There is a pitch-black place in the center of my constitution. An inescapable, dark part of my makeup. A place where my father departed far too soon and my mother, who had issues of her own to contend with and consequently could never seem to see the forest for the trees, decided to deny us all. (Read the rest)
Digging through the archives and late to the #tbt party, I unearth this one. A perfect Spring day, a handful of years ago, with me and my Baby Lady. We were out and about. Clarion Alley. Enjoying the little things. When we stumbled upon the band recording a video for their song, “Little Things.” Sorry, but you’ll have to watch it to the end to catch the magic. (Read the rest)
This is happening as we speak. Be sure to catch our breakdown of the day spent with NBC’s Today Show. Coming soon!
Ciao for now,
There is an elephant in the room at our house and that is not a self-deprecating fat joke.
The elephant is race, and I find myself thinking a great deal these days about its connotations and its future effects on my daughters. (Read the rest)
To The Opponents Of California’s Proposed “Diaper Mandate”
Get behind this! The whole world is [probably not] watching!
My fellow Californians, a long overdue “change” is making its way to the State Assembly in Sacramento, as we speak, and the revolution will NOT be televised!
Senate bills Sb1358 and Sb1350, aka the Diaper Mandate, have cleared the California State Senate Transportation and Housing Committee in an effort to give us men equal access to baby changing stations in public restrooms. (Read the rest)
What a mixed bag independence is.
I’ve been writing a lot, lately, which is great. I’ve been reading a lot, lately, online, which is also great, despite the internet being an unrelenting source of every kind of unsolicited parenting advice you could ever not have asked for. (Read the rest)
It is morning and the sun’s nimble digits have just started to part our blinds.
It is Sunday, so I can’t be at the keyboard long since my Mini Me’s are already up and raring to go terrorize the neighborhood playground. (Read the rest)
Dear Rap Music,
I’ve been known to throw my hands in the air and wave em like I just don’t care. I used to hit up your shows and you could often find me in the club, bottle full of bub, where, if your beat thumped enough and your hook looped just right I could be enticed to jump m’er f’er, jump m’er f’er jump… (and while I’ve never really been down with O.P.P. (Read the rest)