I hope everyone's Memorial day weekend was completely and utterly blissful. Ours was pretty great indeed, thanks for asking. Hey do you know what I think I love most about Memorial day weekend, is how every year we talk about finally doing the proper New York thing and getting the heck outta dodge, but then every year we end up staying put and being reminded again just how fantastic it is to have the entire city deserted and all to ourselves. It's kind of creepy actually, how empty the city is on big holidays. It feels a little like walking around on a movie set. (Yes this is going to be a two-part post, and yes it does feel like overkill.)

We totally winged it this weekend but ended up having so much fun, it was like the perfect storm of all the good things. Brunch with friends, a Mets game, a slow stroll across the Brooklyn Bridge in what could have been the most on point afternoon breeze of my life, and a stint at the south end of the Brooklyn Bridge Park for a tour of what just might be the world's most insane playgrounds.

SPEAKING OF BROOKLYN. Every time we go to Brooklyn we have the same should-we-move-to-Brooklyn-? conversation. It's almost word for word exactly the same, every single time. We always arrive at the same conclusion at the end, that we could so move to Brooklyn, but eeeeeehhhhhhhh just not right now. And always for different reasons. This time it was because we needed some lunch and nobody was open and we became those gross people muttering things like "this would so not fly in Manhattan" under our breath. We did finally find a Vietnamese place on Smith street that was not only open, but so good it more than made up for the extra mile of walking. 

A few photos from our day in Spot Conlon's territory. 
(I say, that what YOU say...... is what I say.)

So long as Brooklyn keeps churning out shops like these, I'm all in. Nobody needs a hatchet in Brooklyn. This doesn't even make sense. I want one of everything in there.

Yeah but for this brownstone I would sacrifice reliably-open restaurants for the rest of my life. A couple heart-eyed emojis right here.

Huck wore his sunglasses all through dinner, because that is just the type of turkey he is.

This has been yet another post about Brooklyn. Holbrooks, over and out. 


ON ME: dress / sandals 

ON HUCK: tank / shorts / sandals / glasses from the Target dollar bin last year / hat from the dude outside the stadium at the Mets game who was selling them for cheaper than the guys inside ;)



This is a post about being true to ourselves. It is also a post about church. You know, read it at your own risk. 

One of my clearest memories from when I was a kid was one hot day in Arizona when school had just let out for the summer. I was experiencing my first taste of freedom, my first week off, and here comes Sunday and to my complete surprise, we were going to church.

"Wait--we don't get summer vacation from church!?" I said incredulously in the car on the way there. 

"Of course not!" is what I think my mother said back. 

Anyway, it bummed me out. 

This one, too: I was eight, or maybe nine. I was sitting in Sunday school and I was asked to read a scripture out loud. The scripture said something or other about nakedness, I don't remember the exact scripture. As I got to the part where I was supposed to say "naked" out loud, I lost it. I started giggling. I couldn't stop it, it felt like a volcano bubbling straight up from my toes, and as hard as I tried I could not gain composure. I steadied my legs against the chair, I pressed my mouth shut, I tried to start again. It wasn't happening. As the muscles in my cheeks fought for control the teacher looked at me sternly and told me to leave the classroom immediately. So, I did. I wandered the halls for the last thirty minutes wondering what on earth I had done wrong, and suddenly understanding in a way I hadn't before that in this church there was a Right and a Wrong, and that, sadly, understanding the intricacies of which was which was not something that came horribly intuitively to me. 

These are very glib examples but this is what i'm driving at, friends: I am a square peg. And I am a member of a very round church. 

There's been speculation on Instagram about my undies. Guys. What a weird world we live in. On the one hand, I get it, I totally get it. On the other hand, it's obviously completely and totally inappropriate, not to mention disrespectful, but then, also, yes. I really, totally get it. Anyway, people have been accusing me of not wearing my temple garments for years, even when I was at my most devout--which was so confusing!--so I've long since stopped feeling like I had any control over what people thought of me and I chose to let it go. But I got a comment on my last post that made me think, you know, okay. Let's do this. 

So, first of all, let me put the matter of my underwear to rest: It is none of yo damn business.

