Me, about to be entertained while stuck in traffic.

It was Kendrick who first introduced me to Audible. (If you’re not familiar with Audible, it’s a site where you can download and listen to books, magazines, and radio and TV programs; you can download a book as part of a free thirty-day trial trial here if you want to try it out.) He’d been using the Audible app on his phone to listen to books on his way to and from school, making the hour-and-a-half drive both more fun and more constructive: he chose books he’d always wanted to read but had never had time to dive into, like Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s One Hundred Years Of Solitude. And then we drove cross-country with two kids, and discovered that Audible isn’t just a cool way to easily access and listen to tons and tons of books – it’s a way for the whole family to listen to them together.

When driving long distances, there’s always a temptation for each person to settle into their “thing.” The driver is listening to the radio; the passenger is reading a book; the kids are watching iPads or drawing or whatever. But to us, a big part of the constant road-tripping that we do is getting to spend all that concentrated time in the car together – and honestly, there are few things more fun than getting to introduce your children to your favorite books from childhood (while getting to enjoy them yourself all over again). So we decided to incorporate audio books into our drives, making the discovery - and rediscovery - of these books not just a solitary joy, but a family pastime.

We're clearing out inventory for the start of the new season (and because Erin would like to be able to be able to turn around in her office), and that means it's time for a big old end-of-season sale: 20% off of everything from now through September 5.

What's On Sale

 Blankets! I take these blankets with me everywhere. I use them as throws in the winter and beach blankets in the summer. I leave one in the car to cover my kids with if they get cold or if some blanket-requiring disaster occurs (which happens more than you'd think). This one is covering a white futon in my daughter's room that I don't feel like cleaning every thirty seconds. I've even started taking one or two with me when I travel, because they're so soft that they make even the scratchiest, most miserable hotel bed cozy. (I really do this. I know it's a little weird.)

These past few days there's been a chill in the air during the walk to school, and so I've actually been wearing...wait for it...pants. (I KNOW. I also know that it's debatable whether jeans count as pants, but in my world they're basically a tuxedo.) The ones I'm wearing above are no longer available online, but I found a bunch of really great bellbottoms, below.

I tried this sweatshirt on in a little shop in Carmel last weekend, and it is lightweight and cozy and soft and makes me laugh even though I don't quite get it. It's honestly the best sweatshirt ever (well, okay, maybe second-best, after this one), and I seriously wish I had just bought the thing (although...I guess I still can, because of this thing called the Internet).

Happened.

Pictured above is my grade-school friend Rachel at 9 years old, with Donald Trump's name written on her forehead. When this photo first popped up in my Facebook feed it gave me some serious pause, because I've known Rachel for a long time now, and I cannot imagine a universe in which this makes sense - even given the fact that this is a photo of her when she was in elementary school, and at the time Trump was only a real estate developer (if a polarizing one).

The story behind this photograph really needed to be shared, so I asked for Rachel's permission to share it here.

The first time I went to a minor league baseball game, I was ten million months pregnant, living in temporary housing in an unfamiliar city, and seeeeriously unexcited about spending a couple of hours parked on a hard bench watching other people drink beer (although I was very much excited about the garlic fries situation). Let's just say Kendrick had to do some convincing.

Flash forward two years, and I'm the one googling the San Jose Giants' schedule to make sure we get to a game or two every year, because let me tell you: minor league games are fun. They're all the good parts of major league games (hot dogs, beer in plastic cups, generalized camaraderie, possibly fireworks, et cetera et cetera) except hot dogs aren't eighteen dollars, the parking is across the street, not twenty miles and a shuttle bus away, and there are bouncy castles. With no lines, so your children can actually bounce on them. You just park, walk across the street, bounce a bunch, whack a few whiffleballs, grab some food, and go sit down wherever...because there is plenty of room.

Basically, going to a minor league baseball game feels like making a friend who really likes you and wants you to like them back, as opposed to trying to get to know that kid who's way popular and unattainable and such, and who you have to put a bunch of work into getting to know before you get to get to the part where you have fun.