Warm Me Up
Happy Friday peeps! It’s supposed to be another cold one today and snow too. My kids are wishing with all their might for a snow day and I spent the better part of the evening explaining that doing homework was a a safer bet since I’m praying there is no snow day. Ah, the wish/prayer weather counter clash.Either way I wish I had this coat to warm me up. Doesn’t she look wonderful. I hope it’s warm where you are. I’m about tired of freezing.
Pic from the Satorialist
And thanks for your sweet comments on the My Space feature yesterday. You all warm me considerably.
Best,
KwanaUPDATE: 2 hour school snow delay so both win I guess.
Heart of Glass
Growing up I had a small lavender room that was really the dining alcove converted into my bedroom. It was tiny, but I was thrilled to have it and be on my own and out of the room away from my little brothers. I had a fabulous view of the George Washington Bridge and the Hudson River that I now know I didn’t appreciate enough.On the wall facing me was life sized poster of Prince (Le sigh) and on the wall behind me was another life sized poster of Debbie Harry.I also had a cassette player and radio and a pair of headphones that was my lifeline next to my cool circular phone. Music is during these formative years I think just about as important as the books we read. It somehow creeps into our soul and makes us a bit of who we’ll later become. What ideas and ideals we’ll have about life, love, romance, sex is echoed in the music we love. And now that I write that I have to say it does matter what our kids listen too or at least how they process it.
All art that’s put out for human consumption whether through the eyes, ears or mouth matters when it touches the soul. Once it does that it makes a change.
I wonder now how much the playing and replaying of Parallel Lines had on my later relationships.How much the playing of what my kids are listening to now will have on them later?And we won’t even go there with Dirty Mind. Oh Prince. Thanks so much!
Best,
KwanaIt’s Got A Good Beat And You Can Dance To It
Happy Fab Friday People! Well, another week has flown by. What’s up with that? The calender says Spring. There are even crocus cropping up here and there but the thermometer here in New York clearly did not get the memo.Yesterday I was doing the mommy afternoon drive thing with the DD. Joy and fun with teens right? And when this happens you lose all control of your car radio especially with my girl. Cut to me cringing with the rapid fire speed of the station changing.
So this is what’s playing in my 15 year old’s ears and subsequently what’s playing in my ears too right about now. I can’t deal with some of her music, but some I really do like. And hey, she does go for a lot of my 80’s stuff and she gets Prince. The girl has some good taste. In honor of Fab Friday and Simply Seleta Enjoy some Fab teen/mom questionable bonding music.
The Ting Tings
Kid Cudi
Prince babyBest,
KwanaTime to Make The Donuts
What’s Jack up to? Jack is being Jack. He has been a sweetie to me, being so concerned while I’ve been out of it with my back ,but also taking advantage of my slow movements by getting into all sorts of mess like the trash, climbing on tables, going into the kids bags then sprinting under the beds where he knows I can’t go. Be warned, Jack. I will be better soon.As to that I’m determined to get up and out today. I feel a bit better. The back is still hurting some, but it’s not excruciating and I’ve got way too much to do to stay in bed any longer. No matter enticing that may be. Besides, the DH can no longer wait on me. Somebody’s got to make the donuts. And I’ve got my own job to do.
The DD’s dance recital this weekend was wonderful and she was great. Just the best in my not so humble opinion! But honestly, all the girls did a beautiful job. I’m always blown away by the professional show that they, along with their very talented teachers, put together every year. I’m also grateful for the extra performances that they put on for charity. The fact that they give back to the community is wonderful and makes me proud.
I hope you all have a good week ahead. One that is not too busy with a little down time scheduled in. As for me plan to walk lightly, drive slowly and write a lot.Best,
KwanaThe Love Connection
Another Saturday. I’ll be shuffling slowly to see my DD in her yearly dance recital tonight. It’s always such a joy to watch her dance. She’s so beautiful and talented.I know there will be that usual moment where for a second I’ll look and not see the 15 year old young woman she is, but will still see the little 4 your old she was taking her first awkward dance steps. I imagine she will look out and search for me, it won’t show, but I know she will do it. With her heart. She’ll feel me there willing her on through the crowd of hundreds. I’ll feel energy coming back at me. For a moment we’ll be one. In the end I’ll cheer extra loud and let out a big “Woo Hoo!” in the elegant theater to be sure she hears me. She’ll smile big and bow quickly before running off stage.Later she’ll roll her eyes and say I’m soooo embarrassing. Her father will be mad at her for saying it. I won’t take it personally. Not this time. I know it’s expected. I know it’s still love. I’ll know we were one back there on that stage. Just like then all those years ago. It’s the same now. I’m still Mom and she’s still my Dear Daughter.