But! Here is this:

This year has been huge for me. I've said that, like, too many times you're all sick of reading it. But I feel like i've been through it, you know? And the reason I finally came out the other end was that i decided to allow myself the space to acknowledge that things as they stood were making me unhappy. That I felt one way, even though all of my life I'd been told to feel something else. I decided to come to terms with me, with who I believe God made me to be. I've struggled with this for so long, it's like the on-going theme of my existence, this fight between who I am versus who I am "supposed to be." Between what my values and priorities are versus what my values and priorities are supposed to be. Between what I believe is Right even when I am told that it is Wrong. I have been shoving myself into this round hole. I have been shaving off whole corners of myself to fit, corners that always seemed to grow back. I have wedged myself in so hard at times that I didn't even recognize myself. What it left me with was a total disconnect from God. It left me feeling bereft, alone, insecure, and worthless. And frustrated. Oh my gosh, so frustrated.

I have this picture in my head of what my life with God was like before I came to earth. I picture a warehouse. The warehouse floor is made of clouds--obviously, this is heaven after all--and scattered all around are hundreds of cardboard boxes. I'm walking with God, we're side by side. Strolling, really. Slowly meandering through an enormous maze of boxes, peeking inside this one, stopping for a glance at that. This one here is the box full of courage. "Help yourself," God says. Here we come to the awkward-shaped nose box, for whatever reason, I am totally down for that. What was I thinking? It probably made sense at the time. In my imagination we skip straight past both the thrill-seeking and athletic boxes, and linger for a while near the boxes containing optimism and romanticism and stubbornness. God watched me take just about everything there was in the outspoken box. He was okay with it. For whatever reason, I chose these parts. I chose this me. The great parts and the not so great parts. But here's the thing: God made it all. He made all those boxes, and He made everything inside them. He made me. This me. And I believe He is proud of his creation. Hell, I'm proud of his creation. I am proud to be a square peg. HIS square peg. There comes a point where you have to honor your own relationship with God above anybody else's. I've reached that point, where I'm ready to trust what God is telling me, even if it doesn't always line up with what God is telling someone else. 

Do I believe God works like that?

Of course I do. How else would you explain my cankles when you consider how many slender calves exist in this world? Clearly because it is all good. It must be. There's no way it couldn't be.

There are many things I love about the Mormon faith. For one thing, it's the faith of my family, and I will go to my grave respecting my family and the way I was raised. I love the emphasis on the eternities. I take to the whole "God has a body" idea pretty well, that totally jibes with me. I have always loved the way the faith integrates the God of the old testament with the God of the new. And I love the way you are embraced by a ward family wherever you go. I love the way our children are taught to love their Savior in primary. There are a lot of other things that, to me, don't make a lot of sense. And some things that I straight up do not agree with. But I don't see why it has to be all or nothing. I don't need to force my square peg into this round hole anymore. Instead, I'm changing my approach. 

I love taking my son to church. And I love the opportunity to worship every week. But I am making my own path through it. A path that i think is really fine. A path that I've approached prayerfully and that I feel God supports. A path that has led me to feel more connected to myself, more connected to my God, more happy and free than I've felt maybe in my whole life. I'm going to focus on what God tells me is right or wrong, and I'm going to let go of a few things that I've been told are Right and Wrong that i honestly, prayerfully, just don't believe. 

In the October session of General Conference last year, Dieter F. Uchtdorf said a few things that cemented in my heart this idea that all these parts from all these boxes, that they're all good. They're meant to be honored and explored. That this is my life, this is my faith, and this is my God. And it's okay for it to be personal. It's okay for me to take that round hole and add in a few corners so that I can fit comfortably. It's okay, it's allowed.

"If you seek truth, meaning, and a way to transform faith into action; if you are looking for a place of belonging: come, join with us. If you have left the faith you once embraced: come back again. join with us. If you are tempted to give up: stay yet a little longer. There is room for you here.

To be perfectly frank, there have been times when members or leaders in the church have simply made mistakes. There may have been things said or done that were not in harmony with our values, principles, or doctrine.

In this church that honors personal agency so strongly, that was restored by a young man who asked questions and sought answers, we respect those who honestly search for truth... We honor their right to worship almighty God according to the dictates of their own conscience, just as we claim that privilege ourselves.

Come, join with us. Come heed the call of the gentle Christ. Take up your cross and follow Him. For here you will find what is precious beyond price."

