Throw a stone at the momfluencer corner of the internet (or at least my momfluencer corner of the internet), and you’ll hit a dozen Whimsy Moms on your first try. The algo has my number, knowing that I am very much infatuated with their proclivity towards a creative, laissez-faire but also somehow incredibly intentional approach to parenting, with hints of Type B behaviors (my favorite kind) coming through every reel. They’re doing watercolors by the neighborhood creek, they’re wearing clothing in a ROYGBIV color scheme. They’re burning taper candles at dinnertime and there’s always glitter in the periphery. They’re crunchier than the Fashion Moms, breezier than the Analog Moms. They’re one adaptogenic bevvy chiller than the Tradwife. They’re good-time gals and damn if they don’t make you want to be in their orbits.

And there’s a reason for that: when we become mothers, our ability to meet serendipity almost instantly wanes. Yes, there’s a lot of newness—learning how to feed an infant, tending to cracked nipples, acclimating to an existence built on 3 hours of sleep—but the bulk of it lacks the hedonistic delight we spend most of our teenage years and young adulthood chasing.

Parenthood fun is planned fun, for the most part, due to the various needs of small children that require forethought: what are we eating for lunch? Who needs naps and when? We’ve got a birthday party at the trampoline park at 2pm and we have to be back by 5pm to get everyone fed and bathed. Gone are the days of deciding at 7:58pm that, ya know what? Let’s go try that new Peruvian restaurant tonight! And maybe the tiki bar after? I once hopped on a flight with my boyfriend (now husband) to spend 48 hours in Scotland. It’s really, really hard to find that kind of adventure in the thick of parenthood—the minutiae of everyday obligations and the consistency required in early childhood simply impedes those pursuits.

Which is why whimsy is so appealing. The idea that I can add one small thing to my life, or tweak our highly-scheduled routine just a fraction, and things will feel shinier, brighter, more fun-filled, offers a kind of false solace that nothing has changed or maybe more aptly: I haven’t changed.

The problem with lusting after whimsy is that the shininess wears off too quickly. We pull on a pair of socks with cats in tutus on them, get the dopamine hit we wanted, and then pad out to the cluttered kitchen to make macaroni again. The thing we really want isn’t the short-lived rush of sprinkles on our oatmeal, but a longer-lasting phenomenon: novelty.

Unlike whimsy, novelty lies in pursuits that feel fresh, unique, interesting, maybe even a little daunting or audacious. Ideally, novelty arrives in a more substantial package than whimsy does; it’s enrolling in the 6-week ceramics class instead of buying a cute East Fork mug in the shade lagoon. It’s scheduling or prioritizing something out of the ordinary that may require expanding a way of thinking, becoming a student again, taking a step outside of a comfort zone.

I didn’t exactly plan it, but I’ve noticed myself seeking novelty this year more than I ever have. I joined the jump roping bandwagon, but not just grabbing my kids’ rope and hopping around once in awhile: I researched which rope is best for beginners, I learned how to trim it down properly to my height, I downloaded an app to instruct me on tricks and form. I also started to flip secondhand furniture, teaching myself the ins-and-outs of the resale game. And I began writing a novel—reading craft books, following other nascent novelists, creating a writing space for myself. These things felt good because they were joltingly unfamiliar, their open-ended timeframes and outlines offering a kind of beguiling uncertainty—an unpredictability—that hadn’t been felt amidst the school lunch-making, the dishwashing, the calendaring, the binge-watching, the unending tidying.

Whimsy is great, and I will forever be looking for little things to make the days a little brighter. It doesn’t have to be one or the other. But it’s the adoption of novelty that will be felt months or even years later—a sort of coming home to the self, a reminder that you can eke out more from this phase of life than you may have thought possible. And maybe most importantly, it proves to us that we still have agency over our lives even when the laundry pile tries to convince us otherwise. Novel pursuits and experiences serve as little nudges, whispers to remind us: There is more for you yet.

How to integrate novelty into your life

• Enlist a buddy. Two of my oldest and best friends and I have been getting together monthly and trading dinner meetups for novel activities: an escape room, a self-defense class, and yes, a ceramics class. It’s such a delight to know not just that I get to see my friends but that I’m also segmenting time for something that will challenge me or delight me in a way I wasn’t expecting.

• Plan ahead. Getting something on the calendar means you’re more likely to follow through. Ideally this would be paired with a monetary buy-in, even a tiny one, making backing out a heavier lift.

• Extend the experience. If you’re thinking about taking a class to learn a new skill, commit to more than one session. Give yourself a chance to figure out if it’s something you want to do more of (or not!)

• If you’re stuck, start with what you kind-of know. If you’re having trouble even coming up with something novel to try, think about things that you enjoyed when you were a kid, or things you do now on a smaller scale. What can you bring back into your life from childhood? What are you already doing that you could go deeper on?

• Travel can offer a quick fix. Our annual travel budget is, shall I say, modest during this phase of life but if you have the time and money to plan a getaway—even just a night or two away—an unfamiliar setting is the ticket (pun intended) to seeing the world (and yourself) with fresh eyes.

You might also like…

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Including an audio version that I recorded on the floor of our bedroom hiding from my kids!!

I’m reminding myself:

An idyllic summer with children doesn’t exist.

There will be whining and fighting. There will be tears from everyone, at some point between June and September. There will be a desire for more time and less time, simultaneously.

There will be regrets, and let-downs, and maybe a sense of loss, of wishing something existed that didn’t.

But there will also be laughter, and popsicles, and slip-n-slides. There will be secrets whispered in treehouses, full days spent in the sunshine by a body of water.

And if you’re lucky, really lucky, there will be a handful of moments you can hold in your sand-covered hands, stick in the back pocket of your cutoffs, tuck in between the pages of a book you’ll only get halfway through. They will be miraculously unmarred when you reach for them years later, near-pristine souvenirs of the past, memories made perfect by the passage of time. They will have obscured the disappointment and illuminated the joy, as if by magic.

No, the summer won’t be idyllic with kids in your wake. But it will be enough if you let it be enough. We don’t get to slurp the entire watermelon of summer into our bellies during this season of life, but we can still take the too-few, too-small, imperfectly cut slices we’re given and taste the flesh on our tongues. Do not let the seeds stuck in your teeth prevent you from savoring its sweetness.

More soon from me. I’ve barely been able to string two thoughts together during this break, but I’m still finding tiny micro-blips of creativity, seedlings of inspiration. They’re tucked away in my journal, my notes app, the crevices of my tired brain, waiting for me when I can revisit them and share some of them here. I hope you’re finding small happinesses in what can feel like long days.

And to all you new subscribers: hi hi hi. I’m so glad you’re here.

A few fun summer things:

• Finally reading The Wedding People, which has been on my TBR since it became the book of the summer in 2024, and man is it living up to my high expectations. Plus, it feels like a very good poolside read: funny, sharply written and utterly bingeable.

• I ordered a book about human design—I love things like the Enneagram, Myers-Briggs, and other woo-woo concepts, and have always wondered about this one. If you’ve jumped into human design before, let me know what you thought of it!

• We threw my daughter a little Taylor Swift-themed party for her 5th birthday (!!!) and xo Fetti had such a good lineup of themed items—I got the napkins, tattoos and nail stickers but could have bought the whole store.

• Liz and Amelia at asked me what was on my bucket list this summer—head over to see what I said. (Hint: it doesn’t involve my kids.)

• at Recently Enjoyed Things reminded me that Bubly’s Melted Ice Pop seltzer is back for the summer—a true micro-joy for the season.

• 27 places to find inspo that aren’t Pinterest via , many of which don’t involve a screen.

• This beaded mobile feels like the attainable, kid-friendly craft I didn’t know I needed this summer.

• S’more s’mores, always: this icebox cake from is so good I’ve made it three times, and these golden graham bars from at How Sweet Eats are up next.

• The perfect boat tote from of big feelings because if ever there was a time for big feelings, it’s summer break at home with small children!

• Last but not least: my hyperfixation warm-weather breakfast. It’s so good.

Congrats to the winner of the Summer Books giveaway, Maddie! The new Meg Mason will be on its way to her at the end of the summer after its release. And just as a reminder: Meg’s book Sorrow and Bliss is one of my all time favorite reads (Maddie is a fan, too!)

It was such a blast to do a little giveaway in the Fall Books Preview—so let’s do another one for the Summer Books issue!

Summer reading lists seem to be the most fun to both read and curate, and are often so stacked with potential that it can even be a tiny bit anxiety inducing: how am I going to get through all these books in one season?

And the truth is: you won’t. BUT, the great news is those same summer books can absolutely seep into your fall, winter, spring reading lists too. Who doesn’t want a beach escape in December anyways?

Keeping with Worth Mentioning book roundups of yore, these 10 books contain themes of womanhood, motherhood, friendship, and/or girlhood—I crave these vibes year round, but especially in the summer, when I’m planning pool parties with my pals, spending warm days with my kids at the river, and also probably griping to my mom friends about the utter lack of alone time (no but really, tell me we’re gonna make it through…)

I hope one of these books will keep you company amidst it all—please report back if you read any of them! Share the list with a friend (or two or three) and don’t forget to enter the giveaway, too.

The Summer Reading Preview: Books on Motherhood, Womanhood + Friendship

June Baby by Shannon Garvey (Out now)

Ruth has been spending her summers on Block Island since her mother died when Ruth was only seventeen and she was taken in by a photographer named Diana Beckett. Back on the island again, Ruth is delivered a box that upends everything she thought she knew about the two women who raised her. There’s mystery, there are seaside sunsets, there’s a love story—what more could you ask for from a summer read?

The Gulf of Lions by Caitlin Shetterly (Out now)

After simultaneously being diagnosed with cancer and learning of her husband’s infidelity, Alice and her two young daughters set off for France, where she begins to remember herself in a new light—but will it upset their fragile family dynamics in the process? I live for a midlife becoming and anything about mothers and daughters—and I expect this one to deliver on both fronts.

The Burning Side by Sarah Damoff (Out now)

When Leo and April’s house goes up in flames, the life they knew and loved is lost. Returning to April’s childhood home in Dallas, the couple must grapple with the cracks in the marriage to see if they can come out the other side together. Told in alternating POVs (Leo, April, and April’s mother), along with flashbacks to the early years of their partnership, this family saga is going to be fire (pun intended). I loved Damoff’s 2025 novel, The Bright Years—she’s a masterful storyteller.

Valley of the Moms by Hannah Selinger (Out 6/2)

Hailed as The Stepford Wives meets Big Little Lies, this thriller follows the story of Anna, a mother of two in a wealthy suburban town, who is found dead after a run-in with the head of the PTA. As a new elementary school mom, I’m excited to read a fictional tale of the politics I’m beginning to witness firsthand.

Girl’s Girl by Sonia Feldman (Out 6/2)

Feldman’s debut is a dream seasonal selection: the mainstays of girlhood—gossip, sleepovers, open-ended lazy days—accompany Mina and her two best friends during a typical midwest summer, until a stolen kiss changes everything. It’s giving Now & Then with a little extra edge—exactly what I want to read in June.

Little Wonder by Sophie Chen Keller (Out 6/16)

The latest pick for Jenna Bush Hager’s imprint, Thousand Voices, Little Wonder chronicles the story of Song and her musical prodigy son, River, in Beijing. After Song loses River in a busy train station, she spends the following years searching for him, as River unwittingly does the same for her. Will their paths lead back to one another? This one is sure to pull on all the heartstrings.

You Won’t Get Free of It: Stories of Mothers and Daughters by Rachel Aviv (Out 7/7)

In a collection of six stories—some of which were previous iterations published in The New Yorker—Aviv explores the complicated relationship between mother and daughter, about the identities they forge uniquely and in relation to one another. I haven’t read a short story collection in a minute, so I’m looking forward to picking this one up.

Take What You Can by Naima Coster (Out 8/4)

This short and sweet synopsis hooked me immediately: “Weaving between Brooklyn brownstones and the glittering beaches of southern France, Take What You Can is a dazzling novel exploring what it means to be a mother when you have none, a sister without blood ties, and a woman in pursuit of the life she wants.” COME ON.

You’ll Love It Here by Natalie Sue (Out 8/11)

Ok, this one isn’t explicitly on theme, but I couldn’t not include Natalie Sue’s sophomore novel, about Mona who, down on her luck, strikes a deal with her eccentric landlord to become the super of her building. Amidst the chaos of her motley crew of tenants, Mona finds belonging in the most unlikely of places. I loved Sue’s debut I Hope This Finds You Well—which was both hilarious and deeply poignant—and I have a feeling this is going to have a lot of the same vibes.

Sophie, Standing There by Meg Mason (Out 8/27 in UK // 9/8 in US)

I adored Sorrow and Bliss by Mason, and was thrilled to see another release from her this summer! This one is about Sophie (obviously) who prefers to spend her time alone, often in the company of books, despite being adored by the people in her life. When Sophie rediscovers the works of an author she hasn’t read in years, she unearths a connection that she feels has been missing. Mason writes sentences that will gut you and make you laugh in the same breath. Plus, it’s blurbed by , so you know it’s gonna be good.

Spring Releases You May Have Missed

Clutch by

Five friends from college are navigating marriage, career, motherhood and the many other messy facets of midlife in their respective corners of the country. After 20 years apart, they reunite in Palm Springs to help each other reconcile their pasts, and pave the way for their futures.

Kin by Tayari Jones

The author of An American Marriage is back with a story about two friends who come back together in the face of tragedy. Hailed as ”a novel about mothers and daughters, friendship and sisterhood, and the complexities of being a woman in the American South,” this one is right in the Worth Mentioning wheelhouse!

Where The Girls Were by

Set against San Francisco’s pulsing energy of the late 1960s, good-girl Elizabeth “Baker” gets pregnant at age seventeen and everything changes. In an effort to hide her secret, Baker is sent to a home for unwed mothers, where she meets a gaggle of pregnant girls who share her shame. Together, they form an unlikely community, their combined strength ushering them from one reality to another. Historical fiction at its best, WTGW highlights a “little-known moment in American history, when the sexual revolution and feminist movement collided with the limits of reproductive rights—and society's expectations of women.”

Cleo Dang Would Rather Be Dead by Mai Nguyen

An “uplifting and darkly humorous” novel (sign me up) about a grieving mother who takes a job at a funeral home in the wake of tragedy—discovering that the best way to honor the dead is to live. This melancholy synopsis is reminding me a bit of The Road to Tender Hearts by Annie Hartnett (which I adored): themes of loss and grief with a big heap of hope and joy on top. Thanks to for recommending this on ’s vacation reads post!

The Size of Your Joy: Poems by

Poems about motherhood, womanhood, life that will make you laugh and cry and nod in recognition. Plus, the cover is a real showstopper—which Elise dreamed up and created herself! We love a woman of many talents.

American Fantasy by

Annie reluctantly embarks on a cruise with her sister to spend a week at sea with throngs of middle-aged women—and the 90s-era boy band they crooned over in their teenage years. This one is guaranteed fun. But what I’m most excited by is Straub’s spotlighting the ways in which we can return to ourselves, remake ourselves, reimagine ourselves throughout our lives, insisting that it’s never too late for new possibilities.

Leave a comment + be entered to win!

This Week’s 10 Honorable Mentions

• Fitting for this issue: recently launched her Book Club (amazing name), which features contemporary fiction and non-fiction by women writers. Right up my alley and all I want to read tbh.

• Also appropos of this newsletter edition: how to encouraging reading with kids from .

  Savoring Each Season

  Issue #74: 10 Ways We Encourage Reading with Our Kids

  Yesterday we shared a big fat fabulous roundup of book recommendations, for both moms and kids, and today, we’re excited to share… how exactly we get those kiddos to read regularly! Sometimes it’s a struggle (tv shows, video games, and friends can be much more preferred ha!), other times, it’s a struggle to get a book…

  Read more

  3 months ago · 11 likes · 4 comments · Liz (Greene) Burdett and Amelia Larsen

• And it would be remiss of me not to mention ’s roundup of children’s books for summer and ’s children’s summer book preview.

• Treating ’s Fiber Files like the midlife bible it is—the recipes look so good.

• Californians: Don’t forget to vote on Tuesday, June 2nd! Here is a helpful resource, and another one for good measure.

• I read Loved and Missed by Susie Boyt this month, and know I’ll be thinking about that one for awhile. The last third of the book made the biggest impact on me—a reminder of how complex and heartwrenching and full of love motherhood is.

• Did you watch the series finale of Hacks on Thursday? I thought it was perfect. I’m gonna miss that cast a whole lot.

• 100% of dreams come true. ( even made us a print 🥹)

• Just trust me: the perfect martini is 5:1:1 — 50ml gin/10ml vermouth/10ml olive brine. h/t to my friend Rachel for this genius! (And don’t get fancy with the olives, you’ll regret it.)

• Last but not least: three (simple-ish + kid-adaptable) art projects for the weekend, c/o @funkyfossildesigns, @lizkissstudio, @sanjaydhawanart.

Looking for more reading recs? I got you…

This is Part 2 of this series on attempting to write a novel this year! (Part 1 is here.) Inside, I’m sharing how it’s going, what I’m learning, how much actual time I’m able to write (logistically and emotionally, ha), what books or tools I’m currently using, and anything else that pops up that feels worth mentioning. These editions are for paid subscribers—just keeping these close to the vest for now since it’s such a vulnerable project. A free issue will be going out next week (Summer Reading Preview!) so stay tuned for that!

In this issue you’ll find:

• how far I got this month: word count and time spent at my desk

• what else I did to make progress beyond actual writing

• books I’m reading that are inspiring and guiding me (fiction + craft)

• a fun “tool” I’m using to set the vibe

• goals and plans for May and June (which includes my kids’ summer break, yikes!)

So, how far did I get in March and April?

Read more

He talked about his loose tooth for what felt like years. Each week, he would approach me with his mouth agape, his pointer finger atop one of his bottom teeth, trying to incite some movement by pushing it back and forth. The tooth didn’t budge, though I feigned intrigue anyways, as mothers do, quietly thrilled that there was no change. Every six months we’d visit the dentist, and each inquiry into teeth lost was met with the same response: not yet! And again, relief would wash over me.

After six years of near-constant milestones—first steps, first word, first birthday, first day of school—I was happy to welcome a lull in the momentum. Of course, microshifts were happening every second of every day, but they were nearly imperceptible, a slight of hand so calculated I wouldn’t recognize the trick until I had long been bamboozled into thinking nothing had changed. In the meantime, I could convince myself that my first baby was still just that—my baby—and that time would stand still momentarily, that the fangs of change would be veiled until I could catch my breath.

