All The Things, November 2023
Plus, compassion for babies crying on airplanes
We’re on a five-hour flight and the toddler across the aisle from us is crying again. Shrieking, more like it. I am watching the family—mom, dad, grandma, grandpa—pass her back and forth between two rows, failing to console her despite multiple attempts. She does not want snacks, or coloring books, or any of the seventeen toys they have carefully packed. And she definitely does not want to wear her seatbelt.
“That girl is still crying,” Carson whispers to me, looking up from his video game for a split second.
“I know, babe,” I whisper back.
The irony is not lost on me that I am sitting next to him, that he is the one to comment on the crying child. Seven and a half years ago, we were on this same flight path in reverse, while Carson, who was eighteen months old at the time, screamed and cried for—this is not an exaggeration—the entire five hours.
I never thought I would fly again. (Or at least, with kids.)
I remind him of this story. He has no memory of it, of course. No memory of me walking him up and down the aisles, nursing him what felt like thirty times, shushing him desperately, sweating my brains out, while my face burned red and everyone stared at us.
“They should really buy everyone a drink,” some guy smirked to my sister-in-law, not realizing she was related to the flustered parents of the inconsolable child.
My blood still boils when I think of that comment.
I look at Carson now, nine years old and all gangly limbs, holding a Nintendo switch in his hands and sipping carefully on a Sprite he poured himself. He has barely said a word on the flight, rotating time between reading Percy Jackson and playing video games. He helps himself to the snacks in his backpack when he gets hungry, and responsibly saves his lollipops for take-off and landing.
Meanwhile, the family across from us is taking turns walking the toddler, who I learn is named Lorelai, up and down the aisles. She is pleased as punch to finally be waddling back and forth, spying on each row. I look up from the episode of The Crown streaming on my phone, to smile at her. She smiles back and keeps toddling.
At the end of the flight, we are forced to sit on the plane for an extra ten minutes before we’re allowed to disembark. Everyone is hot and anxious to put their feet on the ground. I smile at the parents, the grandparents, sweet little Lorelai, fighting the urge to say something condescending like, “You did it!”
Instead, I look at Lorelai and tell her I like her shoes. I ask her if she’s ready to get off the plane. She nods, and I say, “Me, too.”
We all part ways after that, them with a stroller and diaper bag and no doubt more stuff than us—even though we have 3x the number of children as them. Carson walks next to me toward the baggage claim and I thank him for being my seat mate.
My, how the times have changed. That miserable flight feels like it happened 100 years ago, but I have not forgotten. The memory haunts me every single time I hear a crying baby on a plane.
And I guess I just wanted to offer that up as a friendly reminder to smile at all the frazzled parents the next time you hear the same. ❤️
And now, onto the links!
PSA: Yearly subscriptions are 50% off for
through the end of the weekend! I don’t do paid subscriptions on my personal Substack, but make no mistake: when you support C+C, you support me, too.Currently reading and/or just finished: Congratulations, Who Are You Again? (highly recommend for writers & dreamers), Women, Work, and Calling (written by my friend, congrats Joanna!), The Bright Hour (honestly loved this more than I thought I would, given the topic), Yours, Truly (easy breezy romcom, v. enjoyable), Talking At Night (finished in 24 hours), and, thanks to the free audiobook on Spotify Premium, The Woman In Me (I have many thoughts, most of them sad).
Related: my friend Dorina recently published a journal on grief, and I think this would be a beautiful gift for anyone grieving, especially during the holidays.
Is it just me, or are the Black Friday deals starting earlier and earlier? I tend to get overwhelmed this time of year with All! The! Sales!—but I always remember something Erin Loecher wrote in Chasing Slow: it’s not a sale if you don’t need it.
My preference is to write in complete and utter silence, but when quiet is not available to me, headphones & this playlist are working well in crowded coffee shops / my own chaotic house.
I desperately needed these words by my friend
. Maybe you do, too?File this under: Christmas MVP from 2022. Presley got a Toniebox last Christmas and she has officially fallen asleep listening to this for almost 365 straight days. We LOVE THIS THING.
Looking for a good advent study? Look no further.
When it comes to clothes, I tend to opt for quality over quantity, although I’d say I have something like champagne taste on a canned cocktail budget. My general shopping mantra is buy the best brand you can afford. AKA: I buy a lot of Nordstrom brands via the Rack, and a lot of designer brands via secondhand. I very rarely buy clothes from Target or Amazon, BUT, I recently broke that rule with two purchases I was surprisingly happy with. 1) I bought this coatigan from Amazon and the influencers weren’t lyin’: it’s an excellent dupe for the J. Crew version. 2) If you’re looking for a budget-friendly staple black dress, this one is fantastic (love the sheer sleeves and pockets!)—pair with a belt around the middle, a pretty satin hair bow, and voila!
Speaking of dresses, I picked this sparkly number up at Nordstrom Rack as part of my “wear more color in 2024” goal:
Is orange the new beige? TBD. I’ll be wearing this to all holiday festivities.
Shameless plug: the uber talented graphic designer who is helping me create the Coffee + Crumbs magazine (COMING SOON!!!) has a hospitality podcast called Always Invited and I was honored to be a guest on her show.
My not-so-secret love of Crocs knows no bounds. Wish these came in my size, but they’ll look great on Presley.
Thanksgiving throwback: she always brought the dinner rolls.
She’s my best friend and I’m biased because I love every single thing she writes, but this essay by
is beautiful and honest and heartbreaking and full of nuance and grace, which is everything good writing should be: What do you do with a wedding dress? and other questions about divorce“I don’t know anything about raising girls. I am only learning how to parent this one. And what I’m learning is that sometimes when my daughter gets overly emotional, what she needs most is for her mom to stay in the room. To draw closer, not pull back. It sounds too good to be true—that 10 minutes in the kitchen could redeem a multitude of meltdowns—but sometimes it really is that simple. We made banana bread. We forgot the rest.”
She wants to write a poem. Brilliant.
Okay, okay, one more shameless plug: I wrote a book about motherhood and creativity and perhaps it would make a beautiful Christmas gift for the mother-artists in your life? Grab it anywhere books are sold: Target | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Bookshop | Baker Book House | Christianbook
Photo by Sasha Pahl
That’s all I’ve got. What are you reading? Wearing? Cooking? Watching?
Tell me all your things!
Thank you for writing this and sharing it TODAY. I needed it TODAY. It feels like I barely survived the hours with our two month old son, who currently is scream crying 80% of the time that he is awake, for no apparent reason. We have one older daughter, so part of me knows this stage is temporary. But somehow hearing you describe the stage your son is at was the balm my heart needed right now. Thank you for this vision of the future. Thank you for these sparkles of hope.
I feel this deeply! Thank you for writing about it! It’s disheartening that their seems to be little allowance for children and young families to exist in public. Thank you for your empathy and showing hope for the future to those of us that are in the present of this airplane ride.
Also, I cannot wait for the magazine!