October 2013 General Conference
(Link to the whole talk HERE.)
(Gotta love that Silver Fox.)

My Dieter told me there was room for me. He told me to stick it out. 
So as long as that proves true, I'll be taking him up on that. 

Aaand that's that.

**Update: Thank you all for your wonderful, heartfelt responses, it's been such an honor to read them! I just wanted to clarify quickly that this has never been about church culture for me. I made my peace with that a loooong time ago, believe me. I even got to a place where I can genuinely enjoy how funky it can get at times. This is purely a spiritual, doctrinal attitude that I approached very slowly, thoughtfully, and prayerfully. I also hope I didn't give anyone the impression that I don't respect the Mormon church or any of its members or leaders. Thanks again, everyone.

***Second Update: In light of recent events, I'm even more grateful for my personal relationship with God, a relationship that, for me, operates outside the administrative decisions of the church I sometimes attend. I don't agree with what is going on, I'm frankly disgusted by it. Brandon and I are taking it under very serious consideration as we continue to put what we believe is best for ourselves, and our family, first. 



how on earth is it thursday already and where did this week go!? well hey, here's a bunch of miscellaneous nothings so we're all caught up on things. yeah? should we throw in all the crappy photos my phone has taken? why not! nothing but the very best in photo quality for this blog! highest standards in the business i tell ya.

well first of all, are the tutus. huck's sweet friend biet had herself a birthday last weekend, and we were so honored to get invited to come help her celebrate. it was a brilliant ballerina theme + all the kids got tutus. huck was a good sport about it. oh who am i kidding, he was beyond into it. it was like the fluffiest, super-est super hero cape of his life. there was a lot of zooming and swooshing going on... sound effects... fists of triumph + fury... he was already wearing a denim vest i found in the girl's section at gap kids, so, you know. go whole hog, man.

sooooo, i gave myself some new piercings, again. i don't know what my problem is. well, i do know what my problem is, my problem is i'm impatient. and stupid. i finally got my tattoo situation figured out. it's all set! i'm totally ready! now i just have to decide when. and do i get a babysitter? obviously i get a babysitter. and who gets to be my special plus one? who will come with me + document my stupidity for all of time + posterity? this is a big honor, isn't it? it can't be just anyone, it's a little like choosing a maid of honor, i figure anyway. i mean, i guess it could be my husband... i'll need to pray on this. when you're feeling antsy you probably organize your closet. potato-potahto. someone's going to ask so i'll tell you now: i use a solid gold earring that i've washed with soap + water, and then i just shove it on in. brute force. stupid. once it's through i put on the earring back and then i keep it really, really clean. i know. i've done it six times now (all but holes one and two, plus hole five twice over), and no infections yet! don't take this as a you-should-too, though, because you shouldn't. i actually had to stop with the second post halfway through to go help huck start up a show on netflix. so, go to a professional. i mean, i don't regret it, but what kind of bad example would i be if i said as much? my friend caroline shared a tip with me--dr bronner's baby soap. really great on fresh piercings. (also it's easy on the eczema) thumbs up, bronner! they're healing quite nicely, thanks for asking! guys, i'm such an idiot.

but i like 'em.

moving on!

huck and his penguins. ohh, huck and his penguins. it's gonna be a real good summer for huck + his penguins in the penguin room at the zoo. you stop noticing the smell pretty quickly, is the good news. huck would stay in there for hours if you let him.

brandon continues to be ruggedly good-looking and terribly hard-working and henry's favorite person in the world. he was out of town for some management training all last week, and every time huck + i would come home from wherever we'd been he'd ask, "will daddy be home nowwww?" these two boys + their nightly gummi worms + their spirited renditions of that ridiculous hunting scene in the croods ("eep! avenge me!"). they're pretty great buds. it's an honor to be the one doing all the nagging when they're wrestling on the floor + knocking things over.

what else, what else.... oh! madison square eats! madison square eats is going on right now, it runs all may, every year. it's one of my favorite things to do in the city. i took these photos the last time we were there. they're mildly crummy. 


let's wrap this up.