But a few months ago, they reappeared, ready to bite. My son’s tooth was finally actually loose, indiscernible to me at first, then more apparent as the weeks marched on. We catalogued the progress together, a pit beginning to grow in my stomach. Though there would be many more milestones ahead—first date, first car, first heartbreak, first job—I knew this was one of the last little kid milestones. Ahead was a new chapter of unknowns, an initiation into the big kid era.

At 42, I’ve begun to stare down the barrel of aging. But instead of dreading it, I’ve mostly felt grateful to get older. It’s saccharine, pollyanna-ish, and even a little morbid, but I’m acutely aware that many don’t have the chance to age, to experience their own milestones, much less their children’s. And yet, I had been hiding behind the corner, fearful of their arrival, when I should have been sprinting after them, eagerly scooping them into my arms to feel their weight fully, to wring them dry of their earnestness, their innocence, their joy, their novelty. I would never outrun them anyways; it was a race against time, and time always wins.

After school one day, as my son absentmindedly toyed with the loose tooth in his mouth while coloring at the dinner table, out it came. He squealed, beaming with pride, and I instantly joined him in his giddiness. A lost tooth! Another milestone, another tiny heartbreak, another miraculous witnessing of my child growing, changing, becoming, being.

That night I looked through the pictures I took of his now gap-toothed grin, holding the teensy tooth up to the camera; he was glowing. I thought back to those other firsts that felt so far away now—a few that I could recall easily and many that were a little hazy. What I did remember from each was a feeling of awe: what luck, to be here for this, to see this with my own eyes. Those milestones hadn’t vanished after their appearance, the way a mile marker might on a cross country drive. I could still see those memories’ mirages in the rearview mirror, even if I had to squint a little, but more importantly I could feel them. The landmarks and pit stops that mattered would be tattooed on my insides forever, an invisible scrapbook of nostalgia pasted on my ever-yearning heart.

That night before bedtime, he asked me if I thought the tooth fairy would consider leaving the tooth behind, because he really wanted to keep it. I told him I thought it was a definite possibility, and to ask for it before he fell asleep. A few minutes later, I heard him whispering in the dark, a sweet plea to a small, unknown somebody.

Overnight, the tooth fairy had arrived and departed, leaving behind a $5 bill (big bucks for the first tooth, of course) and a small metal tin in which his tooth remained. The fairy, who must be a mother herself, let the lost thing be found again. He was grateful to hold his tooth again in the morning, and I was grateful to hold my toothless big kid, in a fleeting moment before everything would, assuredly, change again.

Though the big milestones may be less frequent in the coming years doesn’t mean there is less to celebrate. Now I find myself with searching eyes and perked-up ears in pursuit of smaller moments where awe might be hiding: a completed chapter book, the mastery of roller blades, a bowl of cereal prepared for his little sister.

These, too, I realize may often be lost to the sands of time, passing without my noticing. But I’ll keep trying to grasp them before they slip through my fingers, and with any luck a few grains will cling to my sticky palms forever, nestled in my life line for safekeeping, tiny lost things waiting to be found again.

Worth Reading: Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell

I mentioned that I was reading Hamnet a couple issues ago, and now that I’ve finished it, I can’t stop telling everyone I know to read this book. It’s so beautifully written, piercing and moving, storytelling at its best. I’ve never read motherhood written in the way Maggie O’Farrell has—the fierceness and protection and devotion rendered so aptly on the page. Incredible.

Once you’re done reading, pop over to hear the incredibly charming Jessie Buckley talk books on One Nightstand. And if you somehow missed her acceptance speech at the Oscars, grab some tissues and queue it up ASAP. (In my opinion, the movie adaptation doesn’t compare to the book, but Jessie Buckley and Paul Mescal are still a delight to watch.)

Worth Watching: Sentimental Value

I wasn’t expecting to like this movie so much—it’s Norwegian, with subtitles, and tracks the fraught relationship between a father and his daughters. But this movie pulled me in immediately, and I became so enamored with sisters Agnes and Nora. The scene between the two of them near the end left an imprint on me that I won’t soon forget. Streaming on Disney+/Hulu.

Worth Sipping: Strawberry Coast

I made this cocktail for my sister’s Oscars party, and it was a smash hit. I adapted a recipe from an old menu I had from Napa Valley Distillery—it’s such a bright cocktail, with a sweet/tart combo that doesn’t miss.

• 1.5 oz vodka

• 1 oz strawberry simple syrup*

• .75 oz fresh lime juice

• .5 oz passion fruit liqueur

• .25 oz orange liqueur (Cointreau or similar)

Shake all ingredients in a shaker with ice until very cold, about 20 seconds. Double strain into a chilled coupe. Garnish with a lime wheel or sliced strawberry.

* To make the strawberry simple syrup, combine 1 cup sugar, 1 cup water, and 1.5 cups of roughly chopped strawberries in a saucepan over medium-low heat. Simmer for 10 minutes, smashing strawberries lightly around 5 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool in pan. Strain through a fine mesh strainer, squeezing out the liquid from the berries. Will keep in fridge for about 2 weeks.

Worth Spending: Motherboard Press Planner

Calling all possibly perimenopausal, exhausted, disregulated, maybe a bit ADHD moms!! (Me.) This planner will fix it all. Just kidding. But it has helped me get my days in order somewhat, so that I’m not scrolling/staring into the abyss quite as much. Plus, the founder Cari is just the bees knees, and walks you through how she’s using her own planner and managing a chaotic life with three kids which I find helpful and even kind of soothing? Anyways, I’ve never had luck with planners in the past but this one feels like it might just stick. Plus, it’s undated so you can start anytime, and you get to support a small, woman-owned business.

Worth Begrudgingly Buying: Izipizi Readers

After spending what has probably amounted to years squinting in low-lit restaurants to read the tiny-printed (always) menus, I finally gave into the call of glasses. I had been kind of dreading the purchase, and knew that to get myself hyped up for this step further into midlife I had to find a pair that made me excited to put them on. I ordered some at Warby Parker, then returned them, then spent 57958734 hours looking at glasses online, then popped into an adorable small shop in Petaluma and snagged a very cute pair that I love. They’re lightweight and reasonably priced and come in a million colors and patterns.

Worth Reading Aloud: A Quick Trip to the Store by Sam Wedelich

Is going grocery shopping with your kids the tenth circle of hell for you, too? Then this book is for you!!! There’s pleading for sugary cereal, running amok through the aisles, spills and screams! Relatable content!! My 4-year-old and I both giggled and nodded knowingly the whole time. Adding this one to our forever collection stat. (I know I discovered this from one of my many favorite kids book Substackers, but cannot for the life of me track it back—please pipe up if it’s you and you’re reading this!!)

Also loving: The Kissing Hand by Audrey Penn (a classic I had somehow never read, my daughter and I both cried), I’m Very Busy by Oliver Jeffers

Worth Listening: Charlie Puth on The Person Who Believed in Me Podcast

Ok this is such a wildcard but I stumbled upon this podcast episode and found it so intimate and life-giving. The interview goes way beyond Puth’s music career, exploring his fear of vulnerability and the anxieties that have stood in the way of growth, personally and professionally.

Worth Clicking: Artemis II Is Competency Porn and We Are Starving For It

In her newsletter, Airplane Mode, Liz Plank dissects why we were so enthralled by the Artemis II mission. Beyond its ambitious goal—to glimpse the far side of the moon, previously unseen by human eyes—she asserts that it was the display of aptitude, intelligence, integrity, and a thoughtful, soul-centered communication about the project that gave us a hope in humanity we haven’t experienced at a national level in years. She writes:

We have gotten so used to watching the people who are supposed to be in charge fail loudly, fail publicly, fail in ways that feel designed to make us feel small and powerless, that watching four people simply be extraordinary at an extraordinarily hard thing produced in many of us something close to shock. We did not know we were this hungry for it. We did not know how much we had been bracing. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t realize how clenched I was. Nobody told me that watching competent people do a hard thing correctly would be the most therapeutic experience of my adult life.

When the bracing stopped, for a few days, because someone finally did the thing correctly, and the thing was going to the moon, and they named a crater after a nurse, and they hid easter eggs in the spacecraft, and they held hands in zero gravity, and you felt, perhaps for the first time in a while, that the people running important things might actually know what they are doing.

I’m absolutely still consuming/bookmarking/sharing Artemis II content to keep these immaculate vibes going, how bout you?

Worth Noting: March’s 10 Honorable Mentions

1. Another recently enjoyed grown-up read: Homeschooled by Stefan Merrill Block, memoir—a captivating peek into a world I knew nothing about.

2. Fearing what feels like an inevitable ailment induced by my aerosol dry-shampoo overuse before school drop off everyday, I’m gonna give Ceremonia’s brush/powder situation a whirl.

3. I regret to inform you that the BonBon sour blackberry fish are kind of worth the outrageous cost of a whopping $9 per (small) bag. I found them at Anthro, but I’ve seen them at World Market and lots of small gift-y shops stock them now too.

4. Two Instagram accounts: @bestiesnyc for heartwarming stories about real life BFFs, and @thiefofmemory, just a beautiful, unique bookstagram account unlike anything else I’ve come across.

5. Honestly obsessed with Goldie’s picnic bag which is both chic and super functional. I wish I could gift one to every mom in my life!

6. Target x Andie Swim collab, A+.

7. As a child whose favorite toy was an old-school adding machine (complete with paper receipts), I highly agree with the idea to buy your toddler office supplies.

8. She Risked Her Voice to Become a Mother, The Daily. Such a thoughtful, resonant look at the pull between ambition and motherhood.

9. Loved this conversation with at Godmother’s Bookstore—I adore the way she talks about aging, and rediscovering possibility in midlife. I loved This Time Tomorrow, and am so excited to read her latest, American Fantasy.

10. In case you needed a good cry today, I got u!

Thank you for reading, ilysm!

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Before I decided that I wanted to start working on a novel this year, I searched for writers in a similar life phase as me (late 30s/early 40s, mothers of young kids) writing about, well, writing1. Throw a stone at the Substack writerverse and you’ll hit a thousand unencumbered 20-somethings tinkering away at their WIPs. It’s sweet to watch them chronicle the ways in which they spend their open-ended weekends at their desks, a homemade london fog tea in hand, candles dotted around their laptop. They can get up early and write as the sun rises, or sleep late and work into the night. It’s very romantic and damn if I’m not extremely envious of them all.

Alas, my writing life looks a little…different. I’m juggling my part-time work as a photographer, full-time work as a mom of a pre-K kiddo and a 1st grader, and general manager of our household. How does one write in these suboptimal conditions? So I thought it might be interesting to start this series: to share what my actual writing life looks like—everything from how I’m making the time, what I’m actually doing to move this thing forward, what I’m reading (inspiring fiction and books on craft), how I’m finding community in writing—and the many roadblocks that inevitably inhibit all of the above.

This series—which I’m calling Novel Motherhood—is for paid subscribers. Because it’s vulnerable writing about something that is going to take time to complete with no guarantee of “success” at the end, I wanted to keep it a little close to the vest. I’d love for you to come along for the ride — just hit the button below to upgrade your subscription, which is 20% off this weekend.

Subscribe for just $4/month

In this issue you’ll find:

• When the idea for a novel came to me, a bird’s eye view of the book’s themes, and why now

• How much time I spent actually writing this month: what that looked like, what went right and what went wrong

• The tools I’m using to write and plan the book out

• My desk setup—and the small changes that made a big difference

• What I’m changing in March + April, and what I’m focusing on next

• A mini roundup of the things that are inspiring me right now

Read more

I listened to a lot of audiobooks this year. Embracing audiobooks has had a profound impact on my ability to consume more books each year, and a well-produced audiobook can absolutely unlock something in me that may not have come through on the page. I mostly reserve audio for memoir (hearing the author narrate their experience in their own words is unparalleled), but I listened to several novels on audio this year that moved me immensely, too (Wild Dark Shore, Broken Country, James). If you’ve got small kids, I can’t emphasize enough how audio can be a portal to reconnecting to reading in a really busy, exhausting season like early parenthood (see also: grief, caregiving of any kind, illness). It’s one of my key tenets in How to Read More as a Mom.

So, what did I read this year? Here’s the rundown…

First, a few stats1 on the books I read:

• 42 books in total

• 23 were contemporary fiction

• 10 were memoir

• 4 were thriller/suspense

• 3 were nonfiction

• 1 was poetry

• 1 was YA

• 57% were audio, 43% were paper

• 23 were released in 2025; 19 were backlist

• 35 written by female authors, 7 by male authors

My 2026 Reading Goals

I have a few reading goals for this year—nothing crazy, just some things I want to keep in mind in creating a thoughtful reading life:

1. Read more books by people of color. I only read five this year, which can be greatly improved upon.

2. Read more physical books. I know I championed audiobooks above (and I meant every word!), but my reasoning for this is that a) I think it’s good for my brain to have to process the words on the actual page in a time where my focus feels constantly scattered and b) as I work on my novel, I want to spend more time really dissecting how writers write great books—hard to do when listening to audio.

3. Read 43 books. That’s just one more book than last year which feels good, and attainable.

4. Keep reading way more female authors than men, lol. I’m way more interested in the viewpoint of a woman than a man in this current phase of life and I am not at all sorry about it.

My Top 12 Books of 2025

These were my very favorites of the year! Below is a brief synopsis of each and a quick note on why I loved it.

The Road to Tender Hearts by Annie Hartnett - The most heartwarming story about 63-year-old PJ Halliday, a lottery winner, alcoholic and grieving father, who sets out on a cross-country road trip to Arizona to win back his high school crush.

Hartnett wrote this book during the pandemic when everything was feeling a bit, shall we say, dark, hoping to help readers (and herself) process pain through laughter and empathy. You will fall in love with every (very flawed) character, and miss them the second you close the back cover. The last line of the book still makes me cry every time I think of it.

Wild Dark Shore by Charlotte McConaghy - A family living in isolation on a remote island seed bank rescues a mysterious woman washed ashore. Secrets and past losses force them to confront a tenuous future, and where they fit into it.

This was beautifully written, an incredibly singular plot, and characters I’ll be thinking about for years.

The Safekeep by Yael Van Der Wouden - In post-WWII Netherlands, Isabel takes in Eva as a boarder and their relationship deepens in ways neither of them expected.

There’s suspense! Romance! Secrets! Plus, a perfect twist at the end.

Madwoman by Chelsea Bieker - Clove has reinvented her life as a devoted mom and wife to bury her traumatic past, but when a letter from a women’s prison drags her history back into her present, she must untangle her identity and the cycle of violence that shaped her.

Modern motherhood meets wellness culture meets childhood trauma—a real ride! I love Chelsea’s work, and this book ticked all my boxes when it comes to contemporary fiction—perhaps most importantly, an intimacy on the page that deeply connects you to the protagonist and her story.

Broken Country by Clare Leslie Hall - In a rural English village, Beth’s stable life is upended when her long-ago love Gabriel returns with his son, reigniting past passions and stirring dangerous secrets that lead to jealousy and deadly consequences.

A novel for novel lovers—perfectly plotted, great character development, and a love story (or two) to boot. CLH is a force.

The Bright Years by Sarah Damoff - Spanning four generations of the Bright family in Texas, this sweeping saga follows love, loss, addiction, and the hidden truths that shape a family’s legacy.

I loved the way Damoff broke her novel into several POVs, which made this book rife with nuance and detail. I missed the Bright family the second this was over—and am so excited for her sophomore novel coming out later this year.

I’ll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson - Twin siblings Jude and Noah, estranged after a tragedy, each grapple with love, art, and their shared past as they seek understanding and reconciliation.

This is the kind of novel that makes you so grateful that fiction exists in the world. Exquisite, unique writing, and emotions that fly off the page and into your heart—what more can you ask for from a book?

The Rachel Incident by Caroline O’Donoghue - Rachel’s bohemian life and deep friendships in Cork are upended when she falls for a married professor, leading to a year of love, chaos, secrets, and unforeseen moral complications.

I am SO glad I circled back to this book after missing it in 2023—O’Donoghue is a masterful storyteller. I implore every reader I know to add this one to the top of their TBR immediately.

Heart the Lover by Lily King - An unnamed narrator becomes entangled in a love triangle with her two, charismatic, intellectual male classmates during her senior year of college, with ripple effects carried over into the following decades.

Broken into three parts (college, post-college, midlife), this novel is a decades-spanning love story, chronicling all the ways that that love, and our selves, change as time marches on. The last third of this book was my favorite by far, as King shines a bright light on the regret, longing, and acceptance that accompany middle age.

Take My Hand by Dolen Perkins-Valdez - Based on a true story, Take My Hand follows Civil Townsend, a young Black nurse in Montgomery, Alabama in the 1970s who discovers the local family planning clinic is coercing poor, Black, and mentally challenged women into sterilization. Civil forges a relationship with two of the affected women, India and Erica Williams, fighting their injustice in ways big and small.

A fascinating snapshot of American history, beautifully rendered by Dolen Perkins-Valdez. I cheered for India, Erica and Civil every second of the way.

Tilt by Emma Pattee - After a devastating earthquake hits the Pacific Northwest, a very pregnant woman embarks on an epic journey to get back home in its wake.

I mean, that plot! Come on! So unique—I found it to be gripping in the way a thriller might be, while retaining the emotional heft of contemporary literature. I felt like I walked every grueling step alongside Annie, and would do it again in a heartbeat.

What Kind of Paradise by Janelle Brown - A coming-of-age psychological thriller about a teenage girl raised in isolation by her anti-technology father in the 1990s, who escapes to San Francisco to uncover her past.

A book that will give you so much to unpack: how we confront modern technology, good vs evil, if deception can ever be justified. This would make a great book club book. Looking forward to digging through Brown’s backlist.

And Now…All the Other Books I Read This Year!

The starred books are the ones I really enjoyed but didn’t make the Top 12.

1. *The Tell — Amy Griffin // Despite the post-pub controversy, I thought this was a gripping memoir and likely a lifeline for women who suffered similar abuse in silence.

2. *Did I Ever Tell You? — Genevieve Kingston // Such a thoughtful and meaningful memoir about daughterhood.

3. *This Is a Love Story — // This one really grew on me over the course of the book! Looking forward to more from Soffer. (I also love her newsletter, which just moved to Substack, that offers a writing prompt each Wednesday.)

4. The River’s Daughter — Bridget Crocker // Really compelling memoir and loved learning about life as a river guide.

5. Long Island — Colm Tóibín // I never read Brooklyn, but this one was just okay for me.

6. Dream Count — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie // I loved Americanah, so I was a little bummed at how meandering this felt, much too long with too many characters and subplots.

7. *How About Now — Kate Baer // This one, honestly, belongs in the Top 12. Just a beautiful book of poetry centering on motherhood, midlife and identity. I got to see Kate IRL at her book signing in November and she is the absolute real deal.

