We Moved!


Our 2016 Christmas Card

We {barely} survived the Great Move of 2016.

(I should get that put onto a t-shirt.)

In our typical fashion, we were still finishing up our packing when the movers pulled up to the house last Saturday…in a smaller than promised truck. As a result, it took 17 hours and two trips to get all of our belongings from point A to point B. As daylight dwindled, the girls and I de-camped to a hotel, since it became clear that bedroom set-up would have to be left until the next day.

It was probably better that we left Chester on his own to oversee the rest of the move. The glacial pace with which the boxes were being loaded and unloaded made me very anxious. And, to top it off, both girls were battling colds. Fortunately, hotel life seemed to agree with them. I think B was disappointed to find that the new house didn’t offer room service delivery of chocolate ice cream and Alice wasn’t pleased to return to her crib after a night of snuggles in a king-sized bed.

One week later, our house is still covered in boxes, none of our furniture seems right for the space and the only pants that I can seem to find are of the yoga variety. We’ve been discovering that the house comes with some quirks that we didn’t notice when we first looked at it (such as the fact that Alice’s room has zero electrical outlets, while the living room has an outlet every three feet or so). During the past week, I’ve spent most of my free time and money either at Target (well, that’s really no different from life pre-move) or fighting with Lowe’s about appliance deliveries that arrive way behind schedule (or, that don’t come at all).

It’s all disconcerting in some ways, but so good in others.

Everyone has more space. Both the girls seem to be sleeping better now that they aren’t sharing a room, and I’m not missing the noise that comes with living in a row home.

There is a place for our stuff. Closets! Lots of kitchen cabinets! And, a room on the third floor where we can stash all of the toys!

Tracy is getting a workout with walks around the neighborhood. It was lovely to take her out in the quiet, early morning hours yesterday and find that we were the first ones to leave our footprints in the snow.

Our neighbors are nice. Today, Chester came handling a gift bag gingerly, as if it were about to explode. We opened it up to find a freshly baked banana bread and welcome/Christmas card from the couple next door. Phew.

So, for the next couple of weeks, we’ll be adjusting to our new routines and finding places for all of our things, but I am grateful to be able to do it without the pressure of the deadlines that we have been up against for the last two months. I feel like I’ve missed out on a lot of our holiday traditions while everything has been in flux, so with one week to go until Christmas, we’ll try to take breaks from the heavy lifting in order to focus on making memories with our girlies (we finally got our tree up and decorated this weekend, much to B’s delight).


I think we are going to like it here.

This Old House


September 2009

Who are those young, well-rested looking people in that photo up there? Oh, yea. That’s me and Chester, on the day that we got the keys to our first home.

On that September afternoon in 2009, we raced from the broker’s office, unlocked the door to our house, and sat in the middle of our empty living room, laying out all of our grand plans for the house (that mirror taking up the entire living room wall and the ugly industrial carpeting would be the first things to go). We mentally picked out furniture and paint colors. We made a long list of possible home improvement projects. We talked excitedly about having more space to entertain family and friends at the holidays.

For the next three years, we actually did some of those things. And, then, life happened.

The improvement projects that seemed feasible when it was just the two of us brought on migraines we thought about managing them with an infant and a dog. We realized that having one bathroom is fine and dandy, until you have to haul a potty training toddler upstairs multiple times a day, while seven months pregnant, (and later, you have to haul said toddler and one cranky newborn). And, it’s really difficult to have anyone come over to the house when it looks like Toys R’ Us after the Black Friday rush.

All that to say, our life today looks nothing like it did in 2009, and we had come to the realization that our current house couldn’t be our forever home. We had more than outgrown the space and there was the issue of school for the girls to consider. We sketched out a timeline for making a move, closer to the time that B would be ready for real school. But, in the late summer/early fall, we watched a few houses on our block sell in a matter of weeks and worried about missing out on a hot market. So, we got our house ready (putting things in storage and making minor improvements), just to see what would happen. If we didn’t move, we reasoned, at least we would be ready to try again in the spring.

Within three weeks of the “for sale” sign going up, our house was under contract and we had found a new home.