we'll end on this note. 'tis the season for 100% humidity and this year i'm ready for it. i got the kind of hair right now that looks unkempt on its best of days, so when the mist comes out, together we reach such epic levels of mop head, it's complete anarchy on my head. all i can do is embrace it. so i'm embracing it. last week i kissed my flat iron lovingly and wrapped her in her cord for a nice, long summer nap. ain't nothing she can do about this mess. see you in the fall, nerd! 

see how exciting things have been? also i bought apples today!  

that's the holbrook update, over and out.



thought i'd show off a little of the work i've done in the bedroom today. i've included a few sources where i can as the post goes along. shall we?

i love a white bed! this swiss dot duvet from west elm is probably the most asked about thing i've ever owned. it breaks up the all white just enough to provide a little textural interest. sadly it's sold out, i wish we had gotten it in a king! (some nights when i can't sleep i scour ebay for one, just in case.) our beautiful hanging tasseltry is from hackwith design house.

one thing that's pretty consistent across all nyc apartments is the lack of overhead lighting. it's a trick to get a room the right level of brightness. viesso sent us this bamboo lamp, which is meant to be a suspension pendant, but in the absence of ceilings high enough we've been enjoying it on the floor. because why not?

i was so excited the day my moroccan wedding blanket arrived at my door. i've wanted one for what feels like a lifetime! it was a gift from accompany, so i can rest assured knowing it was produced ethically using fair trade materials. unlike maybe that pillow, which is from the targets. though i guess you never know. ;) (it seems sold out, but this guy appears similar-ish.)

here's the bed in a previous iteration. i love our pia wallen blanket from story north, but brandon likes to steal it for his couch-sitting comfort so most of the time it's AWOL. one day i decided i really hated our bedside table, so i found it a new home and never looked back. a basket by the bed is just enough for whatever i need to corral at night. but then i thought, well this just encourages clutter, so now we have nothing and i've still never looked back. but then again the kitchen is only fifteen steps from my side of the bed. i suppose it's possible that in a bigger house you'd want some room for a glass of water or whatever. i get it, i get it.

rug from ebay and sheepskin from amazon. you know what, is ebay is the best place to find a good turkish kilim. (i learned that tip from the best, thanks jenny!) p.s. you know what else, is these avarcas, which look like they would never stay on your feet, somehow stay on your feet anyway and are also really comfortable. the things you learn!

okay so i found this dream catcher at the dollar store on amsterdam and a hundred somethingth street, of all the places to find a dream catcher. hats from an arizona flea market and forever 21, respectively.

this is my dresser, an ikea classic, and on top of it i've get every piece of jewelry i own. a dish of earrings, a bowl of rings, my bracelets are displayed in a pretty glass box. i keep a few of my rotating favorites in a glass pyramid from minimalistos. i found that gorgeous block of wood at west elm a year or so ago, i have no idea what you're actually supposed to use it for.

now we're going to talk about perfume. the greatest scent on the planet earth is le labo santal 33. mine was a splurge of a christmas gift from brandon this year. le labo hand mixes your bottle while you wait and you get to personalize the label and it's just about the epitome of ridiculousness and i love it. not to mention it is literally the greatest scent on planet earth. musky and warm and just a little bit spicy. i am not being paid to say this. i also love the vetyverio from diptyque. most days i'm wearing either of the two, but i do throw in a little flowerbombe or philosykos from time to time. i keep a few of my favorite essential oils in glass test tubes, just for playing around with + layering with other scents. sandalwood, patchouli, amber, and vanilla are my favorites. take it easy on the patch though. a little goes a long way.

some time you should remind me to tell you the story about how i wanted one bertoia-esque diamond chair, ended up with four diamond chairs, and then was only able to return two diamond chairs. it's a funny one. number 2 lives here for now. i haven't decided what to do with him yet. he's not quite right for the space, but i don't hate him either. our dry cleaning goes in the basket. so does huck sometimes, hashtag that's why it's falling apart. i think i found it at homegoods. the beautiful luggage is from accompany, i keep it out because i like to look at it. :) (i also keep my small collection of totes + bags inside it.) our lace drapes are from ikea! they're one of my favorite parts of the room. i have really fond memories of a very fat huck on my chest in the ergo, wandering around that showroom all day with an aching back while arguing with brandon over virtually everything. that sounds sarcastic but it really isn't, it's a sweet memory, haha.

our gorgeous weaving from maryanne moodie is living in the bedroom semi-permanently these days. i'm taking her weaving class in brooklyn next month, i can't wait! (i believe it's sold out, so check with her before booking.) this is brandon's dresser, from ikea. easily the prettiest dresser there but a beast to put together. the baskets are homegoods and amazon (the one on the floor). (the one on the floor i actually use for holding other moroccan baskets that i use to carry around the city as a purse. i don't know. maybe that's excessive.)

i'm hoping to show off the bathroom next! providing i get around to ironing my shower curtain. you'd think any wrinkles would have steamed themselves out by now, honestly. kinda makes me wonder about things...