It’s a Love Connection.Best,
KwanaSophomoric Reading
Thankfully Mr. Electric came by with his silent partner and saved the day. Fixing the faulty plug and quickly pointing out that we had a potential fire hazard in the ancient wiring. Whew. Just call me grateful.
To celebrate I took the kids to the not so free movie night to see Coraline. Yep, they were the oldest kids in the movie and the DS made a good show of protesting, saying he wanted to see Friday the 13th, but admitted to enjoying it all the same. The DD liked it plenty since Coraline was one of her favorite books a few years back and she was actually looking forward to seeing the movie. Especially since she has a creepy painted over crawl space in the back of her closet that we have never been able to open. It’s all very Coraline. Before the movie the Dear Twins and I went to Barnes and Nobel they both had to pick up books for literary circles they are in for their English classes.Check out what counts for 10 grade reading these days:
This is what the DS is reading. The Space Between Us by Thrity Umrigar
Synopsis
Each morning, Bhima, a domestic servant in contemporary Bombay, leaves her own small shanty in the slums to tend to another woman’s house. In Sera Dubash’s home, Bhima scrubs the floors of a house in which she remains an outsider. She cleans furniture she is not permitted to sit on. She washes glasses from which she is not allowed to drink. Yet despite being separated from each other by blood and class, she and Sera find themselves bound by gender and shared life experiences.
Sera is an upper-middle-class Parsi housewife whose opulent surroundings hide the shame and disappointment of her abusive marriage. A widow, she devotes herself to her family, spending much of her time caring for her pregnant daughter, Dinaz, a kindhearted, educated professional, and her charming and successful son-in-law, Viraf.
Bhima, a stoic illiterate hardened by a life of despair and loss, has worked in the Dubash household for more than twenty years. Cursed by fate, she sacrifices all for her beautiful, headstrong granddaughter, Maya, a university student whose education — paid for by Sera — will enable them to escape the slums. But when an unwed Maya becomes pregnant by a man whose identity she refuses to reveal, Bhima’s dreams of a better life for her granddaughter, as well as for herself, may be shattered forever.
Poignant and compelling, evocative and unforgettable, The Space Between Us is an intimate portrait of a distant yet familiar world. Set in modern-day India and witnessed through two compelling and achingly real women, the novel shows how the lives of the rich and the poor are intrinsically connected yet vastly removed from each other, and vividly captures how the bonds of womanhood are pitted against the divisions of class and culture.And here is t
he DD’s is Prisoner of Tehran by Marina NematSynopsis
What would you give up to protect your loved ones? Your life?
In her heartbreaking, triumphant, and elegantly written memoir, Prisoner of Tehran, Marina Nemat tells the heart-pounding story of her life as a young girl in Iran during the early days of Ayatollah Khomeini’s brutal Islamic Revolution.
In January 1982, Marina Nemat, then just sixteen years old, was arrested, tortured, and sentenced to death for political crimes. Until then, her life in Tehran had centered around school, summer parties at the lake, and her crush on Andre, the young man she had met at church. But when math and history were subordinated to the study of the Koran and political propaganda, Marina protested. Her teacher replied, “If you don’t like it, leave.” She did, and, to her surprise, other students followed.
Soon she was arrested with hundreds of other youths who had dared to speak out, and they were taken to the notorious Evin prison in Tehran. Two guards interrogated her. One beat her into unconsciousness; the other, Ali, fell in love with her.
Sentenced to death for refusing to give up the names of her friends, she was minutes from being executed when Ali, using his family connections to Ayatollah Khomeini, plucked her from the firing squad and had her sentence reduced to life in prison. But he exacted a shocking price for saving her life — with a dizzying combination of terror and tenderness, he asked her to marry him and abandon her Christian faith for Islam. If she didn’t, he would see to it that her family was harmed. She spent the next two years as a prisoner of the state, and of the man who held her life, and her family’s lives, in his hands.
Lyrical, passionate, and suffused throughout with grace and sensitivity, Marina Nemat’s memoir is like no other. Her search for emotional redemption envelops her jailers, her husband and his family, and the country of her birth — each of whom she grants the greatest gift of all: forgiveness.
Both look delicious and I want dive into them too. I think I will.Best,
KwanaThe Music is Not Dead
What’s Jack up to? Right now he’s sleeping ever so sweetly after running around the house like crazy dog for the last 3 hours while the twins had friends over for their birthday. I know Jack all that entertaining is exhausting.
So on my Dear Daughter’s i-Pod wedged between him:
and him:
was him:Taken from my playlist. Nice. Makes me feel like I’m doing something right as a parent. Of course she also knows all the words to Musical Youth’s ‘Pass the Dutchie‘ too. Eek!Sidebar: How about that Miracle on the Hudson? Amazing. My mouth was hanging open as this was breaking news. I’m glad I wasn’t driving down the west side highway during that time as I’d have surely crashed from the shock. The pilot is a real hero (and the best pilot ever) and once again I’m so proud of the super fast New York responders. Even on water they can’t be beat. I just love New York!
