Theeeerrre heeerrre!

My daughter hovers around the KOm PU terr and wants to always watch mooobies but this one ain't built for toddlers. The red light on the underside of the mouse is blinding! Those pretty keyboard buttons? Not washable. And the screen? One could make a positive identification from the tiny fingerprints formed by enthusiastic pointing and drool. We are trying the VTech Mobigo from Santa which was built for overzealous interaction so we shall see how that goes. But I also just heard about Dell's Touchscreen Inspiron.  Maybe Santa will bring me one.

Making a holiday memory

My mother managed to hold on to a little tiny 5 loop paper garland that I made with my grandmother - wow- probably 35 years ago? (shudder) It's amazing the thing lasted (did they even have paper back then? not just chalkboards? Didn't we have to walk 3 miles in the snow uphill with a nickel to buy one piece of special green paper? - I may be taking some artistic license with that story because it sounds interestingly a lot like the stories MY parents told and it's a little more probable that their's are accurate.)

Anyhow, the thing survived and I thought the idea was a great one for my daughter and I.  She's 2 so it's a project that isn't immediately dangerous (like stringing lights or popcorn - needles and electricity = No good.) So she creates the designs and I cut the strips.  We ended up with a beautiful, unique keepsake decoration for Nana's tree (us apartment dwellers use plants or flowers in place of actual Evergreens) that hopefully will last until my little girl can repeat the project with her children.

Craftastic Halloween Spread

We had a last-minute Halloween party sneak up on us.  No, not like in a fun, Hitchcockian way (I wonder if anyone has ever made that word up and used it in a sentence like I just did) but in a hurry-up-and-look-properly-festive kind of way.  Baby Z's cousin lives in Queens so they wanted to come out to our neighborhood for trick-or-treating. Not sure what that says about Queens but, we loved the idea of the cousins joining forces for some candy hunting.  So we added another kid to the list and his parents and their in-laws in town, and they told their friends, and so on and so on... and all of a sudden, without any prep time, I'm running around like a deranged bat out of hell (in a bathrobe no less) vacuuming and baking with 30 minutes before guests are due to arrive.  I managed to scare up (I know, I just rolled my eyes too) some decorations and dug out a strand of little lights. But flaked on what Halloween treats to serve.  I do have an old standby: the pumpkin chocolate chip cookie, which, by the way, is ah-maaazing.  But seeing as how the main objective of the day was to acquire absurd amounts of candy and sugar, I needed a non-sugar, festive appetizer that contained some protein to balance out the carb overload.  I found it. Cheese!  And pumpkin shaped.  And really easy to make.   Isn't she cute?! 

Here's the recipe from Allrecipes.com:

Shape the Cheddar and cream cheese mixture into the shape of a small pumpkin and add a broccoli stem to serve as the stem. Serve with fresh apple wedges for an autumn appetzier.

Yield: 16 servings

Ingredients

• 2  (8-ounce) blocks extra-sharp Cheddar cheese, shredded
• 1  (8-ounce) package cream cheese, softened
• 1  (8-ounce) container chive-and-onion cream cheese
• 2  teaspoons  paprika
• 1/2  teaspoon  ground red pepper
• 1  broccoli stalk
• Red and green apple wedges

Preparation

Combine Cheddar cheese and next 4 ingredients in a bowl until blended. Cover and chill 4 hours or until mixture is firm enough to be shaped.

Shape mixture into a ball to resemble a pumpkin. Smooth entire outer surface with a frosting spatula or table knife. Make vertical grooves in ball, if desired, using fingertips.

Cut florets from broccoli stalk, and reserve for another use. Cut stalk to resemble a pumpkin stem, and press into top of cheese ball. Serve cheese ball with apple wedges.

Note: To make ahead, wrap cheese ball in plastic wrap without stalk, and store in refrigerator up to 2 days. Attach stalk before serving.

