We started the weekend with a date night, and started that date night at Pizzeria Uno, mostly because we heard that you get a deal on your movie tickets if you eat at Pizzeria Uno first. As it turns out, the deal was for a different movie theater than the one we were planning to go to (we saw The Cabin in the Woods - loved it), but that’s fine, because the end result was that we got to eat Pizza Skins (pizza crust filled with mashed potatoes, bacon, cheese, and sour cream). Which are terrible. And also great.

We spent the rest of the weekend with Kendrick’s parents, who drove in from Ohio to stay in Tarrytown for the weekend (we took the MetroNorth up to meet them).

Obviously lots of shoulders were ridden on.

We stopped in for dinner at the Striped Bass - it’s a great place to have dinner if you’re doing a Tarrytown day trip, because a) it’s so right-on-the-water that you feel almost like you’re in a beach town, and b) it’s about six feet from the train station, so you can hang out on the deck with a beer up until pretty much the second before you’re scheduled to depart.

Long day trips make for some zoned-out rides home.

On Sunday morning we got all ready to head back up the river, but arrived at Grand Central to discover a total mob scene (above that’s where we hid out while we figured out what was going on). What was going on was that no trains had entered or left Grand Central since seven o’clock that morning - why, I have no idea, but we were going nowhere. 

So we gave up, and Kendrick’s parents drove in to meet us for brunch at Johnny Foxes (very affordable, decent menu with options that range from standard to vaguely interesting), where we discovered the wonder that is a Yo Gabba Gabba episode played on an iPad when Mom and Dad are trying to eat.

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The other day, I decided to take Indy on the subway by myself for the very first time.

In the rain.

At rush hour.

This, as you can imagine, was a terrible, horrible idea. Had there not been a seven-foot-tall guy (who very much resembled Clark Kent, just saying) who swooped in and lifted the stroller through the crowds, I would have just given up and taxi-ed it back home.

Lesson learned: the carrier is the way to go when I’m on my own. When it’s all three of us adventuring off somewhere, however, baby-on-subway is rather fun (he loves it).

And so on Sunday, for Indy’s half-birthday, we took him to Carroll Gardens for a little eating-and-toy-shopping.

I’ve written about Char No. 4 before; they’re very much a foodie-heaven place, but what I really love about them is a) the little enclosed sunroom area in the back, b) the fact that they’re extremely nice and accommodating about babies (we chose the place because last time we went there I was pregnant, and we noticed lots of couples with small children), and c) they allow me to have the pickle that comes in the Bloody Mary without actually ordering the Bloody Mary (both when pregnant, and when not).

If you go, get the pancakes. Do ittttt.

After lunch we stopped into a little place called Mongo, and I thought very seriously about buying one of these incredible oversized balls of yarn before remembering that all I really know how to make are baby blankets, and we’re all full up on those.

I like this picture.

I also like this one. My two little Zoolanders.

Since it was such a gorgeous day and I had to fulfill this prediction, we stopped into Gowanus Yacht Club before heading home.

Above, I’m wearing two of my new favorite things: Ippolita earrings that were an early Mother’s Day gift from the company (I love lapis and used to have an incredible pair of vintage lapis earrings, but Lucy secreted them away somewhere many apartments ago), and a vintage denim jacket with knit sleeves that I found at Urban Outfitters.

This was our Sunday brunch: a tomato, bufala mozzarella and basil scramble.

And this was our Sunday: rainy day-ing it around the house and trying things on for size.

Playing with some half-birthday presents. The usual.

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The bits of our day in Chinatown that didn’t make it into Episode 2…including pants-free attire, lobster intimidation, and hidden cameras.

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This was amazing.

Seriously.

I’ve done a few adventure-seeking-ish things in my life (bungee jumping, hangliding, riding motorcycles, scuba diving)…but this one was definitely among my favorites.

The Coney Island Polar Bear Club, for those of you who don’t know, is one of many communities nationwide that have formed around a shared love for wintertime swimming. Going into this, let me assure you: I was not particularlyexcited. I just thought it would make a fun little completely non-decor-related add-on to the segment.

And when I found out that the water temperature on Sunday was 49 - much warmer than it usually is in early April, but still: check out this chart to see how long you can survive in water that cold (hint: not long) - I ramped up my whining to the point where Kendrick considered hopping into a different subway car.

