http://www.tumbleweedhouses.com/ Check it out!!!! Wanna skip the whole mortgage thing?? Live simply & energy efficiently? Just make sure you have a big backyard! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbRvsWuWNUM

I know, I know, kids, right? Bouncing off the tiny walls- but there are some 3 bedroom versions here...... I think they are really cute. And they kind of force you to live in a great location because you'd have to go outside a lot in order to not lose it. And you can build your own! Maybe after my son is grown and has his own place. Or we could each have a tiny house when he's a teenager & eat meals together. Some warm, beautiful location.......and, uh, internet access for graphic design...... okay so I'm dreaming here. The world is built on dreams though! Lemme dream!

These words should have never rolled over the lips of my little girl. ( She is a healthy, very fit, very atheletic, funny lovely, bright (you get the point) nine-year old girl. She is tall for her age and is often mistaken for someone even as old as eleven or twelve, and this is quite an age spread for kids. It isn't the same as mistaking someone who is 35 for 38 (not really) both are adults--approaching middle age.

She has lived in a house where the only magazines feature architecture, home improvement, literature or skateboarding. This kind of sums up our lives. We don't own a scale, and only a month ago did we sucumb to installing 'channels' on or television (previously we only had dvd's and vhs for viewing). There is no one in her household who obsesses over weight, fat, body image, or the like. I have done my best to focus on healthy eating rather than even using the term 'diet'. But none of this seems to matter to her right now.

She wants ripped abs like her two girl cousins who are a year and two years older than her, and with whom we've just returned from vacation which included hot-tubs and skiing. My darling gal was as fit and lovely as the other two, just not 'cut'. Why should she be, she is a little girl. It is uncommon for girls to have defined abdominal muscles anyway, but these are the girls she sees in bikinis.

I explained that her aunt, the gals' mother, is also naturally slim and muscular, where as I am rather hippy and soft in the middle by nature, though I have 'nice pipes' according to my sons, when we check our bicep flexes. It is a boy thing that I refuse to be left our of. (we have three sons and one daughter, she is third in line). She too naturally compares herself to her brothers, 'but he has a six-pack, and I don't even have a four pack! It's not fair.'

So, she was busy breaking my heart yesterday with her antics, and feeling sorry for herself, when I told her that her concern is nothing to do with the reality of her body and it all has to do with her mind. It is up to her to change how she thinks and feels about herself, and maintaining an unhealthy perspective can lead to obsession about food and dieting, and feeling generally poorly about oneself. We both know women who are like this, and she agreed that this would not be a good way to live.

I have never told her about my own struggles with anorexia and bulimia when I was a teen and a young adult. When stressed, upset, or depressed I starve, not intentionally, but I can’t eat, my stomach rejects food, and this only makes matters worse. Fortunately she's never seen me like this—it has been about twenty years since the food/fat demon haunted me. I vowed to not raise self-conscious children. My kids would be fit, active, and confident and not give a second thought to the ‘f’ word—that being fat.
But in a society where so many children are inactive and obese and as a result struggle with health conditions that formerly only plagued adults, the public awareness around childhood obesity is high, it shouldn’t surprise me so much that she too would be worried about her weight. But she is not the child that has a weight issue, but she doesn’t seem to think so.

I am trying to balance between supporting her growing self-esteem, and giving too much attention to an unwarranted obsession with her ‘fat.’ Sure she has a little soft layer over her belly, as she should, she needs this to grow. This is not from junk food, nor from inactivity, but from her body’s natural arrangement. I am trying to encourage her to love herself, as I found I had to do as well—and this was not an easy thing for me to do, and I certainly wasn’t able to do it as a teen, but I grew up and left the things that were beating me down. I just want to be the best mom for her as she blossoms into a lovely gal so that she won’t end up struggling through her teens as I did.

Maybe I should switch grocery store where the check-out line has a dreadful array of glossy hate-yourself and Kristie Alley, you-could-do-better, lose-weight, eat-great magazines. I dismiss and deride them to myself every time I go through the checkout, but they do play on my insecurities; so I shouldn’t overlook the affect that these images may have on her as well. Mostly, I have asked that she try to not compare herself to other girls or women, but to focus on the positive things she has, rather than the not having what they have... easy to say....

