Back to school, bitches!

I do not normally address my glorious children, the very fruit of my loins, in this manner. Of course I do not. But Thanksgiving break kinda kicked my ass.

And I made them cinnamon rolls. What more do you want?

On Wednesday.

On Wednesday, the young gentlemen and I had a little San Francisco adventure. It was a gorgeous clear day and we were joined my gorgeous clear sister (also known as Aunt Liza) at the beautiful Legion of Honor, where we contemplated Rodin's The Thinker. We were inspired and thrilled by Japanese prints and whined because we were hungry.

And because we were in the neighborhood, we stopped by my old SF apartment (fourth photo, upper right windows), where one could hear the foghorns at night and see the very tippy top of the Golden Gate bridge from the fire escape, and where I spent the better part of my twenties, mostly in tears. But that's another story. Then we ate grilled sandwiches at Angelina's, my ultra-favorite coffee shop and deli.

Not pictured, but also in the neighborhood: Rainbow Wash, where my favorite jeans were stolen and Westlake Grocery, where I learned that I do not smoke. Also, another story.

Friday, I'm in love....

So very much in love with these delish shoes from jcrew. And with socks? To die for. I kept the catalog around for a week just so I could look at the picture of them. Yeah. I did. And then I pitched it because I just couldn't see myself wearing them to kindergarten. I'll just admire them from afar.

My baby sent me a letter.

I got a letter from Fin. And I'm a big fat show-off.

Also, Happy Thanksgiving.

Remember these?

Maybe not. It's the glorious Waste-Not Tote! Same delicious recycled canvas as the Waste-Not Shoulder Bag, two pockets outside, gorgeous scrappy stripes.... In the shop soon!

Three things.

1. Everything is more complicated than it seems.

2. The more I learn about the global economy, the harder it is to feel good about anything.

3. I have to go make chocolate-chip banana bread with my kids now.

Thank you, Grandma!

I got a box in the mail from my grandma last week. She hopes I can use some of her old sewing stuff. Christmas came early my dears, because there's nothing I like more than old stuff, unless it's surprise old stuff from Marge!

Look! Scarves! Some are better than others and I want to wear all of them - even though I'm accessory-challenged. It's a real disability.

Remember Kathy Ireland? She thought one size fit all. I wonder what happened to her.

Really, Grandma?

And zips!

And a shoebox-full of "extra buttons." I always wondered where I got my hoarding tendencies.

And thread as far as the eye can see....

But this is, by far, my favorite thing. The name tags she sewed into my Dad's clothes when he went to camp. Fifty years ago. Oh, Grandma - I love you! And I'm so grateful! Thank you thank you - I will use everything and love every minute. I couldn't be more delighted....

And super-thanks to Uncle Wob for packing it all up and shipping it out here.

xoxo Love,

Becky

Happy (rainy) weekend.

the Loveliest of greetings.

Wasn't this the loveliest of greetings this morning? I mean. look at them. So they're available on iTunes now. But, look at them. They're lovely.

New bag preview: Waste-Not Shoulder Bag.

Did I tell you about this canvas that I found? It's recycled - woven from cotton and polyester fibers that would otherwise end up in landfill - and made in the USA! Plus, it's super-soft and the edges fray so beautifully in the wash. I want to make everything out of it. First - this bag. Four pockets on the outside, adjustable shoulder strap, lined with organic cotton. It's a beast and I'm in love with it.

Doubtful Sound Fjord.

Yes, my loves - I'm adrift in my own fjord of doubtful sounds and extra voices.... However, the fact that I'm up at 4:38 AM chattering about it is a good sign - you look doubtful but it's true. I'm feeling inspired and decisive this dark morning and I'm almost 100% sure which sheer cliff to paddle toward. And scale.

ps. Doubtful Sound is a real place. It's in New Zealand. I totally did not make it up.

And? Thank you to those who sweetly encouraged and especially to those who kicked my ass.

Great looking eyes at any age!

Usually that's the type of headline I will avoid at all costs, but..... here's how the story went (and I'm paraphrasing for comedic value, but you'll get the idea):

In your 20s: buy some moisturizer and do whatever you want!

In your 30s: start using the moisturizer and do pretty much whatever you want!

In your 40s: find a nice shade of lipstick.

What?

Beautiful shadow that I am apparently too old to wear by Orglamix.

California Academy of Sciences.

See? I'm a good Mom.

Coffee talk.

Me: I just can't seem to do it all.

Julie: Oh, you should definitely keep trying.

Julie: I'm kidding.

A cry for help?

So, here's the thing: If my business grows just a teensy bit more, I'm going to need help. Or, right now. Actually, I probably should have hired someone like a month ago. This is good, right? Great even.

But, no. As usual, I am angst-ridden, undersleeping and overthinking. I have issues.

For example: Why can't I handle this myself? It's not as if this is a full-time job for me. It's just that with the mothering and the housekeeping, I'm fighting a war on three fronts. And losing. Other moms do this. And some of them have more kids than I do. Am I incompetent?

And: The last thing I want to do is hire out the sewing or the child care. Because those are the things I actually like (I'm undaunted by the fact that they tend to be mutually exclusive). I'd like to hire someone to do the errands and the laundry and tidy up a bit. Is that hireable? I'm thinking not.

Plus: I have an 8-page rant about the it's-so-hard-to-find-good-help set that I won't share with you right now. It pretty much boils down to never wanting to say the words, "It's so hard to find good help."

Also: It possible that I have a fear of success equal to or greater than my fear of failure. (Admittedly, that has been irrelevant so far.)

Furthermore: I suck at delegating. But that seems like a flaw worth fixing. (Unlike my persistent daydreaming and inability to accessorize, which don't seem worth doing anything about.)

A cry for help? So, if you're nice and you've ever gone through this and have great advice for me - gimme a shout. Or, even if you're just nice.

Beautiful photograph called "Brave" by Yvette Inufio.

Happy Election Day!

Hi Friends. Here's an actual conversation from my home this evening...

Seamus (age 7): Some people have a king and they don't get to vote.

Me (age 41): That's right. We used to have a king, and then there was a revolution and now we elect our leaders by a vote. (Civics! I am awesome!)

Me (again): Fin, could you not write on the grout with a pencil?

Seamus: I saw Bill Clinton talking with a megaphone.

Me: He was our president before....

Seamus: but now he's dead.

Me: Well, no.

Seamus: President Bush was voting for the Texas Rangers.

Me: I know! LOSER!