My son frequently walks to the neighborhood store for a drink and some candy.

My son often wears a hoodie.  Most recently a Stanford hoodie.

My son puts the hood up when it’s rainy or chilly or if he just feels like it.

So.

Would you question his motives?

Of course not.

Because from reading this blog you know that he is

Middle class

Intelligent

Well-traveled

And comes from a 2 parent household.

He plays the violin, for God’s sake.

There is no reason to be suspicious of him. You know him.

And yet.

Taken out of the context of this blog, taken out of the “safe” labels of #middleclass #intelligent #2parenthousehold,

And now just a nameless brown boy, hood up, walking in YOUR neighborhood…..

What do you think now?

Suspicious some?

Scared some?

Many are.

(If I had a dollar for every neighborhood-watch email that begins with “there’s a suspicious black male….”)

Don’t be surprised and don’t get it twisted.  This is real.  Even for intelligent, middle-class brown boys like mine.  It does not matter who he is or where he comes from.  The suspicion, the fear and the profiling is very real.

Trayvon Martin could have been my son.

So my hoodie is up

For all the brown boys who are watched when they enter the store

Or take a short-cut through another neighborhood

Or cruise around in their parent’s car on a Friday night.

My hoodie is UP.

© 2012, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

Here are some highlights of the days I spent alone:

Musée de l’Orangerie.  It’s most famous for Claude Monet’s Les Nymphéas, but the entire museum is lovely.  It’s a manageable size  and offers a nice selection of modern art masters.  I really enjoyed this museum and highly recommend a visit.  (Photographs were prohibited.)

Jardin des Tuileries.  Although the flowers and trees were not in bloom, it’s still wonderful and a quiet respite from the city.  Even walking through the garden in the rain was enchanting.

Galeries Lafayette.  This department store is gorgeous–and overwhelming.  I had never seen a shoe selection this big; I was dizzy.   I drank hot chocolate at the in-store Angelina and had macarons from one of the two Pierre Hermé boutiques.  The art gallery has a great exhibit on display and there are several champagne bars. Santa Claus welcomes visitors in the enormous toy department and the whole store is gaily decorated for Christmas.

Palais Royal.  Paris has so many grand buildings and this is one of them.  There is a garden, contemporary art columns by Daniel Bruen and high-end boutiques.

Café de Flore.  This famous café on the Left Bank is very expensive, but a great spot to grab a cup of tea and people watch.  I had a nice conversation with an older French gentlemen sitting next to me.

Shakespeare and Company.  Near Notre Dame, this English bookstore is fantastic.  It sells both new and used books; I could have stayed there for hours browsing and reading in one of cozy corners.

Centre Pompidou.  I really liked this museum of contemporary art.  I didn’t see all of it–it’s enormous–but I saw the permanent collections and the Edvard Munch exhibit.  That was a treat because I love his work.  There’s also a viewing platform with fantastic panoramic views of the city.

Sainte-Chapelle.  We missed seeing this church during our last visit to Paris, so I made a point of visiting this chapel built by King Louis IX to house his collection of Passion Relics.  The stained glass literally took my breath away.

Pierre Hermé.  This chocolatier is all the rage in Paris and not just for chocolate; the macarons are supposed to rival Ladurée.  Well, I just had to taste for myself!   It is good, incredible even, but for my money, the best macarons are still at Ladurée.

Église Saint-Sulpice.  Walking out of Pierre Hermé I saw a huge fountain and a beautiful impressive building.   Curious, I had to go see what it was.  It was Église Saint-Sulpice, the second largest church in Paris (it’s slightly smaller than Notre Dame).   It was the 4th church I had entered that day; I also saw Sainte-Chapelle, Notre Dame and St-Germain-desPrés, the oldest church in Paris).

There was so much to see and do and I barley made a dent, but that’s just a great reason to return!

