My Latest Score: Moccasin Slippers
It’s That Time of Year: I buy a new pair of J. Crew moccasin slippers pretty much every year and wear them around the house constantly until they’re matted and gnarly (ew). The coziest.
You’re Sooooo Popular: The Belt Bag.
The most popular items on Le Blog this week:
+A must-have for those of us low on storage space. Make the most of every square inch, people!
+Some of you are ready to PARTAYYYYY with these.
#Turbothot: Whining Whilma.
Reading through my posts over the past month disappointed me. I hope I haven’t lost too much of your respect in all the self-wallowing and angst I expressed in them. I feel as though I reached some sort of zen-like serenity during my pregnancy with mini — little ruffled my feathers, I had a good sense of perspective, and I spent a lot of time reflecting on myself, on who I wanted to be for my daughter, on what I imagined for myself, and for her. I think I was at my best during those anticipatory months. Several of you wrote to say you found my posts “inspirational” — inspirational! Me! Just me, figuring life out! I was floored (in a good way — can that word be used in a good way?) and humbled and felt like I’d reached some new apex in personal development.
This move, by contrast, has brought out the worst in me: I’ve been short-tempered, harried, over-anxious to just get settled in. I’ve been complaining about Murphy’s Law, about being exhausted, about my back hurting, about being off schedule, about all of the hoops we’ve had to jump through. I’ve been saying things like, “Of course they WOULD be doing repair work right outside the window of minimagpie’s nursery every morning at 10 am when she’s going down for her nap — WHY WOULDN’T THEY BE” in a very “oy vey, life is cruel” kind of way. I’ve lived entire days in an alien-to-me survival mode, just trying to get from point A in the morning to point Z in the evening. (“Deep breath: fight the crowds to find these 23 things at The Fairway.” “OK, in the next 10 minutes, while mini is busy with her toys, we need to find Tilly a vet by reading reviews and book her an appointment to get her vaccinations updated.” “OK, gird your loins, time to get on the phone with our real estate agent.”) I’m reminded of some of my thoughts about being in my 30s and not having it all sorted out (scroll down to the turbothot), and I’m ashamed to say I’ve clearly let the sentiment slip right through my fingers: I am sitting here, realizing that I need to recognize that THIS IS IT. These moments of chaos are part of the narrative, not a footnote to it. And if I don’t realize that, I’m going to wake up with an 18-year-old daughter and no idea what happened.
So shame on me.
Shame on me, too, for losing the forest for the trees. We are in a wonderful apartment right on Central Park in New York City. We are healthy. We are close to home and everyone we love. We are an intact, loving family. We are employed. God is good.
It took a trip to my bestie’s (now just a 15 minute journey, door-to-door, thanks to the miracle and madness of the New York Subway) and a scan through my recent posts to realize I’ve been a whining whilma, and ain’t nobody got time for her.
Putting it behind me, turning over a new leaf, and moving on.
#Shopaholic: The Holiday Statement Earrings
+More great footwear from Ann Taylor! These tuxedo-inspired loafers are everything!
+How great is the length and weight of this turtleneck? Great colors/stripes, too!
+The coziest, in the blush color in particular!
+P.S. – Don’t forget to check out Le Shop! I’m always updating!