This time tomorrow we’ll know where we’re moving or not moving. Match Day is almost here. My stomach is in knots. Finger nails crooked from biting. And hair messy from lack of care. But messy is cool, right? As soon as we find out the news, we plan on stuffing our faces with croissants from our favorite little bakery down the street. Hopefully in celebration and not in consolation. Monday I’ll be announcing our news in the form of a sweet treat. But if we don’t match, it may look more like coal. Whomp, whomp.  Read more

Kale Frittata | The Fauxmartha

Brunch potluck with the girls may be one of the best inventions yet. Sleep in until 9:30. Everyone’s in charge of bringing something. Fresh squeezed OJ. That’s what I call Saturday morning bliss. Read more