8. The Creative Act: A Way of Being — Rick Rubin // Liked this one, and highlighted a lot of points throughout. Many of Rubin’s thoughts may be cliches, but I love cliches, soooo.

9. *I Who Have Never Known Men — Jacqueline Harpman // This one almost made the Top 12 - haunting, suspenseful, singular. You won’t walk away from this one without some real thoughts.

10. Kate & Frida — Kim Fay // A long-distance friendship story that just didn’t hit the way I wanted it to.

11. *Such a Fun Age — Kiley Reid // I didn’t love Reid’s latest book, Come and Get It, but thought this one was super fun while also being a compelling discourse on race.

12. Atmosphere — Taylor Jenkins Reid // I liked it! It was good! I would recommend it! But I can’t say it was a standout for me.

13. The Turn of the Key — Ruth Ware // If you are a thriller fan, I think this was a good one. I would definitely try out more books by Ware in the future.

14. Mindset — Carol S. Dweck // Could have been an email.

15. *Cry When the Baby Cries — Becky Barnicoat // Also nearly made my Top 12. Barnicoat’s graphic novel is supremely hilarious, and will be incredibly resonant for all the moms out there. I laughed out loud and also cried several times. I even dedicated a newsletter to it!

16. *Wreck — Catherine Newman // Another near Top 12! Newman writes dialogue like no one else. I hope we get to meet Rocky again in her next novel.

17. How to Lose Your Mother — Molly Jong-Fast // Juicy memoir that I enjoyed despite not knowing of Molly or her mother!

18. The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating — Elisabeth Tova Bailey // I can’t remember how this one made its way into my ether but I kind of wish it hadn’t.

19. *Mailman — Steven Starring Grant // Loved this memoir of a marketing exec taking a job as a mailman to make ends meet after being laid off. Such a fascinating job - and will make you appreciate your mail carrier so much.

20. A Marriage at Sea — Sophie Elmhirst // This true-life story is truly incredible, but I sort of loathed the couple which ultimately impacted my view of the book overall.

21. *A Family Matter — Claire Lynch // Based on real events around UK’s anti-LGBTQ+ bias in the courts (specifically about awarding custody rights to a gay parent), I was both entertained and educated by this important work of fiction.

22. Heartwood — Amity Gaige // Flew through this and enjoyed it, but wanted more from the ending.

23. *James — Percival Everett // As wonderful as everyone says it is.

24. Dear Writer — Maggie Smith // Some really pertinent advice on the writing life, but focused a little more on poetry than I anticipated (which is probably my fault considering Maggie is primarily a poet!!)

25. *Actress of a Certain Age — Jeff Hiller // So, so funny—plus, a really honest inside look at what it means to be a struggling actor, and what it feels like to make your dreams come true in midlife.

26. Three Days in June — Anne Tyler // Just…okay.

27. *Night Watching — Tracy Sierra // I still remember the chills I got listening to this one, and of being grateful that this story was only in my ears during daylight hours! Eerie, to say the least—not for the scaredy cats!

28. The Life Impossible — Matt Haig // Adored The Midnight Library. This was…not that.

29. *The Motherload — Sarah Hoover // Once you get over the wealth and privilege Hoover enjoys (which she was VERY honest about, which I appreciated), I actually thought this was an important depiction of how grueling and painful early motherhood can be, and how so many women suffer in silence through deep postpartum depression and psychosis. Mostly, it made me wish we cared more about maternal mental health in this country!!

30. Martyr! — Kaveh Akbar // DNF’d this one at a little more than halfway through. Honestly, I think this is just a me problem, and that I picked it up at the wrong time. Would circle back to it someday.

Thank you for reading, ilysm!

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Worth Noting: This Week’s 10 Honorable Mentions

1. Are you, too, enraged by the unabashed lawlessness and general disregard of the United States constitution overtaking our country? Or maybe it’s the lack of accountability of masked men unleashing their toxic masculinity on fearful citizens who are trying to protect their neighbors? Then this iconic Melt the Ice sweatshirt via Emma Straub + Carson Ellis is for you!! 100% of all profits go to Stand with Minnesota and Unidos MN. Also, there’s something about a bookseller (who works to ensure her community is educated, well-read, and informed) and an artist (who works to inspire change, ignite creativity, and create joy) coming together to make something for good that tbh makes me want to weep with gratitude. Humanity, amirite?

2. And on that note, keep calling your senators.

3. ’s Spring 2026 Children’s Book Preview is so good!

4. The cutest v-day approved sneakers which I am truly upset are nearly sold out.

5. Strangely drawn to these floral Adidas x Liberty London track pants...

6. I used Pinterest’s collage feature to create a sort of moodboard for 2026, and wow was it satisfying! Now it lives as a wallpaper on my phone where I get to look at it everyday, and it 100% sparks joy. 10/10 recommend.

7. Trust me when I say these brown butter marshmallow crispy cookies are so good. My sister won a holiday cookie contest with them!

8. Speaking of my sister! She got me an Ember mug for Christmas—the gift of always hot coffee that keeps on giving to this constantly distracted mom.

9. Now seems like the exact right time to join a mail club.

10. “The Lanyard” by Billy Collins

The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.

No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.

I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.

She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light

and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.

Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth

that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.

Happy new year! Yes, still! Let’s wish each other a happy new year for as long as we can get away with it, basking in the lush annual window of renewal to our heart’s content.

Although the world continues to be an absolute dumpster fire as we enter Trump’s second year in office, I’m staying vigilant in trying to raise kind humans, spending as much time as possible on writing and creativity, and reminding myself that there is still joy to be found.

My birthday falls on December 31st, which means that the transition into a new year is twofold for me: I feel the restoration of both the calendar flip and the ushering in of another year I get to spend on this planet.

When I was 40, I wrote myself a letter to open on New Year’s Day the following year. I thought it was going to be so wonderful to read, to be reminded of all the things I had wanted to do and congratulate myself on their coming to fruition. But 40 was a hard year for me: I had a two-year-old and a four-year-old. I experienced a valley in my photography business and lost a lot of creative confidence. My dad faced health issues. I didn’t write much. I felt a little lost. Reading that letter felt like a sucker punch because none of those dreams came true. I vowed to never set myself up for that kind of failure again.

So here I am, embarking on this new year—without resolutions, no word of the year, no metrics or accomplishments to chase. My only true hope for this year is to make the time to pursue and engage with the things that inspire me, the things that contribute in some small way to goodness of the world, the things that make me feel connected to myself, my family, my community. Here are a few ways I think these things might come to being, while giving myself permission to amend them anytime.

Engaging with creativity in a small way everyday. I’m working on a novel (eep!), and at first I told myself I was going to commit to writing every single day. After a couple of weeks into 2026, I realized this is untenable for my current phase of life. So instead of scrapping the intention entirely, I shifted it to be simply engage with creativity every day. Today that’s writing this newsletter. Yesterday it was taking a 40 minute walk alone in the sunshine while I fleshed out some ideas. The day before that it was reading an inspiring book. Before that, a one-hour Zoom call where we all worked on our creative projects independently, together (thanks to the wonderful ! If you’re a writer or just want an hour of community accountability every week, come join!). Tomorrow it might be journaling or coloring with my four-year-old or writing a thousand words. Nothing has to look like what everyone else says it has to look like; we get to make our own rules.

Intentionally showing up for the people in my life. Basically: be a good friend (and daughter, sister, partner…). I have a lot of thoughts and ideas on this, and am planning to do a newsletter about it soon (or maybe another series this spring?!). But for now, it’s simply remembering that my relationships are what keep me grounded, grateful, and feeling loved—and they deserve thoughtful care.

Consuming content that nourishes me. I’m unsubscribing from lists and unfollowing accounts that leave me more depleted than energized. I’m trying to ask myself after reading or watching something, was that helpful? Inspiring? Regenerative? I would rather give my attention to fewer, more meaningful things than a lot of noise that I think I should be consuming.

Attending to my body. Exercise is crucial to my mental health (and my sleep!) and though I’m pretty consistent in getting some kind of cardio in 3-4 times a week, I’m working to balance that with more strength training and stretching. As I age, my body needs this. Drinking more water is, begrudgingly, also on the list.

And now, some New Year Inspiration from my favorite Substacks

• ’s piece, This Year Let’s Find What We Actually Like, feels like a foundational piece of what I’m after in 2026—leaning away from what others think is cool and leaning into the exploration of what resonates with me in a deeper way. I love how she broke it down into actionable steps, and explained how and why each part is important. I even printed this out like it’s 1998 and tucked it into my journal!

  Knowing (and following) what you find beautiful is a skill. When practiced deliberately, it becomes a kind of energetic coding—aligning your intuition, strengthening your boundaries, clarifying your values, and magnetizing what’s meant for you.

• A cooking bucket list! Deb over at has some ideas to get you started. I’m coming for you, homemade cinnamon rolls.

• If you’re wanting to journal more this year, I highly recommend . She’s also running a 30-day New Years journaling project (which I’m giving you permission to join, despite it being halfway through January—time is a construct!!!)

• You Have Everything You Need by at - a pep talk on not waiting until you’re ready. (See also from her: find clarity, take action.)

• I loved ’s newsletter on neuroaesthetics—the idea that looking at beautiful things (visual art and nature specifically) has a huge impact on our health. More beauty in 2026, please!

• The Vision Zine Set from Art Life Practice is expertly curated to help you create a vision board for the year, with creative exercises, a prompt card, beautiful collage papers, scissors, glue and a cute pouch for all the supplies. I love all of ALP’s thoughtful products, and this is no exception.

• continues to show up with vulnerability and downright joy in her newsletter, and I felt so much resonance with this idea from a recent issue. Be sure to read the whole post here.

  At 51, firmly ensconced in midlife, I’m coming to believe that happiness is a combination of enough self-awareness to accept your unique limitations (and strengths), balanced with a healthy curiosity and drive to improve. Self-acceptance and continuous improvement may seem at odds, but I repeatedly notice this truth in my life. This kind of acceptance isn’t resignation, it’s reality. It frees up enormous amounts of energy I’d previously spent on self-criticism, allowing me to focus on improving aspects of myself that are both possible and meaningful.

• When Does It Feel Like Your Soul Matters? by . Olivia never ceases to get my brain spinning in the best way; I want to do more of this kind of mind-meandering this year. (PS - be sure to preorder her new book, Little One, out Feb. 3! I snagged a signed copy and you can too!)

• I came across ’s beautiful newsletter in early 2025, and then by happenstance I found her book, Start Where You Are: A Journal for Self-Exploration, at our library sale at the end of the year. I’m focused on some excavation work this year—just cracked How to Manifest by Lacy Phillips, and have been slowly working through the Choosing Wholeness Over Goodness workbook by Elise Loehnen and Courtney Smith—and am now adding Meera’s book into the fold. She also has a new book, Learn to Let Go: A Journal for New Beginnings.

• Thinking about starting 31 Days of Creative Resilience via in February or March! Such a neat and inspiring challenge.

• I appreciated ’s nudge to examine our January desire to optimize what we might view as a nascent self, when really this time of year is, as it always is, a continuation of the existing self. In January and the Myth of Starting Over, she writes:

  I don’t reject ambition, or the desire to improve, to grow, to want more from a life. And I certainly understand the persuasive pull of a new calendar year with no mistakes in it yet. But the pressure to optimize—to treat every pause as preparation, every lull as a failure of discipline—can feel relentless. The between days, the välipäivät, ask us to believe in an us then and an us now. What if, instead, it’s just us—the everyday us—and the slow work of building upon that is until we run out of road. Until death, it’s all life. And that life, the truth of it, the continuation of it, is messier and more honest than any story we tell ourselves about starting over.

Worth Noting: This Week’s 10 Honorable Mentions

1. A great song with January vibes: Feeling Fine by Ocie Elliott.

2. The ladies over at just opened an IRL community space in the Hudson Valley, complete with a co-working area for moms and childcare for their kids! It’s such a brilliant and needed endeavor, and I can only imagine how thoughtful the execution is going to be. Upstate New York fams, please join so I can live vicariously through you.

3. Now that the Golden Globes are behind us, it is officially Oscar season! I’m currently reading Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell before I see the film, and I’m excited to watch this movie in a tiny local theater nearby—both of which are likely to see a lot of nominations.

4. While Everything Else Was Falling Apart by Ada Limón

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   In the Union Square subway station nearly fifteen

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   years ago now, the L train came clanking by

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   where someone had fat-Sharpied a black heart

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   on the yellow pillar you leaned on during a bleak day

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   (brittle and no notes from anyone you crushed upon).

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   Above ground, the spring sun was the saddest one

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   (doing work, but also none). What were you wearing?

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   Something hopeful to show the world you hoped?

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   A tall man was learning from a vendor how to pronounce

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   churro. High in the sticky clouds of time, he kept

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   repeating churro while eating a churro. How to say

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   this made you want to live? No hand to hold

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   still here it was: someone giving someone comfort

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   and someone memorizing hard how to ask for it again.

5. I just started reading ’s new book, No One You Know, a dual POV story about a mother and her teenage daughter. Touted as a novel on “how to love someone when you know you’ll lose them” (with the word loss, in its many forms), is absolutely up my alley and I’m eager to keep turning the pages.

6. Chef Thomas Keller teamed up with olive oil producer Armando Manni to create these amazing chocolate bars—I got the peppermint, but am on the hunt for the Yuzu and Truffle Fries flavors next. They stock at a lot of shops across the country, delightfully.

7. If you’re a Peloton member, I always love Christine D’Ercole’s reflection rides—I listen to them all year, though I find them especially resonant this time of year.

8. My friend of just started selling prints of his beautiful photography, launching with a set of coastal shots in Big Sur—high quality matte printing and a range of sizes. Begging him to come take some shots of the Sonoma Coast!

9. Queuing up Bustle’s new podcast, One Nightstand, where celebs chat about the books they’re reading. SJP talking about her favorite reads feels like a slice of heaven to me.

10. Just ordered A History of Holding: Poems on Motherhood by . The cover is stunning, and I know her words will be, too.

    ---

Coming up at the end of the month: A review of the books I read in 2025! So many great ones, I can’t wait to share.

Thank you for reading, ilysm!

Here are a couple easy ways to show your support for this lil ol’ newsletter:

• Give this issue a like or share below—it really helps other readers find this newsletter. 💛

• Subscribe so you don’t miss an issue!

Share

Subscribe now

Thanks to all for joining the conversation! 💛

It’s 2:15pm and I’m 30 minutes out from school pickup. I’m staring at the blank screen in front of me, willing my brain to communicate with my fingers and type a single sentence, a word even. Nothing comes. I close my laptop, telling myself that maybe tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow is not different.

I sort of hate the term mom brain. It’s usually used in the patronizing context of forgetting a random word or misplacing car keys. Silly mommy! What it doesn’t acknowledge is the loss of our minds in motherhood. Since I became a mother, I find it painfully difficult to access the deep crevices of my intellect, as if birthing two children not only excavated their bodies from mine but my mind as well—my capacity to form meaningful thought now lodged beneath their tiny fingernails, dogeared in the folds of their squishy thighs, coiled around soft, tinseled strands of hair. That, or the vacuum assist required for my son’s retrieval sucked it into the ether, lingering forever in Delivery Room 501A.

Creativity requires embodiment but also deep, critical thought. It demands not only the emotional and physical space devoid of noise and distraction, but also a sort of spiritual attunement to the frequency of the muse. Yes, it’s a butt in the chair (every writing book says so)—but that means nothing when my mind can no longer channel a thought outside of the banality of what am I making for dinner tonight?

I wake up every morning craving epiphany and insight. Often I can feel them, just outside the bedroom door—a knowing that something is waiting for me and only me, less a dark shadow of doom and more a warm amorphous glow of possibility. But too soon I swing my legs over the side of the bed to greet bleary-eyed littles already asking after breakfast, if it’s going to rain today. The light flees the scene.

It’s a weird phenomenon when you desire something so greatly that continues to ghost you in the same way a flighty, unbothered lover would—me, reaching out desperately for a scrap of acknowledgment: over here, pick me! This feels urgent in midlife, convinced time is slipping away, and there’s still so much I want to write, to ponder, to deduce. Maybe worst of all—and I think about this a lot—this version of my life (and myself) is ripe with a distinct meaning unique to the present moment, but will evaporate before I can wrangle it into cohesion. I exhale at dawn into the cold morning air and watch my breath dissipate before I’m able to trace its outlines, glean its revelation.

We often talk about how moms “find the time” to pursue creative work, but for me—with two children now in elementary school—time isn’t the crux of the issue anymore. I have a fair amount of time, even after factoring in my part time professional work and accounting for my role as the primary homemaker and caretaker (still a huge load, but with mostly reliable pockets of “free” time). Of course I can, and have, cobbled ideas together. But those pieces of writing that I look back on and am immensely proud of—the ones whose words I wrestled with, gnashed my teeth at—those are what I’m after. I love a list and a roundup as much as the next girl, but I’m on the prowl for something with more grittiness, a thesis that requires the piercing of a sandpapered epidermis to run curious fingers over the smooth layers of fresh skin underneath. I write to figure out what I believe, what moves me, what I want, what I need, and finally to turn those ideas into something that invites the reader into a tango with their own lost mind.

I thought the denouement of this essay might be something so sweet that your teeth start to wear sweaters after reading it, like my kids are my muse and I simply have to look into their cherub faces and the words flow from my veins into paragraphs, profound ideas leap forth to dazzle friends at happy hour. Unfortunately, that would only be a half-truth, a quarter-truth really. My kids, and motherhood at large, are certainly a cornerstone of my creative world, but so is identity and love and friendship and grief and longing and a million other things. Their wonder, curiosity and first-time-ever experiences tip me onto the plane of excavation but it’s my mind that must pick up the spade and dig.

The unfortunate truth is that I, and anyone struggling with the loss of a former mind, have to forge a desire to shape a new mind, a desire to learn a new person. It requires a kind of awareness that, not unironically, requires presence in one of the busiest seasons of life. There’s a stripping away of distraction, yes, but there’s also something needed beyond self-imposed limits: a conviction to meet this stranger self, and to take the steps to reach her.

This midlife, postpartum transition isn’t dissimilar to childhood, a period in which change is omnipresent, never not happening. My four-year-old’s favorite color changes by the hour, her likes and dislikes by the day. She follows the breadcrumbs of the things that delight her, move her, deliver her closer to a self she’s building from scratch. In watching her becoming, it feels as if there’s no possibility of this loss of mind in motherhood being happenstance but an urgent call to whittle away the rusted bits of a former self in the same way my baby does—an act devoid of cognition, but rife with knowing.

