Honestly, is there anything like a midday hammock nap break?

Except for birthday parties involving balloons and best friends. Those are pretty great, too.

Our friend Matt is visiting from Ohio this weekend, so we spent a couple of days alternating between hanging out in the backyard and doing Best Of Our Town tours. Farmer's Markets to pick up stuff for dinner, nature walks by the lake, waterfalls, cobblestones...that kind of thing.

See that?

That is a happy and relaxed person, right there.

I've never been to Cape Cod before in my life (we stayed in Chatham, where our friends Colin and Leslie's wedding was held) but by Sunday morning I was sort of casually browsing the real estate section and fantasizing about living in a weathered shingle house with a big, white Nora Ephron movie-esque porch, spending my afternoons drinking Arnold Palmers and eating steamed clams.

Or something.

It was like the weekend that kept on giving.

A few more favorite bits and pieces:

{ Watching the birds with Daddy ... }

One of the best side-effects of moving has been that we've made a whole bunch of truly wonderful new friends. Pre-move I remember worrying about that a lot, actually - wondering whether I'd make friends who I just hung around with because...I don't know, we were on the same local committee or something, not because we really had anything in common. Worrying that the years when you bond over the things like enormous life questions and crazy experiences were behind me.

Worry that I wouldn't make friends who - for example - might enjoy a good mustache photo op quite as much as I do.

As it turns out, new parenthood leaves college in the dust when it comes to things like enormous life questions and crazy experiences.

You know how they say that mothers get all nostalgic and weepy and fall into little my-baby's-growing-up-too-fast emotional pieces during the first haircut?

Nah.

I mean, trust me: I have plenty of weepy my-baby's-growing-up-too-fast moments. Plenty.

This just wasn't one of them; I was more or less thrilled that we made it through the entire experience without tears or, you know...stab wounds caused by contact between a flailing baby head and an errant pair of scissors.

I'm heading to Colorado next week with Better TV, so the plan Saturday morning was to go shopping and pull together my wardrobe for all five segments.

Instead, I got distracted by wallets.

I have a thing for zip-arounds, you see, and my current wallet is an overstuffed disaster zone. Sure, I could just clean it out...but honestly, I feel like given my Costanza Tendencies, I should really just own one that's the size of a basketball. Anyway, I found both of these pretty things at T.J. Maxx, couldn't figure out whether to go for classic navy or fun purple-with-studs, Instagram-sourced to see which one you guys thought I should choose...and then you couldn't decide either: the vote was split perfectly down the middle. So I got all paralyzed by indecision and left without buying either.

On Saturday, I decided to ignore the fact that a blizzard was on the way and dress up like I was headed to a picnic in the park.

I was heading into the city for a baby shower for one of my oldest and dearest friends, Thomasin, and for these kinds of events I usually like to wear pretty, floaty dresses...but, like I said: blizzard. And then I realized that I was about to board a train headed to Grand Central Station at 11AM on the day of the St. Patrick's Day Parade, and that the chances that I would be surrounded by more drunk teenagers than I'd ever seen before in my life was one hundred percent.

And so I decided to go for an outfit that made me feel totally elegant and chic and feminine, but that also involved pants. What I wore: a Gypsy05 sweater (previously seen here) paired with silk pajama-style pants from T.J. Maxx, CC Corso Como nude pumps, and a mint-green Botkier purse.

Not that silk pants and heels make a ton of sense in a blizzard either, but hey: we know I'm not someone who's particularly prone to weather-appropriate sartorial choices in general. Baby steps.