Everett Takes Manhattan.

Everett Takes Manhattan.

There it is. My tiny, bubble window frames that triumphant, iconic skyline. It never fails to give me a thrill in my gut, a rush to the head. This vast metropolis is comprised of anonymous multitudes who dream to be known, discovered and found. So much hope and promise pulsing through the subways, rising up the dizzying elevators, and reaching higher than Freedom Tower. I've admired this place from afar, lived in it up close, and today, for the first time in quite a while, am just a visitor. This time, though, everything is different. My arms are carrying the 15 most important pounds of my life and he has no idea what he is in for.

He stares up at me, almost reading my anticipation, feeling the sense of the plane landing. Can he tell what I'm thinking yet? I have no idea if a 3, almost 4-month old can intuit that profoundly. But if any of them could, it would be him. Ha. Thought every parent ever.

I brought my baby to Manhattan. And here is how it went.

We Came.

Last week we took our first family trip to New York City. I'll admit it. My excitement and anxiety for this trip were equally yoked in the days leading up to our departure. I mean, take a baby on a plane? With recirculated air? During FLU SEASON?! Ew. Ah. Oh.

We Conquered.

(Not Without Casualties.)

I'll just go ahead and get to the punchline: the trip was sublime. My child did as well as a spirited 4-month-old can. Was he a perfect traveler? Oh no. HE'S A BABY. There were two screaming restaurant incidents that I'd like to pretend never happened. But for the most part, he behaved wonderfully and went with the flow so, so well. It was almost odd, because, as I've shared before, he's not the lowest-maintenance baby. But his plane rides were so good, they were almost uneventful. And our time navigating the city together was actually super sweet and special. It was a delight sharing it with him, watching his eyes widen in awe at the enormity and grandeur and shimmer and grit.

// The foliage was perfect. Gosh I love New York. //

// Top Left: Everett putting on his fight face as we trolled the town, Top Right: Family Selfie waiting while waiting for the elevator, Bottom Left: Us with the iconic Love statue (right next to our hotel!), Bottom Right: Post-screaming lunch with the baby, where an Uber cab ride and a trendy coffee comforted my soul. //

// Central Park was as perfect as I remember //

// I got free balloons! It was really fun to walk around with... until it wasn't anymore. I might have tied them off somewhere in the city... //

// His puffer coat was like a magical cloak of sleeping properties. He yelled every time I put it on him... and then he did that ^. //

// Narnia. //

// Breastfeeding in the park (lets normalize it, people), some cute guy snapping photos, and me with my Everett bus loaded down with practically everything we own. //

How We Played.

What did we do while we were there? Mostly, we just enjoyed the park and visited some dear friends. Ate some rad sandwiches from the deli around the corner (several times :)) Took Everett to FAO Schwartz to pick out a Christmas toy (we ended up with a book.) Had some random girls give us balloons while we meandered through the park (I know - what??) Had a few too many treats from Magnolia Bakery (thanks, Jess!) Did a bit of Christmas shopping on 5th Ave., although this time I found myself wandering through the baby sections and chatting it up with the other moms in the store. It was kind of a surreal weird moment (like, am I old enough to even have a baby??) Watched the Veterans Day parade. Drank coffee and dreamed of what it would have been like if we were still living in our little 1-bedroom on the Upper West Side. As much as I love this crazy mess of a town, I am so glad we aren't living there now.

Sound too harsh? I'll give you an example. Each time I came back to the hotel after spending a few hours outside, I had to wipe a layer of grime off of Everett's face. He literally had a gritty pacifier mark from just, I don't know, the outside air? It grossed me out. When I walked with him in the stroller, I desperately wanted to shield him from the everything-ness of walking down 6th Avenue, where our hotel was located. Just so many people shoving by, jaywalking, cursing, smoking, yelling, cabs honking, exhaust fumes and wayward bikers every which way. It was just a lot. A whole lot. Everett took it in stride, but he definitely had his moments where he was DONE.

Moments That Surprised Me.

