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favorite podcasts
One of my favorite things about living in the year 2013 is podcasts. Among my favorites:
- spilled milk which is like having two giggly foodie pals over for dinner on the back porch
- the sounds in my head which is like listening to the hippest radio station with a goofy self-deprecating DJ and no ads!
- the writer’s almanac which, though just five minutes long, is like drinking a large glass of pinot noir while looking at the mountains
- the longest shortest time which is like talking on the phone to your funny best friend about how your baby won’t stop crying and having your friend successfully calm you down and make you laugh.
I want to highlight the longest shortest time as I have a bunch of readers who are new moms and because she’s just launched two cool campaigns.
The first: free cards that you can send for to jump start conversations in playgroups, library meet-ups, drop off at your OB’s office, pin on the bulletin board at your local playground, and the like. Printed on heavy card stock with funny quotes from the show, they are beautifully done:
Read more about those and order them for free right here.
And: she just launched a kickstarter campaign so she can afford to begin a whole new season of episodes. I love Hillary’s style–she has a wonderfully relaxed way of interviewing and asking all the questions you hope she’ll ask. One of my favorite episodes had personal interviews with the two sides of the sleep-training debate. It was so refreshing for me to hear it all hashed out like that. I think once you have the chance to listen to a few episodes, you’ll be pledging for a second season, just like I did!
by the way, I use Apple’s free podcast app to easily download and listen to podcasts on my iphone when I’m cleaning up the kitchen, driving, or walking around in circles waiting for Joan to fall asleep.
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the sip and see
A couple weekends ago we had friends over for a sip ‘n see. A term stolen from the south (I think? maybe old south?), it means people are invited over to eat and drink and see the new baby. A typical party, except all we had to do as hosts was tidy up the apartment because the guests brought all the food and drink. In fact, moments before the 10 a.m. start time, the four of us were sitting in the living room, just peacefully waiting and twiddling our thumbs instead of dashing around getting everything perfect.
they brought:
- Coconut bread and marmalade
- Blueberry galettes (these are pretty easy and incredibly elegant!)
- our favorite Barismo coffee
- mimosa ingredients
- Bacon cheddar scones
- a heaping fruit salad
Babies are at their best in the morning and it’s always nice to have a party at the start of the weekend when everyone has plenty of time to get errands done afterwards (it reminded me of Lux’s first birthday party). We loved having the chance to just sit around our living room and catch up with everyone (most of them from Joe’s graduate school days, thus some of our first friends in Boston). Our new apartment isn’t ideal for hosting dinner parties, but it is a great spot to lounge in the morning sun.
Food is love. If, as studies claim, experiences and memories ultimately render more satisfaction than possessions, my money is on the gift of food as the best gift you can give these days.
- Coconut bread and marmalade
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Rockport
We’re going up to Rockport for the holiday weekend. Lots of people in one house. Once you’re the one bringing noisy kids, you don’t mind this type of arrangement. In fact, it will probably be remarkably less work for me altogether! AND: I think there’s going to be a hammock. Sold.
Anyway, I know you all must have favorites up there…do tell! I’m a little clueless and haven’t had time to troll Yelp yet. So far I’ve just looked at Anna’s pretty photos a lot (that’s one of her’s up top). I mean, Bear Skin Neck? That’s an obvious first step.
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a volcano seen from an airplane
I had two really amazing pizzas in the last week and I feel they should not go undocumented.
On Saturday after going to Nahant Beach we drove back by way of Cambridge and stopped at Area Four. I thought of Area Four because the restaurant sits on an enormous lawn and has outdoor seating, two very rare accessories in Boston. Rumor among chefs in Boston is that no one has a pizza oven like Area Four. It’s a legit-blazing-stacks-of-firewood type of thing. I think their coffeeshop is pretty slick too, if you’re by yourself and don’t mind listening to hussy startup business talk from the MIT boys who go there and will be forced to sit right next to you by the community-table-style seating.