Best,Kwana15 Happy Birthday Dear Twins!
15 is the magic number, yes it is, it’s the magic number…
Did you know that throughout the bible the number 15 has been thought to symbolize: deliverance, divine grace, restoration, restitution, resurrection and healing? All wonderful thoughts for you my two loves this year.
Here are some examples taken from here.
-The Ark was borne by the Flood fifteen cubits upwards, Genesis 7:20.
-Hezekiah’s reprieve from death was fifteen years, 2 Kings 20:6.
-The Jews were delivered from death under Esther on the fifteenth day of the month (9:18,21). This is specially significant, as we have seen, that their sentence to death was connected with the number thirteen.
-Bethany, where Lazarus was raised, and from whence the Lord ascended, was fifteen furlongs from Jerusalem, John 11:18.
-Paul’s ship anchored safely in fifteen fathoms on the 14th day, after thirteen days of toil and trial, Acts 27:21.
-On the fifteenth day of the first month was the feast of unleavened bread, Leviticus 23:6; and
-On the fifteenth day of the seventh month was the feast of Tabernacles (v 34).Oh, can it really be true, that you two are 15? Nah. It just can’t be. I close my eyes and it was yesterday that I was holding both of you in my one arm and balancing two bottles with my other hand. It felt so overwhelming, but I took solace in thinking that God gave me two arms and two babies for a reason. You know, I can still feel the weight on that arm and smell your sweet smells. It’s so very real, every smile, every tear, every wail. From yesterday, to today, to forever the love never ends.
Love,
MomIn my dreams…
I’m as cool as this woman.
Taken from here. Don’t we love The Satorialist?
Of course to achieve this level of coolness would take a complete lifestyle change which would begin with me running away from my current life and jetting off to Paris to go underground (see yesterday’s post below). Some days that sounds like a pretty appealing idea. If only there were a mommy protection program? But freakin’ Big Brother is always watching so we can’t get escape the grid, at least not this fashionably, I’m sure.
Best,
KwanaSix Things
Happy Monday! Does that saying make any sense? I guess it does in the fact that Monday can be thought of as a day of new beginnings and all that. See I’m still working on that optimism thing for the New Year. Go me.
That said, I’ve spent a lot of time not sleeping this weekend. My Gemini mind was racing, racing, racing with all the things I want to do, need to do, have to do. Not to mention the worrying, which goes against what I wanted for the New Year, but that’s going to take a bit more than just wishing to make it so. Grrr… teens!
One of the thoughts that came flipping through my head at about 4 AM is the fact that I hadn’t responded to a meme I was ever to sweetly tagged on by Great Dame back in December. So sorry, Great Dame. I hope to lick this procrastination thing one day. Sigh.
Now this type of Meme I had done before, but being the New Year I decided I can give it a go again. I hope I don’t repeat myself. Sorry if I’m a bore.Here are the rules:
1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself. (See below)
4. Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them. (See further below…)
5. Let each person know they’ve been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.Here I go…
1. I was taught Irish literature in high School by Pulitzer Prize winning author Frank McCourt. (1b. I’m a name dropper. I just learned that about myself. Go figure.)He was an amazing teacher and gave me a deeper love of literature and writers that I didn’t have before his class. Thanks Mr. McCourt! (not that he reads this blog) And yes, our desks did look like that in the old school.
2. The same Frank McCourt was responsible for directing me to my job where I then met my DH. Thanks again Mr. McCourt.
3. As a teenager I had a lavender room which was really a converted dining alcove. On one wall was a life sized poster of Prince. On the opposite wall was Debbie Harry.
4. This was my phone. I had it in white and adored it.
5. I’m crazy about sexy historical romances even though I write contemporary (I just can’t imagine doing all that research and getting it right). I just picked up this one: Vanquished by Hope Tarr after she gave a wonderful talk on her writing process at our RWA NYC chapter meeting on Saturday. I can’t wait to dive in.
6. I’m really not a dog person. The whole Jack thing boggles my mind. So please don’t let your dog just jump all over me and I won’t let mine. I know he’s absolutely crazy.
I’m not going to tag anyone because I think this tag has gone around a few times over and I don’t want you all to throw tomatoes at me. Instead I’m going to put out a challenge to any brave souls out there willing to pick it up or any of you just looking for a subject to post on, feel free to tag yourself. Just put a comment here and let me know you’re doing it. I’d love to read a few random facts about you.Have fun!
Best,
Kwana
