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


Here’s the problem with 99.9% of diaper bags: They are ugly. They are also a necessary evil that all mom’s succumb to. We don’t like them, but we need them. And now that I’m on my second child, I’ve been collecting good looking diaper bags like it’s my job. Which it isn’t. But that would be a GREAT job to have. My most current purchase was the Jenni Kayne for Pottery Barn Kids diaper bag, which I LOVE. It’s so chic, so functional, and even takes advantage of the bucket bag trend. Diaper bags SHOULD follow trends, because it’s not like you’re going to wear it more than a couple of years any way.

But for those who want a bag they can carry all the way to their daughter’s high school graduation, I recommend the Mansur. It’s not an actual “diaper bag” but if you throw in an insert or pouch, it does the job. The canvas version is really durable and the price point is high for a diaper bag, but low for a forever(ish) bag. And I tell my husband that EVERYTHING I buy will last me forever. (#lol)

Diaper Bags


I’ve always struggled with the kind of mom I want to be, versus the kind of mom I have time to be, versus the kind of mom I end up being. These past two weeks I’ve been home with my kids for the first time in 4 years. And when I say home with my kids, I still mean with the appropriate mix of help and school.. But I’m still the one doing pick-up and drop-off, laundry, meals, packing lunches, brushing teeth and all the 1 million mom duties that I never really had to do before. Because I worked full time.

And now I don’t. I’m home.

So why can’t I just rise to the occasion and Mary Poppins the shit out of this?? In some ways I’m rising to the occasion. I mean, my kids are (relatively) clean and they have (mostly) eaten for the day. But I’m not doing crafts and baby aerobics and having pretend tea parties with the figurine cast from Frozen. And every day it makes me feel like a shitty mom. I don’t know how to “play” with my kids. When Stella asks me to “make the dolls talk” I literally break into a cold sweat and divert her attention to something safe, like a puzzle. I can do puzzles! I can read books, or color, or play board games (but not when they cheat.. I’m sorry, no… play it right or play alone) – but even when we are doing these things, I feel like I’ve surely killed 3 hours when it’s really only been 17 minutes. Which I know for certain because I texted my friend 17 minutes ago and liked 3 pics on Instagram. And I’m right back to being a shitty mom.

A couple of Mother’s Days ago, my mom gave me a card that said “There’s no point in trying to be a perfect mom when there are a million ways to be a great one.” I’ve held that sentiment close over the years, but sometimes I feel like that’s an unrealistic measurable too. In fact, most days I feel like I’m just making it through the day until it’s wine o’clock. On the other hand, my mom also gave me a sign that says “You’re not really drinking alone if your kids are home.” So maybe I should just stop beating myself up and pour a glass. Cheers.