Joe ordered some murky craft beer and I ordered a Bantam cider that came in a big glass and looked like straight champagne. Made in Cambridge, local apples and honey and fizz and 6% alcohol…delicious. We split one large fennel sausage and pickled banana pepper pizza, $25. I think the tomato sauce might have been composed completely of tomatoes roasted by hand. OR SOMETHING. I kept saying “this sauce…is amazing.” And then there was the housemade sausage. The waiter told us they make 300 lbs of it a week. The most crumbly delicious sausage, doused in fennel seeds. After you’ve had this sausage you just want to never order sausage again until you can eat there. The next day we were sitting on the Common debating whether to go eat there again for lunch. We didn’t, but maybe we will this weekend.
Then on Monday I met some girls with their kiddos over by the North End. We wanted pizza…and fortunately I remembered my friend highly recommending Galleria Umberto (actually I didn’t “remember” but I had saved the place as a bookmark on my Yelp app and looked it up, thank goodness). I’d been wanting to go for awhile but trouble is Galleria Umberto is only open for lunch, only on weekdays, and when they sell out, they close up. Since we were in the sweet spot we called ahead and sent two delegates to bring it back to the park. Now, I am a burned cheese fan. I once put just cheese on a tray, put it in the oven, burned it, and ate it. Clearly these fellows are too because this pizza was like a volcano seen from an airplane. And the dough–almost a sourdough? So proofed and thick that Lux ate it like a sandwich. Perfect for kids because they could trot off holding a square and it didn’t decompose on the way….if you’re wondering if stay at home moms in Boston just eat great food all day, yes, that is the case.
Anyway, two pizzas, one week. Can’t stop thinking about them.
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at Nahant Beach
I was up early with Joan on Saturday and twiddled her toes patiently waiting for Joe and Lux to open their eyes. Then I pounced and declared we were going to the beach. They barely had time to find their swimsuits before we were outside, picking up coffee and egg sandwiches on the way (after a long pause to debate what was the perfect driving-to-the-beach music….Ron Sexsmith and MGMT were chosen).
The weekends are nearly vital to my sanity right now as I wade very slowly through the first month of life with two. I enjoy the time with the four of us together so much. I am accustomed to satisfying one child, and trying to fully satisfy two at all times has been overwhelming. But with Joe around we can relax and take turns with each girl, chasing after bouncing Lux or curling up with cuddly Joan. Many times we flop exhausted on the couch at the end of the day, reliving the funny things that happend, and feeling more like partners in this adventure than ever.
If I just stumbled on these photos, I would think hmm, posed photo? A sling and a bathing suit, really? But it happened, we were at the beach and it was glorious but Joan wasn’t sleeping blissfully in her little beach tent as I planned. So into the sling she went, to fall asleep somewhere between the tumult of the waves and the steady thud of my heart. On second thought, I think her plan was better than mine anyways. The best part was I could flip up the extra sling fabric to cover her as a sunshade while we walked. Nothing goes with polka dots like wild tussah silk, am I right?
This is my penultimate post for the Sakura Bloom Sling Diaries. I’m wearing a luxe wild silk sling in shiitake. My four previous sling diary posts are right here. If you’re thinking about buying a sling, My Corner View has a great introduction to them. And Goodnight Mush wrote up a super helpful fabric comparison too.
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at home
July babies. Both my girls have come in the heat of the summer. Their rumblings will forever be tied to clammy nights under the steady breeze of a fan, to walks on heated pavement ambling from shade to shade; the slow avalanche of their births both begun on heady evenings when the sun had only just blinked to dark. Boston is drifting under a week-long heatwave right now. I do so love these cooped up mornings: no expectation of leaving the apartment, the windows closed to the heat and one or two air conditioner units humming away.
I have mentioned before that I like to imagine motherhood as the lazy summertime of a woman’s life. With Joan Bea’s arrival last week, again I encounter the bliss of a day less full, a project not started, a voyage left for another time. We all have voices within us that speak louder and even compete at times: the creative urge, the rowdy adventuring spirit, the maternal leaning, the enthusiasm and passion of a new idea, the quiet tug to rest and be still. I am happy to tell you that it is significantly easier with the second baby to relax and enjoy, to listen to the voice that says cherish, relish, savor.