I could go on much more on this topic, but I won’t for now... thanks for reading.

discuss:

"Mr. Wood, I found you not guilty, so I can't sentence you as a defendant in any crimes, but earlier today, I sentenced you to life married to her."
- Baltimore Co. Judge Darrell Russel

I just want to be a better mom than my mom was. Actually, by not leaving my children when the oldest was two years old I have achieved that task. But, still...

My son has always preferred his dad over me. I mean, he loves me, that's obvious. But if given the choice between hanging out with mom or hanging out with dad, he chooses his dad. This hurts my feelings, because I think I'm pretty awesome, and we always seem to have a good time. But it's getting worse now that he's older. It also seems to be getting worse now that his dad is getting married. I feel this strange competition now between the new stepmom and myself. I know it's absurd.

So, it's career day at my son's school. I teach GED, and I'm really proud of what I do. I don't brag about my job a lot, so I though this would be a great time for me to do that. I also want to do anything I can to be involved in what's going on at his school. But when I picked him up yesterday, he had written a note to his dad (a shoe salesman) asking HIM to come and speak at career day. ( Not me... Dad.

So I told my son I was planning on doing that and asked him why he didn't invite me to speak. He said that I didn't have a job. HE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW I HAD A JOB!!! I also work as a sub at his school, and he said I'm "only" a sub and he didn't think that was a job. That hurts my feelings also.

When I discussed this with his dad, his dad talked to him. He just called me this morning and told me that our son said he wanted his dad to speak because his friends already know what I do. This also hurts my feelings.

I really want to speak at career day. My feelings are also always getting hurt by this kid and I'm seriously sick of it. He's a really, really great kid! But he is so tactless with his comments!!

My questions are these: Should I just go ahead and do career day regardless of what my son says? I think both his dad and I can do it. Secondly, how do I teach my son some tact, and how do I get him to understand that you have to think before you say things out loud! Also, what am I doing wrong that my kid doesn't like me? I'm tired of the mom/dad/stepmom competition. I know, I know. He's a kid, he doesn't HAVE to like me, et cetera, et cetera. But the point is, it's important to me that my son and I have a good relationship. I think we had that at one point, but it's gone now and I don't know how to get it back.

Is anyone online right now that has any kind of insight or experience with their 8 year olds in this?

Okay Mamas. I hope you are all sleeping sweetly. I am up with
my bleeding heart in my hands here...or so it feels, at 1 a.m. and g-damn the time change today. Can you believe- my son is almost 6 and with the divorce and all the back and forth and many many illnesses over these past few winters and changes etc... and an UNbelievably at times vindictive ex who at times would like to TAKE ME DOWN, I've let him keep his "paci" at night. I have a willful kid or maybe it's a tricky regulated kid- who for ex when we tried "cry it out" at 6 mos cried for 5 hours, then fell down in the crib, then cried 2 more hours. That was the end of that. I feel like he always wins when it comes to his demands around sleep, because I get to gdamn worn out and have too hard a job and too mnay responsibilities to miss WEEKS of sleep, and I mean WEEKS if i Try to change the status quo. I won't even get into how I a very healthy woman almost went nutso w/ his tsleep issues
the first 2.5 years of his life!! But cut to the present, his dad acts like everything is a total breeze w/ him at his house, and in fact I think it DOES look like that. I helped raise my stepson, my ex's older son, and in fact when he was w/ us he ws like some
angelic character in Andy Griffith show. UNREAL. Anytime he DID have a different idea or complaint he was SHUT UP. His dad does not tolerate ANY DIFFERENCE of opinion or need. SO he got my son OFF paci for 3 nights 2 weekends ago, beginning of
the "weaning" of it. He comes back to me, as if often the case, w/ a fresh cold and stressed. I try to continue the "plan." He starts getting hives every night, and dr examines himn and says he's got the beginning of an ear infection. I try to continue 'the plan." He goes to sleep fine w/ out paci but then is up at midnight WRITHING and screaming and have HUGE tantrum. Only time I've seen him act this way is w/ ear infection. But usually he is a super articulate kid, even at midnigh, about pain or whatever is going on. NOW HE WON'T SPEAK. Just screaming and even "goo goo gah gah." I am asking him 'Please are you in pain? Do you need medicine? Or is this missing Paci...?" I give him paci back 2-3 nights at that point exhausted and thinking he is maybe in pain and I'm not going to do this while he's in pain. But next day he tells me "I was not in pain at all, just miss paci...I want to do the plan when I'm over this cold." I supportively agree. So tonight he agrees at bedtimre let's try tonight. I give him lots of love and attn. He's getting hives at bedtime now, since "paci plan" but dr felt they might be related to the cold/virus. WTF. I can't figure anything out. So tonight I am beyond exhausted, sick-ish myself, big codl sore, too many clients, kids in big agony (clients) calling me even from college for help in ER as I"m trying to put him to bed w/ hives...for their "check in" but he's up 2 hours past bedtime because of the time change and hives, etc. I finally get him down. Watch some TV, relax a tiny bit. At midnight he's up WRITHING and screaming, won't let me hold him,m won't speak, won't tell me waht is going on. Nada. I make it okay if he misses paci, try to tell him it is okay to say he wants it. He finally does but is kicking etc. I tell him I'm going to hold you, help you all night if you need my help. I'm right here, it's okay...holding you... this feeling will pass...." etc. More writhing and screaming. On and on. Finally he's hitting his legs and I FINALLY (30 minutes into this) yell and say "STOP HITTING YOURSELF! THIS IS NOT OKAY!" and then he finally speaks and says 'YOU are a monster!!!! YOu are a monster!" and runs away from me. I go away and cry. It is too late to call anyone. Finally I go in the room and give him teh paci. This storm is too much for me. ANd i'm undone by his accusation which he could tell his dad which scares the hell out of me. I was a lvoing great mom all day, and through 1/2 hour of bloody murder screaming.