I'm just a girl

Baby Zee went to a birthday party yesterday. I just loved this beautiful face-painting that the artist from Artscetera did.  My baby looks so exotic with that bindi.  By the time she's old enough to understand / care who Gwen Stefani is, she probably won't understand OR care who Gwen Stefani WAS.  Still super cute.

Does anyone need a baby shower because I'd like to make these

I was wandering around the interweb and stumbled upon "everyday chick" - from Perth, Australia :)  I had to share this lovely picture from her blog - aren't these adorable?! 

Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic New Mother: The Wonder Years

I sat down to try to unload some of the angst and pain and unsettling (read: probably hormonal. thanks a lot, stereotypes) response I experienced when spending 3 days alone with my 2 year old. I wanted to think I'd enjoy my 'girls day' and imagined us skipping and playing and smiling and hugging, but in reality, a 2 year old has endless energy, endless interest (eeeeverything is "kewl!") and endless desire for everything now, with a cookie, and no PJs. So my semi obsessive compulsive need to keep things clean and in order, is obviously clashing with disastrous results. I'm trying to ease up, not sweat the small stuff, but if I let it all go, I just end up cleaning up and cooking etc at midnight while everybody else sleeps. The anxiety builds and by day's end I'm a wreck. And it's not easy to parent while one is busy being a miserable wreck. Nobody likes a wreck. Anyhow, so I was wandering around some blogs and like a beacon in the night, I found this recent post. As if I'd written it myself. So, my answer is: "What she said." Thank you!!

Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic New Mother: The Wonder Years: "It's hard this parenting lark. And I'm not sure I am any good at it. My husband just came home from work. I was feeding our daughter and as..."

Lullabyes

Back when Zoe was in utero, we used to talk to each other. Sometimes at night while falling asleep, sometimes on the train home from work. It was comforting. I also started singing to her. I made up songs and I changed the lyrics of others. I wanted to sing something soothing and beautiful - a simple melody with words that reflected the family waiting for her, the world we'd explore, little sparrows and fluffy bunnies and sparkling raindrops .... not 'and when the bow breaks, the cradle will fall...!  WTF?!  Jeez.  Did the people who write lullabies stop after 1940? And why were lullabies so violent? And why does that one continue to survive decade after decade??  Anyhow, so I remember a song from CYO Camp Christopher "Kumbaya."  I had to look up the melody on You Tube (and no, You Tube is never scary) but realized there aren't many lyrics to remember.  It's basically "Kumbaya My Lord, Kumbaya."  So I added a few lines that I change up and rotate depending on the night and it becomes my way to end the day with Zoe. Our little prayer together. 

Kumbaya My Lord, Kumbaya...

Help her rest, My Lord, Kumbaya.  Help her rest, My Lord, Kumbaya. 

Basically you can add anything with 3 syllables:  Bless this child; Keep her safe; Help her heal.

My other favorite, and, ahem, it's an original ;) Is a great way to run through the names of our family so Zoe thinks of each one regularly and becomes familiar with their names even if they live far away.  

It goes like this:

"Mama loves you and Daddy loves you; It's time to go to sleep.

Nana loves you and Bapa loves you; It's time to go to sleep.

Auntie Jana loves you and Uncle Jason loves you; It's time to go to sleep."

Etc.

If I had any idea how to indicate the melody or even the major notes, I'd do it. But I hated my piano classes when I was 13.  I could kick myself now.

Nina Garcia, Maternity leave, and the dillweed planet.

