I
have to say that I love Baby Phat and Kimora Lee Simmons for what they
bring to fashion. Now if only she and designers like her could make
their clothes affordable. Even Beyonce called her House of Dereon
discounted line, Dereon, affordable. $70-100 for a pair of jeans is not
affordable to the girls and young women that look up to them. I’m sure
that if you asked them what they were able to afford when they were the
age of their demographic, they would NOT say $70 jeans. Then again,
Beyonce was opening shows at 14 and Kimora was the face of Chanel at
15, so what do I know.
NY fashion runways lack black and Asian models » Netscape.com
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This is a real female role model. Forget all the singers, actresses, and hotel heiresses you see in the media. This is a woman who breaks barriers.
Keiko Tsuyama was the first woman to work in the business department of Kyodo, Japan’s largest newswire, then became thefirst to work in North America. Today, she’s settled in New York as a freelancer and covers the culture gap.
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As you’ve probably read on Tom’s site, he was looking for valid content about being a dad. Not helping mom, but actually being a father. After a long search, he found BeAGoodDad, a blogger whose wife also has a blog, www.BeAGoodMom.com. While on the site I found this entry, Be A Good Mom » Shout-Out- BAGD. I just want everyone to know that this is what a father and a man should be like, and I am lucky to just such in my life.
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He is clocked in and ready to go. I am not trying to make it look like “he is a big help to me.†What I am saying is that is half of everything that goes on around here. He is not my parenting assistant. He is not my household vice president. Sure, we each have our spheres of influence, but those are defined by our capabilities, skills and interests, not antiquated gender roles.
It’s been quite a ride thus far and I have to say that I love every minute of it. Sure, I’m up at 2:47am just to give myself a chance to write and get some other things done but it’s worth it to have Beany in my life. I mean, look at him. What wouldn’t I do for him? What wouldn’t you do for him? Whatever he wants, with those puppydog eyes, I’ll probably give it to him.
Visiting Grammie
Picture provided by Pa
And, yes, it’s a boy. I know he’s cute enough to be a girl but it’s a boy.
On Saturday a few family and friends came out to the Ross Pinetum in Central Park for a Potluck Picnic and to meet Beany. Besides a few people having a hard time finding the spot, we all had a blast. My uncle and a couple college friends came out. Tom’s family was there, including 3 of Beany’s cousins. We even got to meet our Belly Buddies from WhatToExpect.com. We had never met them before but we knew it was them as soon as we saw them. I think Beany may miss my curly hair because he smiled at my friend with curly hair a little too much for my taste. He was held by his big cousins then passed around for everyone to enjoy. After a while, and Pa was back from the store with cutlery, we finally ate. We munched on gourmet and not-so-gourmet cookies, fruit, pasta salad, nachos, chips and salsa, and , for dessert, carrot cake. And Beany had gourmet Enfamil and was then the centerpiece for our dining experience. Anyway, I think everyone had fun. There was good food, games, good conversation, laughter, and a lot of love all on a very nice day. So I’d like to thank everyone for coming out and I hope you’ll all share your pictures because Tom and I only got one.
So we made it through Beany’s first round of vaccinations. He cried for a total of three minutes during the shots and I cried for two minutes after. 
So Tom and I are looking for a website for Beany. We’ve been having a little trouble. Since he has such a common name, there isn’t much to choose from. I looked up his name as a domain and it’s some comedian’s site. There were some available to be “repurchased” through a dealer, but that feels so icky using someone else’s domain. I want his domain to be unique. Something he put on business card when he’s older and not be ashamed of it.
I don’t know just yet what his site will contain…but I’m thinking “Beany: A History in Pictures.” We’ll see.
BTW Beany goes in for his first shots tomorrow and I’m a little scared. He’s just sitting here smiling and laughing without the slightest clue that he’ll have 4 needles pushed into his little body in less than 16 hours. 
I just wanted to post this gorgeous picture of Beany. I’m not sure yet if his eyes will stay this color or change, but I had to show that his eyes are just as intense as his dad’s.
So it’s been about 6 weeks that I’ve been a mother and I have to say that it is not at all what I expected. Yes it’s hard, but it’s also very rewarding. I’m sure that are many people who would ask me, “What do you know? You’ve only been a mother for 6 weeks.” My answer: Love. I know love and that has made me an expert mother. Even if I am only an expert on Beany, I’m an expert nonetheless.
Motherhood has been a roller coaster of emotion so far. There’s anxiety, fear, love, devotion, obsessiveness, wanting, impatience, gratefulness, and the feeling of being blessed. However, being a parent is trying. I have to admit that at times I’ve had to lay him down and just let him scream. And I have done at this only when at my boiling point. It hurts to do it, but it works.
It’s been so long since my last post. A lot has happened. The main thing, as you can see, is that I had a baby. I never thought I could have such a beautiful child. His name is Beany and he is the love of my life.
