The High Shelf

You can usually tell what kind of day I'm having by how many toys make it up to "the high shelf." Yeah. Rough day.

P.S. The warthog on the wall is not a toy. And that is not a prominent wall in our home.

Calm Down

I got an unexpected late Mother's Day present this morning in the form of this Newsweek article. A must-read I think for all of us mothers of young children these days, who for some reason keep striving for that elusive "p" word in the work of morhering. Not gonna happen, so why are we beating ourselves up and harmfully glorifying our children in the process? Happy reading, and I wish us all guilt-free, calm, and maybe even slightly more Victorian mothering from this day forward.

Take a Chance

Last Saturday was the H's and my sixth wedding anniversary, which seemed like a good excuse to update my pathetically aged fragrance collection. I chose the new Chance Eau Tendre by Chanel. Chance eau Fraiche smells pretty amazing too. I wish there was a scratch and sniff feature on Blogger. But trust me. Very heady stuff.

Have You Tried This Yet?

Eating Trader Joe's peanut butter was always a guilty pleasure, while eating their almond butter was pure torture. But pair those almonds with some roasted flaxseeds, and I suddenly don't miss the peanuts in my butter (or in my PB&J) one single bit. It's really yummy on bananas. And the kids like it too. So there you go.

Photo credit: Living Trader Joe's

I Have Sinned

Confession time: I fell off the Bullseye wagon, and sprang for a semi-pricey, 4-step skincare regimen. Again. My favorite step? This serum. Oh my gosh. This serum. I already love it, and it's not supposed to really kick in for two more months. Feels good to feel zero remorse. Finally.

Loving Laura

"Laura lived in the little house with her Pa, her Ma, her big sister Mary, her baby sister Carrie, and their good old bulldog Jack." Snook and I are really enjoying reading our way through the My First Little House Books series, in no particular order. She seems enthralled by the depiction of life in simpler times. I'm just so happy that she's enthralled with any stories in which the heroine isn't wearing a crown.

Read, Watch, Yawn

I finally got around to reading Eat Pray Love a little while ago. It definitely held my interest, but I can't say that I loved it. Mostly because I couldn't figure out what the author was so darn unhappy about, and I was consumed with envy that she had the time and resources to do what she did. Yeah, it didn't bring out the best in me. Judging from the trailer, the movie will be just as, for lack of a better word, annoying. But the scenery looks gorgeous, and so is Javier Bardem.

My Little Marilyn

The other day I came across these images of not-quite-2-year-old Snook doing her best Marilyn impression near a vent on the side of my in-laws' condo building.Still some of my favorite shots!

Serving Pretty

My ho-hum collection of serving trays just got a hot spring injection courtesy of two new trays from Target's Isabelle Party line. It's all so pretty!

How Do You Like Your Stripes?

I pretty much like them any which way the Aqua collection at Bloomies sees fit to serve them.Which one is your favorite?

P.S. #1 and #5 please.

Swing High

Snook turned 4 last month. More on that later, I hope. For now, here are some pictures I took of her a few weeks before her birthday. You can still see a smidge of the baby in there somewhere. That probably won't be true for much longer.

Wrap it Up

Wouldn't this convertible(!) ecoSkin Holly Wrap be just the thing to tie together just about any ensemble in the most delightful way? I like it in heather grey for spring.

Intoxicating Granola

Our home smelled better than I can ever remember the other day, thanks to this pan of granola baking in the oven.Tasty too.

Heart Day Recap

Want to know what we did for Valentine's Day (sorry, I can't keep this blog current to save my life)? Well, without giving too much away, the H made a four-course meal. While I sat in bed. And ate.And drank.And then ate and drank some more the next morning. Yep, he done good.

Potato Peel Pie

Typically when I host book club, it can be challenging to serve a dish that hearkens back to the book. That was not the case when our club recently read the wonderful The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. Without question, I knew I would have to serve a potato peel pie. Googling a recipe was easy. Luckily, so was making the pie. Peel the potatoes. Boil the potatoes. Combine the peels with some flour, salt and onions. Press the peels into a pie dish. Make a mashed potato filling. Bake. Sprinkle with beet root. And tada!Everyone bravely dug in, declaring it an appealing side dish with a roast beef, for example. The potato peel pie crust really did have a surprisingly nice flavor and texture, and you can't go wrong with a mashed potato filling. Even our youngest members tried it, although they were more game for the chocolate cake I served in case the pie was a bust. The last word: great book, pretty darn good pie.

Eeeek!

Snook screamed at me from the kitchen the other day, "Mommy! I see a rat!" Rest assured, I was about 119% certain that my daughter did not see a rat in our kitchen. Certain enough that I did not reach for the nearest broom, nor did I dive head-first under my bed. But it did warrant an investigation.This is what I saw. Not a rat. But . . . . . . this is what she saw. Definitely a rat. Whiskers and all. I love you beets, but I'll never look at you the same way again.

Hot Dress

Maggie Gyllenhaal's Oscar look is the one that has stayed on my mind since Sunday. So sexy and one-of-a-kind, yet still so elegant.

Suburb State of Mind

My friend, Amber, forwarded this YouTube clip to me today and I cannot. stop. watching it. It would be hi-larious if it didn't hit so horrifyingly close to home. As the story goes, Mama Mary asked for a poem from her husband, Steve, for Valentine's Day, and this is what evolved. I love the Old School reference (the one that I caught), the fake keyboarding, and, of course, the shout-out to mommy bloggers near the end. Hope you other thirty-something, parent-types enjoy. Or at least find it worthwhile in its cringe-worthiness.