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I'm in New York. First order of business: Stealing my mother's favorite H&M sleep shirt to wear with my leather jeans.

We joke a lot about moms and wine (mommy juice, etc etc) - but coping mechanisms associated with the stresses of parenthood are real, and serious, and look different to everyone. This is a fascinating piece on food addiction and motherhood. (My Food Addiction Helps Me Survive Motherhood, via Not Safe For Mom Group.)

All I want for Christmas is a pair of quill earrings from Meghan Markle's favorite jeweler. Eeeeee.

Lifestyle

Freezy Freakies Are Back…And Now Available In Kids’ Sizes

Last year, right around this time, I was walking downtown on my way to visit her mom at her office, and wandered by a little pop-up holiday shop. I hadn't really been planning on browsing, but then I saw what one of the booths was selling, and instantly screeched to a full stop like a Bugs Bunny cartoon (or, if we’re being generationally thematic, a Tiny Toon Adventures character).

If you did not grow up in the Northeast during the 1980s, there is a decent chance you have no idea what Freezy Freakies are. But if you did, you are PUMPED right now. I have so many feelings about these things. We’re talking intense, visceral sense memories, wherein I can actually physically revisit the joyful experience of watching the invisible unicorn appear out of thin air. (Freezy Freakies are made using thermochromic ink, which is translucent when warm, and turns bright colors when cold. But we can pretend it’s just straight-up magic; that’s more fun.) But your memories are also likely filled with intense longing and angst - even rage - because your parents probably thought they were expensive and wouldn't buy you a new pair when you left one in the park, except Cynthia had TWO pairs and it WASN'T FAIR.

Guess what?

DIARY

Ten Things Getting Divorced Has Taught Me (So Far)

This is a place I can tell you - from the bottom of my heart - that I never, ever thought I'd be. I grew up with parents who were married, and still are. My friends' parents - nearly all of them - were married, and still are. Kendrick's parents too. Married. For life.

So even though divorce is apparently something that happens to half the couples out there (at least), I never thought it would happen to me. Because I never saw divorce as an option; not even close. No matter how bad things got - and from time to time, they did get there - I honestly couldn't imagine ever pulling the trigger, so to speak. I imagined saying those words as the equivalent of setting off a bomb in the very center of our home: an unthinkable. A tragedy.

And then I did just that. Blew us to pieces.

Lifestyle

In Which I Discover The Gloriousness That Is Cardi B.

cardi b fashion nova collection

OK, so I don't exactly know who Cardi B. is. I know she's a singer, but couldn't tell you any of her songs. I have a vague memory of her being a...Real Housewife, maybe? Or some kind of reality person? And then...getting in a fight with...someone? Who didn't think she should be a singer?

 

Decor

Kids’ Rooms (In Progress)

Pendant Lamp | Table | Blanket | Bed | Rug

Here is a nice - but also slightly vexing - thing about my kids' new bedrooms: They are huge. Like, twice the size of their last ones. (Thank you, Gods Of Real Estate That Isn't Located In Silicon Valley.)

And like I said, that's nice, and they love them, but those cavernous, popcorn-ceilinged (why) rooms presented a bit of a decorating conundrum...which was compounded by the fact that on moving day, I discovered that neither of their beds could be removed from their old bedrooms without being disassembled. And since both of those beds were from Ikea (his; hers) and thus required Herculean disassembly and reassembly abilities, and because the idea of having to do all that Herculean dis- and re-assembling on the exact same day in which I was upending my entire life was less-than-appealing, I just sort of...left them there. (Kendrick came and got them later; don't worry, I didn't bequeath The Ikea Problem to the new owners.)

DIARY

I Think We’re Done Here

View from my backyard, Friday morning.

Honestly, you guys. You'd think that by this point 2018 would have, as my mother would say, had the biscuit. Except the hits just keep on coming.

So here's what the last couple of days have looked like (and please scroll to the bottom if you want to skip hearing The Tale Of My Weekend, and just want to find out how to help those who have been seriously impacted by the events in California over the past week). I started hearing reports about the fires as I was driving home on Thursday night. By Friday morning, the view from my backyard was that picture you see up there: a huge ball of smoke that just kept growing and growing and growing, getting wider and taller and darker with each passing hour. Planes flying directly overhead carrying water and emergency rescue supplies. The whole deal.

DIARY

Loud House

Me, in the bedroom that's just mine. (Image by @smiechbuziak)

When I think about the first time I lived in LA - right after college, when I moved out here to look for acting work - there's rarely anyone else there, in those memories. It wasn't like I spent all my time alone - I had friends, and I had my boyfriend - but most of the time, whether by choice or not...I was. Me, at the do-it-yourself car wash, feeding quarters into the soap machine. Me, driving north towards Santa Barbara, then turning around when I got there and driving right back. Me, wandering through the Fairfax Farmer's Market. Buying a donut, just to have a thing to do.

I was so lonely.

Makeup & Beauty

How To Have The Skin Of A 35-Year-Old (In 17 Easy Steps!)

Above: Jordan in a leather minidress massaging a box of french hand creams for work. Below: Me, trying to imagine what it’s like to be Jordan, lovingly gazing at a half-empty bottle of face toner.

by Erin

I’m one of those almost-40-year-old middle class white feminists who eschews the patriarchy but then spends like 5% of my income on skincare. Don’t tell me to smile, but if I do, know that 15 tons of retinol is keeping the trout mouth at bay. Is that what retinol even does? Actually, I have no idea. You should probably take beauty advice from me.

Makeup & Beauty

Native’s Brand-New Body Washes & Bar Soaps Are Just As Great As You’d Expect

My friend Alisa has been trying to convince me to switch to natural deodorant for years. And for years, I have resisted despite the fact that I know that the aluminum in many deodorant brands has been linked to a host of illnesses, including breast cancer, because my only experiences with natural deodorants have been…shall we say, less than ideal. (OK, they were terrible. I have no idea how a deodorant can actually make you smell worse, but there you go.) 

But I’ve been hearing about Native Deodorant for awhile now - it’s one of those cult items that everyone who’s into natural products is all aflutter about. I posted about it on Instagram, asking whether anyone had tried it, and was stunned by the outpouring of love for the brand. So I tried it myself, and now I get it. It just…works. It’s great. And I especially love that the scents are subtle and unisex; I like the idea that one brand can work for the entire family (not that I’d share my deodorant with a man, but that’s another story). 

Just A Little Encouragement

Money Talk

Whee, responsibility!

I hired a financial planner, and it is already changing my life, and so I am going to take a minute to explain why I think you should maybe do the same.

OK, so I have a very emotional relationship with money. A lot of people do, I imagine, but the extent to which my financial situation in any given moment has an immediate and profound effect on my mental state in that moment is kind of overwhelming. Literally, it goes like this: Book job --> happy. Do not book job --> utterly panicked, fully devastated, and completely incapable of taking a step back to realize that I've gone ahead and made the hustling lifestyle work for a solid fifteen years now, and will almost certainly continue to make it work going forward, because that's just common sense.