As it turns out, though, there is a community of die-hard winter bathers for a reason: it feels incredible (above, that’s me doing my very best glamour shot post-swim…and now not-miserable do I look?!). It’s cold, but when there’s a bunch of people around you with enormous smiles on their faces, it’s hard not to smile, too.

And this was weird: I spent the whole speedy trot down to the water shivering and shaking and panicking a bit…and then was warm as if it was midsummer on the slow ramble back up. No dashing inside to grab my clothes. No goosebumps, no misery, no shaking like a leaf on the windy beach…nothing. Just total bliss.

I didn’t even need my towel.

(Like I said: weird.)

Plus, it’s just a fact: the kinds of people willing to mosey on out to the beach in the middle of the winter just for the privilege of hopping in the water are definitely the kind of people I want to spend my Sunday with. It’s a members-only club that permits guests, but they’re so welcoming, and I didn’t feel self-conscious or nervous for a second…not even when I was doing jumping-jacks in a circle on the beach or holding hands with total strangers in the water for a primal scream or two.

Try it. Seriously. (Well…there are two swims left this season, so you may not be able to swing it, but keep it in mind for next season.)

I think I figured out what I’ll be doing next New Year’s Day.

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As it turns out, everyone in our family enjoys a day off spent in the company of Jon Stewart.

(Fridays are so much fun when Dad tags along for lunch.)

We met up with some family members at Quatorze Bis, on the UES, for “Passover” dinner (as in, we used Passover as a nice excuse to get together and eat French food).

Quatorze Bis is somewhere I was initially skeptical of - NY Mag describes it as a place where “Joan Didion rubs shoulders with Erica Jong,” and it all sounded a bit too polished for me - but once night falls the place takes on a lovely, mellow atmosphere, and the classic bistro dishes (I had the house specialty half chicken with herbs and goat cheese salad) are great.

We spent Saturday morning taking some family photos with Ari Moshayedi (who took some of our very favorite pics for us shortly after Indy was born)…

…and then I headed up the Hudson again to look at more blossoms, this time in the backyards of houses we were considering. (Pretty garden, right?)

On Sunday, we shot a segment in Coney Island (Kendrick was the guest videographer, it being Easter Sunday and all). He wore his favorite custom Converse, and I wore…

…a bathing suit. In April. More on this in a mo’. (The suit, by the way, is Huit.)

This was fun.

Oh, and Kendrick won us a new family member. I am afeared he is not long for this world, but am doing my very best to perk the little guy up.

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Including train dancing and trying not to make little girls cry.

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What is this madness?

Seriously, what is that completely bizarre outfit I’m wearing up there (for Saturday’s day trip with the family)?

I’ll tell you.

When Kendrick and I met, I was living in Los Angeles, and he was living in New York. And after a few weeks of flying back and forth to see each other, we decided to spend a night in Vegas.

I totally knew he was going to propose.

I know, that sounds crazy - we had been dating for all of six weeks, and neither of us had even broached the idea (obviously). He didn’t even know he was going to propose - it just happened, and we had to go buy a ring at a pawn shop the next day. And it’s not like people go around proposing to me as a matter of course, so there wasn’t a whole lot of precedent there.

But I knew he was going to. Because we just made so much sense together.

And so I wanted to look special for our night in Vegas, and I borrowed this dress from Francesca - it was a vintage cream lace minidress with 3/4-length sleeves, and was (I thought) equal parts romantic and sexy. (I cropped that photo from the night we got engaged weirdly because Kendrick has demon-eyes in it, and as you can see the red-eye reduction tool isn’t my friend. Neither was the brownish-red hair I had at the time, but that’s another story.)

Anyway, Francesca let me keep the dress, partially because she’s really nice but also partially because the thing was disintegrating, and so in the years since I’ve always kept an eye out for something similar that I can wear more often without fear of it coming apart. And the other day, in H&M…I found it.

Except it was purple. And two sizes too small for me.

And so this is how I dealt with that. Plaid shirt over, tights under, and a healthy dose of looking-kinda-weird-and-not-really-caring.

Oh, and boots. Big, silver boots. Why not?