And, it was really that simple.

And, not stressful.

Like, at all.


Real talk: It’s been nuts.

Relocating two kids and a dog for house showings is no picnic.

Compiling the reams of paper needed for a mortgage application is a full-time job.

Trying not to fall in love with the house that is just perfect for your little family, when you don’t know if your current house will sell in time for you to actually purchase it, is tough.

Coordinating the final details of inspections, repairs and settlements on two houses—and waiting for all of the pieces to actually fall into place—is maddening.

And, the packing–oh the hell of packing. Last time we did this, it was just the two of us coming from a one bedroom apartment. It’s amazing (and mystifying) how you can accumulate so much stuff as the years go by (Just a warning to anyone in need of bubble wrap in and around South Philly: there is none left. I bought it all).

We are grateful to family members who pitched in to watch kids and dogs, deliver more boxes and haul trash away. Because, here we are, two months later and we’ve signed all the documents we possibly can sign and packed up the contents of our life so far. Tomorrow, the boxes will be loaded into a truck, we will lock the front door for the last time, and drive off to start a new chapter.

(In the suburbs. Gasp!).

I recently found that list of improvement projects written our first day, on top of the refrigerator. I laughed when I saw how many of the items hadn’t been crossed off. At the time we wrote it, it seemed like those would be the most important things to do, in order to turn the house into our home.

We had no clue what was in store for us.

People keep asking me if I will miss this house. I won’t really–pretty much for all the reasons named above and probably a handful more that I’m not thinking of right now. Plus, I’ve filed away countless memories that I’ll be taking with me, and will always look back on fondly, when I think of this place, where we navigated the early years of marriage and parenthood. Things like:

Sitting on the living room floor with (Big) Bridget and Chester, stuffing and sealing our wedding invitations.

Returning from our honeymoon, excited to sort through our gifts and settle into married life.

Later, returning after all the other trips that we took, simply glad to be in our own home, with all the central air we could handle (we stayed in some questionable hotels).

Cramming 12 people around the table for Christmas dinner, and made a rack of lamb—and all the side dishes—in a kitchen with no counter space.

Fighting over stupid things, stopped speaking for days and eventually forgot why we were angry with each other.

Laying on the couch on Sunday mornings, while pregnant with B, waiting for her to kick me so that I knew she was still okay in there (I don’t know why, but I was always worried about her the most on that day of the week).

Laying B in a bassinet next to our bed on her first night home, and then proceeded to try to sleep with all the lights on, just so I could see if she was still breathing.

Watching in disbelief the next day, as Tracy’s anxiety over the new baby got the better of her, and she jumped through the plexi-glass window in the kitchen door, and straight into the backyard.

Capturing how much B grew each month for the first two year of her life, with a photo shoot in the nursery that we put together just for her.

Sitting in the bathroom on Father’s Day 2015, pregnancy test in hand and freaked out.

Laying Alice in the Rock-In-Play next our bed on her first night home and changing diaper after diaper because she just would not. stop. pooping.

Feeling my happiest at the end of the day, snuggled next to B in her big girl bed, singing “You Are My Sunshine” while hummed along and Alice peered at us over the side of her crib.

I could go on.

But the point is this: in the end it didn’t matter how we decorated it or if we turned the flat roof off of our bedroom into a deck (seriously? When did we think we were going to get around to doing that?). Slowly, we started filling it with memories and people and realized that projects, things and the four walls themselves don’t matter much at all, really.

The first time I scrolled through the photos of our new house online–before we even looked at it in person–I knew that it was the perfect place for us. I’m excited to write the next chapter of our lives there.

And, it’s a good thing I feel that way, because, so help me God, we are NEVER moving again.


December 2016

School Days


Today marks the beginning of a new phase of our lives—The School Days!


Tracy is totally smiling here. She’s proud of B, too!

