The past week has been spent adjusting. (And painting walls and installing lights and putting things up and pulling things down and ripping tape off of boxes that appear to be multiplying like mogwais while we sleep and trying to find somewhere, anywhere, that will feed us Thai food and oh right, my final book edit is due on Friday, nbd...but mostly adjusting.)

What's presented an interesting challenge - and one that I didn't expect - is that both Indy and Goldie have changed a lot almost overnight (or at least that's how it feels), and so while we figure out all the things you have to figure out when you move to a new place, we're also having to figure out how to adjust to our kids' newfound needs. Goldie used to sleep what felt like all day long; suddenly she's dropped down to one nap, with maybe a little bonus rest in the early evening. She moves now. A lot. Basically, she's like tiny, extremely cute and very awake lightning.

With Indy, it's more of a situational shift; his school out here doesn't start for another couple of weeks, and even when school does start, we don't have the regular routine set up out here that we had back at home, with lessons on this day and playdates on that day and...you know, stuff to do.

To come hang out with me over on Instagram (I'm @ramshackleglam), because I'm loooooving it these days. (For more on my little Instagram overhaul, click here.)

...Or, more accurately, the best dad.

Father's Day is always a tough one. I mean, seriously...how many ties and belts can you buy a guy? For this Father's Day, I wanted to get Kendrick a present that he could use, you know? And, more specifically, use to do something he's wanted to do for a long time, but has never really had the time for: getting outside and just going. For the past couple of years he's spent all of his time either in class or driving back and forth between Yale and our place, and I know he'd love to make being outdoors a real part of his everyday, and so I thought I'd get him something to inspire him to do just that.

Needlepoint by my friend Erin

I loved our first house so much. I loved the leopard carpet, and the gold hinges, and the stone wall in the yard. The strange Greek myth wallpaper and the attic bookshelf. Mostly I loved that it was our first house.

When I started looking at places out here, I sort of resigned myself to the fact that we wouldn't find anything as sweet and charming or special as our little Tarrytown colonial; houses out here tend to be more of the all-one-level popcorn-ceiling ranch-style variety (until you get into the hills, when they become ridiculously gorgeous rustic cabin-type places, but are also, like, three million dollars per bedroom). I knew I'd love wherever we ended up, but I figured I'd love it because...I don't know, because of what we put into it. Not because of the house itself.