An Urban Girl

My girl and I do a lot of outings to the Town and Country Village, a fifty some year old plaza of shops across the street from Stanford in Palo Alto, that was refurbished a few years ago with fresh Spanish tiled roofs, vibrant Palm trees, and some really good new stores. For instance, a cupcake store that carries delicious cupcakes made of only local and organic ingredients.  If you don't believe me about how good they are, just ask the UrbanToddler or look at this long line from Valentine's day that took some people 45 minutes to get through.  That is 45 minutes worth of an accompanying child saying "I want a cupcake" each and every second of it. This picture has been cropped to protect the privacy of an anonymous cupcake lover. And Day One.   A store and resource centre for new parents with all kinds of classes and a knowledgeable staff to boot.  They can help with anything when you are a new parent.  And I mean anything.  Cracked Nipples, The Right fitting

5:50 am:  Nothing like the present to work on my moves... Against my mother's repeated advice throughout the past thirty some years, I can't stop fantasizing of perfection... I can't stop fantasizing of a cozy and orderly home where a toddler lives always giggly and happy.  No crumbs on the floors.  Where lively family discussions (mom, dad, 2 year old) take place nightly over  lovely dinners of grilled protein and veggies.  Each bite placed neatly in the mouth, chewed, and swallowed.  Green veggies sneaking into the mouth are greeted with appreciation and never spat out with disgust.  Perfection. I can't stop fantasizing of mommy getting a decent amount of sleep every night .  Uninterrupted .   When she can wake up ahead of the brood to meet the morning and herself with energy and time. Perfection. But for the past week, this has been our mornings: "Mommy, Daddy, I want to go down stairs.  I want to wear my ballerina dress. [I want to try on 20 pairs of

I write here about cooking and having fun with motherhood.  I write about celebrating an ordinary life with the ones you love to pieces.  I try to inspire joy and to get inspired.   In reading my posts one would assume the world is a happy and safe place.  All is well.  No sign of war.  No sign of fear.  No sign of violation of rights.  No sign of hunger.  Of having to do without the most basics of what human dignity and spirit requires.  But then there are days that I wake up to loud cries of brave poeple hoping to fight for a better life than the one they are being aloud to live. What a luxury to listen to the music you like, walk to the park in safety, hold your husband's hand when you fell like it, feel inspired, do whatever your heart desires, breath in as deeply as you like, without fear.   What a luxury to be entitled to a minimum. Sometimes its nice to stay quiet in respect for those trying to get heard.