Looking back, I think I may have lost my mind many times over: in my teens as I transitioned from child to adult, and perhaps again in my late 20s when I shed a scattered self for a steadier one. I can see in the rearview mirror a trail of my thoughts and dreams, some with broken bits that I’m eager to discard and others I’d consider circling the block to retrieve, tchotchkes too precious to toss and memories too central to the puzzle of this singular life. The mind may be lost, but the imprint of it remains. Maybe the meaning lingers even if the vessel through which that meaning was made has vanished, in the same way the soul floats on after the body has taken its final breath.

I know my mind is lost for good; it can’t be retrieved. That mind belongs to someone, something, elsewhere. My new mind is being remade in motherhood, in midlife, in the warmth and fortitude of longterm love. This mind is seeking, meeting a new self, yet again. This mind is determined to place itself in the way of novelty and beauty and awe so that one day, when I’m least expecting it, I’ll be called to create. I’ll write something from somewhere that hadn’t previously existed, and when reading the words aloud, back to myself—brought to the edge of tears with a truth I’ve been searching for, a withered hope of its discovery—I’ll know I’ve been found.

A Few Things I’m Doing (or Trying to Do) to Meet the Mind

• Reading as much as possible. Poetry, non-fiction, fiction (ideally all three)—even just a line or two each day gives me a wider view of the world and my place in it.

• Going for a walk, or preferably a run. It doesn’t have to be long, or fast, but being outdoors in motion is one of the few ways I’m able to hear my own thoughts.

• Putting down the checklist. I’m a mom, which is to say I am constantly spinning plates. But when I pause the doing I’m able to notice what’s going on, inside and out.

• Journaling. I’m not as consistent at this as I would like, but it makes a big difference when I make it a priority.

• Sleeping. I don’t mess around with sleep hygiene often but when I do, my capacity to expand my thinking diminishes greatly (shocker).

• Doing something new. Window shopping in a far-away or new-to-me neighborhood, attending an event, going to a reading, trying a friend’s cherished hobby, listening to an unfamiliar band.

• Seeking creativity. Putting myself in the way of people doing amazing things with their creative minds never ceases to knock inspiration loose in me. As simple as browsing Pinterest or watching a 60-second watercolor how-to video to listening to an author interview or visiting a museum exhibit—it all counts.

Worth Noting: 10 Things Worth Mentioning

• Growing up & Leaning In by

• Something for everyone on this list of 10 Cozy Fall Cocktails.

• A Manifesto for Midlife Happiness is such a thoughtful piece from .

• A Goodnight Moon writing kit from the USPS! Cute! via .

• Cut glass candleholders, omg.

• Tracking an Inciardi vending machine down will be at the top of my to-do list on my next NYC trip (along with visiting this pickle bookstore?!), but I was delighted when tipped me off to their very cute online print collection (which, in hindsight, probably existed long before the viral vending!)

• Did you know that World Market stocks Sockerbit? I was delighted by the Holiday Mix, which includes both sweet and sour candy.

• This very good oversized henley sweater I have lurking in my screenshots.

• Have you read North Woods? It kept popping up everywhere for me, so I snagged a copy at a recent library book sale. The reviews are incredible.

• Cats & Boxes: The perfect game to gift my kiddos in honor of the kitten we adopted this fall!

In 2015, I had recently moved back to California from New York and was ready for the next chapter of my life. My husband and I were months away from our wedding, and we were hopeful that a family wasn’t far off after that. After seven years away, I was eager to invest in building a life here—nurturing old friendships, fostering new communities, and finding a rhythm in the wake of a chaotic, albeit incredibly fun, decade.

I’ve known my friend Lindy since we were five years old, which made ours a 25-year friendship at the time. Lindy is one of the most special types of friends: generous in spirit, endlessly hopeful for the world, and a connector of people. I feel as if a tiny part of the fabric of who I am as a person was woven by my relationship with her. So of course it was Lindy who asked if I would want to join a book club she was putting together—of women who I had never met. It was an immediate yes.

The book club consisted of five members, including Lindy and me. Faye (a friend of Lindy’s), Bethany (Faye’s friend) and Hayley (Lindy’s colleague - Lindy, a Religion teacher and Hayley, English) rounded out the group.

I wish I could recall the exact moment we met, but the truth is I can’t remember a time when these women weren’t dear friends. With every meeting, we got a little bit closer. We’ve gathered at each other’s houses, a million restaurants, bars and breweries. Most summers, we’ve taken a weekend getaway together; this year’s, to a little bungalow on the Russian River—including book pong to decide our fall reads!—was unforgettable.

We have been through truly everything together: eight babies, multiple job losses and career shifts, many moves, the heartbreak of lost pets and the joy of new pets. We’ve walked beside each other through the valleys of marriage and the challenges of motherhood, the deaths and declines of aging parents. We’ve witnessed each other without judgment and with immense care. Dozens and dozens of books offered a backdrop to these milestones—literary milemarkers posted along the way. While we turned the pages of our books, we were writing the stories of our own lives, side by side.

This year we celebrated 10 years of our book club—a huge feat in making this monthly commitment a priority in light of our busy lives. Our book club has been a cornerstone of my life over the last decade, and has changed me in many ways. If you’re considering joining or starting a book club my advice is do it. You will not regret it. And if you do begin one, here are just a few things that I think could be helpful in forming a club that lasts.

1. Keep it small. I see book clubs that have 10+ members and I have no idea how they coordinate schedules, facilitate a meaningful discussion, or get to really know each other. 4-6 people feels like the perfect amount of people to ensure consistent attendance, encourage meaningful and inclusive discussion, and foster intimate friendships.

2. Plan ahead. We’ve started planning our meetings out 3-6 months ahead—both the dates and the books. This has been really helpful to get on everyone’s calendars early and having books queued up ensures that we have a variety of genres. This also allows everyone to read at their own pace and with a longer runway. Sometimes we have to move things around, but mostly it sticks because we’ve planned for it.

3. Read with an open mind. One of things I love about our book club is that we read across all genres. If someone picks a book that may not be your usual fare, read it with an open mind. Bethany is a historian so we’ve gotten to read some really thoughtful non-fiction and historical fiction because of her. Lindy and Faye both read widely, contributing a smattering of romance, thrillers, and backlist books. Hayley is for sure our resident literary fiction and classics contributor. I’m the most likely to throw a memoir into the mix, along with some buzzy, contemporary fiction. Some of the books I’ve enjoyed the most were ones I would never have selected on my own.

4. Commit wholeheartedly. This one is huge: if you join or start a book club, make it a non-negotiable. Show up—even if you haven’t read the book. It happens, and we give each other plenty of grace, though we have really high completion rates because this club is important to us!

5. Discuss the book—and also, don’t discuss the book. We make it a point to always discuss the book (this is a book club after all!) but the amount of time varies in length, usually due to how compelling the book was or if there is a wide spread of opinions on it. But our love of books is only a part of our connection, spending the rest of our time together catching up, listening, and laughing. Building connections outside of books is actually the thing that will make you want to return to book club month after month.

So, what were our favorites?

I asked Lindy, Bethany, Hayley and Faye what their favorites books were from the past 10 years, and why. It was so fun to hear what resonated with them the most!

Faye had a handful that stuck out to her:

A Man Called Ove simply because he is a great author and has a way of explaining people’s deepest nuances in a gentle way. I will now read anything by him. A Little Life was such a haunting, painful and beautiful book. The Midnight Library because it brings such beauty to the everyday lives we inhabit. East of Eden was just a great story.

Beyond what we have read together, there are so many books I have read (and have on my tbr) due to recommendations and encouragement from someone in the group. Everything from historical non-fiction to lighthearted romantic comedies, they are all fair game. And also, I don’t think our group has ever vilified any particular genre, all books are welcome for consideration.

Bethany picked a classic, and contemporary historical fiction:

East of Eden and The Women were favorites of mine. Also let’s not forget our Covid zooms! Pretty incredible we are still going strong 💛

Hayley loved a group favorite *and* a group flop!

A Little Life was my favorite because wow it’s just one of those books that’s so devastating it cracks you open. It’s such a testimony to the power of friendship.

And NOBODY liked this book but I really liked The Buried Giant by Ishiguro! Still think about the book because it’s so mystical and the husband and wife were all messed up but loved each other so much, even when they lost their memories. So moving. I liked that it grappled with what endures and what we lose as we age and then die. Whomp whomp.

Three books were at the top of Lindy’s list:

A Man Called Ove stands out to me (I still show the film to my students), and I remember early on talking about Me Before You and Text Me When You Get Home which were incredibly memorable. I’d say sometimes my favorite books didn’t always lead to my favorite discussions. [Christy: totally agree—sometimes the conversations that stayed with me the most were about books I didn’t love; those books opened up so much more to me once we discussed them.)

As for me: I’ve loved so many. A Little Life is at the top of my list, for the reasons mentioned by the others above. The Girls by Emma Cline, Educated by Tara Westover, Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir. Below is a list of the books we’ve read over the years (or at least all the ones we could cobble together from our various records—thanks for the assist, Lindy!). I’ve starred the ones that stand out to me the most.

A mostly-complete list of books from the past decade of book club:

• Me Before You by Jojo Moyes

• Prague Winter by Madeleine Albright

• East of Eden by John Steinbeck

• All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

• My Life in France by Julia Child

• The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins

• Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

• In the Unlikely Event by Judy Blume

• My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante

• The Royal We by Heather Cocks

• The Buried Giant by Kazuo Ishiguro

• Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates

• A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara*

• Eligible by Curtis Sittenfeld

• The Girls by Emma Cline*

• First Women by Kate Anderson Brower

• Prairie Fires by Caroline Fraser

• Brooklyn by Colm Toibin

• Commonwealth by Ann Patchett

• The Invention of Wings by Sue Monk Kidd*

• Lab Girl by Hope Jahren

• A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman*

• Talking as Fast as I Can by Lauren Graham

• Men Explain Things to Me by Rebecca Solnit

• My Name Is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout

• Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman*

• The Rainbow Comes and Goes by Anderson Cooper and Gloria Vanderbilt

• Text Me When You Get Home by Kayleen Schaefer*

• The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead*

• The Power by Naomi Alderman

• Fight No More by Lydia Millet

• Hillbilly Elegy by J.D. Vance

• Educated by Tara Westover*

• A Place for Us by Fatima Farheen Mirza*

• Becoming by Michelle Obama

• City of Girls by Elizabeth Gilbert*

• Conversations with Friends by Sally Rooney

• Designing Your Life by Bill Burnett and Dave Evans

• The Midnight Library by Matt Haig*

• Malibu Rising by Taylor Jenkins Reid*

• Her Last Flight by Beatriz Williams*

• The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires by Grady Hendrix

• In Five Years by Rebecca Serle

• Beautiful Little Fools by Jillian Cantor*

• Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin*

• Code Girls by Liza Mundi

• Solito by Javier Zamora*

• The Celebrants by Steven Rowley

• From Strength to Strength by Arthur C. Brooks

• The Maid by Nita Prose

• The Christmas Orphans Club by *

• Anxious People by Fredrik Backman

• The In-Between by Hadley Vlahos*

• The Women by Kristin Hannah*

• The Sicilian Inheritance by *

• The Lincoln Highway by Amor Towles

• Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir*

• The God of the Woods by Liz Moore*

• The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store by James McBride

• The Creative Act by Rick Rubin

• The Life Impossible by Matt Haig

• Did I Ever Tell You? by Genevieve Kingston*

• Long Island by Colm Toibin

• The Turn of the Key by Ruth Ware

• James by Percival Everett

• Kate & Frida by Kim Fay

• Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid*

More book-related reading right this way:

I can’t remember exactly when I first heard, or felt resonance with, the concept of cringe—an idea first associated with that feeling we get when we look back at something our past selves did, or said, or wore, or whatever that makes us feel shame or regret. Later, it became recognized as something we experience vicariously in witnessing another’s seemingly abhorrent behavior, an acutely-felt secondhand embarrassment.

Most recently, the phenomenon has morphed into a sensation once again channeled inward, but in real time instead of hindsight. We try on a dress, look in the mirror and become consumed with cringe, a pre-emptive shame before anyone else has a chance to project it onto us. In quick succession, maybe even subconsciously, our brain runs through the things we imagine everyone saying about us, behind our backs, in the comments section, under their breath: you’re an imposter, a phony, a wannabe, delusional, boring, too much, not enough—swirling the drain with imagined insults and hurtful labels. We cringe at the idea of being cringe for fear of judgment or covert ridicule or maybe most urgently, of being quietly ousted from our social safety nets.

When I became a mom, I joined—intentionally and circumstantially—a member of various groups of moms. There were the baby groups and then the preschool groups, all united by the singular fact that we had children. Being part of these communities has always been deeply important to me; I want to be in the company of women with shared experiences—the fears that keep me up at night, the worries that riddle me with anxiety, the joys and heartbreak of watching babies grow into kids.

With two children now in elementary school, I’ve joined yet another group of moms, this one taking on a new heft, years of shared experience ahead of us in our grade school community. You would think at 41 years old I would have a more unshakeable confidence in myself but the truth is I feel more insecure than ever. I worry about saying the wrong thing or offending someone, about being too involved and not involved enough, about stepping on toes of the tenured moms, of rocking the boat and being made to walk the proverbial playground plank. I take notes on what these women wear to drop-off (how many days in a row is it acceptable for me to show up in an old sweatshirt and dry shampoo?). I analyze cliques and overheard asides in the hallways. I wonder where I fit in and hope it’s both everywhere and no where; I yearn to be a chameleon, not unlike the sixth graders I pass walking from classroom to classroom.

Last week I attended a workshop with —author of On Our Best Behavior—where we talked about the stories we (women) tell ourselves about who we are. We started with a partner exercise where one person acts as the question-asker: “Tell me a fact about yourself.” The person states the fact, and the question-asker follows up: “What’s the story you tell yourself about that fact?” After the exercise and back amongst the larger group, we recounted how many absolutely bonkers stories we tell ourselves about the facts of our lives (“My partner is the breadwinner and therefore their time is more valuable than mine”) but the other curiosity that surfaced was how hard it was for women to even come up with facts about themselves—and those they did state often were more centrally about someone else (“I have a son who plays baseball”). This made me wonder two things: 1) Are we shy about stating facts about ourselves aloud because we think they might be cringe, or 2) Have we become so consumed with not being cringe that we’ve diminished our personalities to a set of attributes, hobbies, clothing so banal that they barely track as noteworthy?

There’s a sweeping rhetoric going around that in the proliferation of sharing and recommending things on the internet, we’ve created a monolithic population that wears/does/says/likes all the same things. Developing personal taste has become elusive because we’re constantly bombarded by everyone else’s tastes, adopting them as our own—either because it’s easier than taking the time and energy to craft something true to ourselves, or because we know that this ubiquitous identity will be welcomed unopposed. After all, you can’t be cringe if everyone is cringe.

What’s harder to adopt—or maybe more aptly, more painful to adopt—is someone else’s deepest desires: creative passions, private yearnings, hopes for our own unique legacy. Because these ideas are central to our identity, we can’t just latch on to the mob here; we’re forced to reckon with the cringe of our own longings. The problem, though, is that instead of pushing through our reckoning with cringe and doing the things that we desire anyways, we stuff them down and let them wither away, a slow death of unintegrated cringe.

I thought I was brave in my 20s. I was always meeting new people, going new places. I moved across the country with two suitcases, no job, and a few thousand bucks to my name. I was who I wanted to be, mostly at least, on any given day. And it was bravery, to some extent, but it was also that I had less to lose. Young, single, and just starting my career, taking risks was, well, less risky. Being or doing something cringe didn’t feel that daring because on the other side of that potential failure or embarrassment was simply starting again. I could reinvent myself over and over again in rapid succession because I had only just begun tinkering at the design. Youth in all of its naivety was incredibly forgiving.

Now in midlife, taking risks feels momentous. I’m a mom and a wife, and I have four decades of experience behind me. Allowing myself to be cringe can feel like a betrayal of the roles I’ve acquired. She’s wearing what? Doesn’t she have kids? I hear them saying. She thinks she can start that now? Isn’t she a little old? Our acute awareness of age and identity mar our ability to follow our hunger, to tap into our intuition. We attach ourselves to our labels and the unrealistic conviction that we should have it all figured out by now and don’t dare to take a risk, try the new thing, excavate a deep calling, unearth a truer self; it would be so cringe to be nearly halfway through life and be seen, god forbid, trying.

The original definition of cringe is “to bend one’s head or body in fear or in a servile manner.” When we perceive ourselves to be cringe—actively or premptively—we are consumed with that fearful feeling, serving the real or anticipated gaze of another. Loehnen’s book is centered around the thesis that the seven deadly sins form a sort of lens through which we can analyze the ways women contort themselves in order to be perceived as “good” by the world. I don’t think cringe is an extension of these sins exactly, but it does evoke a similar fear-based manipulation of self to fit into our prescribed roles in the same ways that our aversion to sloth (laziness), greed, gluttony, lust, wrath (anger), and pride (hubris) do. In the same way we may talk ourselves out of taking a career sabbatical for fear of being seen as lazy, we may similarly talk ourselves out of going back to school or starting a business for fear of being seen as cringe.

In midlife, we’re deep into our hero’s journey. We’ve received, refused and accepted our call to adventure, we’ve tried and failed, we’ve met enemies and allies, gained new skills, and encountered our first success (followed, likely, by several other failures and successes). But now comes the most crucial part of the journey: the grand trial, where revelation and insight are found, when we begin to truly discard an old self in favor of realizing the person we were meant to be. This stage is a prime dwelling for cringe because it requires us to say aloud: I’ve done so much, and know so little. It’s humbleness when we feel like we should have it all figured out by now—an audacious, painful, and daunting admission to make to ourselves, and the world.

Of course, the journey ends once the hero has accepted the calling, stepping into the final challenge that’s been awaiting—that is, embodying the true self—while staring squarely in the face of cringe. It’s the internal shame of having taken half a life to get here and the external acknowledgement of a radical shift in personhood that may upend the status quo. But because the urgency of this shift feels undeniable in midlife, the discomfort softens, a deep knowing surfaces, and the cringe begins to dissipate. You realize suddenly, finally, that nothing matters if your own wholeness is forsaken for the comfort of everyone else—an unrecoverable betrayal of self.

Now, when I’m walking the campus of my kids’ school and feel those insecurities arise, I call myself back to my hero’s journey, and I can feel tiny shifts inside. I may still be decades from an arrival, but I’m heading in the right direction, cringe still lodged in the nooks of my backpack, but no longer weighing me down. I can trust that those meant to walk alongside me are on their own hero’s journey, carrying their own brand of cringe, and won’t falter in the face of my unexpected dreams or unconventional desires. And to those who do, I’ll ask, kindly, to let me pass along the shoulder of the road. I can walk myself home.