I feel like dog crap on the bottom of someone's shoe. I am demoralized.

This is the same kid that said to me two days ago sitting in a waitinbg room WAY to long for me, "I'm a Musa (his martial art)...I practive patience." He is FIVE! He is a great in school, totally loved, tons of friends, super loving, incredibly creative, articulate, wise... but has these times w/ me which just undo me. It is time to stop the paci but i'm telling you I feel like I go into the lion's mouth w/ this kid at times- it is so overwhelming.

Thanks. Please know I have a healthy great kid. But his sucks so badly.

First, how are you mamas doing?
Things are getting slightly better. DH has a job. It is here (he was a long-term sub 1.5 hours away). The school is rough & it is really exhausting, but it is a job. Of course, they aren't paying him for any experience yet (you have to go through a process with dept of ed). On the plus side, he will be retroactively paid. This position is just for this year & our city is talking about MORE cuts (600 +), so even though they would like to have him next year, we won't know anything for awhile.

"Ok, smile, Mom!"

High Schooler, then a middle-schooler, was standing at street level holding my snazzy new camera phone. I threw up my hands and grinned while standing on the second floor overhang of the house I'd owned for two hours.

The "first time home buyer" surveys online seemed like harmless fun. Stop Paying Rent! Let Your Tenants Pay The Mortgage. I assumed that wasn't possible, but occasionally filled out a survey as though it were a fluffy quiz that would tell me if I were Hermit, Girl Next Door or Party Animal. With my credit card debt, marital history, and low-paying job divided by current number of mouths to feed, I figured all of the houses out there were safe from me.

to think we could jump into a open-adoption-type scenario.

We had a mediation, they surrendered their rights to us. We all agreed to one more visit. They get a ride to our county for the visits--so dh and I spoke to several people there to verify that yes, they would definitely get one more ride out to see us. After that we'd be in touch (having exchanged cell #s and a safe address) and play it by ear.

Over the past two years, the boys' bio-parents and I (I drive little guy to the visits) have come to have a really nice relationship. We'd never talk about anything heavy but we got along fine, we acknowledged the love each of us has for the children, we laughed together at the silly things they'd do. We'd beam with pride at their little accomplishments.

Them surrendering to us is something I had wished for but was hard, emotionally, anyway. We grieved for them.

I prepared for the last visit--assembled a beautiful birthday gift for Mom, wrote a nice card for both of them, put a picture in a frame for Dad--and then the driver called me.
He can't find them. He called both of their cell #s several times the day before the visit as well as the morning of. No answers. He swung by their place to see if he could find them. He couldn't.
He said we'd try again in two weeks, but I don't know if they'll turn up then either.

At first I thought, well, it was just too hard for them. But then I began to wonder if they relapsed. They've been clean, working their program, doing so well--I really had hope for their futures. And I'm so concerned for them now.