Ever since I registered B for Pre-K in the spring, I have been both looking forward to and dreading this day. Out of all of the milestones we have celebrated so far, this one is most firmly in the most “growing up” category.  This is the start of a part of B’s life that will be separate from the one she shares with us. It’s the first time that someone other than immediate family will watch over her; and, she’ll be making new friends and doing new things that we won’t get to witness firsthand. And, while I was excited for her to indulge her love of learning and build her social skills, I was anxious about her reaction to the new people, new situations and changes in routine that this day would bring (i.e. B’s least favorite things). When we talked about school in the abstract, B seemed excited, but I don’t think she fully grasped the notion that she would be facing this situation without us standing right next to her.


So, it was with all of these mixed emotions that we picked out a first day of school outfit, packed up her backpack and headed out the door on our first ever, first day of school.


Last night, she said that Arthur was coming to with her, but he was cast aside for Mickey this morning.

And, it all went much better than I anticipated.


B was excited to see that her school was adjacent to one of her favorite playgrounds. She went into the building, pretty much willingly, and stood in the back of the room for awhile, surveying the scene. She made the teachers laugh when she said “No!” in answer to every single question that she was asked. Finally, she made her way over to the classroom’s play kitchen and happily played for awhile on her own.


We watched the other kids settle in, and I was relieved when I saw how expertly the teacher was able to calm down the criers. Eventually, Chester and I were the last two parents in the room, and predictably, B broke down when we headed for the door. Tears welled in my eyes as I heard the door click shut behind us, while B yelled “No! No! No!” just beyond it. Thank God for the privacy of our car and waterproof mascara.

I kept myself distracted with work for the next couple of hours, mentally preparing to return to find B still in meltdown mode, or perhaps asleep in the corner, after crying herself into exhaustion.

But, when we returned a couple of hours later, B was smiling. Her teacher said she calmed down pretty soon after we left. She enjoyed the playground, shared her Goldfish with the teacher, made her first school art project and played with another little girl. When I picked her up, she got a little teary and said “Mommy, you came back!” But overall, she seemed happy.


We are just at the beginning, and I know there is still an adjustment period ahead. But, for now, I am relieved, and just so darn. proud.

In the Kitchen With B



B and I have been developing some common interests for awhile now: Starbucks dates. Stickers. Coloring. Puzzles. But, the thing that I think we both enjoy the most is baking together.

At almost 3 years old (!), B is at the stage where she likes to make a mess, be helpful and eat sweets. Fortunately, baking appeals to all three of these things.

I usually pick something simple like chocolate chip cookies, banana bread or a basic cupcake recipe. Toddler attention spans only hold out for so long, after all, so things that I can do from memory and that don’t involve a lot of steps or ingredients are a must.


When it’s time to get started, we grab our aprons and her stepstool, line up all of our ingredients and get to work. I measure out the butter, sugar and flour for her to dump into the bowl. She whisks up the dry ingredients and I mix everything together in my Kitchen Aid. She is always in charge of sprinkling in cinnamon, dumping in the bag of chocolate chips or lining the cupcake tins with wrappers, depending on the recipe.


I love how she will stick her nose in the mixing bowl and say, “Yum! Smells good!” even if the bowl contains only flour and baking soda at the time. I try to set a good example by not licking the bowl (or eating cookie dough), but she seems to have figured out all on her own that taste testing is one of the best parts of baking.


Of course, there are mishaps. Handfuls of flour end up on the floor. Entire containers of rainbow sprinkles scatter across the counter, while I frantically corral them before B eats them all. Meltdowns ensue when as the 13 minutes that it takes to bake a tray of cookies crawl by.  As with most situations involving a toddler, patience is key.


Finally, the baked goods make their way out of the oven and onto a plate and a few seconds later, B grins at me with a chocolate-smeared mouth and says “I did a great job, mama…” And, she seems so happy that I don’t even realize that she has danced her way out of the kitchen to go watch a show, leaving me with the clean-up.


Life Lately: 35 Weeks

Maternity session

A sneak peek from our recent family photo shoot at Longwood Gardens, with April Ziegler Photography

I am 35 weeks pregnant, which means this baby could be here really soon, or weeks from now. I think you all know by know how much I love surprises. So, this does not bother me. Like, at all.

