happy sunday
So there’s this new concept being urged by disgustingly overprivileged Manhattanitish mothers: the “push present”, an expensive gift from the husband to compensate for the pain of labour.
For both my girls, Jeremy gave me a brand-new dishwasher.
Julia continues to be utterly wonderful. When she’s hungry she doesn’t cry; she just smacks her lips and rubs her hands together. And you know how when Wallace from Wallace & Gromit talks about cheese, he holds up his hands and twiddles his fingers? She does that for my milk. Endearing much?
Today we finally made it out to the new De Young. It was a perfect San Francisco day, all blue and gold and gorgeous. I sat in the sun in the sculpture garden drinking chai, while Jules snoozed in the Moby Wrap and Jeremy and Claire frolicked among the Henry Moores.