I called the worker the next day to see if she had any plans to see them again. Nope, once they surrender her obligation to them is over. Which, from a pragmatic point of view I guess makes sense but when you think about what social work means (at least to me), it's not "work with these people until they surrender and then wash your hands of them." Really? She's not obligated to even check on them?

She, being human, said she would try to call them, though. But we both think they won't answer.

I boxed up the gifts and mailed it to the address they gave us.
Now I wait for two weeks and see.

I do have their cell phone numbers, but I won't call, not yet. I am considering texting them a day or two before the next attempt.
So many people in my community have told me they've been praying for me during the past two years of not knowing. I'm systematically getting to each of them to ask them to take me off the prayer list and add the boys' bio parents instead.

And so I come here to do the same. I know many of the newer mamas here don't know me but I also know there are many of you here that have been reading along and sending me vibes for two years now. Please send them to Z's bio mama and papa now.

Thanks.
xo

I've become slack recently in tending to the needs of the little Valorie inside that needs to create things. My poor guitar is mocking me in the corner over there. (Stop looking at me like that, guitar!) So I've dedicated myself to writing a thing a day, whether it's a song, a poem, a short story, or a paragraph of a short story. Maybe I'll draw a picture. I even bought a brand new little journal for this task. If I can stick to the commitment, I may even post a blog with all my little goodies!

This is Day One. I started off my Write-a-day with a poem. Wanna hear it? Here it is:

My Body

I love my body.
I love the way
My calloused feet
Land on the cool, slick floor
And carry me to my
Desired destination.

I love my body.
I love the way
My hands
Run across my
Love-worn face,
Lined with years of laughter.

I love my body.
I love the way
My crooked arms
Lift my children out of bed
And wrap around to a comforting
Embrace.

I love my body.
I love the way
My clothes
Fail to fit just right.
Tailor-made for the masses, I am
Unique.

I love my body.

(P.S.- If you are my facebook friends, I copy/pasted this there as well. Though I think HM would appreciate it more! )

I don't have a fussy baby. I also don't have a fussy eight year old son. If the baby is fussy, it's usually because she is hungry, bored, or sleepy; all of these things are easily remedied. So, when she was in her super-fantastic-magical-saucer, which she loves so, and started fussing, the first thing I did was try to feed her.

Nope. She wasn't hungry.

The next thing I tried to do was entertain her. I made a fish face. I used funny voices. I bounced her on my knee while I sang "Thumbelina".

Nope. That didn't work.

Next, I tried to rock her to sleep. I do this thing where I hold her on my lap wrapped in a snuggly blanket while I simultaneously rock her back and forth and pat her on the back. This almost always works.

It didn't work.

I cycled through all of these things twice before realizing that she smelled horrible. Even worse, just as soon as I realized this, my usually mild-mannered son decided to whine at me that he wanted a turn to use the TV in the middle of my Hercules-a-thon! "Mom! Come on! It's my turn! Besides you've seeeeeeen this one before! When do I get a turn? I want to play Zeldaaaaa!"

Snap, snap, snap went my patience. I usually keep a high amount of this patience stuff around, just in case. But this time, it snapped. Then, I snapped. I snapped at my son. I snapped at the cat. I snapped at the baby. Then, I went upstairs and changed the shitty diaper into a fresh one and came back downstairs to run the gamut of food, entertainment, and nap again.

Again, none of these things worked. Confused and frustrated at how unusually fussy my almost-never-fussy baby had become, and how unusually whiney my almost-never-whiney son had become, I threw my head back and yelled "PLEASE!" I set the baby down out of fear of dropping her and walked into the kitchen screaming my little head off. Each step, my voice got louder and louder until I worried that the neighbors might hear me screaming and call the police. Then I picked my head back up, after having screamed it off, and put it back on, only to hear my almost-never-rude son say "Mom! That really hurt my ears!"

Ohmyfuckinggod. Seriously, kid? That hurt your ears? Oh, so sorry. I'll try not to ever let it happen again...

...is the sarcastic thing I WANTED to say. Instead, I just leaned against the kitchen wall and cried.

My son snuck in and hugged me. Then, he ran back into the living room and made funny faces at the baby, trying to get her to laugh. It didn't work, but he tried.