Photos:

Jardin des Tuileries

Sainte-Chapelle

Galeries Lafayette

Galeries Lafayette, art gallery

Galeries Lafayette, ceiling

Café de Flore

Shakespeare and Company

Palais-Royal

Jardin du Palais-Royal

Centre Pompidou

Centre Pompidou, Henri Matisee, Figure décorative sur fond ornemental

Centre Pompidou, Andy Warhol, Ten Lizes

Centre Pompidou, panoramic view

Église Saint-Sulpice

Église Saint-Sulpice, nativity scene

Pierre Hermé macaron

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© 2011 – 2012, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

TIPS ABOUT LONDON

The grocery stores in London are great.  Waitrose and Mark & Spencers are great for fresh food to go and Whole Foods in South Kensington is incredible.  Even if you don’t eat there, just go look and wander around.  Sample the gelato made with buffalo milk!

Public transportation in London is very clean and easy to use.  We bought a one week Oyster Card and it was worth it; we used the tube several times a day.  My daughter (aged 9) didn’t pay to ride.  Crossing the street was harrowing; we felt like we literally risked our lives each time we crossed the street.  But people do it everyday and we didn’t see anyone get hit.  When you see the green man, cross the street and quickly.  Run if you have to!  When he turns red, the cars will go–even if you haven’t made it safely to the other side.

Get out of the city for another perspective.  We took a trip to Windsor & Eton and it was lovely.  Our only regret is that we got a late start and didn’t see as much as we would have liked.  Reserve a whole day to walk around the towns and see the castle leisurely.  Be mindful that the shops close at 6:00 p.m. and they mean it.

Bring a coat; it’s cold!  And it rains, so bring an umbrella–no matter what your husband says.

If you are taking the Eurostar to Paris, one word: margin.

TIPS ABOUT PARIS

Try to speak French.  I learned some conversational French before our trip and used it.  Everyone I spoke to encouraged me (and corrected me, but that was good).  It is true that most people speak English in Paris, but there were a few times when my limited French was our only mode of communication.  I ordered lunch in a tiny boulangerie, asked about buying Metro tickets and talked to a police officer at the Eiffel Tower.  Her little English and my little French produced a whole conversation about the Eiffel Tower lights, fireworks and traveling.  I am inspired to learn more French; I love it!

Walk as much as possible.  Paris is a wonder and the best way to see it is on foot.  Choose a neighborhood, take the Metro or bus there and then walk around.   Turn down tiny streets and see what you can see.  Take a map!  It is a very big city with very small streets and it’s easy to get lost.  And guess what?  Everything is in French!  You WILL get lost, but it’s okay.  Find a cafe, sit down for a cup of tea or a glass of wine and figure it out.  We only took the Metro a few times, the bus twice and the train once; the rest of the time we walked.   As such, we didn’t need an extensive transportation card; we just bought a carnet (book of ten tickets).  Don’t put them in your wallet near your credit card or they may lose their magnetic power; that happened to us.   I really didn’t care for the Metro that much; it wasn’t as direct as the tube in London and not nearly as clean.  I can’t speak for every station, but the few we saw were gritty like New York City subways.  The buses were nicer to ride, but there are many lines and it’s easy to get confused.  The iPhone app “Hop Stop” was invaluable for planning our Paris transportation routes.

As much as we LOVED Paris, there is one thing that we did not like: dog poop.  We love dogs, we just don’t like the owners who don’t pick up after the dogs!  My daughter counted 178 dogs in Paris (several of those were inside restaurants, stores and on the grounds of Versailles; Parisians love their dogs).  This very beautiful city has a very serious dog poop problem.  As my son said, this is very perplexing for a city that loves high-fashion shoes.  Be mindful of where you step!

Restaurants and cafes are not for quick eating: you don’t rush them and they don’t rush you.  Eating in Paris is a leisurely affair, with time to drink, talk and people watch.  Plan for a long meal and enjoy it or get take-out.