I know Boston’s isn’t the only city anticipating a heat index over 100 today and tomorrow. Let’s all have a tall glass of water and savor the breeze when you discover it.
I’m so grateful for this project from Sakura Bloom–I fear that many of these moments would not have been captured without it! I’m wearing the Sakura Bloom pure baby linen sling in twilight. -
weekend notes
This weekend I briefly thought strawberry picking sounded fun. Then I remembered that would mean me crouching in a field with the sun overhead.
Instead we walked over to the greenway fountains near the North End. I am a big fan of these fountains, except when it is really sunny because there is no shade for the weary over there. I picked out three pastries for us at the new bread + butter, including a “nutella danish” that was like a flattened cinnamon roll with nutella in the middle….um hello. After promising Lux blueberries from Haymarket to lure her into the stroller, we stopped for cappuccinos at Caffe Paradiso. It was noon and a man ordered a campari with lemon on the rocks–that’s when you know it’s authentic Italian spot.
I went to the library by myself and paged through the new Martha Stewart magazine. There was a feature on the Leelanau Peninsula where my family vacations every year. Of course the year that we can’t go and I’m sad about it, Martha Stewart does a feature on it. Whatever. Anyway, they didn’t mention Cherry Republic in Glen Arbor. Big oversight, ladies.
I made this one-pan-pasta that’s very viral right now. It’s viral because is the quintessential Pinterest recipe–it results in one great photo and involves one great tagline–“all in one pan!” I didn’t really like how it turned out. Because I am devoted to my cookbooks I’ve mostly avoided Pinterest oddities, but the number of times I’ve heard someone say something has totally flopped from there is amazing. I’m sure there’s a Pinterest fail tumbler out there, but I don’t even want to look.
If you don’t mind using two pans, I think this summer pasta recipe from Bridget is 5x more delicious and just as easy.
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Memory at Haymarket
oh, the memories we all have of food! When do they form? I think of just summer alone: salty chips and candy bars at a beach stand, strawberry ice cream on a hot afternoon, lemonade after a long swim, cheeseburgers with friends, tomatoes off the vine and sprinkled with salt, corn cobs spun in butter, cold oysters mingled with tart mignonette, melty peach pie in evening, hot doughnuts in the morning…. We seem to pull our strongest memories from childhood, the flavors melded with moments, locations, the presence of loved ones, all of it recalled in an instant with just a taste or a whiff.
Toddlers seem to me to be nearly fruitarians. They just love it. Look for them at a party and you’ll find them all round the fruit tray, pinching watermelon squares, bundling blueberries into their hands for later, telltale strawberry stains long since dried on their shirt collars. To love something as a toddler is to want it over and over—a book only gets better on the 3rd read; a lunch, then a dinner, of only fresh raspberries is never refused.
Imagine the wonder of a market to a toddler’s eye: the fruit heaped, piled, trays lining tables, tables forming rows fading off into the distance. The fruit of Boston’s Haymarket is not farmer’s market fruit: fresh from the fields and only just ripe to sell. Instead it is overripe, really on the verge of rotten. It is opulence from grocery stores across the city, an order that was overestimated and must be sold quickly or wasted altogether. The vendors will warn you, “eat these right away,” as they hand over a bag of mush-soft avocados. If you’re planning a party that night and want an enormous bowl of guacamole, a margarita pitcher sharp with fresh limes, or mojitos brimming with trampled mint, it’s perfect. Otherwise, think fast.
I remember coming to Haymarket when I was due, so very overdue, with Lux. I bought lemons and made a lemon cake. Though I’m now only at 33 weeks, I still feel a bit like the fruit piled here. Bursting at the seams here and there, even softer in spots than you might expect. Getting dressed in your third trimester, I’ve always felt, is a bit like slipping a rubber band over a ripe peach. Abundant, and preposterous.
