I can point to the day when we decided to move here, I think (or at least decided that it was something we'd very seriously consider were Kendrick to be offered a job at the end of his internship). It was the day that we drove out, on a reader's recommendation, to the Whale City Bakery in Davenport, and ate huevos rancheros and muffins, and then wandered up the coast and found an abalone factory and a little house where people who were selling pottery and having a party on the front porch invited us in for wine and strawberries. Eventually we ended up at a practically deserted beach, where our son rolled around pretending to be a crocodile and I laid down and fell asleep in the sand without even meaning to.

We went back yesterday - to the bakery and to the beach - but this time there were four of us. Goldie did her best to consume an entire beach's worth of sand while Indy built sandcastles with a kid he met down by the water and told us about moats and seaweed and sharks, and - once again - I fell asleep without even meaning to. When I woke up, though, I had a fever, and on the drive back I felt worse and worse.

When we got home I crawled onto the couch, and turned on the TV for Indy, then started trying to figure out what we were going to do for dinner. When you're sick as the parent of very small kids, you don't really get to peace out, you know? I mean, of course your partner picks up the slack, but still: someone will need something, or want you and only you, or whatever, and you don't get to do what you want to do, which is lay there catatonic and stare at the Kardashians.

 So I bought a crop top and high-waisted jean shorts. I'm sorry. (For future outings, methinks that crop top will be planted firmly underneath a pair of overalls, but hey, every once in awhile you've got to let out your inner Miley.)

 If you're going to snoop, snoop like a pro. (10 Mistakes To Avoid When You're Crashing With Friends, via Refinery29.)

 Perfect white button-down at a GREAT price (it's from the junior's department, though, so size up.)

This weekend was an interesting one, in light of what I talked about last week - the kinds of things we should be weighed on besides our weight. When I stuck this tattoo on my arm before spending the day running (and crawling, and swimming) through the mud I felt a little silly - because "strong" that's isn't necessarily a word I'd readily ascribe to myself...but at the end of the day, strong is exactly what I felt.

And it felt good.

It felt good because I surprised myself...but it felt even better because my children were there, watching. As young as Goldie is, it's a big deal to me to know that she got to see her mom be nervous, and then do the scary thing anyway. It's a big deal to me that she's living in a world full of women who run and jump and climb for no other reason than because they can. And I know it made an impact on Indy, seeing me and hundreds of other women - women of all ages and all sizes - pulling each other up and cheering each other on.

Lately, my son asks me, over and over, "What are the reasons why you love me?"

I tell him he is kind. I tell him that he cares about people. I tell him that he makes me laugh, that he is smart, that he is a wonderful singer. I tell him that I love him - value him - for so many reasons that I couldn't possibly count them all if you gave me a million years.

My daughter's not old enough to ask me this question, but she will be soon. And when she does, I will tell her all the reasons why she is special, why she is worthy not just of love, but of everything. I want her to feel proud of the books that she reads, of the dreams that she has, of the uncountable things that make her so remarkably her, and I want her to know that not a single one of these reasons has a thing in the world to do with the size of her thighs, or the circumference of her waist. Because I know from experience - from the years that I spent with worries about my body taking up space in my head that could have (and should have) been used for dreaming and exploring and imagining what could be - how hard it is as a woman to remember what people should really be weighing you on.

 I somehow went ahead and lost all of Goldie's bathing suits over the course of our cross-country adventure, but that's okay, because this exists.

 Just picked up this book for my son, and it's kind of awesome - we do a couple of pages every afternoon, and he gets a sticker when he completes them, and I think I'm having as much fun with it as he is.

 Going somewhere nautical-ish in the next little while? This dress is adorable and under $30.