It actually hit the 80s this week! For those of us living in San Francisco, it means it’s time to hit the beach. There are only a few weeks in the year (sometimes none) when we get to pull out shorts, so I relish every opportunity to do so. As I’ve gotten older (or old), I’ve started appreciating longer hem shorts, as your legs don’t burn in the hot leather of the car and it works well with longer tops like this one. [Read more…]
I always look forward to the latest issue of InStyle arriving in the mail, and this month was no different. As a new mom, I thought it was sweet that a circle of little girls graced the cover with the elegant Victoria Beckham. Her collaboration with Target will be launching in a couple of weeks, so I eagerly turned to page 180 in anticipation of learning more.
As I looked through the photo spread and studied the girls’ clothing (mentally listing the ones I wanted to buy for Little V), I suddenly noticed part of a little Asian girl’s face on the bottom right side of page 182. Oh that’s nice they’re being inclusive, I thought, until I looked for her in other photos of the spread. In one photo (page 181) you could see the girl’s right eyebrow and forehead. In another you see her right cheek (page 182). Yet another had part of her back, hair, and legs (page 183). Except for the first shot I noticed, she was practically invisible. If you had photoshopped a blank space over her in all those pictures, it would hardly make a difference. Her presence didn’t matter. [Read more…]
In the end, adversity finds us all.
For the past five years, I’ve struggled through various physical, debilitating pains – first a hip surgery that left me unable to run, then a permanent toe fracture, and now a neuroma/plantar fasciitis/metatarsalgia (depending on which of the five (six?) doctors I’ve seen in the last year you ask).
To suffer through any type of pain is a test of endurance, whether it’s the physical kind or the wrenching heartbreak you experience through a broken relationship or death. Sometimes it’s the repeated hope and disappointment of fertility tests or surgeries that fail and fail again. Sometimes they’re all intertwined. Sometimes we plead with God to take it away. Sometimes we don’t see the point of living any more.
Sometimes we tell ourselves that we’re above the pain, that we’ve moved on and it can’t touch us. I find this works on most days when it happens to be a busy time at work or when Little V is yelling for attention. But when it’s calm, an unsettling feeling starts inside of me.. [Read more…]
There is nothing quite like a great sweater during the holiday season – cozy enough so that you’re warm and comfortable, unique enough so that you have some style, and casual enough so it doesn’t look like you’re trying too hard.
I nabbed a few sweaters during this year’s impressive Black Friday sales, and thought I’d share them with you:
Vince Camuto Cold Shoulder Sweater, XXS Petite
There are obvious people in my life I’m thankful for – Mr. Wonderful, for one. Little V. My sister. The friends who have stuck by me through the good and the bad. And then there’s the elderly man who collects my ticket at the parking garage of my chiropractor’s office.
Being a ticket collector must be one of the most mundane jobs I can think of. Even filing books at a library seems more interesting (which I did for many years as a teen). I’d take a job at McDonald’s over sitting in a booth of a dark garage by myself, staring into space until the next person who wishes to exit the premises comes along. And yet whenever I see this man, he says, “Hi! How are you?” with a huge smile on his face, and then says, “Have a nice day!” as if he really means it. His good spirits are contagious, and no matter what kind of mood I was in that morning, I always leave my weekly chiropractor’s appointment feeling better in more ways than one.
Though I don’t even know the name of this man, his simple actions remind me that regardless of how insignificant your actions may seem, it can make a difference in someone else’s day.
Wishing you and your loved ones a happy thanksgiving!
Who have you been thankful for this year?
Some readers have asked where I’ve been, and when I would start writing again. Little V is already 7 months old–where has the time gone?
It all started with a foot injury in late June. An innocent pair of new, flat sandals did me in this time (two years ago it was a pair of too-tall heels). My podiatrist gave a little laugh at my vanity, but assured me it would be better in two weeks. Fast forward three months later, and the pain from my foot has spread to my heel, ankle, and entire lower left leg. Add on the classic aches and pains of motherhood–back problems and tendonitis–and I was forced to slow down. Way down.
It’s your first Father’s Day, and I’ve been feeling the pressure to write something especially heartwarming. Perhaps some words about love, followed by sweet musings of parenthood, then signed with an XOXO.
And yet as I sit here, wondering what to say, I find myself missing us. I miss the closeness I used to feel, when there was freedom to focus on just you, and how your day went, to hear the latest funny story without being half distracted by whether or not our daughter needs another bottle.
Not too long ago, ModCloth invited me to a special lunch event. I was still feeling sick to my stomach due to my pregnancy (puking in front of fellow fashionistas would NOT be ideal), but their promise of “exciting news” piqued my interest. I love a lot of the retro, feminine designs on their website, but since the smallest size often started at a Small, it meant I usually had to spend more money to get it altered. Over time, I stopped buying things from them.
I know I’ve been gone for awhile. And the longer I’ve been away, the more foreign it feels to write, and yet this morning I felt so lonely that I knew writing would be more therapeutic than talking to anybody about it.
I was never one of those girls who planned on getting married or dreamed of her wedding day. But then I met Mr. Wonderful, and spending the rest of my life with him just made sense. I warned him, though, that I didn’t care about a house and I wasn’t sure I wanted kids. Ever.