• My dream fall uniform: these moccasin boat shoes (or this very fun dusty rose pair), this snap-up fleece, and these embroidered barrel jeans (which come in a bunch of different colors/washes).

• How to Include Kids without Centering Them by of - Priya’s husband came up with a really neat idea for including their kids in more adult-oriented events: get them asking questions. Not only does it give them something to do so you can have a few minutes of conversation with friends, but it teaches them how to talk to grown-ups with ease. (h/t to my bestie Sara for sending this to me!)

• I’m on the hunt for a dupe of the Freda Salvador woven flats; these silver ones, this chocolate brown suede version, and this red basket weave pair all fit the bill.

• Questions to ask yourself this fall from .

• Iris Bakker’s blind drawings—or “presence portraits”—are so special.

• A very helpful and servicey roundup for new/expectant moms via

Mother, etc.

Issue #8: I Own Too Many Baby Carriers... Here’s My Honest Review of the 10 Most Popular Ones

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a year ago · 96 likes · 12 comments · Jules Acree

• An autumn watercolor workbook! (lots of other themes/seasons available too)

• Never not coveting a trench coat: the classic Sezane version is perfect, but this Madewell double-breasted plaid number is speaking to me too.

• The Day Our Government Told Mothers They Caused Their Children’s Autism via .

• If you’re looking for a thriller, I really enjoyed The Girlfriend on Amazon Prime.

I’ve also asked a few of my book-loving Substackers to share the books they’re excited about this season—which incited my TBR to swell even more. So thrilled to have these women contribute; I’m incredibly grateful to be in community with them.

And if you missed my Summer Book Preview, be sure to check that out for another 10 books on the same themes (there are some really good ones in there!)

The Wilderness by Angela Flournoy

Beginning in the early aughts and spanning two decades in LA and New York, The Wilderness follows the friendships between five Black women as they navigate the winding, unpredictable years between young adulthood and midlife. Amidst motherhood, marriage, familial feuds, careers thriving and faltering, their lives are in constant motion, begging the question can their friendships survive the rollercoaster of life? Available now.

Heart the Lover by Lily King

I adored King’s 2020 novel Writers & Lovers, as well as her book of short stories Five Tuesdays in Winter, and have eagerly been awaiting a new release. Her latest novel begins as three college seniors develop a bit of a love triangle, leading to a fallout between them. Decades later, the past is reignited, inciting a reckoning of love lost, shattered friendships, and the power of forgiveness. Grab the tissues—this one is sure to be a book with all the feels. Coming Oct. 7.

How About Now by Kate Baer

The motherhood/womanhood/friendship trifecta wouldn’t be complete without the work of the inimitable poet , and her newest book of poetry arrives just in time for cozy season. Her books grow right alongside her, this release focusing on aging, watching kids grow into adults, and the ride of midlife. Out Nov. 4.

All the Way to the River by Elizabeth Gilbert

If you’re a person on the internet, you likely have heard a lot about Gilbert’s memoir on the relationship with her best friend and partner, the late Rayaa Elias. I’m trying to go into it not knowing too much, but what I do know is that there is a lot of chaos, drug use, and bad behavior as Gilbert navigates the intense love affair while Elias faces the end of her life after a battle with cancer. It’s sure to be a doozy, and one of those books that you have to read so you can know what everyone is talking about. I’ll be listening to this one on audio so I can hear Gilbert recount the story in her own voice. Available now.

Art Work: On the Creative Life by Sally Mann

I’ve known only peripherally of Sally Mann and her work, recently reoriented when I read the piece in the New York Times this month titled “The Cost of Performing Childhood for Your Parent’s Art.” It takes a deep dive into the worlds of artists, writers, and other creatives who use their children, or their relationships with their children, as fodder for their art, which includes Sally Mann (who is largely known for her very candid photographs of her children). I found it really interesting, prodding me to think critically about the writing I do as a mother. Mann’s new book doesn’t focus on this theme overtly, but I’m curious to learn more about her process of making art as a mother, which seems to be a messy melange of satiating the muse while trying not to objectify or exploit the child. A compilation of essays, photographs, journal entries and letters, there’s sure to be a lot of food for thought throughout this book. Available now.

To the Moon and Back by Eliana Ramage

Steph Harper is determined to get to the moon—and to be the first Indigenous woman to do so. But despite her ambition, her past trails behind her, filled with secrets, loneliness and uncertainty. As she barrels towards her dreams with fervor, the bonds she shares with the women closest to her—her mother, sister, and college girlfriend—begin to unfurl, each of them searching for their place in the world, and with each other. Available now.

The Academy by Elin Hilderbrand and Shelby Cunningham

A confession: I’ve actually never read an Elin Hilderbrand book. I know! I’ve had intentions to, but then some new lit fic book grabs my attention and Elin gets pushed to the backburner. That said, her new book co-written by her daughter felt like it needed a place on this list—especially because it’s an academic thriller set at a New England boarding school. The fall vibes are here. There’s a hot young teacher, an international teen influencer, a misfit transfer student—and of course, they all have something to hide. Available now.

The Eternal Forest by Elena Sheppard

The story begins in 1950s Cuba when ’s grandparents flee the island to Florida in order to escape Fidel Castro’s reign, certain they’ll be back within months—only to never return. Sheppard—the first of her family to be born in the United States—invokes cultural myth, historical text and personal narrative to tell her family’s story, often centered around the women of Cuba, as well as that of the Cuban Revolution at large. I can’t wait to read this one, certain to be a gripping, emotional memoir and fascinating history lesson in one. Out Sept. 30.

Workhorse by Caroline Palmer

The plot of this one is extremely up my alley: “A richly drawn, unsettling, and wickedly funny story of envy and ambition set against the glamor and privilege of media and high society in New York City at its height.” I started my career in the early aughts in New York, desperate to join the editorial team of a magazine, consumed by thoughts of riding the Condé elevator alongside Anna Wintour or spinning through the revolving doors of Hearst tower everyday. That dream dried up quickly (RIP literally all print magazines), but I will forever be enamored with that era of NYC—and will gladly accompany our protagonist, Clo, as she navigates the publishing world of yore. Out Oct. 14.

Are You Mad at Me? by Meg Josephson

In an era of constant comparison and digital yard sticks to measure our worth, this non-fiction pick with the subtitle “How to Stop Focusing on What Others Think and Start Living for You” feels…very necessary. Psychotherapist dissects people-pleasing tendencies, offers guidance on boundaries and conflict, and encourages introspection on overachieving, perfectionism, avoiding emotions, and other patterns that we—and especially women—are often consumed by. Available now.

—writer of her wonderful newsletter , podcast host of Bad on Paper with , and author of Such a Bad Influence (loved) and forthcoming Little One (available for preorder now!)—is no stranger to great books. We have very similar reading tastes, so I was instantly sold by her pick:

I don't think I've ever read a book faster than Tilt by Emma Pattee. The story follows a 37-week pregnant woman who is in the middle of an IKEA when a massive earthquake hits. Her journey to safety is heart-pounding, emotional, and terrifying. It is one of the most thrilling books I've ever read, and the writing about womanhood and motherhood is spectacular. I tell everyone I know to read this book. It's read-in-one-sitting good. Available now.

I learned about of from the very thoughtful ladies of , and in their interview with her; Kaitlyn is a psychotherapist and writes about her work in the context of various themes like motherhood, pop culture, and more—her writing both accessible and revelatory at once. I asked her what book was on her radar this fall, and this is what she had to say:

My fall pick is The Heartbreak Hotel by . I must start by acknowledging I know Ellen personally and the main character is in the mental health field like me. Ergo, it's possible I'm a bit biased about how great this book is. (Maybe not too biased as it was also one of the Book of the Month Club picks for September).

Now that we got that out of the way, welcome to the Comeback Inn. A house converted into a vacation rental for the brokenhearted. It's run by our FMC, Louisa, who is recently brokenhearted herself. In order to pull this off she will need help from her best friend and permission from her landlord. As fate would have it, this landlord is the town vet, sexy and mysterious in all the ways that aren't toxic. For me, the books I lose myself in have to be full of characters that feel like real human beings. Ones that are just trying (and fumbling) to figure out how to engage with life without losing oneself. The Heartbreak Hotel is all that and more. It's a perfect fall read, set in Northern Colorado, about how we come back to ourselves and our hearts even when they are battered up and bruised. Out Sept. 23.

When I selected The Eternal Forest for this book preview, I thought the author, —who also writes the Substack which is always full of interesting books, author interviews and more—might have a great recommendation from her own fall reading list. Here’s what’s on her nightstand this season:

One book I can't wait to read this fall is Sasha Bonét's The Waterbearers: A Memoir of Mothers and Daughters. From what I've read, it tells the story of this country through three generations of Black mothers—which immediately interested me as the book I have coming out this fall is also told through three generations of mothers. The Waterbearers is on the top of my TBR pile and I can't wait to dive in.

of lured me in with her fall reading list that pairs Taylor Swift lyrics with 32 seasonal book picks (!! can you even!), and was kind enough to send one more reading rec my way for this roundup. Holly says:

This fall I’m beyond excited to pick up Samantha Shannon’s new book, Among the Burning Flowers. This is a standalone prequel in her Roots of Chaos fantasy series, which blends epic fantasy (and dragons!) with beautifully rich feminist themes about women—from powerful queendoms, to complex mothers and daughters, to romantic partners. I cannot wait to see what’s in store in this new installment (which is much shorter than its predecessors, making it an accessible starting point for new readers). Entering this world feels perfectly appropriate as summer heat dies down and fiery fall foliage comes in.

I recently discovered and her Substack, our little book collection. Her fall children’s book preview is loaded with fun, new reads that incited waaaaay too many library holds. She also recommends adult books in her newsletter, so I had a hunch she’d have something good for us—and I was right, as this is also one of my most anticipated fall reads! She writes:

I’m most excited to read Wreck by . I haven’t read a single synopsis or spoiler, so I genuinely have no idea what it’s about, only that it is a follow-up to Newman’s 2024 novel Sandwich, which I loved. I know that book sparked some strong opinions, and honestly, I didn’t always like Rocky (the main protagonist) or the choices she made, but that’s part of why it worked for me. It was raw and messy in the best way. An imperfectly perfect story about family, the choices we make, and what it means to be human, particularly what it means to be a woman, a wife, a mother, a daughter. So naturally, I’m really curious to see where Rocky’s story goes next. Coming Oct. 28.

Related reading: more literary links with fall vibes!

• The fall 2025 children’s book preview (mentioned above by Megan!)

• Looking for more? has a great fall list in her always-wonderful newsletter

• Holly’s Spooky Season Reading Guide (also mentioned above!) - a can’t miss.

• Elena rounded up five fall book covers she can’t resist.

• SO MANY amazing cookbooks coming out this fall! of put together this absolutely epic list. (Samin Nosrat! Dan Pelosi! NYT Cookies! Dorie Greenspan! A cocktail book from NPH and David Burtka?! OK!)

• Another wonderful poet, Ada Limon, is also releasing a new collection, Startlement, of new and selected poems. Out Sept. 30.

• NYC’s first horror bookshop just opened in Brooklyn, and it looks perfectly spooky.

• A fall YA release that intrigued me: Sisters in the Wind by Angeline Boulley, about a teen in the foster system named Lucy Smith, who is forced to face secrets she’s been keeping when a couple comes seeking her release. The pair, unbeknownst to Lucy, are harboring truths about her identity that will make her question everything.

• It was fun to see what ’s subscribers are reading this fall—the seasonal content on is always top-notch, and she has a very in-the-know readership on the book front.

• Some backlist books that I have on my TBR for fall: The Secret History, Go As a River, and True Biz.

• My favorite fall academia book has to be My Dark Vanessa by Kate Elizabeth Russell.

• And of course, my post on how to read more as a mom.

Looking for more?! I got you.

Going into this summer, I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. Past summers with my kids felt daunting, at least in part, mostly because it left me holding the mental and logistical load of planning for long stretches of time with preschoolers. This was by design, as my job is malleable, and with a slow past 12 months, very part-time. I had the bandwidth (and the desire to spend extra time with them) but keeping a then three-year-old and five-year-old occupied was undeniably a demanding task.

This year, with two elementary-aged kids (rising TK and 1st grade), the summer felt so much more fun. This sounds more precious than it is, but what I mean is simply that there was less effort required. I didn’t plan a ton (though we did check off some items from my summer guides!). We spent a lot of time outdoors, at the river and our community pool, we made perler bead magnets, threw water balloons in the backyard, met up with friends at the park, popped into the pottery studio, colored and scribbled and painted on lazy days, visited a few new-to-us places, walked to the mini mart, ate 57348543 popsicles.

After I saw them off on the first day of school, I did feel the relief I had been anticipating (alone time! silence! freedom!!) but I also felt nostalgic for the summer we spent together. It felt a bit like the beginnings of a new chapter of motherhood, past the diaper bag packing, beyond the nap planning and into a space of more mutually enjoyable adventures. Not ease, exactly—there were and will still be many meltdowns and inevitable whining—but more shared contentedness. Things may be different tomorrow, or next week—change is never not around the bend in parenthood—but for now, we’re in a special in-between place, one where they’re launching into the world of big little kids, running a few steps ahead, while our hands remain interwoven as we go.

Worth Watching: Stick (AppleTV)

I do not watch nor play golf, but I decided to give this one a try (Owen Wilson is hard for me to resist), and I loved it. Wilson plays a grieving, washed up former pro golfer who re-enters the golf world to coach teenage prodigy Santi into the the big leagues. So fun, so heartwarming, great casting, and Peter Dager, who plays Santi, is so charasmatic you won’t be able to resist him or his motley crew and their antics.

Worth Reading: Wild Dark Shore by Charlotte McConaghy

This is one of those books that once you’ve finished, you wish you could read it again for the first time. It’s also one of those books that makes you wonder, how in the world did the author come up with this?! The creative brain is magic.

I honestly think it’s best to go in not knowing much, but the general gist is that a woman washes up on the beach of a remote island just north of Antarctica. A man and his three kids find her, and try to unearth who she is, exactly—while she seeks to do the same of them. I’ll never forget my literary visit to Shearwater, or the ending that, in my opinion, was 10/10 perfect.

Other books I’ve loved this summer:

• Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid: light on plot and would have liked more of the actually-in-space timeline, but TJR really is great at what she does.

• The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden: a perfectly concise novel with family drama, romance, and an unexpected reveal.

• The Road to Tender Hearts by Annie Hartnett: Hartnett built the most detailed, thoughtful world with a cast of zany, endearing characters - a masterclass in novel writing that’s both hilarious and poignant.

• How to Lose Your Mother by Molly Jong-Fast: this won’t be for everyone but I loved the honesty of MJF and her ability to articulate the complexity of emotions around the difficult relationship she had with her mother, writer Erica Jong.

Worth Spending: Tiny Universe by Rachel Beachy

I interviewed Rachel Beachy earlier this year, and I’m happy to report that her debut poetry collection is now out in the world and ready for you to hold in your very own hands! Her writing about motherhood hits the nail on the head every time, and puts words to feelings you have trouble naming but recognize deep in your bones. Buy it for yourself, all the mom friends, and every pregnant lady you know.

Worth Subscribing: by

Elyse is the kind of parasocial pal who you desperately wish was your IRL friend—she’s a cool girl but full of warmth and no ego. She’s the founder of Wild Plum Books (the cutest, most well-designed bookshop in the heart of Napa), has two young kids, and writes the bookish newsletter , which is full of the best recs and some behind the scenes of running a bookstore. Most issues include a section called Novel Pairings—a novel linked up with a smattering of fashion, homewares, accessories and other miscellany that ties into the book’s themes—which I never miss. I ordered her first zine and poured over it with my book club on our summer retreat to the Russian River. Did I mention she also makes WINE branded under Wild Plum!? A true renaissance woman.

Worth Noting: This Week’s Honorable Mentions

• I started a rewatch of Dawson’s Creek to end the summer, and it’s exactly what I hoped it would be, in all of its dated, cheesy perfection. I was also reminded that this song exists (among so many others).

• The audacity of Heath Ceramics launching a kids line!! The day I purchase a $44 plate for my child is the day you know I’ve absolutely lost it. (But damn they are chic.)

• A denim jacket with vintage, biker jacket vibes.

• Alison Roman’s buttered oat cake keeps floating around in the back of my mind, determined to get to it this fall.

• Followed by: Casey Elsass’s subway cookies.

• Have you spotted the teardrop/moondrop grapes at your local market? They kinda look like fingers, but my kids are enamored with them.

• If you’re near the central coast/Paso Robles/SLO area, please have a drink for me at Yes Cocktail Co.

• How Sweet Eats Crispy Potato Taco Bowls were really tasty, pretty quick to make, and could be tweaked to cater to kids less picky than mine.

• I’m not a water bottle girlie (only glass tumblers and dehydration for me, thank you!), but if I was, I would buy one from Frank Green in a heartbeat. (h/t to , I told you her recs were good!!)

• Have you tried Spindrift Soda? Still no added sugar but seemingly more fruit juice/puree. I got the shirley temple and orange cream flavors, both very satisfying.

• The Reese’s x Oreo collab is just as delicious as I wanted it to be.

• Why yes, I absolutely do need cherry birthday candles and disco sponges.

• These J.Crew utility pants look *very* similar to the $280 LESET Kyoto pants that I’ve seen raved about everywhere.

• Stop explaining the fish.

• Ok Charts via :

  “Do you have a child that loves to say no? Or resist? Perhaps some PDA? Some ADHD? WELCOME. Let me introduce you to an OK chart. Ask your kiddo what they want (toy, game, a new baby sibling, whatever it takes!), then have them draw 30 or so circles on a piece of paper with OK written at the top. They tape it on their door, and every time they answer IMMEDIATELY and CHEERFULLY with an 'Ok!" to a request, they get a check mark.

  Kathleen, I hear you thinking, are we really valuing compliance above all? Do we want our children to just bark "ok!" when asked by a person in power to do something? And I hear this. I do. And I want you to know that I hear you but also I NEED FEWER CONVERSATIONS. The OK Chart immediately solves this, and has been a go to for us for the last 5 years.”

• Nuuly, but for kids clothes.

• FYI, ILY school notes.

• We are all joining Emma Straub’s book club, yes? Her first selection is Heart the Lover by Lily King, which is probably my most anticipated book of fall. I loved loved loved King’s novel Writers & Lovers.

• The chex mix I bring to my book club’s annual summer retreat every year. It’s so good.

• The perfect weekend mug.

• A classic cosmopolitan was my go-to cocktail this summer.

• ICYMI: The Motherhood Penalty (2 mins that will make you think, rage, cry)

• Slowly restoring my mushy mom brain with NYT’s newest game, Pips.

