Hold onto those hats, y'all, because this recipe is BIG. Intense. Glorious. Debauched, even.
It includes, for example, a LOT of cheese.
And pasta.
And butter.
Hold onto those hats, y'all, because this recipe is BIG. Intense. Glorious. Debauched, even.
It includes, for example, a LOT of cheese.
And pasta.
And butter.
It's tricky, this whole "writing about life as a parent online" thing. The subject of my kids' online presence is a topic I've discussed here ad nauseam - why I share some things about my children, but not others (the general rule of thumb being that I talk about them in the context of *my* experience as a mother, rather than their experiences as children), why I use pseudonyms for them (largely because I don't want to create a Google landscape for them that's based entirely on their mother's job), et cetera. It's tricky, and it's getting trickier as they get older, and start to wrap their minds around what, exactly, their mom is doing when she's jumping around in front of a camera or holding a product just-so for an Instagram or pecking away on her computer, the words interspersed with images of...them.
I've been talking about what I do with my son since he was two years old: I'm constantly explaining to him what I do for a living, why I do it, et cetera. I tell him that I write stories about my life, and that he and his sister are the biggest part of my life, so sometimes the stories include them, too. I try to explain why someone - especially someone who doesn't know us - might want to read these stories; how sometimes it feels good to know that other people are going through the same stuff that you are. I try to be extremely clear about the difference between photographs that are taken just for me, and photographs that are taken for work purposes - if Kendrick takes a picture of me that I intend to use online, I make sure the kids know what we're doing. I don't want them to confuse working with living, and the oddities of my job make that a complicated conversation to have.
And then there's taking photographs of them, which is even more complicated. I've explained to both of my kids that sometimes I'm being paid to take photographs of a kids' product, and I'd appreciate their help, but I try to be clear that they are helping me with my work, and they do not have to do this. It is not a five-year-old's obligation to contribute to the family coffers. If Indy wants to participate in a shoot that I'm being paid for, I pay him in turn - both through deposits into his college account and in a more tangible way for a kid his age, with a small toy or a treat, so he understands the difference between photographs taken for fun, and photographs taken because they're a part of my - again, not his - job.
Last night, I had an extremely long and involved dream about chocolate milk. I really, really wanted some, you see - like, needed some - but I was at my mom and dad's place, and they didn't have any. I was sitting with my mom at her dining room table absolutely panicking about how I was going to go about finding some chocolate milk, because it was an actual emergency, and you know what happened next?
I woke up, still upset about the chocolate milk situation, and then - in an single, glorious flash - remembered that I am an adult now, that I live in my own house, and that I always keep chocolate milk in the refrigerator. So I got out of bed, wandered through my pitch-black house, and stood in front of the refrigerator drinking chocolate milk straight out of the carton.
That was pretty great.
How amaze is my new crafting room?!?!?!?
hahahahahahaha
As of today, our childcare situation has shifted pretty dramatically. For the past couple of years, we've employed a part-time nanny to watch our daughter in the mornings (while our son is at school), and then occasionally watch both children in the afternoons, whenever my wildly inconsistent work schedule requires. But over the past couple of months we've realized that Goldie is clearly ready for preschool, which means that both kids are now out of the house until early afternoon - and beyond the prohibitive expense of paying for nanny + preschool (nope), I just felt like I could...make this work. Somehow. I can get most, if not all, of my work done in the morning, then pick up the kids and get to have afternoons with them.
Goofy-gazing at Goofy's Kitchen
Disneyland, in a nutshell, is worth it. It's so expensive, and so crowded, and it's also so worth it. But there are a few things that are really worth it - things that you might not expect - and a few things that really, seriously are not.
Let's discuss.
The Instagram-friendly Disneyland family portrait, which came neither easily nor naturally
Last year we went to Disneyland as a family for the very first time, and we completely fell in love with the place. Having gone in with expectations of total madness and three-hour-long lines and oversugared, undernapped, hysterical children, we were happily shocked when we emerged from our two days of Disney with oversugared, undernapped, hysterical children who were nevertheless in a state of total nirvana - as were we - and immediately decided that an annual trip was in order.
So I'm not going to say that today took us entirely by surprise. Best laid plans, et cetera.
Over and over again, I've discovered that the best moments happen when you're not even paying attention.
(Also - spoiler alert - the gnat won.)
The first thing I noticed when we walked into our room at Alisal Guest Ranch was the books: there were huge bookshelves filled with them everywhere - plus a library next door with floor-to-ceiling shelves and enormous leather couches. It reminded me of the hotels my parents and I stayed at when I was a kid, and how you could always borrow a few paperbacks from the front desk. It was only the next morning, when our kids came in to wake us up, that I realized what had felt so odd about our hotel room: there was no TV; not anywhere.
We're staying at the ranch for a couple of nights on a press trip before we head to Disneyland, and I spent the drive down to Santa Barbara figuring I'd regret having told the kids what the next stop on our trip was (imagining hearing "BUT WHEN ARE WE GOING TO DISNEYLAAAAAND?" on repeat for the duration), but we got here, dropped our stuff in our room, then ran out onto the lawn to play leapfrog. And then today we rode horses and petted zebus and gathered chicken eggs from the coops and got to sit in enormous piles of bunnies and guinea pigs (!!!!! I died) and made mosaic butterflies in the arts & crafts house, and I swear to you: I have not heard the word "Disneyland" one single time.
You know what other word I haven't heard? "TV." They haven't even noticed it's not there.
Me and my sweater dress and my Highlands c. 2013
I was just browsing through old posts and realized that my most recent post about sweaters (and there have been oh, so many, because I love few things more than a really good sweater) went up last spring. Which doesn't seem like an ideal time to post about sweaters. (Unless, I suppose, one is planning to buy them on clearance and wear them the next fall. Which sure, I did because Zara made me do it - this dress is similar - but still.)
It's fall! Let's talk about sweaters. Mostly because I spent last night fascia blasting and catching up on Bachelor In Paradise and packing, and then I spent the bulk of today driving from San Jose to Santa Barbara, and then I spent the past three hours trying to convince two small children to go to sleep in what is apparently the most exciting hotel room that has ever existed (and yes, okay, the Alisal Ranch is indeed beautiful, but still: GO TO SLEEP) and now my brain is fried.
Usually, when I do a double-take at something, it is a pair of shoes. Or, I don’t know, a couch (I do love me some couches). It’s not particularly common for me to do one while wandering through the home appliances section of a department store, because it’s hard to get all romantic about a fridge or a washer and dryer, you know?
But a few weeks ago Samsung contacted me, asking if I wanted to work with them on a review of their new FlexWash + FlexDry washer and dryer. And then a few days after that I was in Sears shooting a video, and may wanderings took me through the home appliances section…and that’s when it happened:
I did a double-take for the ages. At a home appliance.