I love Project Runway and had only merely listened half-heartedly to Nina Garcia's critiques - until now.  She's a high - powered exec at a great magazine AND she's also a judge on Project Runway, AND she has a 3 year old son - AND now she's pregnant with her second child AND (last one, I promise) she's 45! She's probably not up to a-level J-Lo celebrity status in order to command a team of helpers so my guess is she and her husband are doing this on their own (with a nanny and daycare.) But we all know that the behind-the-scenes, in the dark of 4am, way before help arrives, is the most trying and taxing part of the equation: How to get oneself dressed, feed family and arrive at work looking alive, rested and enthusiastic - now THAT's the challenge. Doing this at any age isn't easy but, I have to admit, personally, I get the feeling it might have been a bit easier in my younger years so for Nina to do this at 45 is a huge undertaking. And don't forget the emotional impact. Leaving 2 babies at home or in daycare can be excruciating!  Women are pulled apart daily by the emotional and financial impact of childrearing and yet we contribute just as much (read: if not more) to business and humanity than the male contingent.  States and local governments also don't recognize our sacrifices. (Read this about how you can still get fired for going on maternity leave!) We are made to feel guilty and treated as if we spend our maternity leaves lounging and eating bon-bons.  But when will the rest of humanity realize that the human race will perish without children??  Women aren't taking maternity leaves to take up a hobby or get tattooed, WE ARE RAISING THE CHILDREN THAT ARE THE FUTURE OF THE PLANET, you dillweeds.   I fortunately, had a fairly understanding work environment that allowed me to work from home my last week of pregnancy and also take 30 minutes twice a day to pump since I was breastfeeding. I did take 3 months off but, like every other mother -only in the US! - it was unpaid.  I do applaud Aflac for offering an additional type of insurance for what society has declared a 'disability' - that's how pregnancy and maternity leave are categorized by medical and insurance companies: a disability. I'm pretty sure anyone who has had the privilege of being pregnant and giving birth to a beautiful life, and sustaining that little life fully and completely with your own breastmilk, would disagree that this is a 'disability.'  Don't forget that ever single one of you lawmakers had a mother too and without her, you wouldn't be here.

Bracelet inspiration

Am sporting my new awesome bracelet from my sister-in-law today. Sometimes matchy-matchy works and I'm totally into it right now.  I've had this dress for a couple years and always wore it with a brown leather belt, chunky wooden earrings, etc etc - things along that line.  Then I got this bracelet and it just... tied it all together. Sigh. I like it when the planets align and outfits fall into place.  Of course, it's hard to remember these moments when my normal morning dress-myself routine consists of digging through my wardrobe in the dark (can't wake the HB and the baby) with a toothbrush hanging out of my mouth, while wearing a towel and a wristwatch (constantly reminding me I'm late.)  So, a nice little take away from today's lesson is:  start with the jewelry and then build the outfit around it.  If that doesn't work, go back to bed. Start over.

The end of the innocence

I just celebrated (is that even the right word?) my 40th birthday. I'm not one to go around saying I'm 39 for the next 10 years. I've accepted the number. I'm fine with it overall. But I wondered when and if the introspection that usually accompanies such a milestone would hit me.  It's starting to seep in now, in and around my daily routine that usually, conveniently blocks out all serious thought.  It started with a song on the radio. A radio - not on iPod or Pandora radio or iTunes shuffle, but a good old fashioned battery powered radio. "Remember when the days were long, and rolled beneath the deep blue sky; Didn't have a care in the world with mommy and daddy standin' by..." I started thinking about those long summer days with nothing to do. The summer seemed endless with fireflies at night, baseball games, working at the state fair, cookouts, riding bikes, fireworks, the sweet smell of strawberries from my Mom's garden.. .  I started thinking about 20 vs 40, who I was then and who I am now.  When is the end of the innocence? College (I have no idea. I was having too much fun!) Does it happen with that first real job? The one where you wake up one morning, a year into your tenure and realize "I'm on a hamster wheel? Is this it?'  or is it when you get married or have a child? I don't know when I lost my innocent, possibly naive, free spirit. Probably when I had to start filing my own paperwork (bills, taxes, medical etc) Kinda difficult to be punk rock and spontaneous but still file by April 15. I used dye my hair pink with Manic Panic. I actually had a 'real' job that appreciated and somewhat expected that 'flair' (the record business was so much fun back when it really had a 'business.')