I definitely found myself holding my breath as we rode in elevators, anticipating him screaming in an airless, lightless space, squished awkwardly between strangers, but that moment never came. He was calm. I kept him out a little bit late one evening to meet my friend Deb for dinner, and he let her hold him for a loooooong time, so happy and content. I mean, it was like 9pm! And he was just chilling, completely content to be surrounded by the ardent aroma of pasta and pizza. That's my little Italian. And walking around the park with him was honestly dreamy. The leaves were raining down on us with every cool shimmy of the breeze, and in one bend of the path there was a saxophonist crooning, "Autumn Leaves", while we were surrounded by the mesmerizing autumn leaves, and ... well, it was truly a moment I will never forget. Like one of those moments that isn't significant for any obvious reason, but stands out so strongly, you almost lose your breath when you remember it. It was just a tiny slice of our time, merely a fraction of the day's experiences, but I will never forget that bend in the path, with that jazz saxophone, and looking down at Everett's eyes, knowing he was taking it all in.

We stayed in Midtown, which was perhaps a nutty choice (since its the busiest area of town), but I'm grateful that we had such a central location and could go back to the hotel throughout the day when we needed a break. My child, who typically doesn't nap well, took two two-hour naps each day - that's how stimulated he was! (Unfortunately, he was just preparing to turn the tables on me, since we have been sleep challenged ever since we returned home from our trip. No one told me that coming home from a trip is actually the hardest part of traveling!)

Thankfully, we had a lot of friends who came to the hotel to see us - thank you all so much for making those visits so easy! It was so much fun sharing him with all the wonderful souls who were so invested in him all last year, long before he was even born. These are the beautiful friends who celebrated his gender reveal, showered me and Stevie with so much love and affection, and kindly lied to me when I kept asking if I was really as gigantic as I felt. Everett was a lot more relaxed and able to interact with everyone in the hotel room than in a crowded restaurant.

Even though he was slammed with work almost the entire time, Stevie and I had bits of time to enjoy some of the New York splendor, too. We scoured the lower east corner of the park, an area we hadn't discovered much together. We ate really really excellent takeout when Everett was too fussy to go out, but even the takeout in New York is spectacular. We got to see what it feels like to be parents, traveling with a baby, which... let me tell you what, it is DIFFERENT than being all fun and fancy free on your own. Remember these times? It's safe to say those days are over. At least for a while. But it's more than okay, we are embracing this season with with big thankfulness.

// Everett and all his friends :) //

When We Were DONE.

By the last day, Everett had taken Manhattan - and decided he'd had enough. He pretty much lost his mind in a restaurant in the Flatiron area (sorry, Jenna & Tara, for all the stares for all the wrong reasons), so I was happy to take my screaming, wriggling, huffing and puffing child into a cab and call it a day. Overall, I feel proud that we managed to make our way in the city without too many meltdowns.

I'll share more details about traveling with an infant next week. So many of you shared your tips and tricks with me, many of which worked beautifully. With the holidays coming up (and Thanksgiving right around the corner!), I know tons of you will be traveling with your kiddos, and I am excited to share about what worked and what didn't.

Thank You!

Also, many thanks to all of you who offered up such helpful advice about the 4-month sleep regression/transition that we experienced coming back from this trip. We are still in the throws of it, but thankfully the waking up every hour of the night has stopped. Living on a prayer, baby. And coffee. Lots and lots of it.

Picking Muscadines & Scuppernongs.

Picking Muscadines & Scuppernongs.

Whew! Happy weekend to you! Our weekend got off to a bit of a shaky start. My little Everett decided to turn his behavioral clock back to when he was a brand-newborn and wake up all through the night again. This has gone on for four nights in a row. Just when I thought we were on to something! Any new mom tips on getting your child to sleep through the night are much appreciated. ALSO. I wanted to thank all of you who gave such encouraging feedback on last weeks post about Mompetition. I'm astounded at how many people have felt that icky mom-judgement. But all your kind words, camaraderie and commitment to stop judging and start loving on other mamas really touched me. Let's keep it up! Every time we have a "judgy" thought about another mama, let's squash it and take the time to encourage her instead. It's the best thing we can do for each other!

Finally Fall!

I wanted to share a suuuuuper fun Autumn activity! A few weeks ago Stevie and I packed up Everett (in his fancy new Baby Gap outfit from his surrogate Auntie Natalie) and ventured out to pick muscadines in our hometown. I can't believe I never did this growing up! It was so invigorating to finally feel a chill in the air and actually experience the weather of the season. This fall has been so different in our household... instead of apple picking and devouring cider donuts (like we did when we lived in Boston), we've been up to our ears in swaddles, lullabies and trying to get our baby to take a bottle. It's just a whole new experience this fall. So while the hayrides and corn maizes will have to wait 'til next year, I couldn't bear going the whole season without heading out to a farm and picking something. Since all the good apple farms are at least two hours away (and that drive seems a bit daunting with our spirited newborn), the next best thing was picking muscadines. Literally right around the corner from our house.