Like London, Paris is extremely expensive.  If you’ve ever vacationed in New York City, you have an idea.  If a burger in Atlanta is $10, it’s $15 in New York and $20 or more in Paris.  It is what it is.  Save where you can by eating take-out for breakfast (or make breakfast in your apartment, like we did), grab sandwiches for lunch at a boulangerie and buy snacks at the grocery store.  Then if you have one restaurant meal a day, it’s not too bad.   Do what you must to afford it, but be sure to budget money for meals.  Paris has amazing food!

Cafes, patisseries, and boulangeries are everywhere, but sometimes my kids (and husband) needed a snack at the most inopportune time.  By the second day we got smart: we bought a baguette every morning, cut it up and carried it around in a Ziploc bag.  This worked especially well for snacking in long lines.  We also carried juice boxes and water from the grocery store in a small lunchbox.

Need a bathroom while walking around? Stop at a cafe for a quick drink.

A note about fashion: this is a fashionable place, do try to blend in.  However, comfortable shoes are a must.  This is always a struggle for me–to look fashionable, yet comfortable.  I didn’t really succeed.  I had very cute, Parisian-looking flats, but despite the Cole Hann/Nike Air technology, my silver flats were not meant for walking ALL day like we did.   I compensated by changing shoes mid-day and stretching often.  As for clothes, it was cooler than I thought it would be in Paris and the Weather Channel app was not accurate at all; it was either warmer or cooler than predicted.  Layer with a sweater or jacket and add a fashionable scarf; you can add or remove pieces as needed.  I had packed a pair of black capri tights for my daughter and that worked well under her dresses or shorts for cooler days.  I wish that I would have packed the same for myself and next time I will; I saw many Parisian women with tights under dresses, skirts or shorts and it was a chic (and warm) look.

THE MOST IMPORTANT TIP OF ALL: JUST GO

You will be lost–all the time.  You will not speak the language.  You will get on each other’s nerves.  You will be exhausted.  You will spend so much money that you will have to eat beans for dinner when you return home.

Go anyway.

The adventure you have, the fun you share and the excitement you feel will last a lifetime.

© 2011, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

1. Crepes–on the street! Can you believe that they make the most delicious crepes right on the street?  During a long day of sight seeing we were hungry and lost because we missed our bus stop.  As we stepped off the bus and pulled out a (Google) map to figure our location, there was a crepe stall right in front of us.  Refueled with delicious crepes and re-oriented, we were ready to tackle the rest of our day.  Every lost encounter should be so sweet!

2. Hot chocolate at Angelina. You must go to Angelina for hot chocolate! Go to the one on rue de Rivoli, near the Louvre.  If you look on the website you will see that they have one at Versailles and one in the Louvre, but they are small.  Go to the one on rue de Rivoli; it is beautiful.  The food is expensive, but good; the croque monsieur comes highly recommended and my husband loved it.   You can also just order a hot chocolate and pastry.

3. Courtyards, squares and gardens. Paris is big city with all the usual big city ways:  large buildings, crowded streets and fast cars.  But in the midst of the city chaos are beautiful pockets of calm. Walking around the streets of Paris, just when we were tired or lost (did I mention that we were often lost?) and needed to regroup, bam!-there was a garden, square or courtyard with greenery, flowers and chairs.   The gardens and squares were filled with people talking to friends, reading a book or eating lunch.  As busy as Parisians are, they also make time to relax and recharge.  This mixture of energy and chillaxing is another thing that I love about Paris.

4. The buildings are works of art. I was an art major in college and while I loved most of my art history classes, the lectures on architecture always put me to sleep.  A dark lecture hall and static slides about 18^th century churches?—Time for a nap!  But now I know that it wasn’t architecture that put me to sleep, it was the slides! Walking around Paris I LOVED the architecture! On almost every block I was like a wide-eyed kid pointing, “What’s that building?” “Oooo, I love that building!” Just walking around outside was like being in an art museum.  I started taking photos of all the beautiful doors that I saw on our daily walks around Paris.  How lucky the French are to live in such a beauty city!