In a way it's such a shame that that beautiful freedom of youth is wasted on us when we're really too young to appreciate it, but how could anything be that beautiful to anyone if it wasn't the first time you experienced it?  With 40 I have a family, a job and (potentially, finally) a career. Like Bethenny Frankel said "Why did all the important stuff have to happen to me all at the same time?"  I got married, had a beautiful girl and now a job I really like. And I'm 40.  So did I use that pre-40 time wisely? Would I do it all over again? Hell yeah to the second question.  Not so sure on the first.   But I sure do miss those crickets and fireflies on warm, endless, summer nights with family and friends with not a care in the world and with no freakin' idea what was ahead of me.

The DTap shot - kicking my a**

I know most parents dread giving their sweet little happy newborn a shot full of a disease administered with a scary needle but we know how important it is.  In the last week, the subject of Whooping Cough and Tetanus has now come up 3 separate times.  Last week a friend told me their pediatrician recommended both parents get a Tetanus shot to protect their newborn and 3 year old.  Then I just happened to be at my primary care physician's office for a checkup and the first thing she said when I told her about Zoe was 'You need the DTap!'  So here I am, bent over in pain, moaning like a baby and feeling sorry for myself because I'm at work and I feel like sh*t.  Then I read a report about an outbreak of Whooping Cough (pertussis) in California. I guess I'm somehow right on time. Sure is interesting to experience what my daughter must have felt after her shots. This sucks.  Wah!!

The Spaghetti Incident

Axl Rose had no idea how prophetic that phrase would be in my life. I was a big Guns N' Roses fan when "Appetite for Destruction" came out - 1987 (what an amazing year!) A few years later, GNR released 'The Spaghetti Incident' which, although a pretty good album, really only sported 'Patience' and "I used to love her..." But now, my-post-rock-single-freedom self finds another way that phrase fits my mama costume. We all know how difficult it can be to find the best, most nutritious foods for our children. There's never enough time to shop and cook everything ourselves, so, yeah Baby Z gets pizza every now and then. But I made spaghetti sauce - homemade, delicious, chunky, mushroom garlic spaghetti sauce. It's my comfort food. And if I make enough of it, I can freeze it and it becomes my go-to when all else fails. However, could I find a less messy go-to? It's Sunday. We haven't done the trip to Fairway yet. All I've got is some squash and lettuce and I doubt Baby Zee wants a nice plate of mixed greens.  So I defrosted the sauce and put on the pot to boil the noodles.  I stripped Baby Z down to her diaper and strapped on a yellow bib (ha ha ha , I know, nice try) We're trying to convince her to use utensils but the fork merely becomes tangled in the handfuls of noodles and then ends up on the floor. Baby Z ate maybe 1/3 of the bowl, the rest ended up in her lap and all over the floor. She started flinging noodles and I immediately got down to her level, looked her in the eye and said 'That is a no-no' in a calm, even voice. Bad idea. She slapped one spaghetti sauced hand right across my face. And laughed. This is when the rest of the lyrics of "I used to love her..." started playing in my head. I left the room, to recover, and wash my face. I returned to see the child, sitting cherubic and happily covered in tomato sauce, quietly and diligently filling her diaper. So now I had a dangerous perimeter to traverse with an armed and loaded perpetrator at the center. A warm washcloth took care of the immediate threat from the flailing hands but the greater threat loomed as the clock ticked. Sweat beaded on my brow. Will the new diapers hold? Will I make it to the nursery without any collateral damage to the highchair seat? Will I slip on a noodle and send us both sliding into a horrific mess of 'before and after' food?! My mind raced. I grabbed her by the armpits as I stepped gingerly between noodle landmines. I held my breath - for more than the obvious reasons. The span between the dining room and the nursery extended out ahead of me, the path telescoping into what looked like the hallway in the scene in Poltergiest ("Stay away from my baby!")I blacked out. I don't know how long it took but I skidded into the nursery, baby dangling by her armpits, and placed her on the changing table. I always like to listen to music with her so I hit the on button on the radio and there's Axl, this time singing "Take me down to Paradise City." Ha, he has no idea. 