[insert sarcastic emoji here].

All of the uncertainty associated with the end of pregnancy can produce the wildest thought patterns ever.

For example:

“I would deliver this kid myself, in the bathtub, just so she will stop resting on this bundle of nerves somewhere in my pelvis, that I didn’t even know existed.”

Five minutes later…

“Actually, I hope that this kid doesn’t decide to come on a Sunday night. I don’t want to miss Downtown Abbey.”

Or, when trying to get dressed in the morning:

“Ugh. I cannot wait to burn all of these maternity clothes.”

Two minutes later…

“These maternity leggings are just so. freaking. comfortable. Can I wear them even after the baby comes?”

Or, when I see two little girls, who I assume are sisters, being adorable to each other in Target:

“Awww…having two little girls is going to be amazing. B is going to be the best big sister ever!” [cue happy tears]

Less than a minute later, when said girls start pulling each other’s hair and the older one threatens to push the little one out of the cart…

“Holy shit. What was I thinking? We should have just gotten a goldfish!” [cue panicked sobs]

There is one thing I’m sure of though: I will miss B.

Obviously, she isn’t going anywhere, but there is such a short amount of time left time where she will be my one and only.

During the past two and a half years (and more than that, if you count all of those months of pregnancy), B has been the center of my world. I have gotten to know every little thing about her. All of her firsts are cataloged, in painstaking detail, in my memory. I have felt my heart break a little every morning when I realize that she looks a little more grown up than she did when I put her to bed the night before. When she has been happy, excited, sad, frustrated or sick, I’ve felt all of those things right along with her.

I have felt pretty guilty during this pregnancy, because it seems like the only time I am completely focused on this new baby are those 30 seconds at the doctor’s office each month when I get to hear her heartbeat. When I think about this baby, B always pops into my head first.

“How will B react to a sibling?”

“Will B feel like she is being replaced when we move her out of her crib and put baby number two in it?”

“How will I make time for B when I’m caring for a newborn?”

And, so on.

I am prepared to feel overwhelmed for awhile as we settle into being a family of four (Heck, I still feel like we are trying to settle in to being a family of three, sometimes. So, at least we are accustomed to chaos at this point). But, I can’t say that I relate to the worry that I lot of second-time parents have, which is that they won’t love their new baby as much as their first. I am pretty sure that our hearts are like the Grinch’s—they can just expand when the situation calls for it. I know that the moment my second little girl is placed in my arms, I’ll fall in love.

It’s hard to find the right words to express what I feel about B. The only way I can sum it up is that there will always be something special about her.

She is the one who made us a family. She lets me make all of those first time parent mistakes and doesn’t hold a grudge. She was the first person to make me cry out of frustration, exhaustion, fear and happiness, all at once. She was the one who made me realize that love can be both overwhelmingly simple and incredibly complex. She made the scariest thing I have ever done, the best thing I have ever done.

B might not remember a time when she had me all to herself. But, I always will.


Life Lately: The Second Time Around

Time has gone by so fast, yet so slow during the past 21 weeks. On the one hand, I can’t believe that I’m already halfway through this pregnancy; on the other hand, I can’t believe that I’m only halfway through this pregnancy.

B started doing acrobatics in my belly at all hours of the day and night, right around 14 weeks. So, there was rarely an hour that went by that I didn’t think about her. Baby #2 is much more mellow, and only started giving me a few kicks here and there at about 17 weeks, as if to say “Still here! So, please don’t forget to take your pre-natal vitamins for the third day in a row!”

Couple this with the fact that there isn’t too much to do in terms of preparation this time around—we have all of the gear that a baby could need, we won’t be decorating a nursery from scratch and we don’t make long lists of questions for every routine doctor’s appointment—and I already feel like I need to sign this baby up for therapy to deal with the side effects of second child syndrome.

(Side note to baby: Please keep this calm disposition when you become an outside baby. Goodness knows that this house cannot handle two spirited children.)