5. Surprises around the corner. Paris has so many tiny streets and some of them are only a block long.  It’s so easy to get lost!  It’s also easy to turn down a street and see something fantastic, like a perfect still life of a bike and red store front on a cobblestone pedestrian street.  So delightful!

6. Île Saint-Louis. This is one of two natural island in the Seine river (the other is Île de la Cité, the larger of the two and home of Notre-Dame).  My husband and I fell in love with this beautiful, tiny, romantic island.  It is primarily residential, but there are several boutiques, shops and restaurants on rue Saint-Louis en L’Île.  My children will return for the ice cream at the famous French glacier Berthillon (the Salted Caramel is the best ice cream that I have EVER tasted), but my husband and I will return to Île Saint-Louis just to wander around in it’s beauty.  There’s a nice hotel and a few romantic restaurants that we noted.  We shall return without the children.

7. The Seine. Look at the last photo in this blog post; there is no explanation needed as to why I love the Seine river.

Photos:

Girly eating a crepe.

Angelina.

Angelina’s hot chocolate.

Close up of Angelina’s hot chocolate.

The ferris wheel at Jardin des Tuileries.

The view of Jardin des Tuileries from the ferris wheel.

A door on rue Vielle du Temple.

A perfect Parisian still life on rue des Barres.

A random store front on rue Saint-Louis en L’Île on Île Saint-Louis.

Berthillon Glacier (ice cream shop) on Île Saint-Louis.

Sunset on the Seine and Île Saint-Louis from Pont Louis-Philippe.

Au revoir!

*Read about the rest of our Paris vacation and London adventures too!

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© 2011, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

Of course we had all kinds of delicious food in Paris, but you know my family, we love sweets.  I had read about French macarons and was eager to try them.   Here in America macaroons (spelled with two o’s) are little mounds of coconut cookies, but French macarons (spelled with one o) are entirely different:

A macaron is a sweet confectionery made with egg whites, icing sugar,granulated sugar, almond powder or ground almond, and food coloring. The macaron is commonly filled with buttercream or jam filling sandwiched between two cookies. Its name is derived from an Italian word “maccarone” or “maccherone”. This word is itself derived from ammaccare, meaning crush or beat, used here in reference to thealmond paste which is the principal ingredient. It is meringue-based: made from a mixture of egg whites, almond flour, and both granulated and confectionery sugar.  The confectionery is characterized by its smooth, domed top, ruffled circumference (referred to as the “foot”), and flat base. It is mildly moist and easily melts in the mouth.  -Wikapedia

To learn even more about macarons, read Serious Eats: “Introduction to French Macarons”.

We had our first macaron right down the street from our apartment at Maison Georges Larnicol on rue de Rivoli and after one bite we vowed to have as many macarons as possible while in Paris!  They are insanely delicious!  Delicate, yet bursting with flavor, each bite is heavenly.  I don’t know how they pack all that flavor into such a little tiny cookie.

At Maison Georges Larnicol we had Caramel, Citron (lemon), Bergamot, Pamplemousse (grapefruit) and our favorite at this location, Rose macarons.

Our next macaron tasting was at Le Grand Epicerie Bon Marche, an incredible “grocery store” on the ground floor of the high-end department store Le Bon Marche.  We ate macarons of Framboise (raspberry), Chocolat, Caramel á la Fleur de Sel (salted caramel) and Pêche (peach).  Our favorite macarons  from Le Grand Epicerie Bon Marche were Pêche and Framboise, although all were very good.

Our 3^rd macaron experience was at Angelina.  Since we were there to drink Angelina’s famous hot chocolate (read about it in my next blog post), we only had one macaron on the way out, Manderine Passion. Tropical and fruity, this macaron was different and delicious!  We regret not buying more macarons for later.

