Big Batch Apricot Muesli | @thefauxmartha

“Thank you.” Tears began welling just above the lower lid of my eyes as we handed the bag of muesli to her. Today was the last day of “school” for Hallie. We made a mega batch of muesli that not every bowl, stock pot, or container in our kitchen could hold. It was our way of saying thank you. But that bag of oats and apricots would never ever touch the deep, deep sentiment we felt in our hearts. I don’t say thank you much, or enough. In fact, I can’t tell you the last time I wrote a thank you card. It’s embarrassing. I never expect it myself, and when it’s given to me, I awkwardly change the subject.  Read more

Granola Bars | @thefauxmartha

“Be somebody who makes everybody feel like a somebody.” —Kid President

I need to tattoo this to the inside of my hand. Most days I’m just making sure I feel like a somebody. We have two mirrors in our tiny apartment—one that’s covered in so much dust I don’t have to worry about the reflection as I pass. The other, in the bathroom, I quickly skirt by until the end of the day. That’s when I usually catch a glimpse of the disheveled person walking by. Read more

Toasted Oatmeal Ice Cream | The Fauxmartha

This time last year we were driving up the coast of Connecticut, Massachusetts, and Maine on a babymoon thinking parenthood can’t possibly be as hard as they say. My, my, my how different a year can look. Read more

The very, very best oatmeal | The Fauxmartha

At best, I tolerate warm oatmeal in the winter (although baked oatmeal is a different story). No matter how I make it, it turns into a thick gummy paste better suited as an adhesive agent than an edible meal. It absorbs brown sugar faster than the leading paper towel. And its curb appeal is far from slam-on-your-breaks. I hate the last bite or every bite for that matter. It’s only out of obligation to my heart and hips that I eat it. Read more

Simple Peach Crisp | The Fauxmartha

I was hoping to post a picture of a cute swaddly little girl this week. She decided to keep cooking. So instead, you’ve got peach crisp. It’s not nearly as cute. I apologize. But it’s equally as good. It’s gestation period is only 30 minutes which beats the whole 9 month thing. Crisp, you win this week. Baby, I guess this means you win too.  Read more

We made our first trek to NYC this weekend. It was glorious. But it started with an alarm at 5:45 am. A walk to the train in the pouring rain. And a two hour train ride. Wishful thinking—I thought we lived closer to the city. Read more

Summers are meant to be simple. And light. And easy. And fresh.

They’re meant to press snooze one too many times. To stay up too late. To make new friendships and foster old ones. They’re meant to lose yourself. And find yourself all over again. Read more