As you no doubt recall, I complained quite a bit about various discomforts and inconveniences quite a bit the first time around (see here, here and here). And, I can report that my attitude towards the overall experience hasn’t changed. At all. I think anyone that says that they enjoy being pregnant is either lying or has somehow been fortunate enough to get early access to the good drugs that you get when you are in labor.

I will agree with those lunatics that the end result is completely worth it, but no flowery talk about how miraculous it is to create a life makes me feel better about the fact that I can’t breathe, have to go to the bathroom every 15 minutes and, to quote Emma Thompson’s character in Love Actually, “the only clothes that I can get into were once owned by Pavarotti.”

On the plus side? I discovered the beauty of maternity leggings and no one has tried to touch my belly this time around. And, fortunately, the best time of year is upon us, and I’m sure that a full calendar of festive fall activities, work events, a mini-babymoon and preparations for the holidays will make the next 19 or so weeks fly by.


From our recent Linvilla Orchards adventure

And, of course, there have there have been some sweet moments that the second time around brings, which have given me all the feels.

For example, mornings with B, where we sit on the couch reading stories before I have to get ready for work, have long been a favorite part of my day. Lately, I get a bit wistful that the days of it just being the two of us are dwindling. But, then, B will rest her head on my belly, and give it a pat as if to say hello to her sibling and make sure that it’s listening. And, most of the time, the baby kicks back in response. It’s like they already feel connected to each other. I know there will be days when they want to claw each others’ eyes out, but I hope that they will be grateful to have that they will always have “a person” to go through life with.


Pretty soon, daddy will have two hands to hold

So, I guess you might be wondering whether Baby #2 is a he or a she? Well, so was I, up until just a few days ago!

With B, from the moment I found out I was pregnant, I knew she was a girl. With this one, I had no strong feelings either way. Most people who saw me guessed that I was carrying a boy (because of the way my face had changed, or the way my bump looked, or some other old wives tale), so eventually I also became convinced that this was the case.

Turns out, all the old wives were wrong! It’s a GIRL!

It would have been fun to have one of each, but, I’m not going to lie–I LOVE having a little girl and I’m pretty excited to keep buying all of the pink–for as long as they let me dress them, I guess!

Giving Thanks.


Moments like this are why I’m the luckiest girl in the world.

I try to be thankful, every day, for all of the good things that I have in my life. But, when there is so much to do and so little time to do it and the evening news only reports the bad things that happen, it’s easier to become frustrated and pessimistic.

Fortunately, Thanksgiving (and the prospect of spending time with the people that I love most amidst copious amounts of food), has arrived to snap me out of it.

In the spirit of today’s holiday, here is a short list of things that I am grateful for:

My husband. He tolerates all my quirks and moods and makes me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world even when I haven’t washed my hair in three days.

My sweet baby girl. She’s the first thing I think of when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about at night. She is making me a better person every single day and just seeing her smile makes my life.

My mom, who is always there. My aunt, who will also do just about anything for us, including acting as our own personal post office so our packages don’t get stolen from our front step. My brother, who is the number one fan of this blog (even though he would never admit it) and who finally joined Facebook this year so that I can enjoy his sense of humor on a daily basis.

The world’s best dog. Tracy, our poor first daughter is often overlooked in favor of her baby sister and I feel incredibly guilty and undeserving of the love (and daily protection from the mailman) that she continues to give us.

Friends. Even though we don’t get to see each other as often as we would like, I know that I can pick up the phone and we’ll pick up right where we left off. A special shout-out goes to my BFF of 20 (!) years, Bridget. Sure, I could have come up with Chicago Hope: The Board Game myself, but it would not have been nearly as fun (plus, I’m pretty sure she came up with the idea for the popsicle stick character/game pieces, which will really the be major selling point for the game when we finally bring it to Milton Bradley).

My job. I have always loved my field, but after a couple of years of feeling kind of lost on my career path, I am finally in a position that is a really good fit for me. And, without work I never would have connected with colleagues who have turned into good friends.