Finally we had macarons at the legendary Ladurée.  This was on my “must eat” list and after my first macaron at Maison Georges Larnicol, I really wanted to see if Ladurée’s macarons lived up to the hype.  I can tell you that Ladurée’s macarons were the most expensive ones we tried, but I can also tell you that they were worth every euro.  They are incredible! You can buy them at the shop or have them with a pot of tea in the tea salon next door.  We did both.  The tea was delicious and the salon is beautiful.   Ladurée’s macarons can be packaged to make nice gifts, however it is best to buy gifts at the airport location because macarons must be eaten within 3 days.  We went crazy at Ladurée and tried several flavors: Pistache (pistachio), Chocolat, Cassis Violette (black currant violet), Citron-Thym, Vanille, Coco (coconut), Framboise (raspberry), Café, Caramel á la Fleur de Sel (salted caramel), Pétales de Rose, Melon, Goyave (guava) and Fleur d’ Oranger (orange blossom).  Girly’s favorite was Pistache.  Honestly all the flavors were delicious, but the stand out was Caramel á la Fleur de Sel; it had the perfect mixture of sweet and salty and melted in my mouth.   Mmmmm….it was divine!

It’s a good thing that French macarons are not available near me because I would have a problem!

(Oh, and since leaving France I’ve had a macaron at a “French chocolatier” in Los Angeles.  Not even close.   I’ll wait until my next trip to France to have a real macaron.)

Photos:

Macarons in Maison Georges Larnicol.

Macarons in Ladurée.

Au revior!

*Read about the rest of our Paris vacation and London adventures too!

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© 2011, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

Musée d’Orsay

My family likes going to art museums.  We are members of Atlanta’s High Museum and often visit the art museums in New York City or other places when we travel, so we were excited to see art in Paris.   The first art museum that we toured in Paris was Musée d’Orsay.  This museum is in an old train station so even before we saw the art, we appreciated the beauty and design of the building.  There was a special exhibition of Manet’s early work and that was a treat.   A large part of the museum is dedicated to impressionist art by van Gogh, Monet, Degas, Gauguin—some of my favorite artists.  The kids were excited to see so many paintings that they recognized from books.   (We were not allowed to take photos in the museum.)

Notre-Dame

Notre-Dame was a short walk across the Seine from our apartment, so we had to see it.  While it is a pretty impressive structure from the outside, it is amazing on the inside.   Breathtaking.  Jaw-dropping. Even with all the tourists milling about making noise, there is a stillness and holiness that brought tears to my eyes.   The soaring ceilings, stained glass windows, chapels, altars and art affected me deeply and I must go back again.  I took photos, but photographs cannot capture the beauty of Notre-Dame.  If you ever have a chance, please go see this beauty for yourself.

Musée du Louvre

We couldn’t come to Paris without going to the Louvre and so we did on Bastille Day—along with everyone else who decided to take advantage of the free admission for the holiday.   But the line moved quickly and within 30 minutes we were inside one of the most famous art museums in the world.  I knew it was large and that we wouldn’t be able to see much; I thought maybe we could see a whole wing.  I was wrong.  The Louvre is enormous; we were there for several hours and I think we saw a hallway or two.  It’s that big.  We did make a point of seeing the rock star herself, Mona Lisa.   Despite the massive size of the museum, she was easy to find, we just followed the crowd.   She graciously posed for photos and then sent us off to admire her renaissance peers.

Tour Eiffel

It is actually the one time in Paris that I felt a bit unsafe because there were just so many people at the Eiffel Tower.  We also took the bus there and our bus tickets didn’t work when we boarded, so we were already a little off-balance when we arrived.   But we went right up to the structure, stood underneath and wowed.  It’s impressive.   I was glad we made ourselves go out after a long day of touring.  The twinkling light show was magical.

Château de Versailles

In retrospect we should not have gone to Versailles that day.  We were up late the night before (all week really) and we were tired from 5 full days of touring Paris. Versailles is big, really big.  Really, really big.  It is not the place to go if your feet already hurt before you get there.  Cobblestone streets are not for tired feet.  But it was our last day and if we wanted to see Versailles, it was do or die time.  And so we went.

We saw the chateau gardens (very lovely) and The Grand Trianon and Petit Trianon and some of Marie Antoinette’s estate.  And grass and trees and more gardens.  All lovely.  We saw all of this by walking, walking, WALKING all the day.  At one point my son refused to go any further and just sat down.  It’s a lovely place, gorgeous!  And it was beautifully sunny day, perfect for walking and exploring the extensive grounds—but not for people who were on their last day of a 12 day high energy trip.  By the end of the day I was calling my husband Clark Griswold from National Lampoon’s Vacation; he brought his family all the way to France and we were going to see Versailles, dammit!

Honestly even if we weren’t already exhausted, I think it would be hard to see all of Versailles in one day unless you got there very early (well rested of course) and used one of the transportation options offered at least part of the time.  Silly fools we were, we scoffed at the tram and golf carts.  Don’t make the same mistake.  If you plan to see the chateau, other buildings and grounds on the same day, use transportation in the form of the tram, a segway, a golf cart or bikes.  Biking seemed to be a nice way to get around. You cannot walk all of Versailles in one day without injuring yourself.  Do not try.  Also, it might be a good idea to bring your own lunch unless you plan to eat at one of the restaurants.   Several of the snack bars ran out of food.  Check out my rant video:

We finally toured the chateau and it was amazing! I’m glad Clark Griswold my husband insisted on Versailles Do Or Die.  I do want to go back again to see the parts that we missed.

Photos:

Notre-Dame.

Notre-Dame: cross.

Notre-Dame: stained-glass window.

Tour Eiffel

Musée du Louvre

Me & Girly outside Musée du Louvre

Château de Versailles: in the garden.

Château de Versailles: Hall of Mirrors.

Au revoir!

*Read about the rest of our Paris vacation and our London adventures too!

© 2011, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

I didn’t get to blog from Paris everyday like I had planned to do because we stayed out very late each night; most nights we didn’t even eat dinner until after 9pm (like true Parisians).  So, I’m going to capture our trip in a couple of blog posts.  These are just the highlights of course; our days were very full!

You read about our Eurostar “adventure” from London to Paris in my last blog post; Yikes!  But after we got on the train, we had a lovely ride, a great driver to our Paris apartment and a warm welcome from Catherine, the apartment owner.  While researching Paris accommodations, it quickly became apparent that it would be better for my family to stay in an apartment rather than a hotel.  Somehow I got to the website Haven In Paris and found a lovely apartment for rent in The Marais section of Paris (the 4th arrondissement).  It was perfect!   The apartment was stylish, stocked with everything we needed and spotless.  Catherine even had a bottle of wine, bread, chocolate, fresh flowers and other goodies waiting for us.  The location couldn’t have been better; we were near 2 metro stations, several bus lines and a few blocks walk to the Seine river.  Best of all was the wealth of cafes, restaurants and shops right outside our door.  It’s always tricky renting an apartment online, but we couldn’t have been more pleased.  We made ourselves at home and felt very French.

After a neighborhood tour from Catherine we took off on our own and over the next few days we explored the neighborhood and absolutely fell in love.  We peeked into a few vintage stores and I found a dress that I wanted badly, but didn’t think that I would wear anywhere.  It was too expensive to just hang in my closet, so I took a photo instead.

We had our first macaron right down the street from our apartment at Maison Georges Larnicol on rue de Rivoli and after one bite we vowed to have as many macarons as possible while in Paris!  They are insanely delicious!  Delicate, yet bursting with flavor, each bite is heavenly.  I don’t know how they pack all that flavor into such a little tiny cookie.   You know my family, we like to review food–especially sweets–so look for a blog post comparing different macarons shops.