Airplanes and children: they are passengers too!

We are flying to Seattle next month and had already decided to bring the car seat. On past flights we simply juggled Baby Z for  5 hours and arrived exhausted, so knowing that she'll sit still when buckled into her carseat, we thought we'd save us some struggle.  Also, gain some peace of mind. Honestly, it's hard to imagine that we (and millions of other parents) actually opted to NOT buy a seat for the baby because the NTSB and FAA says that children under 2 can sit on a parent's lap (and because fares are ridiculous?!).  I've never been comfortable with that plan. (The NTSB has just announced ending this rule.)  I mean, if real turbulence hits or (God forbid) another sort of disaster, would I really be able to hold onto her? There I'd be, all strapped in and safe and she'd be flung somewhere oh I can't even begin to finish that thought.   But then some Mommies on my local messageboard suggested the CARES harness.  At $75 it's steep but I may give it a try! (By the way, can we discuss the broadcaster's hair?)   UPDATE: We did try the Cares Restraint and totally love it. Not only did Baby Z have her own space and actually slept and sat still, but let me tell you, as a working mother, I get about .5 seconds of real down time once every  4 months.  So to have my child safely in her seat, strapped in like the rest of the passengers, I actually relaxed. No, seriously, for like 10 minutes! I actually sat there, perplexed at the non-existent list of worry items (1-turbulence, 2-she wants to get down 3-she wants to get up 4 -she's under the seat 5-what's in her mouth?! 6-ew don't lick the seat! 7-no that man doesn't want your paci, etc etc) Of course I was duly unprepared for this momentary reprieve - no magazines, no books, nothing.  So, guess what? I just sat there.  And I loved it.  

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Monday wisdom and a pair of shoes

Besides a cup of coffee, what else does one need? On my subway commute into the city I always grab a copy of the free paper (MetroNY) and check the horoscopes. I've never really paid much attention to horoscopes in general because I can pretty much drive myself crazy without any outside help - thank you - but I liked this one just for the pure positive spin on it:  "An authority on the subject might bring it to your attention that something you have is of greater value than you realize. This person appreciates its worth and wants you to as well."  As is true with most horoscopes it's just general enough to really make you think it's actually talking to you, but we all know if it's negative, then it doesn't apply to us. They're talking about someone else.  But I'll take this one for the simple message that we all have something valuable about ourselves that we don't recognize or play up nearly enough. So whether or not there's another person who may know this attribute, YOU should. So take a moment, ponder your greatness, and go forth and conquer Monday!

I know I'll read that next Monday when I'm growling and annoyed at people as a whole, so, in reality, I have a back-up plan: shoes.  I noticed these Aldo beauties on Mascara or Motoroil and have now gone back to her site and to Aldo's site no less than 52 times to 'visit' them.  I decided to give myself an early birthday present and will dutifully post photos of these once they arrive. 

Listening to: New Order "Procession" (How I miss those days.)

Cereal can save us all.

I love cereal. I have a pantry shelf that I stock many different kinds of cereal. And I don't buy cereal so much for the taste, but as for the purpose. See, I have breakfast cereals (hearty, light, not too sweet) and then I have dessert cereals (sweet, but not Fruit Loops sweet.  Pink milk was hilarious in high school, now it just makes my teeth hurt.) I find that a bowl of Cinnamon Harvest is just sweet enough to distract me from a pint of Haagen Daaz. Because it's all about the distraction and ultimately shaking it off. If I can make it past the freezer and into bed before I'm kidnapped, I win!  Unsurprisingly Baby Zee has taken quite a fancy for a fresh bowl of apple cinnamon Oatios and cold milk.  She is my offspring after all. So we shared a bowl.  The MMR shot doesn't appear to be having any effect at all. Even the injection site is virtually invisible. The doctor said that she can have a multitude of reactions up to 2 weeks after the shot.  Am I jinxing it? Am I on thin ice? She's not even cranky. Feverish praying on my part might actually be helping. Or maybe it's just the cereal? Thank you Oatios! 