Now, it's the present. My son has stopped whining at me. The baby is still crying and being all, opposite. She's the opposite of what I'm used to. I just put her on the couch and let her cry, hoping she'll fall asleep.

I am NOT a cry-it-out fan. I don't do that. But what else am I supposed to do? It's obvious that she's tired. She won't eat, won't let me put her down, won't let me hold her, and doesn't want to be entertained. She is rubbing her baggy eyes and acting very much like she'd like to sleep, but she's not sleeping.

So I just put her down and typed this blog, hoping that typing out my situation will make it seem less frustrating and terrible.

It worked. I mean, there's people starving in China, or wherever. So, it's okay. I'm not the world's worst mother. It's okay that I snapped at my son. It's okay that I screamed at the top of my lungs so loudly that I hurt people's ears. It's okay that my baby is a crazy manic right now, because she's not usually like that. I mean, there are starving people in China that would love to be where I am right now. You know, if not China, wherever.

(I want to note that as I was typing this, I had placed the weird alien baby that had replaced my baby onto my chest and let her wriggle and whine there. She is now sound asleep.

I am, of course, trapped under the weird alien baby that has replaced my baby. But at least it's quiet.)

I invite you to join my site Dread Mama! Dread Mama is a website about dreadlocks and natural hair for all races/ethnicities. You can register to blog about your dreadlock journey.
http://dreadmama.net

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today was the end of my second week at the women's clinic and i fucking adore it there. the team i work with is great, the patients are utterly amazing women (for the most part, ha...working with public always means you come across a douchebag or two), and i adore every aspect of my job so far, even the boring stuff like charting, filing, scheduling, etc. i'm so grateful for this opportunity, and i feel so good waking up every morning and being *excited* about my job. for the first time in my life i'm not just working *A* job, any job...i'm working THE job, the one that i WANT!

one interesting aspect of the job that i think i've adjusted to well is the constant stream of protesters at our location because we perform surgical and pharmaceutical abortions. they've been out in full force lately, part of their 40 Days of Life lent protest. a few days ago i parked in the patient lot and they started yelling "we can help you with your baby! hey, let us help you with your baby!" and then yesterday when i parked in the employee lot they aimed pictures of jesus at me and glared/looked tragically sad as i walked in the employee entrance. i just did what i've done since i started, smile and keep walking. they don't scare me, and from what i hear that's why they don't harass me or get nasty. some of the women i work with are fearful and nervous around them (not that i blame them) and the protesters can SMELL it on them; they step up their game, yelling and chanting and flashing pictures of dismembered fetuses. "why do you kill babies?! you look like such a nice person, why would you want to do such a thing?!" their point, obviously, is to make our employees feel shitty enough that they'll stop coming to work. fat chance, people. i watch them on the security cameras soemtimes from inside our little bunker of locked doors and safety windows, they pace back and forth back and forth back and forth because they know it's not legal for them to "loiter". they'll stop momentarily to yell at a patient or employee and then they keep pacing, like those little wind-up toy monkeys that trudge around blankly and bang on cymbols. we have volunteer escorts that sit in the lobby and and meet patients outside when they arrive, which all the patients rave about. they're very comforted to have an escort who simply smiles and puts their arm around them, gives them something to focus on besides the harrassment. i was surprised to see that many of the escorts are men; one of them is in his sixties and told me that volunteering as an escort there is his lent commitment for this year. i wanted to hug him but we were talking through safety glass.

the funny thing is that 95% of the patients we see aren't even pregnant, let alone there for an abortion; we do birth control, paps, std testing, the whole range of women's health care, but from the way the protesters speak they clearly either don't realize this or just don't care. i respect their right to object to something they feel is wrong, but i resent their intrusion into a place that should feel safe for the women that come there. i know they'll always be there, it's inevitable, but i already feel very protective of our space.

