Very cute. Very loud.
Q. Dear Jordan,
I was wondering if you ever wrote a post about how you and Kendrick dealt with getting your children to sleep through the night? My baby girl still wakes up multiple times a night, often winds up in our bed, and still needs to nurse to sleep. I don't think I can handle full-on "crying it out," but I just started working again full-time and I am EXHAUSTED.
This bag is legitimately the only thing making me want to get dressed.
Bag c/o Shorts (similar) Lipstick Sandals
When I was in my early twenties, I did a lot of shopping on Canal Street, in New York City. Well, not on Canal Street itself; that's mostly fruit stands and storefronts selling plastic frogs and three-for-the-price-of-one Big Apple t-shirts, all of which I'm all stocked up on, thanks. Where I did my shopping was in the fluorescent-lit, cement walled rooms above and behind these storefronts; you got to them by following someone muttering "real bags gucci chanel gucci chanel" down an alleyway, and then through a locked door and down winding hallways until you got to the place where the bags were stacked ten-deep on white plastic tables.
The product I decided to leave out of my makeup routine for a bit, why late people are the best people (as explained via stick figures), and a Facebook phenomenon that I find deeply confusing. (And more, of course.)
Potato chips: the accessory that never goes out of style.
Vintage Dress (similar) All Saints Sandals Sunglasses
One of my most constant refrains, when it comes to clothing: "It's super cute. I have nowhere to wear it." And it's true: jeans and t-shirts just make more sense for a job that mostly involves sitting in front of a computer, and a life that involves children who run really, really fast, mostly in the direction of things that they shouldn't run towards, like the edges of cliffs and such.
Ah, the Internet, the mostly mythical village where mothers come seeking support, and mostly click off feeling mildly judged and crisply jealous of someone else’s postpartum abs. If you’re looking for another article about why you should’ve breastfed for three more years (too late now) or you’re fishing for a panic attack spawned by another global tragedy, the Internet would like you to take a seat in its wide lap.
The Internet is also a place where we can choose the parts of ourselves, our days, that we wish to present. We can be sure that all of our photos only show us from the waist up, share articles from the New Yorker that makes us seem impossibly intelligent, and #humblebrag about how we spent the day with our kids going on adventures because we are a Cool Mom. Despite what I share, I am usually wearing yoga pants, reading about some trashy political scandal, and contemplating why Legoland even exists.
Here are some of the things I don’t generally share on the internet about how this whole parenting thing is going:
