People enjoy peeking into others peoples' lives.  Especially when these other people are like them in some big or important way.

When I saw D Moms at Whole Foods, I thought: 'Perfect.  Dallas mothers and Dallas' soon-to-be mothers will eat this up.'

Admittedly, some of the content was cliché.  Exposés of wealthy philanthropy moms and their closets full of Chanel purses have never been of much interest to me.  However, there were a few pieces that I found compelling.  Among them were the following:

1)  An interesting exposé on a Vietnamese fashion blogger by the name of Hanh Merriman.  Here are a few tidbits:

-'Buy only what you really love, don't settle for something you just like, no matter the price.'

-She plans learning trips for her family.  She sees 'vacations as a time for the girls to get excited about new things.'  Her examples were:

• making pasta in Venice
• acting lessons in NYC
• whale watching in Vancouver

This makes me want to plan some learning trips for Poppy O.!

2)  There was another mommy exposé that impressed me: Confessions of a Selfish Mom - We decided that our children would live in our world, not we in theirs. 

Christine Allison uses this forum to reflect back on her Disney Worldless parenting strategy.  Her kids didn't have a lot of toys, and their family didn't go to places that were specifically tailored to children.  She and her husband raised their four daughters in an adult world.

-'We agreed that being subsumed by children is in no one's best interest...We were afraid that somehow we would lose ourselves.'

-'Not having a lot of toys and gadgets made space for writing plays, riding bikes, and making worlds out of cardboard boxes.  We had a country house in upstate New York and on weekends big Allisons and tiny Allisons spent every moment together, in a multipurpose room, reading books, cooking, listening to public radio.  It wasn't the Magic Kingdom, but it was magical.'

Public radio?  Upstate New York?  Books instead of toys?  I'm glad to see that D Magazine's spin-off can step outside of their prescribed realm every now and again.

Now, who's ready to watch some football?

http://www.life-in-travel.com/

http://www.dmagazine.com/Home/D_Magazine/2012/D_Moms/Confessions_of_a_Selfish_Mom.aspx

Cinque Cento

This is a new segment we're calling: no mini-van....ever.

Matt's ultra-ghetto 2004 Chrysler '500 M' took its final breath a few weeks ago.  So, as previously discussed, he took my Honda Element (read: the 'toaster') and I got a new vehicle.

you can put a baby in here

vroom

Yep.  I have a 6 month old baby and I bought a very small (even by European standards) car.  Maverick!

The fact of the matter is, Poppy is a very small person, so it's actually no problem at all to fit her into a small car.  Small person, small car - see?  In my case, I put her into her rear-facing car seat via the hatchback door.  It takes less time to get her situated because I don't have to actually get into the car in order to put her into the car.  I recently learned that the Fiat 500 is considered to be a 3-door automobile (the hatchback door is considered to be the 3rd door.  This actually does make sense because, at least for us, it functions as a baby door.)

So if any of you mommies want to walk hand-in-hand with me into the 21st century, where the cars have excellent fuel economy, know that you aren't alone.  Maverick!


I love this car, it's very euro-chic.  Others love it as well:
http://500blog.blogspot.com/2008/07/new-fiat-500-black-by-night-iv.html

'Will You Take Care Of This Baby?'

It's a beautiful, cool, crisp morning.  Fall is here, and the transition is just as exciting as it is every year.  I rise at 8:00am, get dressed, and dress Poppy in her new Fall outfit that we bought at Ralph Lauren this weekend.  She is looking lovely in her first Fall outfit.  The car was loaded up last night with my school things as well as with Poppy's little green backpack.  We hit the road at 8:45.  The sun is shining.  We go through the McDonald's drive-through to pick up my two bottles of Dasani water and a medium Diet Dr. Pepper.  As we pull into the church parking lot, I notice that there is only one other car.  That's strange.

I park, pull Poppy out of her car seat, bonk her head a little, apologize to her for bonking her head a little, realize that she didn't even notice the bonk, and then I grab her green backpack.  We approach a locked door.  Everything is dark inside of Claire's Christian Day school.  I linger for a minute, peering into the building.  As we turn to head back to the car, a portly woman appears.


portly woman: 'They're not here today.  It's Fair Day.'

me: 'Fair Day?'

portly woman: 'Yes, they're on the Highland Park school system schedule and today is Fair Day.'

me: 'Oh, I didn't know that public schools had a designated Fair Day.'

portly woman: 'Well in Texas they do.'

me: 'Oh.  Well, then.  Will you take care of this baby for me?'

Poppy, who is still looking cute and well put together, smiles at the portly church administrator woman.

portly woman: 'I've been in your situation before.'



We return to the car in the nearly vacant parking lot where I give Poppy some of her bottle and think for a minute.  It is Columbus Day, but the market is still open ('the market' = the stock market).  Is it politically incorrect these days to call a school holiday Columbus Day?  Columbus seems like a fairly benign historical character.

I guess this means I'm not going to class today.

It's okay to take your baby into the liquor store as long as it's a reasonably nice liquor store, and as long as your just getting wine.

I love wine, which is just one of the great many reasons that I love not being pregnant anymore.  There is a Goody Goody liquor store just around the corner from our apartment that carries Whispering Angel, an excellent French rosé.  The sweet guys who run the place usually have some hidden in the back of the refrigerator for me. 

another excellent reason to continue my current state of non-pregnancy

I have a baby, and I've heard that you can't leave babies in the car.  (We all know this and yet there's always some woman leaving her kid in the car in the middle of summer.  My theory is that she's just not that into her kid anymore.)  So, this means that Poppy is coming into the liquor store with me.  The first couple of times we did this, I did feel a little weird about it.  But I want my vino, and I'm Poppy's primary caregiver, so she's going in there too.  Sometimes people make funny little comments as I'm carrying her in.  Comments like: 

liquor store patrons:  'She like vodka or scotch?' or 'Let's get that baby a beer!'.  

To which I reply (somewhat defensively) with the following justification : 'Oh, we're just getting wine'.   

I've had some time to think about it and I have arrived at the following conclusion: It's okay to take your baby into the liquor store if you are just buying wine.    

Dilemma

Here's a new concern that I've had lately:

How much longer will I be physically able to carry Poppy?

She weighed 16 pounds at her 4 month checkup, putting her in the 95th percentile for weight.  This didn't bother me, because she is in the 85th percentile for height.  We'll find out at her 6 month pedi visit on October 25th, but I'm guessing that she weighs 21 pounds or so now.  Or maybe even 25 pounds.  

The otherwise dependable method of putting Poppy in the Baby Bjorn sling carrier on my chest is already on its way out (it's beginning to hurt my back since she is getting so heavy).  This bums me out because the chest carrier has been an easy and quick way to carry her around while at the Whole Foods or while sitting in a restaurant.  She just hangs out in there while I'm eating brunch, and it's pleasant for everyone.  

My concern is regarding how much she will weigh before she becomes a full-time walker.  It's becoming increasingly difficult to hold her and carry her around.  The day will come when I won't be able to carry her at all.  For example, I don't think that I am strong enough to lift a 40 pound person.  Do I need to start weight lifting/strength training?  I would really rather not.

    

poppy in a communal stroller at 'mommy's day out'

notice how Poppy is the only baby who's bag gets a seat as well. 

Are We In A Strip Club?

Oh boy!  The Book of Mormon!  I'd been wanting to see this one for two years.

This is not a play for children. This is not a play for closed-minded adults. This is not a play for broke people (but then again, I suppose that applies to broadway in general).  Those Southpark guys are really chargin' ya for this musical.

There are these two geeky mormons in their late teens or early twenties who are sentenced to a two-year companionship as missionaries in Uganda.  Only one of these guys has actually heard of Uganda.  

One of the many unforeseen problems for these two young missionaries is that the Ugandans are more concerned with AIDS and pesky warlords than with religion shopping.  