The inevitable and unavoidable sadness of the MMR

Tomorrow is the day. We've put it off long enough. We signed the waivers at the doctor's office because we refused the shot.  We scheduled and canceled appointments. But we really can't wait any longer.  Pediatricians 'suggest' that the MMR shot should be given between 12-16 months.  Baby Zee is 21 months.  We tried to find a divided dose because we really just can't comprehend how one little body can handle these 3 ugly diseases at once: Measles, Mumps and Rubella.  The "informative" reading given to us about the MMR shot describes the medieval horror that should befall your child if you DON'T get the vaccination: Seizures, deafness, blindness, dull stares - seriously, the scare tactic is working on me.  But with all the new 'luggage' that comes with a child's vaccination schedule there are so many other things to worry about. And I'm a Class A Master Worrier.  I'm sorry baby Zee but I know it's got to be this way. You'll get through this. Your father and I survived our vaccinations and who knows what the hell was in those shots in the '70s.   But you hate shots. You hate the doctor's office. In fact you hate and scream at anyone remotely resembling a doctor. Or an office. So this will not be easy.  Fortunately for me, your Daddy has a great poker face hiding that huge breaking heart so he will take you. You know your Mommie only adds to your terror by sobbing herself, so I will hide in the bathroom at work promptly at 10:30am and say a thousand Hail Mary's and help you get through it.   I'm sorry I'm not more help.  Here I thought childbirth was supposed to be the most difficult.  It's not the pain you gave me then that is the worst, it's the pain I see you endure. And will endure the rest of your life - through vaccinations to skinned knees, to rejection and disappointment. I'll do everything I can to let you experience just enough to understand because you need to learn and grow and become the amazing person you are destined to be.  My little sweetness and light - stay strong and be brave.

Summer Pasta

I've been acquiring the items for this summer salsa pasta salad all week and I just never got the time to make it. Until today. I must share. It's delicious! By the way, I hate cilantro.  But I love Mexican food and most of what I cook is spicy so Que Pasa? Maybe it's starting to grow on me. The aversion was violent back in the day - I'd recoil in horror if I tasted it, but now, I chew through it with only a minor grimace. I must be growing up (wipe tear away.)  Anyhow, it's a great, easy to make summer salad. And actually most people have a lot of this stuff in their pantries already  - I just had to make a special trip to the produce stand to get the fresh cilantro. Didn't have any problem identifying THAT one - oy that stuff is strong.  I find most of my recipes at Allrecipes.com - simply because it has two important features: 1- reader reviews and 2 - the option to type in whatever you found in the fridge and it will find a recipe for it.  Genius!

2 cups rainbow pasta

1 chopped onion (I used some scallions too)

1 red bell pepper (had half a green one -score!)

1 6oz can of sliced black olives (or like my family, get the supersize and sample all during prep.)

3 diced tomatoes

1 4oz can of diced green chiles (I used 3 T of green salsa)

1/3 cup distilled white vinegar

1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro

1 1/2 teaspoon  garlic salt

1/3 cup lemon juice

1/2 cup veg oil (I like less so went with 1/3)

1 Tablespoon white sugar

1 Tablespoon chili powder*

* I thought it needed more kick so I added 1 Tablespoon of crushed red pepper flakes.

1. Cook the noodles.  (I'm always surprised that this has to be written in a recipe. But, hey, you never know...)

2. Combine the onion, bell pepper, olives, tomatoes and green chiles (or green salsa) in one bowl.

3. In another bowl (I suggest something easy to pour from) whisk together the vinegar, cilantro, garlic salt, lemon juice, vegetable oil, sugar and chili powder (and red pepper flakes.)  