Technology. Specifically, smartphones. Right now, I’m stuck with an ancient Blackberry while I wait for a new phone. I have been without instant access to my e-mail, calendar, and Instagram for a few weeks and it’s driving me bananas (#firstworldproblems). Also, Google. It knows everything. I rely on it at least a hundred times a day for the answers to the most obscure questions and the correct spelling of words that I mess up so badly that even Spell Check doesn’t recognize them (such as convenient and necessary. And, yes, I just Googled those).

Philly. While I was walking though Center City the other day I was reminded of how much I love living here, with access to awesome museums, restaurants and shopping.

Coffee. Without it, I would be even crankier than I usually am and would probably be asleep at my desk by 9 a.m. Relatedly: under eye concealer.

Cake. Because there is nothing better with coffee.

Yoga pants and their universally flattering nature. Although I would be even more grateful if it were acceptable to wear them to work.

Good books. Crap television (i.e. Teen Mom, reality shows on TLC, etc.).

A hot shower, pajamas and a comfy bed. There’s nothing better at the end of the day.

Every single day of the week, that I get to wake up and take on new challenges. Be a mother. Do creative things. Except when those days are Tuesdays. I will never be thankful for Tuesdays.

Yep. I guess I’m pretty darn lucky. I hope you can say the same. Now, go get your food coma on.


The Little Moments

Kurt Vonnegut said “Enjoy the little things in life because one day you’ll look back and realize they were the big things.” As I scroll through the photos we have taken recently, I am reminded of what a valuable piece of advice this can be.

After a somewhat stressful first birthday weekend, we wanted to have a low-key day for just the three of us to be together. We decided to head over to Franklin Square Park for a ride on the carousel.

I placed B atop one of the shiny horses and she grabbed right on. As I held on to her, I could just sense her anticipation as we waited for the ride to start.Birthday_Week-46

When the music started and the carrousel begin to turn, I thought she would be scared. But, when I looked at her, the first thing that I saw on her face was wonder. And, after that, that pure contentment. There is something magical about seeing the world through a little one’s eyes. It doesn’t really take all that much to make them happy. And, in that moment, without cake, balloons or any real fanfare, B looked like the happiest darn baby on the planet. And, that made me the happiest mom on the planet.


Yes. Sometimes the smallest moments really are the best moments.

Hello, 2014.

New Year

I know it’s already more than a week into the new year, but I just got myself organized enough to draw up my list of goals for 2014. I spent a lot of time thinking about them this year, since I wanted to come up with things that were realistic, in light of the limited time I feel like I have lately.

My number one priority is to be a good mom to Little B and to work with Chester on making a nice life for our little family of four (yes, I count the dog. She was our first baby, after all). For the most part, the rest of my goals are pretty much aligned with that theme, with a couple of selfish things thrown in.

I realize that I can’t always be my number one priority anymore, and I’m totally fine with that. But, I need to do a few things to keep myself healthy and sane if I’m going to be able to take care of the more important things in my life. And, hopefully writing them down here will be a way to hold myself accountable.

So, this year, I plan to:

Stop losing my shit when things are less than perfect.

A few weeks after Little B was born, I mentioned that one of my greatest challenges in becoming a parent was reconciling my need for control and perfection with the chaos that a baby brings.

Four months later, I’m still coming to terms with the fact that my house will always be slightly (or more than slightly) messy for the foreseeable future. I still beat myself up when when Little B is crying or has food and/or drool all over her face and shirt, because I assume this must mean that I’m a terrible mother. I still expect that I’ll be able to check everything off my to-do list, every single day, in spite of the fact that I have a lot more on said list now than I have ever had in my life.

Hopefully, by the end of the end of the year, I’ll have an easier time just letting things go.

Be Present.

This goal is somewhat related to the first one, in that my tendency towards perfectionism sometimes keep me from just living in the moment.

I know that Little B isn’t going to be a baby forever and I want to make sure that I’m not so busy worrying about what happened in the past, what is going to happen in the future and how I can get a million things done all at once that I miss out on all of the amazing things that are happening right now.

I hope to be able to do this, not just by taming all the noise in my own head, but by minimizing the distraction that comes along with technology. Even if I decide to sit on the couch and do nothing after Little B goes to bed, chances are I’ve got my phone in my hand to check Facebook or Google stuff that I just have to know the answer to right at that moment. I need to get used to just being, and not always doing.