The soundtrack is excellent.  Some of the songs have hopeful, upbeat punctuations that remind me of the songs in The Little Mermaid.  But the lyrics are nothing like The Little Mermaid.  One example is the song 'I Believe' sung by Andrew Rannells (Elder Price).  

elder price

Some of the funny lyrics of this song include bits like:

I believe......that in 1978 God Changed his mind about black people.....

I believe......that God lives on a planet called Kola.....

and I believe.......that The Garden of Eden was in Jackson County Missouriiii.......

I am a mormon, and mormons just belieeeeve!!!!


During the intermission Matt and I are the first people in line at the bar.

the barman: 'What'll ya have?'

me: 'We'll have a vodka soda and a jack and diet please.'

the barman: 'Doubles?'

me: 'Sure!'

The barman makes the drinks.

the barman: 'Here you go.  That'll be $61 please.'

Matt hands the barman a $20 bill.

the barman: '$61.'

me: 'Wow, $61 dollars, are we in a strip club or something?'

I was in an elated and awnery mood.  Seeing Matt Parker and Trey Stone (or is it Matt Stone and Trey Parker?) exercising the freedom allowed by the first amendment to this great extreme is very exciting.  I also had a confidence boost from my new black 7 skinny jeans.  They are truly excellent.  

Also, I think that Rogers and Hammerstein would balk at these drink prices.


A woman who was standing behind me in the drink line came up to me as we were headed back to our seats.

woman: 'Wow, as soon as I heard how much you guys were paying for your drinks I decided to get a soda instead.'

me: 'I know, crazy huh?

The Scrappy Irishman

this guy is scrappy.  he's ready to defend himself and his stamps.

There is this stamp guy in the East Village. His stamp shop is nothing like the sober rubber stamp aisles in Michaels. This is a raw stamp situation. I saw the store while walking around the east village waiting to meet Matt at Momofuku (a very loud noodle bar) around the corner.  His window display has hundreds of obscure stamps.

casey rubber stamps: they're 'open late' and 'most sundays'.
these guys are serious about their arts and crafts.  

This isn't just any stamp store.  As I'm browsing, two dodgy fellas come down into the small shop. I take notice of these guys straight way for two reasons: the shop is too small not to notice the comings and goings of anyone, and also because they look as if or as though they are packing heat. I hate to stereotype like that, but (at least in this case) it turned out not to be without merit.


The Irish ,Santa Clause-esc proprietor comes up to the front of his shop while remaining seated in his swivel chair.  

Irishman: 'Can I help you guys?'

Drug Dealers: 'Yea, hey, uh you can make customized stamps right?'

Irishman: 'That's right.'

Drug Dealers: 'Can you make some of this?'

Drug Dealers show something to the Irishman.

Irishman: 'No, I don't do that kind of thing.'

Drug Dealers: 'What kind of thing?'

Irishman: 'I don't make stamps for the bags.'

Drug Dealers: 'That's not what this is.'

Irishman: 'Well I don't make those kind of stamps.'

Agitation ensues.

Drug Dealers: 'That's discrimination man!'

Irishman: 'I don't make those.'

At this point I begin to think that the Drug Dealers might pull a gun on the Irishman.  But the Irishman eventually shoos these guys out the door.  

me: 'I thought they were going to shoot you.'

Irishman: 'Did you notice that I kept my scissors in my hand?  I don't want them in here again.'

He then explains to me that Drug Dealers come into the shop sometimes who want him to make stamps to label their drug baggies.  This particular design said 'Don't Worry, Be Happy'.  We both agree that he doesn't have to accept their business.  Then I buy these two stamps from the scrappy Irishman.

This is why I love New York, there's never a dull moment when your walking around the city.  Irish artisans, entrepreneurial drug dealers, just another day-

I started stamping Matt 's business documents in an effort to be more quirky. Maybe I'll buy a record player, a typewriter, and a guide to crocheting as a tribute to Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen and Zoey Deschanel.  



http://www.caseyrubberstamps.com/
http://momofuku.com/