NEW YEAR, NEW ME. ACTUALLY THE OLD ME IS FINE THANKS.

It’s 2016 so naturally I need to make some resolutions. The first couple are easy:

  1. Drink at LEAST as many glasses of water per day as glasses of wine.
  2. Cook more. Okay fine, cook at all.

But the main thing I’d like to accomplish this year is to cut myself some slack. Sometimes I let my family, my over-achiever friends, that skinny mom at school drop off who ALREADY went to pilates, get the best of me. And honestly, I’m sick of feeling like I have to defend the way I am. I’m not a fun mom, I’m not a mom who does crafts, I’m not a mom who bakes, and I’m really really not sorry. I’m a busy mom, and a working mom, and well-dressed mom (my kids will thank me later for that one), and I think that’s perfectly fine.

You know what else? John does all of the above better than I do. He will even play dolls. WHAT IS WORSE THAN PLAYING DOLLS. Nothing. But he will do it and I won’t. Mommy enjoys more task driven games… like cleaning. And organizing bookshelves. But I’M fine with that. And if my kids aren’t, well there’s nothing a Disney movie can’t fix, amirite?

So for 2016, I’m vowing to not give a shit. I’m okay being me. Cheers, y’all.

10401983_10152929533064820_1389615046622938380_n

5 THINGS I DISCOVERED: HOSPITAL EDITION

Since we spent last week in the hospital with Stella, I thought I’d devote a mini-post to some new things I discovered while staying at Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital.

  1. There is no wine in the entire hospital which seems like a real missed opportunity.
  2. Hospital parking IS FREE. Do you know how much I used to pay at Cedars Sinai? Like $42 an hour.
  3. The guest bed situation in the hospital room is an absolute travesty. Like a legit prison cot from Orange is the New Black. I had to go buy all new linens and a mattress topper just to survive the second night. John opted for judgey martyrdom instead of soft blankets, but that’s cool, I had the last comfortable laugh. Sad prison cot pictured below. 
  4. Apparently glitter nail polish can’t be worn during an MRI because it’s metallic. Stella was pretty calm and collected the entire time we were there, but once we tried taking off her nail polish, SHIT HIT THE FAN.
  5. In our discharge papers, we had to promise not to let Stella drive tractors. Not exaggerating even a little.

Thank you all for your concern and good wishes the past couple of weeks. Stella is so brave… Her parents are not. On the way to the ER, she spent the ambulence ride discussing her rings with the paramedics. I spent the ride gripping my seat and trying to not throw up. 

Stella lasted three days hooked up to an EEG with a million wires on her head and body. She looked a little like a human iPhone being charged, but we decided her head wrap was very Grey Gardens. We’re headed back to Vanderbilt in a couple of months to do some further testing in the Epilepsy Monitoring Unit. Another (less funny) thing i’ve recently learned is that it’s very difficult to diagnose a seizure unless the event is captured under proper surveillance. So we will be checking in for a full week in hopes we get some answers. The good news is that she’s totally fine in the meantime, and received 32 Elsa dolls and a unicorn for her good behavior.

Thanks for the support. We love all y’all. That’s southern for “many people.”

xo, C

LA FOR A FEW DAYS.

What’s it like to go back home when you’re still a Nashville newlywed? As it turns out, not as painful as I thought. It helps that it was 100 degrees (not exaggerating by a single digit), that rush hour is a constant – there’s just a 45 minute window around 11:30 that traffic lightens up slightly, and that parking spaces seem to have become even smaller. So that all helped. But even with the normal difficulties, there’s no place like home. I’m sorry, but the air just smells like gardenias and jasmine to me.. EVEN IF IT’S COATED IN SMOG. Also, I’m able to buy Zonin Prosecco at Trader Joes for $6.99 on a SUNDAY so there’s that.

WANT TO BE FRIENDS?

Chances are, if you lived in a city for most of your life – you don’t need to make friends. You know everyone. Or at least the people you feel like you need to know. Well, isn’t that great. Congratulations. Now try moving to a NEW city at 33 years old, 1700 miles away from everyone you know, where you have to figure out how to not be a total loser.