I had a vague idea of what a muscadine was (a super thick-skinned spicy grape), but scuppernongs escaped me. What a funny word to say. Try to say it out loud. SCUPPERNONG. See? It's just so silly. Anyway, I was uber disappointed to learn that scuppernongs are just a lighter-colored muscadine. There is practically no difference. The disappointment lasted for about 6 seconds, because then I tasted one. They are so delicious. PEOPLE. Why do apples get all the good press in the fall? MUSCADINES ARE THE NEW APPLE. Now go pick you some.

// Ready to dive //

// Fruits of our labor //

// My little bear slept the whole time! //

// Those bubbles. Those paws. //

// Gotcha, mom!! //

// We stumbled across this beauty in the parking lot. My favorite part might be the photo bomber, though :) //

Happy Fall Weekend to You!

I hope you have the happiest, most fulfilling, adventurous AND restful weekend. Is it possible? Hmm I like to think so. Enjoy your Saturday!

A New Season at Serenbe Farms.

A New Season at Serenbe Farms.

This is a story about a couple who tried desperately to have a normal, fun day OUTSIDE THE HOUSE.

Stevie & I decided to do something extra special this past weekend and take the trek out to

Serenbe Farms

, one of our favorite getaways on the southside of Atlanta. Serenbe is a posh country community, made up of mostly second and third homes to tired urban dwellers. This is the place where they escape for a bit of fresh air amidst the slow southern charm. Serenbe consists of a zillion acres of woods, lakes and ponds, along with an organic farm and all the appropriate barn yard animals to match. There are hiking trails, dotted here and there with luxurious (but tasteful "country-style") homes, and a dainty little downtown. It's a very darling, and sort of daunting, kind of place. Only because it's so spookily Stepford-perfect. Every so often my entire family visits Serenbe, mostly to dine at the incredible

Farmhouse

restaurant (which we tend to do over the holidays), and also to watch my dad horse whisper. So it's delicious and entertaining.

We decided it was the perfect weekend to take Everett to this favored place. The weather was ripening into the perfect almost-autumn day, and we had nothing to do and nowhere to be. Ah perfection. We drove 30 minutes out to the farm, windows down, the cool breeze wafting gently through the car, and Everett sleeping, quite literally, like a baby. We got to the restaurant, hoping to be seated on the old patio, so we could enjoy the weather and have the outdoors as a baby-crying buffer, if need be. Unfortunately there were a few events going on outdoors So the hostess walked us to our table, inside. Gulp. As we followed her, people stared at our portable baby car seat, which we were doing our best to tote gracefully (ha, yeah right), along with the diaper bag, baby carrier and other infant paraphernalia. I mean, we were prepared for a day at the farm with a baby, you know? We packed all the tricks we had. I hoped we wouldn't be a nuisance to the other diners.

Thankfully, my dear boy Everett kept snoozing, so we excitedly ordered drinks and appetizers. I decided something: going to lunch is the perfect new date idea for me and Stevie, since going out to dinner is sort of not doable these days. But this! A perfectly beautiful, organically grown lunch on this divinely romantic farm? This is totally doable. We're doing it! We're having a lunch date and I even have makeup on. I mean, talk about starting to feel like a lady again.

You know where this story is going, right?

Suddenly, my baby whipped his head up and screeched with the might of an overly-crowded Sunday school nursery gang. He was UP. Again, the onlookers LOOKED. Oh geez. I could feel my face filling with hot redness. In one fell swoop, my hero of a husband scooped up my darling boy and exited the restaurant, attempting to soothe him along the way. Hm. What shall we do? What should I do? Well. I started eating Stevie's appetizer, obviously. Those fried green tomatoes are seriously prize winners. But then I decided to be the mom that apparently I am, so I grabbed my diaper bag and left the restaurant the same way I came, making sure to tell the hostess that my husband would be back to gather the rest of our items and pay the bill.

Why did I think we could do this yet? Our son is barely 8 weeks old.

Well, the experience was only slightly embarrassing. I got to the car, where Stevie was pacing with my howling progeny, and we realized that he had pooped on his adorable Polo onesie (serves me right for dressing him so pretentiously adorable). So we changed him and I climbed into the front seat to nurse him. Funny. I had never just sat in the parking lot of the Farmhouse. But it was still lovely. It really was. Birds flying overhead and butterflies prancing. My precious child finally calmed down and my precious husband brought me a boxed meal to-go. We laughed and decided to try round 2 at Serenbe.