• ’s tour tickets are on sale, and her Napa stop just dropped. I’ll be there with bells on, let me know if you will be too!

Pssst! These summer activities are actually still perfect for fall…

This is the third and final edition of the Mom-First Summer Series! If you missed the first two, on Creativity and Culture + Community, hop on over and check them out.

This series took a lot of time and mental energy to put together, and I’m so happy they’ve resonated with so many of you. Most kids will be back in school after Labor Day (if they aren’t already!) but I’m reminding myself that there’s still a month of summer left to sink into. I’m hunting for pockets of time before the true chaos of fall begins—on those still-hot weekends, an evening hour here and there while the sun still shines until 8pm. I want to wring summer dry, to leave it knowing that I coaxed every drop from its soft, warm existence.

My hope is that these guides are earmarked for all of the lazy mornings and antsy afternoons, stir-crazy weekends and no-school holidays ahead—beyond the dog days of summer. Most of these ideas can be tweaked to fit the season, by moving things inside or thinking a bit outside the box. I hope you’ll keep them in your back pocket for the many moments in the future when you’ll hear a little voice from the other room ask, “Mom, what are we doing today?”

Now, on whimsy. What is whimsy, exactly? The definition is “playfully quaint or fanciful behavior” and “a thing that is fanciful or odd.” To me, though, it means out of the ordinary, delightfully amusing. It’s something that makes you feel a little lighter, something that encourages you to take yourself a little less seriously. Whimsy reminds me that life is short and that play is an important part of a meaningful and fulfilling existence. Engaging with whimsy tells me to look up, look around, sink into the knowing that we are small and the world is big, but that we have today and that is enough.

The Summer Series: Whimsy

THE ITINERARY

Idea #1

• What I want from the day: To make memories with intention

• What we’ll do: Create a family holiday

• How it’ll go: I know this sounds corny, but stay with me! Tradition and ritual are starting to become more and more important to me as my kids have gotten older and are able to recognize and appreciate the things that make our family ours. I’ve kept some of my own childhood traditions, have reconsidered others, and am eager to add new ones. Maybe it’s Pajama Movie Day on January 1st, where you all wear your Christmas pajamas to the theater, loaded up with 7-Eleven candy and big tubs of buttery popcorn. Maybe the last Friday of every month you have a family dinner with food and music and decor centered around a rotating theme. Maybe it’s half-birthday traditions, or something around the equinox marking the end of one season and the beginning of the next. Maybe it’s a random day in February where you only speak in exclamations! or eat things that are orange. The weirder the better!! Coming up with the date together—and hearing everyone’s hair-brained ideas—is half the fun.

Idea #2

• What I want from the day: To embrace seasonality

• What we’ll do: Bake something sweet together

• How it’ll go: Truth be told, baking with my kids isn’t something I do often. The mess, the dirty dishes, the impatience—it’s a lot. But I also want them to appreciate the work that goes into making food, to start to recognize how flavors go together and (gasp!) maybe start to try new foods more readily. To get closer to these lofty dreams, we’ll pick something simple to bake together. I’ll offer an array of ideas (right now on my list is an icebox cake (I still dream about Magnolia Bakery’s version), a peach galette or simple rice crispy treats with tons of colorful candies and sprinkles), and take suggestions from my kids, too. Unicorn bark or homemade pop-tarts would also be a big hit! Whatever we choose, I’ll try to add some whimsy to the final product in the form of edible glitter, sprinkles, or flowers. After dinner, we’ll eat al fresco together, sticky fingers and all.

Idea #3

• What I want from the day: To remember the delights of childhood

• What we’ll do: Ice cream taste-off

• How it’ll go: This idea came to me when I was reading about a new ice cream shop in the town north of us, and realized how many sweets spots there are that we haven’t tried. We’ll choose three or four spots to visit, and pick a couple flavors at each to try (sharing will be key here!). I’ll try to whip up a quick chart to log the flavors (there are lots of very cute blank versions to print online), and mark each flavor with our rating (maybe some gold/silver/bronze stickers?!). This would be fun to do with doughnuts, or cookies, or our family favorite: cinnamon rolls. Even better, it can be done over the course of several afternoons or even after school pick-up.

Idea #4

• What I want from the day: To slow down + engage with wonder

• What we’ll do: Thrift store crawl

• How it’ll go: Antique hunting and thrift store shopping have long been some of my favorite outings—there’s something special about lingering in the company of things that have pasts, items with stories to tell. Kids love to unearth treasures, and the smallest trinkets can become adored keepsakes. I find smaller thrift shops to be the best fit for kids, with personable shopkeepers able to answer curious-kid questions; Goodwill and Salvation Army are wonderful, but can feel overwhelming at times. It’s an activity that encourages you to be in the present, to let your eyes and mind wander, to call across bookshelves and display cases, “Come see what I found!” Cap the afternoon off with smoothies outdoors while you admire your finds.

Idea #5 - Wildcard!

• What you want from the day: What do you want from today that hasn’t been explored?

• What you’ll do: What could fill that desire? What activity, adventure or project can get you closer to those feelings?

• How it’ll go: How can you execute this in a way that feels nourishing and not depleting? How can you accomplish this without overwhelm? (Start small!)

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LOW-BARRIER ALTERNATIVES

These are simpler ideas that allow me to achieve my core intention of engaging with whimsy without a lot of forethought, time or energy. You can use these in addition to the main itinerary or in place of those activities.

1. Watch the sun set! We often catch the sunset, but rarely watch the sun actually set. Find the best spot in your neighborhood—or venture to the water, or a hilltop—and take in the views. Bring some bubbles (cocktail or mocktail style) to make it feel extra whimsical.

2. Research and visit a fairy garden nearby. I recently learned that there’s one hidden in the park in our town plaza!

3. Make spa water in the morning and put it in a big pitcher for all day hydration. Bonus for snagging some cheap, fun glasses at the dollar store or elsewhere - clear sippy cups to see the fruit inside, melamine goblets, teacups!

4. Create a self portrait using only found items from nature on a neighborhood walk.

5. Make barrettes or headbands from shells gathered at the beach (h/t for this one!)

6. Go on a coffee/hot chocolate walk in the morning, snacking on your favorite pastry or a baggie of special cereal (read: filled with marshmallows) while you stroll. This babychino coffee cup would be a real hit in my house.

7. Wear all of your brightest, boldest clothing and accessories together for a day. Imagine the delight of others when they see a human rainbow walking by!

8. Add a mini spa session to the bedtime routine for a night: my kids love a special footwash with exfoliator, followed by a leg rub cozied up in their jams. Maybe you can even get your kiddo to give you one…

9. Put together a time capsule from the summer—movie stubs, collected sea shells, printed pictures, a favorite item of clothing that they’ll outgrow by fall, a note commemorating each person’s favorite memory—and bury it or tuck it away for reminiscing decades from now.

10. For older kids: create your own board game! Have them come up with a theme or characters, draw a board or make cards, pick out gamepieces (leaves! toy cars! M&Ms!), write down the rules. Unleash your competitiveness and go wild.

RECS ON WHIMSY FROM 3 GREAT GUESTS

When I discovered from —a newsletter about fostering a love of reading in kids, and (maybe more importantly) in families—I knew I had found a kindred spirit. As a mom of two with a background in education, Clarkie knows the ins and outs of life with kids, which is why I loved her thoughts on skipping the shoulds this summer and leaning into what works for her family. She says:

I love this prompt, because even though I feel like I am very bad at prioritizing myself in ways that take me away from my children, I'm noticing that I've organized our family's summer around what I want to spend the summer doing, which is opting out of camps for my almost 5-year-old. It means I have very little childcare help (my sons will be 5 and 2 this month), but it also means that I get to travel to see people and places I love, and, when we are home, I can have lazy backyard days or plan excursions (like berry picking or bookstore browsing or going to the Art Institute of Chicago) for myself and my boys instead of spending my summer in the car and wondering if my toddler will have to be woken up from his nap again to pick up his brother.

from Carly Martin Studio constantly inspires me with her dedication to her art, the desire to share her love of creativity with her community, and the way she weaves whimsy and delight into motherhood. Honestly, I just really love how she views the world. I loved what Carly had to say about embracing a slow summer in this season of change, noting:

Our second baby just arrived, which means our summer is very lowkey and it’s something I’ve actually been so relieved about. No stressing about travel plans or bucket lists! Ideally, summertime postpartum for me looks like lots of no-pressure time at home, but with a 3 year old out-of-the-house activities are mandatory for all of our sanity. I’ve let go of putting pressure on how to entertain him and instead have been orienting us around a nature-focused summer.

We live 3 blocks from a great park that he loves and visits daily with his daycare as well as with us, and we’ve added to his backyard activities at home with gardening toys, sports equipment and water play stuff. He loves watering our flowers and checking on the little bunny that lives under our deck. Our outings are farmer’s markets, parks, coffee shops which is pretty much how we spend our weekends anyway. My goal is to enjoy this slow summer with him while he’s still too young to care about camps, teams or activities that are more involved.

writes about all of motherhood in her newsletter , from style and design to rediscovering your identity and making time for ourselves with and outside of our children. Bridget is thoughtful with her time, checking in with herself and her kids to make sure their days are serving their needs. She writes:

Since becoming a mom 5 years ago I noticed how much I enjoyed and needed nature. And what I mean by that is, a simple stroll around the block, or a walk at a local nature preserve, sitting by the ocean and listening to the waves crash or spending the day at our local lake swimming. These activities reset me, and I always feel that they reset my kids too. I find that so much of motherhood is noise and chaos and I'm always trying to block out what doesn't serve me, and enjoy my kids throughout it all.

I revolve most of my time with my kids around the theme of getting outside and being in nature. I feel like a better version of myself because my cup is being filled, and it's not a heavy lift for me to do this by myself, when my husband is working. Some of our most favorite times as a family are the little moments like flying a kite on the beach or traveling to a new place we've never experienced before. In my personal opinion and experience, not everything fun and memorable needs to revolve around kid centric activities.

One of my favorite things we've done and will continue to do is go to our local lake in the afternoons. We meet friends there, the kids get to swim, we have a picnic dinner and by the time the lake is closing, it’s bedtime and we skip the dreaded 5-7pm cranky window because we were all too busy having fun. I enjoy this because I get to swim with them, or talk to a friend while our kids play together. And my kids are so happy, enjoying the simple pleasures of life. A total cup filler!

BOOKS, RESOURCES + BEYOND

This list includes just a small smattering adult and children’s books, some movie inspiration, and a few whimsical odds and ends. Please share your additions in the comments!

• The Book of Delights by Ross Gay

• Enchantment by Katherine May

• Joyful: The Surprising Power of Ordinary Things by Ingrid Fetell Lee

• Big Fish, possibly one of my favorite movies of all time. It is the embodiment of whimsy, in film form.

• Any and all books by Roald Dahl

• Things to Look Forward to by Sophie Blackall

• Up, another favorite, filled with whimsical adventures (and plenty of tears, in the best way)

• Get an assist on creating your own board game with this $12 kit.

• A perfect sticker for the occasion.

• Ordering any of the many mystery kits or surprise bundles or blind dates with a book on Etsy feels very whimsical to me—surprise and delight!

• And can’t forget The Mom-First Summer Series: Whimsy PINTEREST BOARD! 📋 Some inspiration and images to set the vibe.

Back to regularly scheduled programming next week! Thanks so much for sharing this creative, communal, whimsy-filled summer with me. 💛

If you missed the first installment on Creativity, be sure to check that out first!

This edition—on Culture and Community—is about finding ways to connect locally: with neighbors and friends, small businesses, landmarks, cultural centers, and all of the many things that make the place you live special. If you live in or near a bigger city, you likely have many opportunities to explore these types of things, but there’s so much to discover in small towns, too. We live 45 minutes from San Francisco, but I’m keeping my sights on my small town and those that surround it. Do what works for you and your family—a combination of a big city excursion and smaller local activities could be the perfect mix.

The Summer Series: Culture + Community

THE ITINERARY

Idea #1:

• What I want from the day: To see my town with fresh eyes

• What we’ll do: Take a self-guided tour (via bus, train, or bike!)

• How it’ll go: We have a robust bus system throughout the county, and a train that weaves from our town all the way down to the Bay. I’ll take a quick preliminary look at the stops on the routes, and pick a few spots that might be fun to stop at—but mostly I’ll embrace the unknown (and probably some chaos) and see where the ride takes us. And listen: the ride itself can be the activity. When my kids were one and three, we took the train about five stops, got off with them loaded up in the stroller, puttered around the farmer’s market for awhile, then headed back home—a successful outing without too much effort. If your kids are older, exploring by bike would be fun, too, either on its own or in conjunction with a bus or train ride.

Idea #2:

• What I want from the day: To connect with people I love

• What we’ll do: Snail mail party

• How it’ll go: Gather paper, envelopes, markers, pens, stickers, vintage (or new) postcards, washi tape, and anything else you’d like to use (reuse stores, HomeGoods, craft stores, Target are all great places to find inexpensive supplies), and carve out a couple hours at the kitchen tables to send letters to friends and loved ones. Have your kids create a list of recipients (grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles, classmates, long-distance friends, neighbors, your mailman or garbage man!)—everyone loves mail! There are also pen pal projects like Peaceful Pen Pals and Global Pen Friends. Retirement and assisted living communities often welcome letters from kids to their residents. Older kids could also write to their favorite author, or someone else they admire. Some other ideas: snap a polaroid of yourself to send with the card or letter. Add a sheet of stickers, a coloring page or a bookmark inside. Wax seals are very fun and pack a real punch!

Idea #3:

• What I want from the day: To have an impact in my community

• What we’ll do: Volunteer!

• How it’ll go: Lending a hand at a food bank is almost always needed, and typically there are tasks for kids to do in the assembly line. A friend of mine also regularly volunteers at our grocery store on behalf of the food bank, handing out flyers to shoppers and collecting what is most in short supply. A beach cleanup is another kid-friendly idea and would be a well-received project for my beach-loving kids. Some other ideas: shopping for school supplies and donating them to schools in need; helping out in the community garden; walking dogs/visiting animals at an animal shelter. Create care packages for unhoused members of the community, filled with toothbrushes and toothpaste, granola bars, water, socks, wipes, etc. Inquire at your local hospital if they accept art kits for kids who may be stuck at the hospital for longer periods of time, and assemble them together—the dollar store always has great, inexpensive supplies.

Idea #4:

• What I want from the day: To give back—and meet our neighbors

• What we’ll do: Make a lemonade stand (for good)

• How it’ll go: My kids—4 and 6—are at the perfect ages to host their first lemonade stand, and at 41, I am at the perfect age to revisit this quintessential summer activity. We’ve seen a bunch pop up around our neighborhood over the last couple of months, so we’ll all put our heads together to think of something to make our stand stand out. Bags of homemade chex mix? Bite-sized cookies? Otter pops? A melon aqua fresca?! Maybe some kid art on tiny canvases? Perler bead magnets? Friendship bracelets?! The possibilities feel truly endless. I thought it could be fun to make a visitor log, cataloguing the name of each customer (and maybe even their address or street?) so we can better know our neighbors. After we wrap, we’ll take a portion of the money and donate it together to a local organization of their choice.

Idea #5 - Wildcard!

• What you want from the day: What do you want from today that hasn’t been explored?

• What you’ll do: What could fill that desire? What activity, adventure or project can get you closer to those feelings?

• How it’ll go: How can you execute this in a way that feels nourishing and not depleting? How can you accomplish this without overwhelm? (Start small!)

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LOW-BARRIER ALTERNATIVES

These are simpler ideas that allow me to achieve my core intention of engaging with culture + community without a lot of forethought, time or energy. You can use these in addition to the main itinerary or in place of those activities.

1. Head to a summer concert nearby - our county’s farmers markets often have concerts each week during the summer, for free or with a low admission price.

2. Dine at a restaurant with a cuisine you (or your kids) have never tried. Even if they don’t *love* the food, the novelty alone may get them in the door.

3. Pop into the library and ask the librarian for book recs (adult and children’s!) that explore your town, county or state’s history.

4. Visit local landmarks in your town or city - even our tiny town has a museum! Historical societies, regional parks, monuments are all good starting places.

5. Explore your community gardens - visit them to pick what’s ripe, or find out how you can get involved in their maintenance or seasonal projects.

6. Have your child think of one small thing you could do together for someone else today.

7. Attend a local sporting event - youth and rec leagues count! Make signs or wear the team colors to cheer them on.

8. Research “third places” in your town or city—all the places that aren’t home or work and are intended for community, like parks, libraries, community centers, coffee shops and beyond. Keep a running list and try to visit a couple each month.

9. Plan a low-key summer dinner party - have the kids pick a theme, come up with ideas for food or decorations, have them create invitations, etc.

10. OR Skip the dinner party and opt for a sunset pizza party at the park with pals. Tell everyone to invite a friend the others may not know!

RECS ON CULTURE + COMMUNITY FROM 4 GREAT GUESTS

from Mittens and Boots—a newsletter with the best children’s book recs and lots of activities to boot—writes about taking her kids to museums, with a handy accompaniment that keeps them engaged:

I’m not great at doing things that are 100% me-focused that I might love (like a yoga class or meeting friends for dinner — I am working on this!). However, I am VERY good at fitting my kids into my interests, with some modifications.

One example that comes to mind: My husband and I love museums and have taken our kids since they were small. They *always* get a little handmade one page zine to fill in while we’re there. We get to look at art for a few hours while they complete a scavenger hunt searching for naked butts and sketching the weirdest thing they can find. I read something years ago that children love to experience things their parents genuinely adore. I’ve tried to take this to heart, be it live music, an athletic pursuit, fancy restaurants…they want to share in our joy, very much.

of , a newsletter that highlights the beauty found in the “mess of everyday life” (yes please!), takes it to the great outdoors:

Walking outside keeps me sane. I do it everyday, rain or shine, and most often with my kids too! This summer we added in these nature sets, which have added a whole other element. [These are available for many, if not all, states! Search “[your state] nature set” and a bunch should surface.]

—new mom, travel writer, and author of the newsletter —shares about the wonder that can be found as easily in our own backyards as on adventures to faraway lands. Anne writes:

My favorite things to do after kids—traveling, cooking, and yoga—are the same as before I became a mother. I just have a lot less time to do all three. While I make an effort to indulge my kids' interests (hello, garbage trucks,) I also incorporate them into mine to keep those parts of me alive. With my toddler, I let him experiment and play alongside me with his own mini kitchen tools or yoga mat. With my baby, I cook while babywearing or attend baby-friendly yoga classes.

