So far this month I have turned 33, spent the majority of the month on a legit vacation in Mexico and said goodbye to my maternal grandmother. It has been a blur. It has been beautiful. It has been sad.
On April 2nd we picked up and flew to Mexico for a last minute spring break trip that lasted a glorious 10 days. I celebrated my birthday reading Big Little Lies poolside under palm trees with the sun kissing my bikini clad body. We got home last Tuesday night and I woke up to the news of my Abuela passing during the night. Continue reading “life shit”→
As I sat down to write this post I was compelled to write it in short form, kind of like a poem or small thoughts. I knew I didn’t want to write too much or go to deep. And I knew I wanted to honor the fact that I had always imagined myself a mom to a two year old boy and today I am.
Here I am. Where I knew I wanted to be. A mama to a two year old boy.
Here you are. Wherever you want to be. A boy with a crusty nose and unkempt nails on his fingers and toes.
There I was. When you were born, not sure who this birth would make me become. But looking forward to life with you at the age of two.
There you were. When your arrival surprised us and you came before due. Tiny, squeaky and new.
Here I am, over a year and a half into what has arguably been the most defining part of my adulthood. The emotional growth and adjustment that I have made has been appropriately organic and slow. Just recently I have properly accepted the fact that I am a M-O-M. I sleep less, have finally determined a proper makeup routine and take care (in some shape or form) of a little human man everyday.
I know I am not alone in this surprise acceptance of motherhood and collect little quotes and anecdotes from the collection of blogs and people I follow online. I continue to This one that I found yesterday from Joanna Goddard’s website (more on that later) comes from new madre and writer Alyssa Shelasky.
“The greatest thing I learned is that I don’t have to be so tough – that a “never let ’em see ya sweat” ethos is a lost cause in this sappy love song called motherhood.”Continue reading “19 months a madre”→
At the beginning of the month I was asked by Social Print Studio to share a photograph in honor of Mother’s Day and tell the story behind the photograph. With the month nearly over I didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity. Plus, when you have a mom that takes as much care of you at 32 years old as she did at 32 hours old Mother’s Day is everyday.
I chose this photograph of my madre that was taken on September 13th 1980, her wedding day.
Today we have a guest post from Emi in Brooklyn. If you don’t know yet Emi is my best friend of 30 years (pretty much since birth). We keep up online throughout the week via gchat, email and text. When not texting photos of Mo and Nicky (her posh city livin’ cat) we are sharing links from the web featuring unnecessary home furnishings, black leather boots and new favorite blog posts. We like the idea of sharing this space with you to feature the real life and times of women these days. Not just madres but real women living and dealing with their real lives.
Earlier this month we were emailing about some posts she would be lining up for the blog and we fell into the topic of dining with your friends AND their kids. Emi and Steve are not yet parents so they have the fun job of being the good friends that oblige to brunch with their friends and their friends kids.
Click through to read this story. Not only cause we all can relate but also cause Emi is 100x a better writer than I ever will be.
It is January of my 31st year and it is only the 11th day. But somehow I have already had four baby showers happen in the past 11 days of this year. I only was able to make it to two. Even only attending two showers over the course of the 11 days of January it is obvious that a shift has happened in my life. I have not received a single save the date or wedding invite in the past six months but four invitations for baby showers. WOW. Times they sure are a changing, huh?
At 10 months into being a family of three, I can’t help but feel like I didn’t really know the value of a weekend prior to having a baby. I realize how ridiculous this is to say, but hear me out. Weekends pre baby were fun. Sleeping in & going out, doing things that I could not fit into the workweek. They were good, but never really felt like a real escape from the week. Partially due to who I would spend my weekends with, a lot of friends from work, but also because I would do a fair amount of work or be traveling for work on weekends.
As I write this it is Monday June 29th at 10:37pm. I just wrapped six of six straight days of a shoot for work. I arrived down in LA last Monday evening for work. First thing Tuesday morning I started with wardrobe and casting. Well to be fair, first thing was a 7am Soulcycle with my friend Kam.
Being on production can be taxing and most often requires long stretches of time away from home.
Because of this we decided to have Mike and Mo fly down Wednesday through Monday so we could spend some time together and so that night time feedings and nursing would be easier for everyone… Who likes waking up before your alarm to pump? Nursing your own baby is a much better experience.
Call times have been typically 6:30 am and we have wrapped no earlier than 8pm each day with at least a 30 minute car ride back to the hotel from set. So that leads little time to hang with my guys especially since I am pretty beat from days on location in the heat and sun once I return to the hotel.