When we moved to Nashville, I had so many people tell me that making friends would be EASY since everyone in the south is so nice. Well… they were half right: People here are great, but making friends is hard work. For starters, I have to be shamelessly shameless. Like, if you walk by me wearing Isabel Marant, I’m just going to assume we’ll like each other and probably give you my number. That’s slightly over-stating… but if you’re wearing Isabel Marant in an Instagram pic, I will TOTALLY GIVE YOU MY EMAIL. My criteria for hitting on new friends is basically the following:

  1. Are you a woman or gay man?
  2. Do you live anywhere remotely near Nashville?
  3. Are you available? Let’s hang.

I’ve honestly had to make a bigger effort in the last 3 months, than I’ve made in the last 30 years. If I’m tired (always), un-showered (sorry, don’t make morning plans with me), or don’t feel like a drink (haha jk) – I still have to get off my butt and make an effort. The good news however, is that my hard work is paying off. I’ve met so many cool people, who for some reason, have taken pity on my pathetic state. And lately, the only time I feel like a giant loser is when I mentally count the amount of new friends I’ve made while I’m driving in the car. (I hope my new cool friends don’t read this… nothing to see here, guys).

This is all new territory for me.. literally and figuratively. But you know how the saying goes: If you can make it in New York, you can make it in Nashville. Is that not how the saying goes? Well for the sake of conversation, let’s just agree on the logic. I TOTALLY GOT THIS!

ALOHA.

Okay look, before you start coming after me with pitch forks forged from beach umbrellas, I am in Hawaii with my TWO CHILDREN. There are no vacations with children. Only trips with varying degrees of scenery. Granted, the scenery here is pretty spectacular… And we are here for my mother-in-law’s 60th birthday, so we do have our family to help… But traveling with kids means still having to get-up at 7am, be in the room by 7pm, and balancing a piña colada in one hand, with a sippy cup and baby wipes in the other. So I just wanted to preface these pictures with a small sprinkle of reality to prevent you from completely hating me. Or actually, go ahead, Hawaii is the best.

For starters, there are rainbows. In this case, double rainbows. Stella informed us she had never seen a rainbow in real life, which I realized is because she grew up in California WITH NO RAIN.

Stella was also pretty excited that you get jewelry made of flowers. I mean, even Queen Elsa doesn’t have flower jewelry.

Sutton was just excited to play with an empty left over water cup because he’s a second child and is content with such things.

Meanwhile, I was happy drinking cocktails from large pineapples.

The kids love the ocean as much as John, but my pale skin requires me to make 5 minute breaks in the water and 55 minute breaks under the umbrella.

(Tankinis forever, amirite? Nothing like the beach to realize you have a mom bod.)

After we all got our fair share of sunburn, we decided to take a day trip to the Dole Plantation. Which basically consisted of a ride on the Pineapple Express and giant cups of magical ice cream called Dole Whip. Which I didn’t get a picture of because I was too busy eating it.

We’ve been actively trying to get a group shot these last couple of days, and so far, it is just not happening. Stella and I managed a semi-decent mother / daughter shot, and we were able to get one pic with my mother-in-law. But considering we are a party of 11, we are operating at 50% capacity at best.

So today is our last day.. we are trying to soak up the sun (in 5 minute increments) and enjoy the views. John and I even took Sutton on a hike.*

(*a 30 second walk up the grassy bluff)

 

It’s always hard saying goodbye to vacation, but it’s also a nice feeling to miss your home. More specifically, my house. And my bed. And my shower. And my wine fridge. Heading back to real life, and a VERY REAL DIET, tomorrow (right after the plane ride of snacks).

LA DAYS.

We spent the weekend back home in LA. I was worried coming back for the first time.. I’ve been so homesick and had just started to (kind of) find my footing in Nashville – so was I going to get on beloved land and lose it? Feel like I could never go back to Tennessee? Thankfully, I think I’m good, and don’t need to abandon my new life. But the other good news is that I don’t need to abandon my old life either. It was ALL there: Our friends, our family, our favorite Mexican restaurant, sushi, my old Target (don’t think I didn’t pay a visit).. It was a nice reminder that moving doesn’t mean LEAVING. You come back and it’s just as good. As much as things change, they still stay the same – and thank goodness for that.

It was a weekend of so many hugs.

And yesterday we spent the entire day swimming at my parent’s house, hanging out with my brother and some of our friends. It was basically the most perfect day ever.

For old times sake, Dashiell even brought his skateboard and rode around the tennis court like we were back in the 9th grade.

And to add to my perfect day: I was able to buy WINE on a SUNDAY, and at TRADER JOES. It was thrilling, really. I wanted to buy a whole case, but as my husband pointed out, the money I’d pay in shipping is probably more than just buying wine in Nashville. He’s just trying to rain on my cheap champagne parade.