When it comes to traveling, my husband and I make it a priority to plan one international trip each year as a family and take the kids where we want to go. This way, I have something to look forward to every time I miss traveling. Last year we went to the Dordogne in France and San Sebastián, Spain.

of the newsletter marries the mundane with the miraculous in her essays about motherhood, fashion and beyond—with lots of laughs along the way; she’s the internet pal you’ll quickly be scheming to convert into an IRL bff. Elin says:

First of all, I love that you’re spotlighting mom-first activities — those are my jam! Since day one as a SAHM, I’ve prioritized getting out of the house with my daughter to do things we *both* enjoy. A favorite outing for us is a coffee shop and bookstore date — something I’d do with a girlfriend, too.

Last month, we sat down as a family and made a summer bucket list. Every item on the list is something I genuinely want to do *and* can include both kids — like visit the Natural History Museum in Los Angeles (check), get my favorite sugar cookies at Balboa Island (check), and stay in Santa Barbara for a few nights (pray for me). Happy mom, happy life… that’s the saying, right?

OFF HOURS: MOM-ONLY ACTIVITIES

• Attend a town hall or city council meeting (just one!)

• Plan a block party if you’re feeling REALLY ambitious!!

• Rally friends to museum hop together—in the nearest city or at smaller spots in your town!—followed by dinner at one of the oldest eateries in the area.

• Join a book club without knowing a single person in it—you’ll open yourself up to new circles and interests (and books!)

• Make your go-to dinner x2 and deliver half to a friend—because they can use extra support right now or just because.

BOOKS, RESOURCES + BEYOND

This list includes just a small smattering of books for adults, children’s books, and a few extra odds and ends.

• How We Show Up: Reclaiming Family, Friendship and Community by Mia Birdsong

• When You Care: The Unexpected Magic of Caring for Others by Elissa Strauss

• Find Your People by Jennie Allen

• The Art of Gathering by Priya Parker

• What Can I Bring? A cookbook by Casey Elsass

• Today by Julie Morstad (children’s)

• We Are Better Together by Bill McKibben

• The Circles All Around Us by Brad Montague

• Something Good by Marcy Campbell

• The World Needs More Purple People by Kristen Bell

• “What is a third place? And how to find one” -

• Richard Scarry’s busy, busy postcard set

• Mystery postcards!

• One stop shop: Snail mail kit!

• And can’t forget The Mom-First Summer Series: Culture + Community PINTEREST BOARD! 📋 Some inspiration and images to set the vibe.

See you soon for the last installment of the series: Whimsy! 💛

Welcome to the first edition of the mom-first summer series! If you missed my spiel on why I’m doing this, pop over to Issue 60 to read all about it.

As I’ve been writing this guide on creativity, it’s struck me how little our American culture welcomes kids into adult-focused activities, in the way that they do in many European cultures—where designing spaces for the inclusion of kids is a priority rather than an afterthought. Don’t get me wrong, I get a little bratty when I see a two-year-old eating at a fancy restaurant at 9pm when I’m paying a babysitter a rather large sum of money to escape children, ahem. But there is something to finding a place for kids to partake in activities that engage both the parent and the child—the opportunity to enter a shared world of creativity and discovery. I’m hoping to create a bit of that experience here.

Some quick notes to preface this guide:

1. Center your activities to your own personal interests—and how you want to feel doing them. I tried to make the guides widely appealing, but the goal is for you to tweak them to fit you and your family. If you’re having trouble coming up with ideas, think more macro: try to recall as many things that may have sparked your interest over the years—from childhood into adulthood—and follow those crumbs. Remember the original prompt: What do I want to get out of the summer? How do I want to feel?

2. Align your activities and projects with your kids’ ages and abilities. These are things I can realistically accomplish, or adapt, with a 4-year-old and a 6-year-old. Frame your plan with where your kids are developmentally at the forefront.

3. Keep the bar low-ish. For me, this means one focused activity a day, typically not more than 2-3 hours in duration. This both keeps me from getting overwhelmed or burnt out, and also leaves space for other things that I both want to build into our schedule (slow mornings, time for boredom/free play) and things I need to build into our schedule (some working hours, errands, etc).

4. Plans will inevitably be foiled. I know that I will scrap the plan more than a few times, and that’s okay. This is meant to be a helpful tool and not a prison sentence—a bit of a northstar to create some structure in our days and come away with a handful of memories for all of us. If it starts to feel like an obligation, it can (and should!) be reworked.

Each edition will include:

• Four activities to inspire, plus a prompt to create one of your own

• Simple, low-lift alternate ideas

• Inspiration from some really great guests

• Kid-free activities on the week’s theme for when you have solo time

• Resources, theme-related books, and other odds and ends

• A pinterest board to set the vibe!

The Summer Series: Creativity

THE ITINERARY

Idea #1:

• What I want from the day: To get still + connect with my inner world

• What we’ll do: Collage extravaganza!

• How it’ll go: First, collect all sorts of collateral in myriad forms. I like to go to the library and purchase a bunch of their old magazines at 50 cents a pop. I’ll also pull out stickers, tissue paper, any and all scraps lingering about. Junk mail works. Snagging a picture book or a random poetry collection from your nearest little library is perfect. If you want to spend a bit on the supplies, you can buy kits on Etsy, or a collage book with pictures to cut from (see resources below), or scoop up this fun washi tape and these neat dots I heard about from Handpicked by Alex Steele. Reuse centers, thrift stores, or places like Habitat for Humanity Restore are great for finding cheap odds and ends. The dollar store also never fails for treasures. Get out your kid-safe scissors, glue sticks, and some thick cardstock or poster board to create on. The rules are there are no rules.

Idea #2:

• What I want from the day: To remember small delights

• What we’ll do: Photography scavenger hunt

• How it’ll go: We have a CampSnap camera that I’m hoping we can all use without fighting over it (eep). I love this camera because it’s similar to film in that you can’t review the images in-camera, forcing a bit of delayed gratification until they can be uploaded to a computer. You could also use an instax, an old-school disposable camera, an actual film camera, or of course your phone (there is no shame in choosing the lowest barrier to entry!!).

• P.S. - If you become a paid subscriber, you’ll get access to a printable card with nine ideas of things to photograph!

Idea #3:

• What I want from the day: To learn something new

• What we’ll do: Take a pottery class

• How it’ll go: I imagine it may be easy to find family-friendly art classes in larger cities, but here in the Sonoma County suburbs, I was really bummed to see how few classes were available to welcome all ages (cue all my Bay Area pals sending me links for recs!). I remembered that my friend Paula had told me how our local community center has a pottery studio (!!) which welcomes all ages during their open hours. Because there are options to both use the wheel and make hand-built pottery (like pinch pots)—plus materials available for purchase on-site—this feels really welcoming to a newbie and a couple small kiddos.

Idea #4:

• What I want from the day: To do something that intimidates me

• What we’ll do: Canvas art

• How it’ll go: Buy larger-than-feels-comfortable canvases from Michael’s, your local art supply store, or even for free or cheap on Facebook Marketplace. Think 11x14 or bigger. All kinds of mediums are great; this post by Meri Cherry on painting large canvases with kids is so helpful and inspiring and a great place to get started. Lay down an old bedsheet or drop cloth, put on some of your favorite music, and go to town. Don’t overthink it! Paint like your kid does, without censorship or fear. Dip your brush in whatever color is calling to you. What a thrill to make a big piece of art without pretense.

Idea #5 - Wildcard!

• What you want from the day: What do you want from today that hasn’t been explored?

• What you’ll do: What could fill that desire? What activity, exercise, or creative project can get you closer to those feelings?

• How it’ll go: How can you execute this in a way that feels nourishing and not depleting? How can you accomplish this without overwhelm? (Start small!)

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SIMPLE, LOW-LIFT ALTERNATIVES

These are simpler ideas that allow me to achieve my core intention of engaging with creativity without a lot of forethought, time or energy. You can use these in addition to the main itinerary or in place of those activities.

1. A no-brainer but keep craft supplies on the kitchen table or counter all week. Yes, it will feel cluttered. But having them in eyesight instantly inspires frequent and creative usage. Think paint pens, stickers, colored paper, origami paper, scissors, glue, markers, masking tape, cardboard, crayons, googly eyes, watercolors, pipe cleaners, rubber stamps—whatever you have on hand.

2. Blend paint colors together, create a mini palette with them on paper, and then come up with fun, Pantone-inspired names for each (you could name them together with your kids, or each come up with a name and share with each other!)

3. Grab a giant cardboard color-your-own ice cream shop at Target, or buy one of the many coloring rolls on Etsy. I love that I can leave these out all week and we can chip away at them together. Try using a new medium each day (crayon, marker, colored pencil, paint pen, watercolor, finger paints, pastels…)

4. Buy each child (and yourself!) an inexpensive, blank sketchbook (medium-sized, journal-style) and let them decorate the cover with stickers, cut-outs, etc, and have them add to it each day (journaling, coloring, activity log, pasting in mementos, etc). This has been a real hit at our house.

5. Co-create art by taking turns adding something (in whatever medium you choose) to a single piece of paper or canvas.

6. Have disposable cameras, instax, or a non-digital camera like CampSnap on hand—and kept in the room you use most in your house, or by the front door, for ease of use—instead of relying on your phone. Print them or go through them at the end of the week, pick your favorites, and decide together how to use them (frame? snail mail them to a friend in the photo? make a photo collage on a bulletin board?)

7. I love these printable customizable punch cards by Jenna at (one of the most fun, whimsical and inspiring newsletters in the creative space in my opinion!). You can create any title for them you want, though her example design with “created something with my hands today” feels very open-ended and perfect for the season since “created” can apply to art, cooking, building, and beyond. Seasonal bucket lists give me so much anxiety as a parent, so I love how the punch can be anything creative you do without it having to be premeditated.

8. Chalk painting! I did not think a Busy Toddler idea would make it into this guide but here we are. I would actually enjoy doing this. Thanks to my friend LG for reminding me of this one!

9. Pick up 5 children’s books at the library, each about a famous creative, and read them throughout the week.

10. Rock painting - a classic for a reason. I love how you can go abstract or literal, detailed or a single color—anything goes. For older kids, I think permanent paint pens would be so fun to use atop a base paint layer.

11. Try making a split-face self-portrait. This one terrifies me, so I know I have to try it! (Also, I would just use whatever photos I have available—or print one in black and white on my regular ol’ printer—rather than following the lengthy photo printing instructions here.)

12. Some ideas for the moms with older kids: Write a short story together. Create a short stop-motion video with your phone using clay. Make flower crowns. Try a shibori or tie-dye workshop. Learn how to make paper flowers. Preserve something in resin. Paint by number.

RECS ON CREATIVITY FROM 3 GREAT GUESTS

Shannon and Bar of (my new favorite kid-centered creativity newsletter) created a huge list of crafty items that are great for travel (or home!), from the tried-and-true to the unexpected—which really inspired me to think beyond crayons and stickers. Shannon writes:

“When I pack for a trip, I think about compatibility and open-endedness. What things can play well together and keep them engaged? For us, that means a coloring book or craft kit is less likely to make the cut. Instead, I’m choosing painting, drawing, and sculpting materials that can work together and inspire ingenuity and creative thinking. I’m bringing supplies for myself too, trading in my regular doom-scrolling habit for sketching, doodling, or collecting shells on vacation.”

from —mom to 4 kids and queen of sharing the best roundups and book recs—writes:

“I love involving my children in various activities throughout the summer that I enjoy—reading, moving my body, tending to the garden. But one thing I’m hoping to be intentional about this summer is my creative expression. My 7-year-old got a sewing machine for Christmas, so we’ve selected a few projects we each want to work on together. I also plan to pull out art supplies—beads, watercolors, pastels, collage materials—and sit down at the table or on a blanket to create alongside my kids. I’ve been feeling the creative itch to make things with my hands lately, and involving my kids will help me connect with them, foster my own creativity, and support theirs at the same time!”

of is no stranger to finding ways to integrate her kids into her creative practice, with collaborative art projects and incredible coloring pages around activism—though it’s time outdoors that truly fills them all up. Eleanor writes:

“I have been thinking on your question about a 'mum-first summer'. I have to admit, I'm not sure if I ever get there! I tend to aim for 'sights of mutual fulfillment', where everyone's needs are met. I think I came across that phrase from Lucy Aitken Read. For us, a sight of mutual fulfillment would be somewhere near water like the beach. We all love spending time in the ocean and my children will happily entertain themselves while I read or draw. Camping is also the same. We love spending time in nature and usually pick camping spots where it is safe for the kids to go off and play independently while I can fulfill my own needs for a little peace, time to think and be creative.”

WORTH ASKING:

How are you building creativity into your summer? What are you looking forward to doing before summer’s end?

Leave a comment

BOOKS, RESOURCES + BEYOND

This list includes just a small smattering of creativity-inspiring picture books, collage kits, resource books for kids and adults, art decks and more.

• In My Heart by Jo Witek: A book about emotions, with the best illustrations that will inspire you and your kids to express your feelings in creative ways.

• Invisible Things by Andy J. Pizza - A book about invisible phenomena that shape our lives, going beyond everyday emotions and tackling things like melancholy, the giggles, and pizzazz. The illustrations are so much fun.

• To Make by Danielle Davis - A picture book celebrating the joys of creativity and collaboration

Below you’ll find…

• …a dozen more links to creative resources

• …off hours: mom-only activities

• …a printable download for the photo scavenger hunt with 9 unique prompts

• …a link to a Pinterest board full of inspiration

• Mini Artists: 20 Projects Inspired by the Great Artists by Josephine Seblon—not to be confused with Mini Artist: Encouraging Kids to Create Without Fear by Jen Ramos (both look great)

• Take a ticket: 200 tear-off creativity prompts - kids freaking love this kind of novelty!

• 12 Months of Art Challenges by TinkerLab - simple one-word prompts to get you started in creating something, anything!

• A Collage Workshop for Kids: Rip, snip, cut, and create with inspiration from The Eric Carle Museum by Shannon Merenstein

• 15-Minute Art - Drawing by Jessica Smith - an adult book, but older kids could use too

• Cut Up This Book by Eliza Scott - loads of images to use for collaging

• Extra Things to Cut to Cut Out and Collage for Kids by Aria Everdream -same as above, geared towards kids

• The Mother Artist by Catherine Ricketts - a book about the artistic lives of 50 creative mothers

• The Endless Art Challenge - a deck of 90 creativity prompt cards!

• Ladies Drawing Night - A guide to creating 10 unique evenings of art with friends, each one with a different theme or approach, guided by some of the best modern day female illustrators.

• Draw with Mom! - A two-person doodle book! (C’mon, that’s just plain cute.)

• Guided Art Therapy Card Deck - 75 activities to unpack feelings, ease anxiety, and explore identity through art, with techniques ranging from drawing, writing, collaging, painting and more.

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OFF HOURS: MOM-ONLY ACTIVITIES

• Meet some friends at a park after dinner for a night of al fresco art-making. Tell everyone to bring wine or something sweet, as well as any creative project they might be working on. Tote along some extra watercolor paper and a couple cheap paint trays or a bunch of collage materials for anyone who doesn’t have a project already simmering. Reassure everyone that they are, in fact, creative.

• Take an adults-only art class—with friends, on a date, or solo (check in with yourself to see what you need).

• Get outside alone for an hour and journal about all the ways you’d like to build more creativity into your life. What would this look like? What kind of art, craft or hobby do you want to explore or hone? How many hours a month would you like to engage with it? How could you build this time into a consistent practice? Remember, nearly anything can be a creative pursuit.

• Look through your saved digital files for creative inspiration (Pinterest, Instagram, open tabs, screenshots…) then act on one of them. Did you save a photograph that inspired you? Could you recreate it? That screenshot of a poem you loved - can you write your own version? That meal that inspired you, can you make it with your own twist?

• Do one thing from the itinerary or low-barrier ideas WITHOUT kids. How did that change the experience? What was lost and what was gained by creating alone?

GRAB THE PHOTOGRAPHY SCAVENGER HUNT PRINTABLE BELOW! 📸

PRINTABLE PDF

And can’t forget the Summer Series, Week 1: Creativity PINTEREST BOARD! 📋 Lots of project inspiration and images to set the vibe.

See you soon for WEEK 2: Culture + Community! 💛

Since I became a parent, I’ve eagerly anticipated summer—my favorite season—while also dreading the many hours of time I’d need to drum up activities for my kids to keep busy until daycare or school started again. I looked forward to the extra time with them, but it also felt heavy with planning and all the while there was some loss of the autonomous joy that I used to derive from this time of year.

This, to me, is the reason all the millennial moms are flocking to the idea of creating a 90s summer for their kids: it’s full of nostalgia that connects them to the joys they experienced pre-parenthood. That, and it feels like focusing on the simplicities of neighborhood bike rides, popsicles on the back deck, and encouraging weeks of pure boredom is a permission slip to let go a bit and stop doing so damn much to ensure our kids have the best summers ever. The moms are tiiiiired.

One year for Christmas, my friend Sara (hi Sara!) sent me a Christmas ornament, a beautiful, brightly-colored felt cocktail glass (pre-kids I was very into cocktail-making!) along with the note: “I hope you look at this ornament every year and remember all the things you were before and in addition to ‘mom.’”

That note is pinned on my office bulletin board and I think of the sentiment often. We gain so much in becoming mothers, and we also lose parts of ourselves at the same time. It takes many, many seasons to slowly rediscover those forgotten bits—or remake new ones in their place.

With this thought in mind, it struck me that maybe there was another way to experience summer. Instead of planning kid-centric activities to fill our summer days, what if I made a list of all the things that I wanted to do this summer, and see how I might be able to weave my kids into those plans? So I created a series that invites you to reconnect with yourself, prompting you to ask the question: What do I want out of this summer? And then: how might I be able to bring my kids along for the ride? My hope is that it might encourage you to reorient this season so that you—and all the things you love to experience—may be brought forth, reminding you, too, of who you were before you became “mom.”

There will be three guides in the series, each with a theme: Creativity, Culture + Community, and Whimsy. I’m really excited to share these, and I hope they help in some small way.

See you soon with the first guide!

June was a whirlwind month here…

• A belated birthday adventure for my now 6-year-old to the Monterey Bay Aquarium and his very first stay in a hotel(!!)

• Two graduations (preschool and kindergarten!)

• A 10-day visit from my husband’s mom and grandmother (my kids’ nana and great nana)

• The start of ballet for my daughter…

• …followed by celebrations for her 4th birthday

• Our first camping trip together

• A big BBQ with my side of the family

• Plus a million little things in between—like trips to the river, end-of-school events, and a week of camp

Lots of memories made, and also very little time to rest. I’m happy July is here, and ready for a bit of a reset (and more time working on this newsletter!!). And just a PSA: if you’re drowning a little bit this summer, I see you. This season can be both wondrous and overwhelming, relaxing and chaotic, cup-filling and depleting. Let it be all the things. You’re doing great.