I’m wearing Lux in sakura bloom simple silk in amber. All of these photos were taken by Cambria Grace, a dreamy Boston photographer. Lux and I had so much fun wandering the market with her and Joe and I are absolutely over the moon about these photos (she got smiles from Lux we never seem to managed to capture!).
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Cambria, Boston Calling, Weekend!
snacking on waffles at SausNext week I’ll be posting another Sakura Bloom Sling Diary. I’ve just realized I haven’t really explained what that is: the Sakura Bloom sling is sort of like the BMW of the baby carrying world–simple, classy, and high quality. They make slings out of pure linen or silk in gorgeous colors (they’re also designed and made in Massachusetts, win). They’ve done several rounds of selecting a dozen or so moms to show how slings fit into their lifestyle; a good excuse for a lot of cute baby photos, essentially. We don’t get paid, but we do get two slings for the photos, for free. One of my favorite bloggers, Che & Fidel, was a sling mama. This round, the moms are a fascinating bunch, from all over the world. I learn so much from just looking through their photos of life with children.
But next week’s photos are extra special because I met up with a Boston photographer to do them. Cambria and I met at blogshop back in February. I thought she was hilarious and then I went home and saw her stuff and realized the talent that had been sitting next to me. We spent an afternoon wandering around Haymarket and I can’t wait to share the photos on Wednesday. Meanwhile, check out her blog to see behind-the-scenes photos of her adventures around Boston.
Happy Weekend! We’ll be at the Boston Calling concert on Sunday–most of the time with Lux, and a bit without. I’m excited for all the bands, but most especially Andrew Bird. And The National of course (but I find them a little dark at times).
I hope some of you are actually getting a THREE day weekend too! Does anyone have favorite Memorial-Day-in-Boston activities? Parades where each float is required to throw you candy?
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Dream Life
One question I’m often asked: “if you did work, what would be the ideal situation?”
To this, I’ve always blithely answered something like, Twelve hours a week consulting for small businesses on how to be a little more creative or unique in their field. “Just fire up the ol’ mind a little,” I would say, temporarily turning into a Texan rancher. A small part of me might have imagined a lovely Italian speaking nanny that would show up for those hours and whisk Lux out to adventures and then come back and bake some cookies to go with our afternoon espresso. But realistically I knew I would fit those hours into nap time, settle down at the desk just as Lux settled down into her crib. This sounded perfect, it sounded quite have-it-all, to use the phrase society is obsessed with stamping on things.
(And it’s a testament to how far from an infant a toddler is, how predictable our days, that I even had those thoughts at all.)
Well for the past couple of weeks I’ve had that gig, and I’ve been rather shocked by tiring it is. Maybe I’m just out of practice with how people turn on for work, and then turn off again. I see the emails come in and I want to jump on them right away. I hate to click away the phone calls that I have to send to voicemail until later that afternoon. And then nap time arrives and I just want to take a nap. Or sit by the window and smooth nutella onto small crackers for an hour. Or pull out the ipad, open flipboard and read all the blogs. Instead I set to work, make calls, pin things, click links, email people back, write lots of barely legible lists in my notebook. People call me back when Lux has already woken up and we’re at the park. Unbelievable, I sigh in exasperation when I see their calls, nap time is obviously over now.
If I do complain to Joe about the difference between his life and mine (and this happens every eight weeks or so, on some night when I’m exhausted and should be sleeping instead of talking) I complain that he gets to speak with adults who value his opinions and perspective on a daily basis. There’s something rather satisfying about that, rather than someone who shouts “no no no no” to your suggestion of a banana snack, don’t you think?
And that’s definitely my favorite thing. There’s never going to be anything like working for someone and hearing, “awesome idea. I love it. do it.” (And I know most of you would love to hear this just a little bit more at your day job.)
I think I can get better with practice and a few good habits. Set up a work email and only check it when I can respond. Tell people realistic deadlines and remain calm around the “this is a triple-panic-priority!” mindset. Bill the hell out of the hours I spend brainstorming and dish washing. But–what is the point of this post, anyway?–the old truism that the grass is greener in that yard way over there? I think so. You get what you want, and it turns out to be rather a lot of work.