Dolled Up

the dollhouse book 5

One of Bee’s favorite toys to play with at Grandma’s house is a custom Victorian dollhouse my mother designed and built in her hey day (I know!). Bee loves helping the tiny baby take a bath in the miniature tub, or wash dishes and fold laundry in the kitchen (Dollhouse World clearly produces some very domestically productive babies). And although I have plans to build our own dollhouse together someday, Bee’s a bit young for the task now. Enter, The Dollhouse Book.



Swirls & Snowflakes

summer festivals

So, old news. I’m a social introvert, one that loves people and is fascinated by their stories and perspectives and nuances, but one that needs to take a nap directly after speaking with said people. It takes ALL of my energy to widen my eyes in the right moments and to figure out how to hold onto that thought I had – the one that won’t be relevant in three seconds because the conversation has turned a corner into, like, Connecticut and my thought was basically somewhere in the vicinity of a Boise backyard. I live in my head, where my thoughts churn like slow ice cream, folding over and over into one another until something deliciously insightful forms, a tasty dessert for my soul to dine on.



Happy Birthday, Bee

kid playing ukelele

Hey lady! You’re two. I think I’m supposed to say that time flies, but good gracious, this day feels like an eternity ago. So it didn’t fly. It kind of chugged along slowly on a rickety wooden track, uphill and bumpy – start and stop and red and green – but Bee, you know how much I love a great train ride.



Messes & Magic

toddler messy rooms

I found a remnant of blue Play-Doh on my shirt yesterday, and I cannot remember the last time Bee and I played with Play-Doh, and certainly not the blue color. We haven’t had the blue color in tact for quite awhile – months? – because after a long summer, there is no color distinction. It’s mixed and marbled and speckled and dried, kind of like that feeling in your stomach when you’re caught in a lie, or the moment before the champagne pops open. It’s blurry, blobbish, brown. So now, a new parenting development: I need to wash my clothes at the end of every day.

I used to not have to do this. I’d wash my clothes like, every 2-3 wears, and would rely heavily on this organic alcohol laundress spray that probably doesn’t really do the trick but makes me feel as if I’m being proactively clean, in the lazy sense. Proactively Clean In The Lazy Sense should be a poster, or a movement, maybe. Probably a movement.



On (Not) Potty-Training

caution wet floor sign

OK, potty-training. I’m doing it wrong, for sure. Because here’s how potty-training was explained to me:

“It’s totally no big deal. You just hunker down for three days, OK? Do it in the summer so your kid doesn’t need to wear any pants, then set the timer for every ten minutes. Give them a Skittle every time they go successfully. Done! They’ll be potty-trained in no time.”

And then. Here’s how it worked for me:



Summer & Song


So, I don’t watch the Bachelorette, but I’d totally give July a rose, absolutely. The weather has been spectacularly moody, vacillating between angsty teenage thunderstorms and polite 70-degree afternoons and hey, as a minor coffee addict, mood swings are something I can get behind. The rain makes the sun brighter, is that how the saying goes?



4 Babysitting Tips

baby with sidewalk chalk

We’re lucky enough to have a [very energetic and doting] grandmother two doors down and a handful of neighbors who love to entertain Bee when we’re in a pinch, so finding reliable babysitters is rarely an issue for us. But for those of you in larger cities where babysitting fees are outrageous (seriously, $15/hour?) or finding a trustworthy sitter has been trying, here are a few tips gathered from the oh-so-wise mothers who have shared their smart alternatives…

  1. MORE >



Bee and I went to the library yesterday, the big one downtown where I have to parallel park the minivan (my gosh, what an adult-sounding sentence). I picked the spot with the broken meter, but it was OK because then I realized I don’t keep any spare change for the meter anyway. When Ken and I lived in L.A., I kept a coin purse in the glove compartment and it would clink-clink-clink when I hit the speed bump in the grocery store.

It’s funny, the things you remember.



Happy Weekend!


We’re unplugging this holiday weekend for a family reunion filled with potato chips and pool noodles. What’s on your agenda? Wherever you find yourself, enjoy a happy 4th with the ones you love.

See you next week!


Swim Essentials

baby swim essentials

My mother-in-law lives just two doors down (it’s a good thing, in case you’re wondering!) and in the summertime, you can often spot at least one of us in her pool at any given hour. I won’t tell you which of us is the pool noodle hoarder (hint), but I will share a few of Bee’s poolside essentials we rely on all summer long…



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