1. ’s merch is excellent—I’m leaning towards the Radical Left Lunatic shirt myself.

2. I loved the concept of a “mentor mom” from in her post on 7 Things I Wish I’d Known As a Young Mom: someone who has kids a bit older than yours, being just ahead of you enough to offer perspective but close enough that she can still relate to what you’re going through.

3. Recent river trips make me feel like it’s time to succumb to buying a quintessential mom sun hat (currently sold out; this one is fun too)

4. ’s world peace cookies feel very needed right about now.

5. ’s greeting cards from her Kwohtations line are just the best out there. I want to order one of each just to have on hand, popping them into the mail on a whim.

6. Added a bunch of books to my TBR thanks to of - 17 Essential Reads About Motherhood.

7. Love these confetti tortoise shell sunnies.

8. I love Kate McLeod’s body lotion stones, and her new sun stone feels like a summer must-have.

9. Playground pants. (A+ reporting by )

10. Tinto de Verano—red wine and lemon soda over ice—is on my summer menu.

11. Speaking of cocktails: PALOMA OLIVES!! from !

12. Don’t have to tell me twice: a bibliophile oracle deck.

There’s a phrase, that when I hear it, I recoil a bit, my face scrunched just slightly with unease: I can’t imagine. It’s almost always said in kindness, an apologetic offering meant to acknowledge the immense weight of someone’s grief. But what I also hear is: I can’t allow myself to enter the place of pain you’re inhabiting. It’s tinged with otherness, a me and a you. It feels lonely, that separateness.

I’ve been thinking, as we all have, about the current events happening worldwide—the protests in L.A. and beyond, the humanitarian crisis in Gaza, the near inevitability of stripping millions of Americans of their medical care and food benefits. And alongside the rage, what I mostly find myself wondering is: where did our lack of empathy go?

Raising kids amidst these crises keeps that question percolating in my mind. We speak a lot in our house about kindness, about being good and generous to others. But lately all I’ve wanted to teach my kids is its sister virtue: empathy. As they move through the world and meet people of all colors, backgrounds, circumstances, viewpoints, I want them simply to get curious and ask themselves, how must they feel? In an age where we’ve become desensitized to horror and pain, I want them to stay sensitive. I want them to see the woman asking for money outside the grocery store and get curious: what might she have experienced to lead her here? In spotting the student sitting alone at lunch: I wonder if he feels lonely? And then: how can I help?

Children have the most expansive, beautiful imaginations. They use them to daydream, to create alternate worlds, to test ideas. Nurturing this inherent imaginative aptitude is, in itself, nurturing empathy. Encouraging kids to imagine a foreign scenario, a lived experience outside of their own is to incite a revolution of unbridled care towards those around them—both in their own local communities and to those afar who they will never meet.

As adults, the best we can do is mirror this for them—a difficult task when we know too much, when rage feels more productive than empathy. And don’t get me wrong—anger can certainly be a tool to enact change. But I think it’s empathy, even for those who, in theory, deserve it the least, that will create a wave of unity that we haven’t felt collectively in a long time.

It’s okay if this feels unattainable or futile right now. But maybe we start with feeling the despair and also feeling empathy towards those we harbor animosity the most, modeling the acceptance of that paradox to our kids. Think of power-hungry, inflammatory leaders of our country and ask not how dare they? but instead, who hurt them? For those consuming the rhetoric that immigrants are a threat to our communities, ask what terror might they have been fleeing in hopes of a better life for their family? As we recommit to our own empathy in the face of hopelessness, we show our kids the possibilities of a generous spirit to soften the disparities between us and to ultimately shepard the world into a different way of relating to one another. Imagine, imagine, imagine.

We watched E.T. on family movie night this weekend which, if you think about it, is wrapped in empathy. Elliott and his siblings, faced with a foreign and kind-of-scary lifeform, befriend the visitor with curiosity and kindness in the way only children can. They offer him food, shelter, warmth. They teach him things and learn from him in turn. They don’t disparage or tease, dismiss or assume. They empathize with him and invite him into their human world, and get a glimpse into his as well. The plot of a movie isn’t a proxy for mitigating political upheaval, but it is a reminder of the ways in which leading with empathy in the face of fear can lead to growth and a greater understanding of the very things that scare us the most.

As the movie wrapped with the emotional scene of the three kids saying their goodbyes to E.T., my youngest welled up with tears. Her empathy was palpable—she felt the sadness of separation, the sweetness of friendship, the ache of an unfair world. She recognized the profundity of children protecting a stranger. She knew what we have forgotten: our worlds—inner and outer—become fuller when we invite empathy in.

Worth Reading: Broken Country by Claire Leslie Hall

This is one of those super buzzy books of the summer (though it was released in March), selected for Reese’s Book Club to boot. It follows our protagonist Beth over the course of over a decade, switching between her teenage romance with Gabriel in 1955 and then thirteen years later, married to salt-of-the-earth Frank and mourning the loss of their son, Bobby. In present day, we watch as a trial unfolds in the murder of a local farmer. There’s so much depth to this book, layers and layers to unpack with impeccable storytelling by Clare Leslie Hall. I loved this from beginning to end!

Worth Subscribing:

I can’t for the life of me remember how I discovered The Soft Spot, but there are so many things about it that instantly appealed to me: it’s run by three friends (who are also mothers), they live in the Hudson Valley, NY (swoon) and have an array of thoughtful, funny, service-y, and just plain fun content (we contain multitudes). This is a newer read for me, but I’m already smitten with Maddie, Genevieve + Ashley and the work they’re putting into the world.

Worth Deep-Diving: The Chaos of the ACIP

RFK Jr.’s removal of all 17 members of the advisory committee on immunization and prevention this week is a huge loss in the protection of kids against preventable diseases. I found Tangle’s coverage immensely helpful in explaining why this is a big deal, and Jessica Knurick also dissects the situation with additional focus on how this will directly affect families, what you can do about it, and how the whole thing started with propaganda eroding trust in science (because of course it did).1

Worth Spending: Wide-Leg Crop Jeans and Open Stitch Sweater

Sorry for another jeans rec!! But this Banana Republic pair really is great and comes in a bunch of washes. I feel like I am never not looking for jeans recommendations, and maybe it’s the same for you?! I got the light wash and the ecru - I recommend sizing down one as they run a little big with the light stretch. The open stitch sweater is perfect for summer; I took my smaller size. So many other great finds too, especially dresses like this linen-blend shirtdress (so many color options) and this mixed media midi tank dress. Lots of J. Crew vibes all around.

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Worth Noting: This Week’s 10 Honorable Mentions

1. Speaking of jeans, my sister got these very cute drawstring jeans from Anthro and had the best things to say about them!

2. New York friends: with endorsements from Jia Tolentino and the NYT, checking Blast Off NYC for kid-friendly weekend activities feels like a no-brainer.

3. I’m not much of a baseball cap girl, but I really adore the preciousness of this daisy-embroidered version for summer.

4. Adding Four Mothers to my TBR, which follows—you guessed it—four mothers, across four countries (Finland, Japan, the U.S., and Kenya) during their first year of motherhood.

5. As a tuna melt lover, I was very invested in this takedown of a tuna melt with a giant slab of iceberg lettuce on it. (Though now feel like I absolutely must try this iteration.)

6. Very, very tempted to try an issue of the newspaper Le Petit 3 even though there’s little information on what it’s actually about. Should I do it?!

7. I continue to be a person who wishes she had the bandwidth to garden but knows she absolutely does not at this juncture! But I wanted to throw out this fun Substack to my gardening pals! Amy’s post on good enough gardening lured me in—because as you know, I am an enthusiastic champion of the good enough mom.

8. Summer reading challenges aren’t just for kids. (And how cute is SF Public Library’s summer reading tote?!)

9. Another great Substack rec: of —honest motherhood and so many great kid- and mom-centered recs from products to recipes to books and beyond.

10. Made these easy crispy chicken street tacos by this week which were great, and itching to make this tortellini salad from How Sweet Eats ASAP.

Instead, I spent an hour inside a smelly gymnastics gym while my two children made me “WATCH MAMA! WATCH!” a series of attempts on a balance beam not more than twelve inches off the mat. Who needs artisanal goat cheese when you have this?

This May, I wanted to sprawl across a cozy blanket in the park reading as many chapters of a buzzy novel as possible as the sun set overhead.

Instead, I broke up a throw-down fight over who got to eat their chicken nuggets off the orange plate at dinner. (There were tears.)

This May, I wanted to take a watercolor class, visit SFMOMA, and engage in other creativity-fostering activities that have been on my list for what feels like literal years.

Instead, I sat idly by as my child crawled across a dirty linoleum floor while I watched 30 kids I don’t know perform an off-key rendition of “The Bare Necessities” from The Jungle Book in an elementary school cafeteria. Just supporting the arts over here!!!

This May, I wanted to take a long, leisurely walk around our neighborhood in the mid-day sun while listening to a slew of podcasts I’ve had queued up for weeks.

Instead, I got to drive *back* to my son’s school after I dropped him off because I forgot it was Pajama Day for Spirit Week and I absolutely had to deliver his pair of shark jams before recess or risk ruining his life (and kindergarten clout).

This May, I wanted to spend a romantic evening out with my husband sipping fancy cocktails and dining at a new-to-us restaurant nearby.

Instead, I spent 15 minutes scraping the cheese off my son’s “sauce only” pizza in the Domino’s parking lot only to be told upon its arrival to the dinner table that it was “way too saucy!!!!” The rewards of motherhood never end!!

This May, I wanted to plan some kid-free time with friends, letting ourselves linger in adult conversation over hot coffee or a good meal.

Instead, I stole 27 minutes with a few friends at a kid’s birthday party—interrupted every 30 seconds by snack requests—before dragging my screaming three-year-old out because I wouldn’t let her have a White Claw.

But June is going to be great, right?!

Just living that open tab life! Here are a bunch of things that have been slowing my computer down to a snail’s pace:

• Rhubarb Coconut Drop Biscuits by the inimitable of ! (Determined to make these this weekend, will report back)

• Was super sad to find out that Whitebox Cocktails is only available in the UK. Sort of want to do a roundup/review of tiny-can-cocktails, would that be fun or nah?

• I bought these $18 shorts and they are very good! (And come in lots of colors.)

• Just very smitten with the idea of a grandparent/grandchild pen pal kit.

• For my gardening gals, there are lots of cute and quirky finds over at Plant Material.

• Listen, I’m not sure about the hefty $189 price tag, but I am very curious about the app Activations, which claims to “help you become the person you’ve always wanted to be.” See also: Forest, which somehow combines gamification, productivity and tree planting?

• I know we’re doing our damnedest to boycott Amazon when possible, but I really want to scoop up these $14 narrow cat eye sunglasses which look nearly identical to the $470 Saint Laurent version, spotted in the latest issue of . This tan tortoise with a grey lens from Quince is a fun take on the style, too.

• Loved of ’s post a fun person’s guide to real talk, all about how to skip the small talk and get other people to open up.

• 145 colorful home brands to know, love and shop from .

• I don’t really think I can pull off this trio of chunky charm necklaces, but kind of want to try?!

• Key lime pie with coconut biscoff crust, OKAY! (Love her tip to use 2 parts lime + 1 part meyer lemon for a key lime substitute.)

• Hotel Lobby’s Pride candle is back, and in addition to the fun iridescent design and a really interesting mix of scents—ginger, passionfruit, citrus—a portion of the proceeds goes to Family Equality, a nonprofit supporting LBGTQ+ families.

• This short video of tween girls dancing in the Arizona desert brought me so much joy this week! (And ICYMI, I wrote a piece on dance last week in the newsletter!)

• Local pals (and out-of-town visitors!): this new Russian River Valley camp resort and swim club, River Electric, is going to be our regular summer hangout, yeah?!

• A great explanation of why social support systems like Medicaid and SNAP are a crucial investment in kids’ futures.

• And a poem to leave you with: “The World Has Not Been Cruel to Him Yet” by (of and on Instagram @writtenbyallison)

I’ve also asked a few of my favorite bookstagrammers and Substackers to share the books they’re excited about this summer, and they came through in spades. One of the best parts about writing this newsletter is being in conversation with smart, thoughtful women, and I’m so grateful to be in community with them.

Please add any other books you’re excited about reading this summer in the comments - new releases, old favorites, novels you revisit every summer, or something from an author’s backlist! I’d love to hear what’s on your radar.

And if you missed my Spring Book Preview, be sure to check that out for another 10 books on the same themes (there’s some really good ones in there!)

In the Family Way by Laney Katz Becker

In 1965 America—where abortion is illegal, divorce is rare, and women are financially dependent on their husbands—Lily has just found out she’s pregnant with her second child. At her friend Becca’s suggestion, she takes in Betsy, a pregnant teen from a local home for unwed mothers—an arrangement meant to benefit them both. On the cusp of liberation, the trio grapples with complex feelings about being wives, mothers, and women with their own dreams and ambitions. Out June 3.

The River’s Daughter by Bridget Crocker

With comps to Wild and Educated, you know this is going to be a compelling memoir. Bridget’s story begins with a rocky childhood spent between California and Wyoming—her abusive father in the former and her spiraling mother in the latter. As she grows up, she takes solace in her steadfast companion, the Snake River—quickly becoming a world-class whitewater rafting guide. As she trained, she processed her trauma on the water, leading her to unite with her family and break generational cycles of poverty and abuse. This one is sure to be as gripping as it is inspiring. Out June 3.

A Family Matter by Claire Lynch

You may have heard the buzz about A Family Matter after being selected as a Read With Jenna book, but the plot does sound worthy of the honor: In 1982, a new, seemingly happy mom falls in love with a woman and her life is upended. 40 years later, the consequences of their partnership are uncovered by her grown daughter who has been in the dark all along. Expect equal parts hope and heartbreak from this one. Out June 3.

I’ll Tell You When I’m Home by Hala Alyan

What sounds like an incredibly layered memoir is told as Alyan awaits the birth of her child—being carried by a surrogate after many miscarriages—untangling her family’s past, her own Midwestern upbringing, and the many stories that lie between. The structure of the book is unique—Alyan is also a poet, after all!—and seems like it holds pages that could be lingered over, highlighted, and recited again and again. Out June 3.

The Girls Who Grew Big by Leila Mottley

This novel follows a group of teenage girls in Florida—banding together to make meaning of their lives, simultaneously navigating both girlhood and motherhood at once. Out June 24.

Spectacular Things by Beck-Dorey Stein

As two sisters unfurl their mother’s secret past, they find themselves examining their relationships to one another: what was given, what was taken, and how they move forward in light of their complicated history. Out July 1.

Everyone Is Lying to You by Jo Piazza

A tradwife influencer goes missing, just as her estranged college best friend is invited to profile the social media darling. This one has a little bit of everything: murder, friendship, and surely some searing cultural commentary from an author that does it so well. Out July 15.

L.A. Women by Ella Berman

The new novel by the author of Before We Were Innocent (A Reese’s Book Club pick) follows Gala, a charismatic socialite and writer in 1960s Los Angeles who has gone missing, and Lane, her once-friend and often rival from that time who has just sold a book based on Gala’s rise to stardom. Out August 5.

, author of the newsletter , shares the best mood-boosting recs and writings in each edition of her newsletter—I knew her summer reads would be thoughtful and inspiring. Here’s what she can’t wait to dive into:

“There are two books related to motherhood I'm excited to read: first, The Family Dynamic: A Journey into the Mystery of Sibling Success by Susan Dominus. I have one biological child and one adopted child, and I'm always intrigued by science and stories about "nature versus nurture," so I'm very interested in this exploration of why certain families produce multiple extraordinarily accomplished and successful individuals. Available now.

How To Lose Your Mother: A Daughter's Memoir by Molly Jong-Fast. I'm looking forward to reading this memoir about Jong-Fast's difficult childhood and complicated relationship with her mother, feminist icon Erica Jong, who was diagnosed with dementia in 2023. I love honest and unflinching accounts of mother-daughter relationships and will be looking for insight into managing my relationship with my mother, as she ages.” Out June 3.

, co-founder and author of the newsletter is well-versed in cultural commentary, and is always sharing smart recommendations in each issue, alongside her co-founder Aja Frost. I loved learning that she had a parenting-adjacent book on her summer TBR. Aliza notes:

“I'm looking forward to reading BoyMom: Reimagining Boyhood in the Age of Impossible Masculinity by Ruth Whippman. I'd been putting this one off for awhile - but after the recommendation of another friend - I finally picked up a copy of Whippman's highly esteemed book. As the mother of a young son (and one who only had a sister growing up), I find myself wrestling with questions around gender and social norms nearly every day. I'm looking forward to learning and finding further recognition and camaraderie in her words.” Available now.

, author of the newsletter and co-host of Bad on Paper with , knows a thing or two about can’t-miss novels; not only is every issue of her newsletter is a must-read for me, but she finds fun ways to discover books, like her book matchmaker series and a reader-sourced 100 best books of the century that rivals the NYT original. So what’s on her summer TBR? Becca says:

“Maggie; Or A Man and A Woman Walk into A Bar by Katie Yee. I recently devoured this book about a mother of two whose husband leaves her for another woman (named Maggie) and then discovers she has breast cancer (she also names her tumor Maggie). I know it sounds like a total bummer, but it's not! The writing reminded me of Catherine Newman (Sandwich; We All Want Impossible Things) with that hilarious in the face of awfulness tone. Bonus: there's a great side plot with her best friend and how she supports her through such a tough year.” Out July 22.

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Alex of @aallyoop_reads is a mom to two little kids and an avid reader (and a friend of mine from college!)—she always has great recs across genres, from romance to lit fic to thrillers. I will read anything Alex recommends! Here’s what she’s queuing up:

“After devouring Husbands and Lovers, I’m excited to read Beatriz Williams’ latest, Under the Stars. Her writing is perfection, and I love the layered historical fiction and romance elements. Her new book features family secrets, suspense and a mother-daughter quest to uncover a past legacy.” Out July 29.

@readswithrosie always has the best recommendations, especially in the literary fiction category (my favorite). Plus, she’s a mom to a toddler and a therapist, offering little glimpses into her world alongside her reading life—I always like to see what she’s up to (and what she’s reading!). She writes:

“One book that comes to mind that I really enjoyed is Sleep by Honor Jones, which explores the impact of trauma on identity and motherhood.

One I’m excited to read is Nesting by Irish writer Roisin O’Donnell. It explores a mother of two girls (and pregnant with their third baby) who escapes an abusive relationship.” (Both available now.)

Thank you so much to these amazing guest contributors - go follow them, subscribe, and keep up with all of the wonderful things they’re putting into the world!