The food in Paris will make you dizzy; there is so much to eat!  We at in several cafes and restaurants, had take out sandwiches from boulangeries and ate food at the grocery store as well.   I couldn’t possibly comment on every cafe or restaurant, but believe me when I say that was pretty much ALL good!

However, I must comment on a few establishments that were particularly outstanding right in our neighborhood.  Every morning we had croissants from the corner boulangerie for breakfast and took a baguette in our day bag to snack on while touring.  We tasted other boulangeries in the city and they were all good, but our corner place was the best.  A few blocks away on rue Vieille du Temple were a couple of restaurants highly recommended by Catherine.  She was correct; our meals at Le Petit Fer á Cheval and Les Philosophes were outstanding.  I don’t eat beef, but I had to try a tiny bite of my son’s Beouf Bourguignon; wow!  The meat was so tender and the red wine flavor was present, but not overpowering.  It was incredible.

Our neighborhood is also home to a famously delicious falafel place called L’As du Fallafel.  We got falafel and chicken shwarma to go and ate it on the street.  It was huge!

Parisians love ice cream and gelato; I think there was a frozen treat shop on every block.  On the same block as Petit Fer á Cheval and Les Philosophes was the best gelato shop, Amorino.  The gelato was delicious to eat, but also artistic; if you got two flavors on a cone, they designed the scoops in the shape of a rose.

I promise that we did more than eat in Paris!  Read about our sight-seeing adventures in the next blog post.

Photos:

Google Map of our location.

We are inside our apartment.

The view outside the apartment window.

Girly on the apartment building stairs.

Girly outside our apartment building door.

The kids with Catherine, the apartment owner.

Vintage dress at a store on rue Rivoli.

James standing outside “our” boulangerie.

Bread in our boulangerie.

L’As Du Fallafel.

Schwarma from L’as Du Fallefel.

Amorino gelato storefront.

Amorino gelato.

Au revoir!

*Read about our London adventures too!

© 2011, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

Instead it’s 2:00 p.m. and I still haven’t exercised.  I have on gym clothes–it’s a trick that I use to motivate myself, get up and put on gym clothes right away–but it doesn’t always work.  Obviously, because here I am.  I spent the last 2 hours creating a new exercise schedule, so that’s something, if not actually something to break a sweat.

I located and read my contract on my current gym and saw that yes, I can leave without penalty and join the YMCA.  That task was not on my To Do list, but now I can make that awesome new exercise schedule come to life.

And although I only meant to read for 20 minutes while eating lunch, I read a few extra chapters of This Must Be The Place, which is a really good book and hard to put down.

In other words, I have done nothing productive.  Except write this blog post and I only did that because I didn’t want y’all to be worried about me, to think that I had finally gone over the edge after last week and send help.  The fact is that I needed a “me day,” but won’t give myself permission to take one (there’s so much to do!), so instead I silently rebelled against myself and did stuff, but not what I needed to do.

Oh well.

I think that’s going to be one of my 2011 sayings: oh well.   I really need to cut myself some slack sometimes, you know?  I can really be quite crazy with all my stuff to do, lists and excel spread sheets of all my projects and need to yell, “Back off lady!” to myself sometimes.  ”Oh well” works too.

Like this morning.

This morning I woke thinking, “Ugh; I hate getting up.”  But then I remembered one of my New Year’s Resolutions is to “be happier in the mornings,” so I prayed for strength and a better attitude.  It worked and I sang and danced while getting the kids up and ready for school.   Then I went downstairs and my daughter said, “I stepped in something grainy on the floor.”   That would be dog poop, honey.  You stepped in dog poop.  See, it’s on the bottom of this shoe right here.

