Monday, Monday: August 10, 2026

The 18th birthday of this blog is next week. It’s wild to think about 26-year-old me, sitting on her rust-colored couch, drinking water from an oversized wine goblet, working on a laptop that weighed as much as a kettle bell, writing the first Capitol Hill Style Post. But as I consider what the future of CHS looks like — as a lawyer and a mother in her 40s — I’ve been thinking about the past, and how to bring some of the life back to these digital pages.

Monday, Monday is a recap of last week and look forward to next week. Let’s get started.

Heat. Last Saturday, an enormous urban fire, destroyed a significant portion of Spokane, and displaced one-fifth of the city’s residents for a full week. Thousands of people lost their homes. Because we weren’t directly impacted, we spent the week trying to help with the recovery and keep Sloane’s life as normal as possible, while trying to explain to a toddler why it was so smoky and why some of her teachers were missing from school.

You usually can’t decipher what your kids are learning from you in the moment — but yesterday, after we unpacked the tiara I bought her to wear to her birthday party, she told me that since she now had two tiaras, we should give one to the kids who lost their toys in the fire. Teaching a child that they belong to a community (and have obligations to it) is a real challenge, so it warmed my heart to see that some of these lessons are landing. We are heading to Target on Wednesday to pick up gift cards and new toys for impacted kids so that Sloane can experience giving something away to help others.

I spent part of the weekend volunteering with World Central Kitchen delivering meals to survivors and first responders. Kyle and I donated some new and gently used clothing to Spokane Public Schools employees who needed business attire for the school year, which starts in just over two weeks. We also cancelled our planned trip to Post Hotel, and donated the funds to a handful of GoFundMe pages and local charities. This will be a long recovery, so I’m waiting to direct readers who are interested in donating until we have a better picture of the road ahead.

Catalog Dreams. The Me + Em catalog showed up at my house last week and it is a must read. This blue tweed jacket with a chocolate brown blouse is the stuff dreams are made of. The price, not so much. The sale section is a little more my speed — this short sleeve jacket and this striped linen dress — caught my eye. I would wear nothing but this brand for the rest of my life. Nothing.

Rings and Things. Every other week, we go out for a “fancy dinner date” with Sloane. She puts on a pretty dress, and a tiara or sparkly headband, and we take her out for dinner. Last week, I took Sloane to the restroom at one of our favorite restaurants, and before washing my hands, I took off my “wedding rings.” When I remembered my mistake 10-minutes later, they were gone from the counter.

This, ladies, is why I don’t wear my real wedding rings. I wear more affordable, easily replaceable nice rings. I am trying to decide if I repurchase exactly what I had — the thin dome ring from Mejuri, and its diamond-encrusted twin — or look for something else. I’ve been eyeing this triple stack from David Yurman for a while, and it comes in smaller sizes. Perhaps I’ll sit on this decision for a minute, but it feels strange to be running around without wedding rings on.

Sleeping In. Sloane is trying to give up her nap. My life is built on the 90-minute break every afternoon — it’s when I pick up the house, go for a walk, or just sit in the quiet — and soon it will be over. But as sad as I am for the loss of this respite, it also means that my baby, with her blonde curls and soft giggle, is becoming a kid. A real kid. I am bereft.

Painted On. I have always hated baby pink nails. I know OPI Bubble Bath is popular, maybe their most popular shade, but it is not for me. This week, I gave OPI’s Put it in Neutral, a beige pink, a try, and it’s perfect — sheer, shiny, a hint of pink. A great choice for women whose jobs mean that the opportunities to wear bold colors are limited.

Never Forget.

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