(I think, by the way, that this dress can be worn slightly less oddly in the summer, with a loose white button-down and metallic flats. But for now, this will do.)

On me: French Connection leather jacket, Kendrick’s Ray Bans, Old Navy shirt, H&M dress, boots c/o Dr. Martens, Forever 21 hoop earrings, Kenneth Cole camera bag.

And some lace dresses for you:

Product info after the jump.

L to R: TopShop ($72), Oasis ($145), Quiksilver ($64.50), ModCloth ($95), Dorothy Perkins ($44), TopShop ($96), H&M ($24.50)

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Remember how I told you I met Jason Priestley once? And sort of lost my mind?

Well, on Sunday I dressed up like his girlfriend from the 90210 days. (The first one, kids. It was television perfection.)

I mean…kinda, right?

I feel like this is the sort of outfit that would be worn by the new girl who just started working as a photographer at the school paper, and who makes Andrea super-jealous when she’s given the assignment of taking Brandon’s picture for an editorial and he asks her to go to the Peach Pit with him that night and they end up making out, except they don’t go too far because Brenda catches them. And then they date for a few weeks, until Brandon discovers that the New Girl’s family is hiding from a terrible tragedy in their past that ultimately forces them to move to Alaska or Indonesia, and Brandon swears he’ll always love her, and they have lots of teary kisses and then she drives off into the sunset in her flowery dress and cardigan.

Which is all to say, this is more than a little bit ’90s, don’t you think?

I like it.

I’m pretty excited to wear that dress solo with sandals once it starts warming up around these parts.

Winter, go ‘way. Brandon Walsh’s girlfriend says so.

On me: Forever 21 cardigan, dress c/o dee&ray, H&M tights, Aldo Roder shoes, Juicy Couture sunglasses, Kenneth Cole camera bag, necklace c/o Chloe & Isabel, Sasha Rhett watch.

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So today is my due date.

Or at least it’s one of the three due dates that I’ve been given over the past few months. And apparently only 5% of women actually give birth on their due date. Which is all to say: I have some pork shoulder sitting in the slow-cooker right now, and I fully expect to be eating it right here in the apartment when 8PM rolls around.

But back to the weekend!

Egg-and-cheese sandwiches played a starring role.

There are a few things that you can do to make an egg-and-cheese sandwich extra-phenomenal, and they are these:

1. Butter both pieces of bread.

2. Keep the egg a little runny, a la the above photo.

3. Use decent-quality cheese (I did not; such things happen…but if you can, you should).

We spent Saturday up along the Hudson River again looking at houses (this time we started out in Tarrytown but looked mostly at places further north, where the vibe is a little more relaxed and you get way more for your money in exchange for a slightly longer train ride to the city).

Above is the view (with a tiny slice of river) from my favorite of the places we viewed. Can you imagine?!

After looking at ten or so houses, I was DONE…

…so we stopped for truly spectacular hot dogs at Lubins & Links, in Tarrytown, before heading back to the city.

I perked up (sort of) to head over to a Yom Kippur party at our friends’ house, but our budding gymnast had other plans for me (namely, “please taxi your butt home and onto the couch so I can practice my floor routine in peace”), so we only ended up staying for a little bit. Long enough to eat, obviously.

(Those, by the way, are my new favorite footwear - the Nine West Camelot boots you saw in this post.)

Sunday I spent baking.

And baking.

And baking.

Click here for the recipe for Banana-Walnut Bread, and here for Orange-Poppyseed Loaf Cake with Chocolate-Chip Glaze.

One more thing we did this weekend:

An Experiment That Did Not Work.

We’ve heard that there are various things that can help to move labor along, and eating spicy food is one of them (and one of the few that can be shown on-camera)…so while I suspect that this is a bit (or a lot) of an Old Wives’ Tale, there’s nothing wrong with trying, right? Unfortunately, while a little heat in my food is something I’ll occasionally permit, I think the goal here is major, head-clearing, sweat-inducing spiciness…and to achieve this effect, Kendrick chose a dish that I seriously do not enjoy: extra-spicy Kung Pao Chicken doused with Sriracha.

Witness the magic for yourself (there’s some “colorful” language in here, as a heads-up for those of you with virgin ears or delicately-constitutioned coworkers):

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