bags, but I also like them for hanging my Klean Kanteen when I’m walking through CP on a hot day. Speaking of —
+My Klean Kanteen. Have sung its praises dozens of times, but I love the sports nozzle on this water bottle. It’s a delight to drink out of and the best for moms with only one free hand (no lid to unscrew)!
+Apple Watch. I have actually been using this quite a bit as I slowly ease back into a fitness routine after scarcely using it (and scarcely exercising) for two years. I use it so I can track all my walks/strolls as well as the runs I’ve finally started taking (!) easily and visibly, even though my iPhone tracks how far I’ve walked in a day, which is the primary metric I’m attending to right now. This motivates me to pick up my pace and reminds me to keep moving throughout the day. I bought a new inexpensive band in the rose pink hue and — what is it about a new accessory that makes exercising more fun? (Also, the band is quite good despite its price tag!)
+MZ Wallace backpack. I’ve written about this extensively in the past, but I love this backpack so much. It’s extremely lightweight and well-designed for an on-the-go mom thanks to the two drink/bottle holders on the sides and the small pocket on the exterior to keep things like snacks, Purell, my subway farecard, and my key easy to reach. (I keep all other essentials — importantly, my wallet — buried in the interior zippered pocket. It would be SO easy for a shady person to steal something from a preoccupied mom’s backpack on the subway!) Trust me when I say that backpacks are the way to go when navigating the subway with children, when you’re never quite sure whether you’ll need to carry a stroller up and down steps, as elevators are routinely out of service and/or no where to be found.
+Zojirushi coffee mug. I love my chic Byta tumbler for home drinking (especially cold beverages — it keeps drinks SHOCKINGLY cold, as in ice cubes will still be fully intact hours later), but I was disheartened to discover it is not dishwasher-friendly (ughhhh) and it does not have a sealed lid, so you can’t toss it in a bag. The Zojirushi does not spill and keeps liquids hot. Love it. I will say that though we toss ours in the dishwasher, the colored exterior eventually flaked off due to hundreds of washings. I might just get it in the plain stainless steel if I were to do it again.
+Invisibobbles. I have been wearing more top knots than I care to admit these days, and these hair ties keep my hair up and out of my face without ever breaking my hair. (Bonus: mini loves using them as bracelets, so they can be a toddler toy in a pinch.)
Separately, when I solicited inquiries for my upcoming Magpie Mail post the other day, I got a few requests to share more of my daily outfits when caring for two small children. I have been wearing a lot of the same thing over and over again because my clothing requirements are rather stringent right now: must be nursing-friendly, must be postpartum-figure-friendly (i.e., loose), must be appropriate for the intense heat we’ve had, must not be too precious. I have been getting a ton of wear out of:
+a denim shirtdress from J. Crew (I like to throw one of my Hermes scarves around my shoulders with it);
I love these easy-to-wear, versatile dresses because I can wear many of them with Supergas or Hermes Orans (really love these to get the look for less — but without looking like a copycat) for a casual look or pointed toe flats for something a little dressier. (With the exception of the caftan, which would look weird with pointed toe flats…)
On mornings where I’m going to be getting dirty at the playground, I wear my Align leggings with my APLs (on serious sale in certain colors here) or Birks.
