I’ve been a parent for all of a half second, and that’s something I emphasize a lot on this blog, because I am literally a non-expert when it comes to parenting, and even though I am admittedly awesome at reading Goodnight Moon and should probably record an ebook version of it, I would be mortified to think that somebody thought I thought I knew what I was doing, because I. . .

Some of my favorite friends-who-are-also-moms and one friend-with-children-in-her-future had dinner last night, which was a small miracle since we all have busy schedules and we managed to set up the gathering with only a week lead time. I think the key there is to just put it on the calendar, surprise your spouse the night before (“I’m going out tomorrow night you’re in charge of the kiddos have fun!”) or. . .

Dear Rebecca, I’m not sure if you’ve listened to yourself talk lately. You probably haven’t, and not because you’re not a self-aware and fully actualized human being but because you have a new-ish part-time job as a garbage sorter, I mean mom. I don’t want to sound like an a-hole. I really don’t. I know you’re tired and juggling and balancing on the tightrope of life-as-mother-to-young-toddler. I know it’s the. . .

Yesterday, I had a bonafide coffee date with my kid. We walked into a Starbucks, I ordered a sandwich (I was starving) and a decaf latte for me, a steamed soy milk for him. I was imagining what happened the last time I tried this and was already calculating whether we both had changes of clothes in the car. But, ever hopeful — as moms of toddlers tend to irrationally be. . .

No, not my child, my husband, sushi or Harry Potter. Those would be way too obvious. I’m talking about these four things. And once you hear about them, you won’t be able to live without them, either. You’re welcome. 1) My American Apparel Fanny Pack. I wear it on jogs. I wear it on hikes. I wear it just walking around my house. I didn’t wear it when my kiddo. . .