I've been on the hunt for one of those cute matched sweatsuit sets that I've seen all over the 'gram, but have discovered that an unfortunate number of them are either cropped (nothankyou #muffins) or north of $75 (which, nope).
And then I found The Sweatsuit.
Marty is so helpful
The bloom has, shall we say, fallen off the shelter-in-place rose.
I am enormously privileged during this time of COVID-19; that fact does not escape me. My parents are in New York City, which is frightening, but they are being careful, and are healthy. I have friends who have fallen sick, but all have recovered. I have a porch where my children can grow a garden and breathe the ocean air. I have the ability to teach them - not nearly at the rate requested by their teachers, of course, but I also have the sense to know that we are all doing the best we can, and that is enough. I am an introvert, vastly prefer my couch to a bar stool, and have worked from home for most of my adult life, so puttering around my house for most of every day honestly feels like more of the same.
One of my all-time favorite small shops, Boho Bungalow, sells the actual cutest gifts ever, so I thought I'd curate a little Mother's Day guide based on their offerings. Shop small, y'all!
You may have noticed that I've been slightly quieter than usual around these parts. I don't think I need to explain why, but beyond the whole "teach two children with wildly specific, yet totally different schedules while also theoretically working to keep a roof over their heads," there's also the fact that I have a book coming out in two weeks (!) and then a draft of another book due to my editor in three. (Weeks. That would be three weeks.)
So I've decided that I'm going to take it easy on the blogging schedule during Pandemic Times. I hope you guys understand (I have a feeling you do). But that doesn't mean that I'm not going to be popping up around the Internets both here and elsewhere in the next month or two - I have articles in the works for Mashable and The Washington Post and a few podcast interviews on the schedule, and am also hosting a virtual event on May 7 at 6:30PST with Diesel: A Brentwood Bookstore. I'll be there, glass of wine in hand, and I hope you guys can join!
WHAT.
This, so you know, is not my skin. My skin is red, and reactive, and the opposite of even. But between the fact that I (finally) caved and started doing an actual, grown-up Skincare Regimen, and the fact that I - like most of you - have spent the past few weeks going almost entirely makeup-free (not to mention Botox-free and eyelash-free), and slathering on oils and potions like it's a part-time job, because right now it sort of...is.
Which has all added up to the best skin I've had in a solid decade. Maybe more, because my 20's were many things, but "a time of thoughtful self-care" was not one of them.
I am exhausted.
I most definitely should not be: I'm sleeping literally more than I ever have, and doing oh my god, so much less - on the work side, at least; the parenting side is obviously, ah...intense. But even on the days when Kendrick has the kids, it's like I can barely keep my eyes open. I sleep for 10 hours, at least. Nap for two hours, at least. A walk around the block feels like the equivalent of running a marathon: I cannot do it, which is fine, because I also do not want to do it.
Lest all this sound like perhaps somebody has come down with a case of The Depressions, though: I really don't think so. I'm anxious about money and the health of my family and, you know, THE STATE OF THE WORLD, for sure. But I'm also smiling more easily, and more often.
Those kitchen floors were no bueno.
When I first moved into this place, I resolved to keep all my MUST! RENOVATE! HOUSE! tendencies in check. It's a rental, and it's one that's going to be torn down whenever I vacate it (which will obviously be...ahhhh...later than expected, as my down payment money has been evaporating by the day, WHEEEEE). But I am still a firm believer in fixing the things you cannot abide, even in a rental - because you live there. And one thing that I knew I'd have to fix here was the truly abominable linoleum floor: It was chipped, and stained, and made the whole kitchen/dining area - otherwise the loveliest part of the house - feel dark.
Such a fun weekend project!
Hahahahahahahaha remember when weekends existed? It's Tuesday; seems like as good of a day as any for a ludicrous, labor-intensive edible project involving enormous quantities of sugar.
Okay. Now that we've established that you're making Peepshi, because of course you are, let me tell you how to do it. This geniusness was originally created by Serious Eats, but now that I've made one batch and am thus clearly an expert, I'm going to tell you the little discoveries that I made over the course of the Peepshi-making process that I thought were extra wonderful.
Parents these days are not OK; this we know. Our current crisis has thrown the extent to which our system fails working parents into high relief. We already had to do far too much, all at the same time, and somehow "make it work" even though, for most of us, the avenues of support from everyone to our employers to our spouses to the federal government amounted to nil.
Still: One of the major questions on my mind right now is how all of this is going to affect my kids. It'll have a lasting impact, for sure...but what will that impact be? I reached out to parenting and relationship coach Graziella Simonetti of Your Parenting Pals to find out what we can expect - and how we can help.
We are in what is likely, and hopefully, a once in a generation type crisis. With that comes an uncertainty over how this prolonged stress will impact us and our children. We wish had a magical wand that gave us the power to say what life will look like when things settle or to share, with certainty, what can be done to protect ourselves and our children from the trauma. We don’t. What we know is that right now, there is a lot of uncertainty, and uncertainty can cause anxiety and stress. This stressful event doesn’t necessarily have to turn into toxic stress. The goal is to make it as tolerable and manageable as possible.
