I've always been one to keep it real. And for realz: motherhood has sucked the foodie and fashion fun out of my life. 100%.

To back up, I've been a stay at home mom now for over TWO years. Words I never imagined typing, much less living. I've been doing some consulting during that time. But, for all intents and purposes, I've been focused on raising my toddler, magical brilliant gorgeous unicorn that she is.



As any new-ish mama can tell you, it's been the best of times, it's been the worst of times. I've obviously adored getting to know my daughter, being there for every single milestone, growing into motherhood.



And yet it's been disorienting and isolating in ways I didn't expect. Your child's schedule becomes your schedule. Her friends' parents become your friends by default. Your life isn't your own anymore. You're always tired and never well-groomed.

Plus, I actually miss work; the identity intertwined with it, being part of a team, contributing financially to our family. Most of all, I miss writing. For nearly 15 years, I was paid to write. What a goddamn lucky bitch.

So, despite the true gift that this time with my child has been, I've felt lost, not myself, unsure. But I don't know if it's the new year, or the fact that she turned 3 and a half last week (to much fanfare!), but I've been feeling change in the air. Like a piece of myself that's been missing is about to make a return.

And on Friday, I realized what it might be: this blog. V and I had one of those perfect meandering agenda-free mornings. I was really present. And as I snapped dozens of photos per usual, I saw this blog post in my mind's eye. Just like I did when I used to blog daily.



Back then, I used to find the "hook" or "story" of the day, every day, and actually SEE the blog post in my head before I wrote it and laid it out. It was second nature to me back in the day. But I hadn't had that creative process happen in my head in months so it felt amazing. I felt like me again. That felt good.

So here goes. Just a little flexing of an old muscle starring the newest piggie fashionista in town, MY CHILD. I hope I can keep "seeing" the story of our days together.

Eggsluts R Us

Embarrassing confession: until Friday, I was an egg slut that had never been to eggslut.

In my defense, when it opened in 2011, I wasn't going downtown during the day often. Plus I didn't "do lines" (I thought I was famous.)

When it opened in Glendale a year ago, I sooooo wanted to be a slut for eggs but ugh Vivian. She eats everything EXCEPT sandwiches. FML. No point dealing with a two year old at a restaurant where she refuses to be in the same room with the house specialty.

Fast forward to last week, when I saw eggslut was opening at the Beverly Center. So close to us, so no excuse. I decided I was going on opening day, tiny human in tow, dammit.

But Friday came and my tiny overlord woke up WOKE, uninterested in trying anything new.  Ugh to toddlers who think their mothers are trying to poison them, amirate? I convinced her that bacon, her ride or die in life, would be available to her and she begrudingly relented.

We got to the Beverly Center and OMYGOD the parking was challenging with the construction! Especially for an early WEEK day morning. I immediately regretted my decision to do me.

It took a good 10 minutes but we found a spot. Pro tip: look for the elevators on the upper floors as some of the escalators are inoperable and if you are like me, creepy parking garage stairs are a nope. Even better pro tip: walk or park on the street until all the construction confusion is over.

Said elevators did have a new infinity room at the Broad vibe. Cool. I don't know if it's hundreds-of-millions-of-dollars-for-the-remodel-cool but it makes for a cute pic. Thanks, Bev Cen.



Inside eggslut, it was pretty and woodsy and trendy coffee shop in San Francisco where everyone is in on the joke except you vibe. Only a slight line (perfect) but had to wait for one of only three normal tables where my tiny person wouldn't fall off a high stool (#parentproblems).

Ordered for her:

For me:





Verdict: Mine was perfection. The soft eggs with chives were delicate. The spice was slight. It was VERY rich with the brioche. Might opt for the arugula instead of the bun next time.

Hers was basic bitch i.e. perfect for a toddler. She hovered it, one element at a time, never as a sandwich, god forbid. She is a carboholic and the bun was even a bit much for her. Coffee and OJ were better than expected, btw.

Ideal grab and go place, very New York. Perfect for the Cedars crowd just across the street. Wish I had had that option after giving birth to this beauty.



At one point, she said, "Let's come here every day, mama." Egg slut success!



As we were leaving, I plotted our next stop on the new Beverly Center pigging train:
Michael Mina's Cal Mare.



Won't be a hard sell. She loves her some "pish."




PART TWO OF MORNING NEXT
Florals: Dolce Gabbana v. H&M