we had a wonderful meeting today with an outreach minister from a protestant seminary school about the relationship and/or rift between our organization and spirituality. he gave us all a chance to speak about our feelings on theology as it relates to our job and he talked about how the campus he works for is super active in pro-choice support and how part of their mission is to let the world know that strong belief in god doesn't necessarily add up to anti-choice sentiment. it was wonderful to hear the minister give examples of people in his community who have reached out to support women and abortion providers, and how they see our pregnancy counselling work as an extension of what they do as clergy. he sees the work we do with women as very spiritual and his church wants us to know that they acknowledges that, which was oddly moving for me. he offered his services as a counselor for women having a hard time reconciling their beliefs with their reproductive choices, and also talked to us alot about the stresses of our jobs and how working in a field with such vehemently strong reactions-- disgust OR hero worship-- requires alot of effort to keep from getting emotionally burnt out. i havent worked there long enough to feel the same stresses that my co-workers voiced during the meeting but i see how the job takes its toll sometimes. the positivity our team constantly maintains is inspiring to me; even when they're rock-bottom wiped out from the frenetic energy exchange of their jobs they always remain as loving, nurturing, supportive, understanding, and accepting as they always are.

anyway, i just wanted to share the experience of that awesome meeting we had today and let you guys all know how much i'm fucking lurving my job so far. i've been juggling babysitters because we can't get any child care assistance (looong story, but the state has amazingly RUN OUT of money to fund childcare for working poor families) but DD is happy now because *I'M* happy. hopefully in a few weeks when i have a little money i can enroll her in preschool a couple days a week to offset the demands of begging for sitters all the time, but in the meantime we're both not even phased by the current arrangement.

every day when i pick her up after work she says "you helped the sick people at the doctor's office again today, mama?" and i smile and tell her "i did. i think i made them feel better."

http://abcnews.go.com/WN/conversation-women-world-summit/story?id=10074854

I have an internship starting and I'm really trying to get off on the right foot by:

A) Communicating as realistically as possible with my client about time constraints that I have as a still student single mama

B) Learning how to politely decline to do something if it is beyond my time-constraints/realm of knowledge

C) Learning how to SAVE AS MUCH TIME AS POSSIBLE for myself and the client by making sure that we are on THE SAME PAGE design-wise- aka "Getting to know you, getting to know ALL, about you......."

D) My client has worked with designers before, but there are already things coming up- such as asking me to do a logo for a site in two weeks time- where I get the feeling that he's either A) an eternal optimist or B) doesn't really understand how long even simple looking things can take.

E) The hard part for me? The stress level that I don't want to have rise- They are an AMAZING non-profit that really makes waves in our state and at this point, nationwide- and yet they really need design help- that feels like a lot of weight. Yeah. And I can't blow off my classwork because, of course- I am still a student, still learning my chops- and just got through one of the hardest years of my life- finally getting my focus away from the personal to the professional- and here's this amazing opportunity- and I feel like I'm flying by the seat of my pants a bit, and it scares me (though it is really amazing to realize the energy that I'm finding within myself to learn as I go, in a sense).

Advice????

I'm also having moments of that good old mom guilt where I feel like I should be taking my kid ice skating instead of doing design work. I'm the main parent, and really have very little back-up care for him beyond preschool and exhausting myself staying up late.

And I will be hanging out with Jessica Mills, the author of "My Mother Wears Combat Boots".

I will have a short, acoustic set: "Butch Hooker", "I'm a Pimpin' Bitch (But I Ain't No Ho)" and "SuperGenderBender".
More info:

The Anarchist Cafe will happen this year on Friday March 12th from 7-10pm, the night before the Anarchist Bookfair.

We will have food, coffee, tea and performances indoors and a covered hang out space outdoors. We are serving dinner until 9pm or until the food runs out, whichever comes first, with music from 7:30-10. As in past years, the cafe will happen at 225 Potrero Avenue in San Francisco. We are asking for a donation of $5-20 at the door, but no one will be turned away. Door proceeds will go towards the book fair (which has to cover extremely increased rental fees this year) and the Davenport, IA grand jury resisters (see http://davenportgrandjury.wordpress.com for more info).

Please no drugs or alcohol. Note the earlier ending time, so don't show up late and get disappointed.

If you are interested in volunteering at the café contact Mike at mikee1051@yahoo.com and include what you would like to do (make food, do dishes, or work the door) and the approximate times you can be available for.

Performers can email marcus@midnightspecial.net. Please include in your email a brief description of what you would like to do, for how long, your experience and any amplification needs, etc.

See you there!

The @ Café Collective

Friday, 12 March 2010
19:00 - 22:00
225 Potrero Ave @16th Street
San Francisco, CA

Watch this and you will feel AMAZING!

Birdie's FIELD TRIP notes!