This dish is best served cold - let the stuff mingle for a bit and have a cold Pacifico while you wait.  If I had a baby pool, I'd have my feet in it. I thought a little bit of Mexican trinkets would be a good background.  So it's a great summer salad, or an odd sort of shrine to pasta...

Such beautiful brightness

Sometimes I marvel at what nature creates. Sure she wreaks havoc and life can really suck sometimes but then ... this happens. Thought I'd share xoxoo- MillionMama

My bouncing baby belly balance ball

One of the best items I've found for one's child-bearing years, based strictly on it's ability to multi-purpose, is the Balance Ball. Pre-pregnancy, things like waist circumference and the effects of gravity really didn't monopolize my thoughts and a little bit of exercise went a long way (my post-baby self laughs heartily at this) - mostly in the mood altering department (hello endorphins!) I liked a straight posture so a balance ball helped keep that up. Then when I got pregnant and we signed up for class to inform us of all the eye-opening things that encompass 'birth', the instructor showed us a pregnant woman's best friend -the balance ball. We could kneel next to it, drape our arms across it, rest our heads on it and let the belly hang in the breeze. It was one way I knew I could take a break from holding up all that excess weight. The ball transitioned nicely into an early-stage labor accomplice for that same reason or I'm sure it probably could have provided something to punch endlessly during the pain. Since I had a c-section (baby was breach the whole time) I didn't get the chance to roll around with the balance ball while enduring contractions but it sure looked like a good suggestion. After our sweet little girl was born, the natural parenting instinct to rock a baby to sleep kicked in. Seeing as how we are challenged in the space department in our little Brooklyn apartment and the nursery had just enough room for a crib, it meant no rocking chair. But, once again, the balance ball delivers. We held her while bouncing gently on the balance ball, working out our core muscles while putting the baby to sleep! She loved the bouyancy it created - must have felt like the womb. I'd like to say my mid-section has benefited but that would imply that I put some effort into it. Ha ha. However, when not utlizing all the many personalities of the Balance Ball, baby and I like to relax with simultanous, side-by-side Downward Dog. Isn't she the cutest?

Learning how to dress myself

Every now and then I manage to orchestrate a really good outfit, purely in spite of myself of course. I tend to shop by moods and that explains the 14 million dresses I have in my wardrobe that I no longer wear. But sometimes, on a morning where the planets align (the baby slept all night, I have a clean kitchen, I got to take a shower - you know, basic stuff), I grab all the right elements and they work together. This dress (probably more accurately called a tunic because it's just theeees much away from being uncomfortably short for my age group) was a spontaneous Target.com discovery. I had it, seriously, for a year before I found the right way to wear it. Think about it: It's a great rust / orange color, but what the hell do I wear with it?? Black leggings? Halloween anyone? Brown leggings? I'm a pumpkin, no thanks. Gray? umm... no. So, here it is on the hot summer day - sans leggings - with an Old Navy slip tank dress and this awesome $8 necklace from H&M. The bag - another score from Newport-News. That bag cost $39 and I use it all the time. Seeing as how it took over a year to get to this outfit, it's doubtful these are still available. However, I just looked at Newport and they have this fetching leopard tote and sandals. Uh-oh. Shopping at work. Not cool!

I'm a sucker for shopping online. I know if the term 'Retail Therapy' hadn't already been created, I would have coined it myself. I find it enormously relaxing to surf around, add stuff to my cart and then leave. I'm sure all those sites are pouring through their data and wondering why customers are doing this - so I apologize - but hey, drop your prices and maybe I'll actually push the checkout button! Anyhow, some days I end up at Forever 21 because if something's trendy, they have it and they have it cheap. However, seeing as how I'm pretty much not their target age demographic, in fact, I'm pretty much off their radar LOL, I do feel stupid (hence, no actual brick & mortar store visits - that music is horrible in the stores! Forever39 anyone?!) Anyhow, I often end up at Newport News. They do have some neat stuff but like I said with the stoop sales, you have to dig. I mean, they have so many trendy things but they often are *this close* and then they add something bizarre like chains or snake skin and it's lost on me. But I found this dress and it's pretty cute - in the white or the brown. It looks like it might be not so clingy as to highlight the post-baby tire I've accumulated. I might put it in the cart - visit it every few days and then maybe I'll buy it??