Take care of myself.

I have been so focused on taking care of Little B that I haven’t quite worked out how to do what I need to do take care of myself, too. I need to figure out how to get back into a gym routine, get enough sleep and eat more sensibly so that I can be on top of my game for her. I need to keep reminding myself that coffee is not a meal replacement, that it will be okay if I take a little bit of time away from Little B to go to the gym and that there is nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow if I decide that I want to go to bed at 8 p.m. because I am just really, really tired.

Come up with a five-year plan for my career.

I was lucky enough to fall into a field that I love, almost immediately after graduating from college ten years ago (Yikes). Along the way, I was also lucky enough that the right opportunities always seemed to materialize at the right time. I’ve never really had to have a plan, because as I went down the path I never doubted that I was exactly where I needed to be at the time.

This year, I really want to make a conscious effort to plan for the next phase of my career. Like all of the other changes in my life, part of this renewed focus on my work has to do with Little B. If I’m going to spend a huge chunk of the day away from her, I want to spend that time doing something that is meaningful, satisfying and allows for a balance between work and the rest of my life.

This doesn’t mean that I want to stop doing the kind of work that I’m doing–I love what I do. But, I want to figure out how to leverage the skills and experiences that I’ve gained over the last decade so that I can keep progressing. Are there other areas of my field that I would like to explore? Do I want to go back to school, in order to open up a whole new set of opportunities? I don’t know. Either way, I think it’s time to really think about what I want to do when I grow up.

Invest time in this blog.

I’ve said it before, but maintaining this little corner of the Internet is one of my favorite things to do. I have a list of things to write about collecting dust on my computer, so I would like to try to turn those ideas into actual posts. In addition, I hope to work on my photography skills and hopefully even learn a bit about design so that I can make a few improvements around here.

Read more.

I used to read a book a week before Little B came along. Now, even if I have time, I’m usually to exhausted to concentrate on anything and opt for mindless activities, like checking to make sure that the Internet is still there and watching crap TV. I miss escaping with a book and want to try to at least get through one book a month this year.

So, that’s what I have on my plate for the year. How about you? Any advice for meeting my goals?

Life, Lately

I have plenty of ideas for things to write about, but finding the time and energy to actually put real posts together is a bit challenging at the moment.

I have, however, been taking a lot of photos. So, here is a glimpse of what I have been up to lately, according to my Instagram feed (spoiler alert: there’s a lot of Little B ahead):

It’s finally starting to feel like fall (and, on some days, winter) in Philly. It’s the perfect time of year to people watch in Rittenhouse Square park with a cup of coffee (hooray for the return of the Starbucks red cup!).

red cup

Since Little B can’t fight with me yet, I take advantage of every opportunity I can to dress her in silly clothes. Apparently, the makers of baby clothes also recognize that this is one of the highlights of parenthood, too, because about a large percentage of outfits have animal ears.

 Polar bear

Lately, Little B wants me to hold her all. the. time. Lucky for her, though, cuddling a baby is pretty much everything I’ve ever wanted in life. Plus, I am happy to get in all of the snuggles that I can, since my maternity leave ends in just under two weeks (major sadness).


I celebrated my birthday this past weekend. 31. Yikes. Little B got dressed up for the occasion.

birthday baby

And, Chester spoiled me as always, with presents and flowers.

 birthday flowers

My mom babysat so that Chester and I could go out on our first date since Little B’s arrival. It felt just like the good old days, except we were home and settled on the couch catching up on shows by 5 p.m. Our first stop was brunch at Garces Trading Company. The restaurant offers a three-course brunch menu for $28, which includes dessert (Brunch should always include dessert, if you ask me. The pumpkin spice macaron was particularly amazing.


After stuffing ourselves silly, we went to see Once at the Academy of Music. Although the show’s Philadelphia run has concluded, if you have a chance to see the show elsewhere, I highly recommend it. The movie translated very well to the stage and, of course, the music is wonderful.


So, what have you been up to?