*photo unrelated entirely to anything, as though you expected anything less.

file this one under: "life mysteries, solved!" 

so. some evenings, unpredictably, when huck and i are coming home from who knows wherever we've been that day, we'll happen to walk home through this whole huge horde of dudes. i am talking dude-dudes. all twenty-something, all wearing scuffed work boots and baggy trousers, a lot of hoodies. occasionally there's a token female there but not usually. a lot of the time they've formed a long line at the hot dog guy up at the corner. when this happens, this phenomenon, it renders any trip to duane reade completely impossible. all these guys swarming all up in the joint, buying up all the chips, it's crazy. once, when we were walking home, we watched as an entire city bus stopped at the corner, opened its doors, and then! unleash the dudes! guys started pouring out of the thing, dude after dude, sooo many dudes, like a dude clown car, like a dude factory shaped like a bus. sometimes we see them and they're all milling about all over the place, not really doing anything, these funny random patches of dudes, and we weave around them on our scooter and sometimes we get stuck behind one or two (they walk so slow, and with such a wide stance... being a guy must feel really weird), and other times we get there and they've all formed a line, one long, snaking line of really rather large guys, guys who look like sports fans, all down the side of one building. sometimes when we pass they're actually going into this building, one at a time, through one little blue door. bloop!bloop!bloop! is the sound i like to imagine they make when they go in.

what on earth are they doing here? is it some kind of convention? it's all mysterious, all the time we talk about it. we can never predict when we're going to see them, which lends this weird, magical quality to the whole thing. sometimes they'd be gone for whole months at a time, and i'd forget all about them. and then! there they were again! are they working the night shift? are they sweat shop workers? are they taking tap dance lessons?

sometimes i liked to imagine we were witnessing some cosmic, earthly event. you know, testosterone being the crucial element here. maybe it had something to do with the migratory patterns of dudes in the wild. maybe it was beer-related. or construction-related? (see: scuffed boots. all of them! scuffed boots!) was it like a guy bermuda triangle? like these guys were being drawn here, ooh like that scene in hocus pocus! all in a trance, they don't know why, they only know, THEY MUST GET TO THAT BUILDING. AND STAND IN A LINE TO GET IN. OOH BUT FIRST I WANT A HOT DOG. i mean, you can see how this was getting out of hand for us. 

anyway. we were needing popcorn. special popcorn, this is how this all went down. we'd ran out of popcorn--i'm talking breakfast lunch and dinner some days, this popcorn--and i'd been to all the duane reades in the area to find more (not surprisingly there are at least 7 duane reades in this one 10 block radius), but none had any any in stock! it was super frustrating. kind of like when we go into the starbucks to get a two-pack of black and white cookies to share and there aren't any left, because we've already bought them all. 

so we're pulling into our last duane reade of the day before i come to my senses and realize it's just popcorn and i'll get on with life, and it's one of those nights where the dude population is soaring mysteriously, when suddenly, there they are! the popcorns! it was a very serendipitous moment for me. i get on the line to buy my six bags of popcorn (i don't know, is that overkill?), and there are about five dudes in front of me and five dudes behind me, and i finally think to myself: ok. this has gone on long enough. matters, own hands, blammo. so i asked one of the guys what the hell they were doing here and why the hell there are so many of them. nicely, though! i'm pretty nice. and the guy goes, "oh, it's trade school! electrician stuff. every night, 5pm." and then i thought about it and, yep, it was at about 5:00 every night that we'd see these guys, and somehow i hadn't noticed that bit before. and then he looked at all the popcorn bags in my hands, but look, they never have the popcorn i like so when i saw it and it was on sale two-for-one, my brain sort of blitzed and i stopped making rational decisions. 