A Happy Father’s Day blast from the past…err…future. You get what I mean.
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Sea. 2, Ep. 26
For a Father’s Day project, Elroy films George, who also uses the camera to follow a lovesick Astro.
I’ve just come from the Zigfield Theatre in NY, seeing Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End and I have to say that it was not at all what I expected. It wasn’t the best script and the scenes just didn’t flow well. Half the time we (me, Tom, and my dad) had trouble following the plot. They didn’t explain things very well-most of the time because the scene was overrun with too many jokes, bantor, and innuendos.
One plus was the action sequences. They were great! The camera followed well and the cinematagraphy was on point. And the special effects were a key element in the movie.
All in all, I have to say that we were all highly disapponted.
Ok. So my morning commute leaves me tainted for abut an hour at work and I don’t want to talk to anyone. The problem is that I HATE for strangers to touch me. Living in New York and using public mass transit, this is somthing that is unavoidable. This morning, I stood on the platform of the 6 train. We knew where the doors were going to stop so we stood just off to the side in a line waiting for the next train. I’m second or third in line when this woman wearing a gaudy suede coat and fake fur hat dashes right in front of me. She was so close I could see my breath making her fake fur feathers move. I tried to stay calm because I realize that I’m not in London and lines aren’t important to people in the good ole US of A. Fortunately, when the train came so many people poured out that she was pushed back and I made my way in. Unfortunately, she ended up standing right behind me. It annoyed me when she bumped me so I bumped back. Then, at my stop, she reaches out and touches my arm to get me move me out of the way with her nasty hand that had been just touching an infested NYC subway pole. I grimmaced, yelled, “EXCUSE YOU! DON’T TOUCH ME!”, nearly pushed her, and made my way off the train. She bolted by me and I had the urge to follow her just so i could keep touching her with random pieces of garbage all the way to her destination.
Ok. So this whole hormone thing that happens with pregnancy is everything that people make it out to be. You really do feel like the littlest something is a monsterous catastrophe.
Example: Tom and I were going to celebrate some great news he got at work by me cooking his favorite dish, meatloaf (yes, I can cook). Well I was getting home before him so the plan was that after getting home he would have to wait no longer than a half hour before eating. So on my way in, I stopped off at the grocery store to pick up all the ingredients. It was packed but I got lucky and was second in line. I got in and began to prepare when I realized I didn’t have a backing pan. It was the only thing I forgot. I had to get back before Tom. It was hard to run, so let’s just say I rushed back to the store, grabbed a pack of disposable pans, got to the front, and saw that the lines were worse than before. I stood in the 10 items or less line where there was a new casheir waiting on all the WIC, EBT, and food stamp holders. It was excruciating. I stood there longer than it took to complete the entire first trip from entry to exit. At the front of the line, I threw the $2 at the guya and ran from the store without my change or a bag. The whole time I was on my way back I kept thinking, “Please don’t let me see him walking across the street. Please don’t let him be at home.” I turn the key in the lock after jogging up the stairs and, of course, there’s Tom taking off his coat. I collapsed on the couch and began sobbing like my dog had just died. Tom obviously freaked, as this was a first for both of us. He tried to comfort me, but nothing seemed to stop it from happening. I tried to relay my story only to release more sobs instead. It was an incrdible pregnancy milestone that I hope I will forget.
Apparently I live in a place where it’s ok to spit indoors. A man can shove a pregnant lady out of his way so he can get to the seat before she does. It’s okay to stare at the car and driver that almost hit you when you were crossing, diagonally, through the intersection at 96th & Broadway. It’s okay to call the subway conductor a bitch because when she said stand clear of the closing doors you just stood there with one arm in the train talking to some woman across the platform that you don’t even know.
And the stupid people in New York are even worse. How many times, loud enough to drown out the sound of bustling commuters, I’ve heard over the P.A. “The number one train will make it’s last stop at 96th Street. Again, there is no number one train service beyond 96th Street. To get beyond 96th Street please transfer to the A, B, C, or E trains located just under your nose.” They’ll repeat this twelve times. That’s not the stupid part. The stupid part is the number of people walking up to attendants and other passengers asking, “So the one isn’t going above 96th Street?”, “Is the one going to stop at 96th Street?”, “Will the one still stop and 125th Street?”, “What train do I transfer to to get beyond 96th Street?” Agh! People, please. It’s not rocket science. How long do you have to live in this city (most of the questions I hear have a Bronx accent) before you realize just how to navigate your way home?
So after seeing all of this on the way home, I was tempted to do some good. I saw an old lady carrying so many bags that her cane had become more of a nuisance than an aid. I thought, “Maybe she could use some help. I know my gran walked much better holding an elbow than a cane.” But then something flashed in my head. A headline in the next morning’s Post: “Good Samaritan Slays Granny After Being Caned to Miscarraige” Let’s just say those whimsical thoughts of holding this place together, one good deed at a time, have fled from my mind.