Everett slept blissfully for the rest of the afternoon while we ate our boxed lunch outside on a bench. You know what? That fried chicken tasted just as delicious as it would have indoors. We walked around, enjoying the gorgeous greenery, marveling at the craftsmanship of the homes, and shopping just a bit. It was a perfect re-do. I keep using the word perfect, but that's because it truly felt that way. Just a simply sweet day with my two favorite boys.

// The loveliest homes in downtown Serenbe. //

// I bought a fox onesie here! To die for. //

// The Blue Eyed Daisy has the BEST chocolate chip cookies. They taste like cake. //

// I'm not gonna lie. It was a bit of an uphill battle. //

// A BUTTERFLY LANDED ON MY BABY. //

// He makes me so happy :) //

// My heart could possibly burst. //

// It's an Atlanta thing. If you haven't had King of Pops, you haven't quite lived. //

// Well, since you said it... //

Life with a newborn folks. You just kind of make your favorite old things work in a new context. And you also pack a lot of extra outfits.

A Lazy Hour in the Boston Public Garden.

Baaaaahstan.

The past few weeks have been a blur. I've been coupling moving prep and baby prep with an attempt to experience each moment fully engaged. These last experiences of living in New York, these last weeks as a non-mother, these last moments of selfish quiet. It's been sweet. But also a bit alarming. I've felt calm, but there is an undercurrent of expectation about the upcoming transitions.

As a wonderful break from all of these internal musings and introspective processing about LIFE, Stevie & I took a quick road trip up to Boston. It was his birthday weekend (yeeeeee!!) and also his 1-year class reunion, and we hate to miss a good party. Although I stood far too long chit-chatting (my feet/legs/back yelled at me for days after), it was SO GOOD to connect with our dear-hearted Boston buddies. We capped off the weekend with a stroll through one of my favorite Boston landmarks, the Public Garden.

As we wandered through the truly mesmerizing array of tulips, weeping willows and the lazy waters, I was immediately struck with a moment of memory. I remember walking through this exact part of the garden, this exact bend in the path, 3 years earlier. We had just moved to Boston, didn't know a SOUL in this town, and sauntered through the garden in dumbfounded wonder. It was just such a beautiful, new place. I remember saying to Stevie, "Let's really enjoy this day. Because next week, you're going to start classes, and we will meet people, and start to have things to do and life will be different forever. But here and now, we don't know anyone and we don't have any responsibility. Let's enjoy it!" And we did.

Ah, youth. I hadn't even graduated college at that point. My oh my.

And here I am, only 3 years later, walking through the same garden, the fresh aromatic flowers bursting with bloom, and I am pregnant with our first child. Um, whoa. So much has changed in just 3 years. SO MUCH. And now, instead of Boston being a sort of scary, unknown place of potential dreams, it is in our rear view mirror as a marvelous hub of memories. It is safe. I can't believe how quickly this life has happened.

// The originals from

Make Way for Ducklings.

(Trish, should I cry now or later??) //

// ACTUAL ducklings. //

// Isn't it just so loungy and lovely? //

// We found swans. //

// They were pregnant too! //

// Growing growing growing. //

// This is Stevie's fave: If you look closely, you will see a tiny little bird drinking right next to the squirrel. Priceless shot, Mister Hale. //

One Hour.

I am incredibly grateful for the small moment I got to spend in this sanctuary of bliss. We don't know when we will be back in Boston again, but I have a feeling that the next time, I will be wrestling my son to not jump into the swan water :) And I will probably have another one of those "We've been here before..."-moments. My, oh my.

Happy day to you, friends.

Charleston Ladies Weekend.

Chaaahlston, dahlin'.

In case you're wondering, that's the legit way to pronounce "Charleston". C'mon, say it with me, "CHAAAH-lston." You got it. Now all you need is a mint julep in hand and perhaps a pimento cheese sandwich out on the steamy back porch. Let's sink into this sweetly-southern town a bit, shall we?