so then he said something about how the term was almost up and there aren't any classes over the summer, and he ended with this: "yeah, somebody should blog about it." this struck me as sort of an odd thing to say. doesn't it? but then i thought, hey! turns out that's something i can do! 

so... i did.

anyway, mystery of the universe: solved.



mother's day mother's day mother's day.

this is what i think: when it comes to making cookies, you have two options. you can either decide what you want, and then try like hell to make it happen using whatever ingredients you got in your cupboards, square peg/round hole style; or, you can walk into your kitchen knowing what's there, and make the best damn thing out of what you got. if you're all out of chocolate, you aren't going to make a very good chocolate chip cookie. but you can make one hell of an amazing snickerdoodle.

motherhood, womanhood, life, is like that, i think. we're all these kitchen cupboards stocked with who knows what, all kinds of things. every ingredient is valuable. some of us can whip up the best chocolate chip cookies without even blinking. some of us are out of chocolate chips, so we wait around a while, until the grocery store opens, or until a neighbor lends us some, and then our chocolate chip cookies are ready. they're just as sweet, they just take a little longer to bake up (and you're extra hungry by the time they're done). some of us look in the cupboards and make spaghetti. 

myself, i chose to wait for the chocolate chips. not because chocolate chip cookies are the best cookie on the planet, and not because a crappy chocolate chip cookie is any better than a really great peanut butter cookie (you know what, a crappy chocolate chip cookie satisfies no one), but because, while my cupboards are full of a lot of other great ingredients for a lot of other great food, i'm just not as interested in it. i tried making snickerdoodles, they came out flat. i'm not very adept at spaghetti sauce. peanut butter cookies are fine, but they don't hit the spot for me. but i can make one hell of a damn fine chocolate chip cookie, once i have all my pieces in place. and i'm willing to wait till the store opens. and what does that mean in the long run? probably nothing, really.

i am so fulfilled by motherhood. every day with huck is a dream come true. we have the most fun. being a mom has been my most favorite thing. not because that's how i was told to feel. not because being a mom is better than being an attorney or an artist or a really great crossword puzzle solver or whatever. and not because i'm biologically wired that way. i'm not biologically wired that way. i have to twist my own arms to make babies, many chemicals are involved. but i am so fulfilled by motherhood and feel so honored and lucky to get to do it. i suspect it's for the same reason i like marshmallows and have stocky ankles: because i came out that way, for whatever reason. 

i still don't really like mother's day. i don't like the sanctimonious tone it can sometimes take, i don't like to propagate the idea that every woman should feel most fulfilled by the same thing, like we can all be threaded through such a narrow definition, and i don't like smug self sacrifice, in any arena. but i do love my baby. i love my days with him. i love my faulty hormones, and i love the cockeyed optimism of my ovaries. my ovaries keep on chugging, even when my uterus is like, dude. i love my college education and i love my feminist rants i go on that make people roll their eyes and i love how well read i am and i love when i can remember every song lyric ever written after listening to it once. i love my stupid mouth that often gets me into trouble. there should be a holiday for snickerdoodles. and spaghetti lovers. i mean, mother's day is beautiful. i am grateful for the reminder once a year to celebrate my own mother, who is the fiercest woman on the planet earth. she is the epitome of hard work, and love, and positive attitude, and the classiest broad i've ever had the pleasure of knowing. my mother is a force. but actually being a mom is such a small sliver of "motherhood," and "motherhood" is an even smaller sliver of what it means to be a woman. 

on this mother's day i want to celebrate the women who are waiting for the store to open. i want to celebrate the women who saw the chocolate chips, but knew that what they really wanted was banana bread, and baked that instead. i want to celebrate the women who are really good at eating other women's chocolate chip cookies, even if they never baked a batch of their own. is this analogy getting too ridiculous? 

there is more to being a mother than chocolate chips. 
and there is more to being a woman than chocolate chip cookies.

now that you're all done rolling your eyes at me, here is how we celebrated fallopian tube output day.

we finally made it to the spotted pig! brandon left work early friday afternoon to try our luck with us for a freaking hamburger. only 20 minute wait this time! (the last time we stopped by there was a two-and-a-half hour wait, is this not nuts.)

