The dog with the mohawk just told me he likes my boots.

The dog with the mohawk just told me he likes my boots.  Said they’re pretty badass.

This week we saw the usual suspects: dogs ordering coffee and some ticked off geese.  Why they decided to nest on the main running/biking thoroughfare on NYC’s Hudson River is beyond me, but if Mother Goose hisses at me one more time, I’m going to make foie gras out of her.  Just kidding NYC EPA.  I would not harm the wildlife with whom we share this great city.  

But it didn’t stop at geese- more wildlife adventures included petting a Golden Retriever with a mohawk, and a visit with a cute husband and wife team of cicadas.  That flew into our sunroof while driving. On the highway.  That’s what happens when you vainly spend all of your money on a beautiful new car with a sunroof .  The universe sends you a handful of reptilian bugs with 3-inch wingspans that beat like hummingbirds.  Oh, yeah, I should mention that one flew into Lauren’s dress.  

But we did end the weekend on a high note with a lovely Father’s Day weekend, including a sunset family paddle.

Weekday tradition we line up at Stone Street, dogs get their coffee, owners get their bacon treats

Weekday tradition we line up at Stone Street, dogs get their coffee, owners get their bacon treats

Cheers to another fantastic JPM Pride event.  We had torrential rain, tents, burgers, 80s DJ, the kids got smacked in the head by two warring birds in the tropical zone.  No injuries.  Pretty much the best night ever.

Cheers to another fantastic JPM Pride event. We had torrential rain, tents, burgers, 80s DJ, the kids got smacked in the head by two warring birds in the tropical zone. No injuries. Pretty much the best night ever.

Love my morning walk with Jack, get to walk by this beauty every day

Love my morning walk with Jack, get to walk by this beauty every day

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wings

Rodney hates getting the question of where we met.  Because in his mind, the office is the least cool place to meet your future wife.

I, on the other hand, disagree.

It was 1999 when I first laid eyes on his tall and lanky frame.  I was fresh out of school, eyes wide open and exhilarated about moving to New York City.

If you really want to hear about uncool stories, you could rewind the tape 9 months to my Senior year in college, when I could be found holed away in our campus library, applying to a slew of fine institutions like Lehman Brothers and Bear Stearns. In my free time, when there was any, I’d relax in my room watching my two favorite movies on repeat: Wall Street and Working Girl.

Recognizing that I may have just lost half of my readers with this story, let me try another tactic:

Tess&Gordon

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figs

Oh, figs, glorious fruit.  Did I mention that eating figs and learning to cook with them was the capstone of my year in Berkeley?  They were on every menu, usually swaddled in prosciutto or paired with blue cheese. Note to restaurants: stop using the term “bleu” cheese.  It does not make your bar snacks any fancier.  If I want fancy, I will go to Per Se, not Gordon Biersch. And yeah, you saw that right, those were potato chips on the menu, topped with “bleu” cheese.  And by the way, I can’t actually afford Per Se.  I thought my kids would fall head over heels in love with figs like I did.  And then the damn thing wasn’t ripe enough.  

ME: So guys, this one is called a……..

LAUREN: A pumpkin?

SAM: A pumpkin?

SAM: Orange?

SAM: Banana?

ME: It’s called a fig!

SAM: Figs look like this (holding it up)

ME: What does it look like?

SAM: It looks like a mandarin orange.

LAUREN: I have lots of descriptions.  When you hold it upside down it looks like a hot air balloon.  And when you tip it over like this (holding sideways), it looks like a thin pumpkin.

ME: Did you guys feel it?

LAUREN: Wet.

EMMA: Elmo did it.

SAM: It looks like a volcano.

ME: Let me cut it open and you can see the inside.

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Look mom, I found a gigantic baby in the park

Look mom, I found a gigantic baby in the park

Hey hey, it’s Wordless Wednesday.  This week, we had children in WWII garb, jackfruit sightings, dogs in beds (that doesn’t change week to week unfortunately, or fortunately), acid rain tasting, and more.  Enjoy!

Love nyc street vendors, that's a $30 jackfruit

Love nyc street vendors, that’s a $30 jackfruit

No way is this London Bridge gonna fall

No way is this London Bridge gonna fall

Leaping Lauren

Leaping Lauren 

Love waking up to this

Love waking up to this in the morning

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artichoke_pasta

If you ever visit our lakehouse in the summer, you can be sure of a few things. 

Salt & vinegar chips will be eaten with abandon.  The house will be a mess from all the kids running indoors, then outdoors, then back inside, wet bathing suits strewn about, ice pop drips on the floor. 

Although Saturdays are perfection, with no looming threat of a late afternoon road trip back to the city, Sundays are wonderful too. In some ways it’s like Groundhog Day, consistent in its ritual-like events and activities.

As often happens, I wake up to a toddler princess climbing into the bed next to me in bed, still in her costume from the night before. 

My hair is in a tangled mess, and I make no attempt to comb it before heading downstairs to greet the day.  Like Emma, I’m also wearing the same clothes from the night before, having collapsed into bed from exhaustion (or a few too many beers).

It’s often chilly in the mornings, so on top of the previous night’s clothes, I throw on my gigantic wool sweater vest that was woven from Chewbacca’s chest hair. Not kidding, I got it on Ebay.

Here’s what I’d look like if I wore it on a girls’ trip to Vegas.

chewy

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