Honeyspace-

The landlord had development plans for the property but after the success of the original Honeyspace decided to start charging a monthly rent high enough for many of the artists who helped put the place on the map to have to leave. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/18/arts/design/18gall.html?_r=1
Adam, shown in the article- is now assembling displays at Target, which he has no creative control over. He is now a tortured Target employee.

My friend Mickey- shown below- http://www.honey-space.com/archive/western/1.shtml another one of the artists who gave the place a name (click on the photo to flip through pictures of Gringolandia) lost his space as well.
http://concretemenagerie.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html (scroll down to Follow The White Bunny)

Thomas Beale, the main instigator and advocate for the space, is still going strong- http://www.tbeale.com/ A very dedicated chap who used to blow through a studio in my hometown from time to time- I was dating a tortured marionette maker there, really- lots of sawdust. Here is Tom, aka Rom- http://artwelove.com/insights/archives/2008/07/17/spaces-we-love-honey-s...

And this is the exhibit that I got some wonderful photos of with my old 35mm Canon, high speed film, no flash. Daphane is lovely. http://animalnewyork.com/2010/03/daphane-parks-superconductor-at-honey-s...

I'm really psyched to see how they came out!

Now, someone else has to start a new free-to-artists-gallery to take this one's place....... Honeyspace is right across the street from Graffiti Lab, which I really wanted to visit, but hey, there's always the summer.....

Oh and I had a pint in the White Horse, took photographs of paintings of Dylan Thomas staring back at me, went to see The Secret of Kells at the IFC, ate at the B&H and had some incredible borscht and perogies, and somehow survived thrift store clothes shopping in Brooklyn after 4 hours sleep. All in all, it was pretty sweet.

Hey mamas, how are you? I have had one helluva week but my experiment finally worked!!! I had to rid myself of stress and tension and take it all very slow and really picture the ligation and annealing and it worked!! What a relief! 10 reasons why life is (still) peachy!
- taking the babe to her pre professional dance school programme last Sunday, they built a new studio which you can see in through all 4 walls, i watched the end of her jazz technique class, she rocked it and had this counterpoint timing that made her stand out. All the girls are so beautiful, all different skin tones and sizes but they have more in common with each other physically than they do with their own families! They have this innate grace and subtlety that can break your heart. All these long supple backs and legs.
-Birdhouse in your soul, they might be giants, do you remember this? Its great
-LOst, finally its cooking! ben Linus is forgiven! I think we should all forgive ourselves and everyone else immediately to celebrate.
-veggie sausage for breakfast, the babe had lemon sponge and custard, decadent, no?
-I am watching Lost boys tonight as a Corey Haim memorial, love that film. addiction is one helluva hard row to hoe. The rigorous self honesty required to overcome it is no picnic
-taking a mental health day from the lab and visiting a friend.
-my sharona, the knack
-enough money in the bank to pay a tax bill,making it JUST, but making it
- trashy novel,luxury chocolate and baby's breath for mothers day
-the sun, I am a moon person but you gotta hand it to the big cahuna, it does a stand up job keeping this planet on the boil. Every single food chain begins with the sun accept a couple of geothermal crevices in the midatlantic where a few bacteria live off a bit of sulfur and in turn feed some prawns. I like the way life has inserted a little sun get out clause, a good reminder not to put all our eggs in one basket!
I am going to exercise now, have a great weekend!
love meds

for those of you who were wondering. For it all started with hm five years ago. We moved to Ptown in January! Yippe. Big kids are big.. Small ones are big. WE are doing dandy! here we are in pictures...

This makes me want to put a knife in my eye. Terrifying.
http://www.alternet.org/sex/145994/is_our_sexed-up_society_creating_pros...

i'm goin' *here*. (see attached)

A friend of mine became a grandma recently. She was pregnant at the same time I was pregnant with L-Dawg. In fact, her oldest is about two months younger than L-Dawg. And that little girl, who I used to babysit, and, in fact, used to strap into her cradle board (Navajo family), just had a baby this week. My friend, the mom/grandma told me yesterday. Trying to wrap my brain around this.

http://womensmediacenter.com/blog/2010/03/tomorrow%E2%80%99s-journalism/

Like page 288.
http://books.google.com/books?id=r7f_WZOqVS0C&dq=my+mother+wears+combat+...

http://andiamnotlying.com/2010/types-of-bitches/