Enough with the details of production life. The point is I was anticipating a bit more time to spend with Mike and Mo, I optimistically packed a swimsuit but have not even walked by the pool.
Additionally, from Mike’s perspective I don’t think he was planning on spending the entire day with Mo on his own. Production schedules typically change and adjust allowing some downtime during the day or unexpected opportunities to return to leave set, which ours didn’t. But the good part is both Mike & Mo have doing really really good without me. I was anticipating texts for help or even panic. But I truly have received none. The closest thing was a very calm/normal phone call from the PDX airport asking me to remind him how to fold down the travel stroller. Instead of panic though I have been on the receiving end of a lot of cute photos of my guys lounging in the room, dipping in the pool, drinking americanos and visiting pool parties with friends.
I am so relieved and happy to know that their time together was beneficial for all of us. Most of all I am really impressed with Mike’s stamina and ability, yes I know that sounds bad, to spend all day with Mo. Take care of every feeding, diaper change, entertainment, nap, fuss etc. Scattered throughout the post are some photos via text that Mike sent me throughout the days of their activities. It was so nice to come home to them at the end of each day. Such a relief on my breasts too. I was pumping on set but Mo does a better job at getting the milk out than the pump does.
My guys left mid day Monday afternoon back to Portland as Mike had some meetings to attend to back home. Now I am sitting in the king size bed of my hotel room with traces of their visit, the rollaway crib, a diaper, some of their leftover dirty clothes and empty baby bottles. I have the room to myself and the night to myself along with the TV remote and a glass of rosé.
I remember being on production last September, a 10 day stretch when I started the blog. I looked forward and imagined nights like this. Away from my husband and child. Alone in a comfortable room the night before heading back home to them in the morning. I remember thinking that I would try to really appreciate and take advantage of these little pockets of ‘me time’ that are allowed and come my way. And here I am, doing exactly that.
Part of the freak out we had when we learned we were going to be parents had to do with the fact that we didn’t quite yet feel like adults. We didn’t have the organization, planning or scheduling that typically comes with the title of being an adult. Honestly though, we still don’t.
One such area in which we were lacking major adulthood credentials is in the kitchen. We love food, we love diverse cuisines but when we do cook its usually in our comfort zones of beans & rice, meat stew or basic pastas. I do not fancy myself a cook and consider myself quite uneducated in the culinary arts. Mike can be good at cooking and enjoys it when all the tools and ingredients are at his ready. But our lack of planning and organization doesn’t allow for the foresight necessary to grocery shop or have a meal plan for the week. I promise this is going somewhere…
Last week I wrote how we had begun to try Plated. After just three weeks I am now a major advocate of the service. I am feeling things in the kitchen that I have never felt before and smelling delicious things that I have, yes smelled before, but never been responsible for. The idea of preparing a home cooked meal start to finish has always been a daunting one. And I never feel truly prepared for a recipe. Either lacking one ingredient or unsure of how to properly prepare the items before me. Plated changes all of that. For those of you unfamiliar with the concept, there are a few versions out there. Simply put Plated provides all of the ingredients needed to prepare a quality meal in your own kitchen. The perfect amount of crushed red pepper, fish, meat or vegetables arrives on your doorstep once a week in a refrigerated box so you can cook up your own dinners at home.
We chose the option that sends three meals a week. Meal prep time varies between about 20 minutes to 45 minutes depending on your dish and at the start of each week you select the meals you want to cook, bonus that you actually learn how to make them as you go along. Inside the box each meal is carved out into its own little cluster so as not to mix up ingredients and has a sticker for reference reminding you what the name of the ingredient is and the meal you use it for.
The best surprise of all has been that I actually look forward to preparing dinner and truly enjoy the process. We are making/eating dinners from different cuisines with unexpected ingredients, that I definitely would not be shopping for.
To prove my point about enjoying the cooking Monday night acts as a good example of this. It was a night where I was not expecting to cook. Our schedule was off, Mike’s pick up basketball league had him getting home around 10pm and I got home right before he took off for the game. So I spent 8pm-10pm doing a little work and playing with Mo. By the time Mike got home Mo was asleep and we could have easily had takeout. But I had a meal in the fridge that only required 20 minutes of prep. I took that time and found appreciated the process of putting a meal together for the two of us.
My gushing will end there, point of the story, I am impressed with the service and impressed with my conviction to continue cooking.