I just had a ladies weekend in Charleston with some of my best friends from Boston, Charity and Carrie. Now that none of us live there anymore, we decided to meet up for a warm-weather retreat (my moaning about the bitter New York snow might have had something to do with it) where my darling Carrie and her husband Troy were residing. I say "were", because they literally moved two days after I boarded my plane back to New York. Relocated to the savvy, posh hub of London. So, while this Charleston memory is lingering so presently in my mind, their apartment is already empty and all their warm belongings (along with their baby AND cat) are already off in another country, awaiting another thrilling adventure. And while I think they were totally CRAZY to host a girls weekend in their home in the midst of all their packing, craigs-listing and overall MOVING, I am even more thankful for their crazy, over-the top generosity and love. Wow, what an absolute blast I had with these heartfelt friends. And Charleston! It's a truly delightful town to visit, especially for a southerner like me.

Map.

Charleston is the kind of place where time seems to have stood still. It's a tiny bit of Edith Wharton's Newport and a rich helping of Scarlett O'Hara's Atlanta. The downtown streets are stately, lined with ostentatious antebellum-era homes and whispering moss and the kinds of tangled flowers that only flourish in this heatstroke kind of humidity. The streets are naturally cobbled, uneven and uncaring. The air is thickened with ocean salt and the scent of sweltering boiled peanuts. Family monograms are ubiquitous, likened to a monarch's coat of arms, and borne across apparel, mailboxes, cars, you name it. Even etched into the frilly, fold-down socks worn by the scrambling children that keep bumping into me on the sidewalk. They're almost sickeningly polite. I can't help but feel a tiny little bit of judgment toward these blatant, grandiose displays of southern pride. But a secret part of me is also allured by this peculiar community, who grasp so tightly to their roots, I can almost feel the pressure in my sun-blinded eyes. Time to take cover under a mighty magnolia.

//  Rainbow row //

// Waterfront pier. Swings. Gelato. Need I say more? //

// This gal is such a good mama. I was inspired by her all weekend long. //

// Love this shot. Our tourism is visible! //

Mmm.

Everything I ate in this town was delish. Troy and Carrie cooked for me and didn't let me help clean up once, so it was TRULY a vacation unlike any other. Coincidentally, this is also the weekend where my 5-month pregnant belly popped... hmm. I might be seeing the connection here. Because I ate WELL. Although we did a lot of meals at their home in our pjs, a few noteable places to mention (if you find yourself hungry in Charleston):

Mamacita

We took a winding drive out to Sullivan's Island where there are rows and rows of beachside cafes. After lots of tempting cravings and indecision, we finally feasted upon fish tacos at Mamacita. A worthwhile place to munch if you're willing to trek out there. The beach was gorgeous, too.

5 Loaves

The BEST lunch I've had in a month? In Charleston, at 5 Loaves. It's a farm fresh, organic cafe and and not super-duper southern (although the lemonade was pretty to-die-for.) Though not in Charleston proper, this cafe has several location and is worth the 30-minute wait (no reservations!) We ate in Mt. Pleasant. And it was truly, oh so pleasant.

Belgian Gelato.

I had a flashback to my over-indulgence in Italy at this delicious gelataria, adorably named Belgian Gelato. Grab your cone and head towards the Pineapple Fountain (yes, that's a real thing) along the water. It's the perfect place to devour your three-scoops of pistachio, stracciatella and hazelnut goodness. K I gotta go pick up some less-worthy ice cream now. Cravings!!

Moment.

Sitting with these beautiful girls (and our fast-melting gelato) by the murky, east-coast waters just did me in. I had such a reality moment, and was filled to the brim with thankfulness. So grateful that we each found each others' friendship while navigating the social anthropological experiment of our time at HBS. For us, it was a foreign experience, part hallowed hallways of prestige, part wilderness in the bizarre unknown. These girls, we were all "partners" according the program's description, but we were partners-in-crime (or rather, partners-in-trying-to-keep-our-heads-on-straight) during the brief, strange and wonderful span of time when we were neighboring Cambridge-ites. Supporting our husbands. Navigating the experience. Trying to take in a mountain of hurried activities squeezed into two eager years. No one will ever quite understand that part of my life the way they do, because they lived it exactly as I did. And now, we are as far apart as can be, each pursuing new interests, each living in a new culture.

Sitting by the water in Charleston, a random location that means very little to the narrative of our stories, I felt the full impact of these glorious relationships. And I was a little bit undone. All the while, the sticky gelato melted all over my hands and I just had to laugh. This strange city, Charleston, suddenly felt so familiar to me. But it was only for these sweet, brave women.