Stoop sales. Fashionista Heaven.

I love a good stoop sale. In the Midwest we called them garage sales, but since space is about $400 a square foot in the NY area, garages are pretty scarce. So we call stoop sales any time the contents of one's house is brought out to sell out onto the sidewalk and stoop. Mid-spring marks the beginning of the season here in Brooklyn but things really pick up at the beginning of summer right before the kids get out of school. This is an important detail to note because if one plans on walking all over miles of neighborhoods rooting through people's junk, it would behoove one (I love saying that) to go on the days that the rich people purge their big homes before heading out to the Hamptons to fill up their other big homes. See - stoop sales help the little people like me benefit from the frivolous seasonal whims of the wealthy - and I usually find scores for about $5. Earlier this summer, my planning and theory, factored in with a sunny but low 70s temperature created the perfect stoop sale vortex of great success. I left with my big empty tote bag (rule #1 for stoop sales: don't ask for a bag. Come on!) and 3 hours later returned with a brand new black patent leather Nine West handbag for $10, 1 pretty glass French Press coffee maker ($3), 1 brightly colored mexican planter ($2), 1 tall square basket ($2) and 3 jewelry molds that will make some awesome wall art for the bathroom ($9). Major scores. It was about 4 years ago that I was enlightened to the hidden potential of the stoop sale. I was walking to the grocery store and came across a stoop sale. I walked away with a beautiful yellow designer dress by Catherine Malandrino - for $20. I promptly googled it when I got home and realized I just got the bargain of the century: It retailed for $250. We also once scored a beautiful black button tufted leather club chair - for $10 because the sellers had been out there all day and were moving and wanted it gone. Score! So, some may call it dumpster diving, but not me. If you wash the clothes immediately and wipe down anything else you get before using, what's not to love? Especially on a budget.

Killswitch vs. The Eagles

My friend Jim created this great video for one of my most favorite bands, Killswitch Engage. This video took months of painstaking work but it is awesome. I have to admit that I haven't listened to Killswitch in quite a while - my favorite song is "Your Days are Numbered" from their first cd and they've since switched singers, I've moved, my life has changed, I haven't seen a rock show in years.... basically, I find that I listen to music that supports my state of mind at the time. Since I'm not out in the rock scene anymore and I don't seem to have that same emo-rock dramatic epic-ness to my life like I did years ago, KE doesn't quite fit. But hey, I'm on to other music now. Been listening to a lot of Eagles. Not sure why. Maybe it's that 'Peaceful Easy Feeling.." :)

I'm so excited that Bret Michaels won Celebrity Apprentice! I knew there had to be a brain under that headband. Seriously though, I do remember going to see Poison - oh it was probably 1987? And I had hair up to there and it was awesome. My friend Chuck pretty much idolized Poison. Too bad he bore a resemblance closer to the drummer than to Bret. But the hair was there. He had it and he bleached it. AND he had the pins - all the Poison pins a man could wear on a super cool jean jacket. Thank god he stopped at the makeup - maybe a little eyeliner, but that was it. We went to the show outside Cleveland - the old Agora maybe? And Chuck new all the tricks about finding out where the band was. We stalked their tour bus, we hung out by the back door of the club. We didn't see the band, but it was still pretty eye-opening to be out there with the 'rest of the groupies.' I was sorely out of my league. I didn't have the goods to be even considered (did I even know what that really meant??) but I was impressed by drive and the ambition of these professional groupies. Who am I to judge. I guess pick a vocation and go with it, right?