somehow it's become a tradition for us to celebrate mother's day in small bursts all weekend long. so rather than getting the dishes done for me while i laze around for 24 hours, i dictate all our activities all weekend long like a tyrant. which i'm really good at. i did the dishes AND the laundry yesterday. but brandon did take out the garbage. 

on saturday i dragged my boys into brooklyn for the flea market. on our way there the skies opened and we got our first good summer thunder storm. one of my favorite things about life on the east coast are these intense displays of lightning and thunder we get during the summers. i'll take the swampy air if it means a big show of rumbling every now and then. we got completely drenched, it was magical. 

i like to make my husband come to the brooklyn flea market with me. i also like it when i bump into friends randomly! latonya + belle are two of the most talented women in my personal arsenal of talented women that i'm i lucky enough to call my friends. 

my finds from the day:

from the same vendor who sold us our nautical flag, which was kind of sweet for me. plus two donuts from dough. bam!

then i took my boys downtown to try a new bagel shop i've had my eye on. 

holding onto my boy's collection of rocks while he pets a puppy, while i try to decide what he's most likely to eat and whether i should take a risk on the ricotta, apple, and honey bagel from black seed bagelsthis is mom life. i like it. 

egg salad on sesame seed. thumbs up, black seed. 

and here is "bad guy man" waiting on a slice of pizza (not in the mood for bagels, turns out). over the weekend huck declared himself the sidekick to my evil villain. i don't know, but that seems pretty right on to me. 

so, happy mother's day and junk. 
hey did you know that only 2% of couples are actually, incurably "infertile?"
doesn't that bode well for all of us?
hang in there, mamas. 
the store will open. and your cookies will be amazing.

a whole bunch of older mother's day thoughts from this blog nonsense:
here, here, here, and here. poor you. ;)



hey, happy friday! 

so, the holbrooks are trying their hands this year at being bike people. i even have the road rash on my ankle to prove it! we had a really fantastic afternoon on the west side highway last weekend, where we rode as far south as we could stand, stopping for a few tacos and playgrounds along the way, before riding ourselves back home for some orphan black. we have one bike between the three of us right now. we're not terribly official yet. luckily, all three of us can fit in it at once! (thank you again, madsen!) i've been looking around at options for our second bike, you know, i don't need to play beauty queen on parade in a bucket seat ALL the time... something city friendly, step through, with a few gears, terribly adorable of course, like this one or this one. any recommendations for us? luckily we have plenty of bike storage in our basement. :) 

oh brother, i'm just really grateful for our life in this city. should i be obnoxious for just a moment? i think i will. i'm grateful for this place, this time, this experience. i know i'm lucky to have it. i'm so jazzed at this family of three i get to be a part of. i had a moment last week, you know, when i was waiting for my period to come or for a pregnancy test to read positive, whichever wanted to come first, where i thought to myself, you know? i'm okay either way. i really have nothing to lose here. either way, i'm good. i have a good thing going. truthfully, i'd been looking forward to having a solid month or two off where i just enjoyed being me. just me. not a hopeful vessel of babies, not a body of drugs or schedules or tests, no deadlines or out-of-the-ordinary responsibilities looming over my head, nothing to make me more tired or more grumpy or more whatever than usual. just me. me the way i want to be me, if i'm in charge of being me. (which... i am. do you sometimes forget that, too?) it's been such a roller coaster, the last few years, and i'd always planned for the month of may to be just for play. just chilling. and going absolutely nowhere and doing pretty much nothing. and then my period went AWOL and i started doing the usual "have i been too stressed out lately or am i pregnant?" song + dance (you know the one) and i actually thought, you know what? i'm not ready yet. have i ever thought that before? nooooo. of course then my period came and it isn't humanly possible to want a baby and not hate your period to death every time it comes, BUT. i've been loving the heck out of the peaceful undercurrent i felt all the while. this knowledge that this working out how it's supposed to. whatever the hell that means. and i am in charge of my experience. i'm calling the shots. 

anyway, enjoy our way over-exposed shots of the day! (hey check your camera settings next time in case of toddler interference!)

tiny baby goslings along the hudson. they were so fluffy + sweet looking i could have breastfed them on the spot. come on, you know what i mean. 

oh and p.s. 

the tacos at the chelsea market right now are out of this worrrrld.