Someone had stepped in dog poop last night and tracked it in the house…through the house to be exact.  Someone had ignored my suggestion of removing outside shoes in the hall entryway.   Someone had instead walked into the living room and kitchen with poop on their shoes.   Someone was not me, but now me had to clean it up.   Me, who up until that moment was singing and dancing her way to a better morning attitude, was now scowling, ranting and vigorously mopping.  Me, who does not mop.  Me, who was now very unhappy and showing it.

The first day of “be happier in the mornings” was not successful.  The first day of “exercise everyday” didn’t happen.  The first day of “be super productive while the kids are in school and write 3 blog posts a week and be get through that To Do list by the end of March and publish this book and do that thing that I’ve been talking about and….” didn’t happen.

Oh well.

Back off lady!

© 2011 – 2012, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

A heart can get pretty abused that way.

The first time they don’t cry when you leave them with someone else.  The first time they drop your hand and run to catch up with a friend.  The first time they wax poetic about their favorite teacher/babysitter/other special adult with the same rapture that was previously reserved for you.

Your heart breaks, just a little, with each milestone of independence and each snip of the apron strings.  But you shake it off and solider on.  After all, isn’t this your job?  Aren’t you raising them to leave you one day?

At first it happens slowly in early childhood, with enough recovery time to adjust to this new level of parenting.  Get your wig on straight again.  But then during the teen years it’s a full blown assault.  Bam! Bam!  Bam!  There are new adjustments and negotiations that happen at an alarming rate.

At this time, you fully understand the phrase “with my heart in my mouth.”  It’s there so no one can hear you scream.

I’ve been the mother of a teen for a few years now and just like parenting a smaller child, it’s both joyous and heart-wrenching.  Sometimes within the same day.  But I roll with it.  I have learned to take the hugs when I can get them and not take it personal when I don’t.  I have learned to listen when he talks and not take it personal when he doesn’t.   Sometimes he wants to spend time with the family and sometimes he would rather be with friends.  I don’t take it personal.

That’s the key to being the mother of a teen and keeping your heart in tact–don’t take anything personal.

Except this.  This I am taking personal.

How can I not?

I’ve read the books out loud to him since he was 5 years old.  Every. Single. Book.  Even the last books when he was more than old enough to read on his own.

I’ve been to bookstore parties, played trivia games and bingo.

I’ve stood in line–at midnight–with hoards of other fanatics.

I’ve taken him to every movie.

I’ve bought every dvd and watched the movies again.  And again.

I admit, I’ve enjoyed reading the books as much as any kid and I am a fan even without my son, but I love that this was something that we experienced together.  His dad could not follow our long detailed conversations and nor did he try.  This was “our thing”–just us two–for over 10 years.

As I read the last page of the last book I was sad to have that time come to a close.  Yes, I would miss that world, but mostly I would miss sharing that world with my son.

But at least we still had the movie, the last movie, to extend that time together, right?

Wrong.

My son just informed me that he wants to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows with friends.

“But” I said,  my voice sounding small, “that’s our thing.”

Let me say that I think kids should want to spend time with friends.  I encourage it.  It’s healthy and expected but how can he be okay seeing Harry Potter with anyone else but me?

“Sorry,” he said.

He didn’t sound sorry.

He sounded perfectly okay seeing Harry Potter with anyone except me.

Sure, I’ll see the movie.  Alone or with my husband who will keep asking questions because he didn’t read the books and knows nothing about Harry Potter, but will feel sorry for me.   Or maybe with my friend, a Harry Potter fan with children still too small to share her passion.

Either way, it won’t be the same without my son.

I get it; he’s growing, changing and finding his own way in the world.  Trying on who he wants to become.  I fully support that, but sometimes it’s hard to find common ground and I miss how close we used to be.  But at least we had Harry.  Harry and the Wizarding World was always an easy thing between us.

I know that we will be close again one day, when he feels that he’s himself enough to be mine again.  And we’ll find new interests to share.   But we’ll never have Harry again.  That bond is, sadly, prematurely, over.

Can someone please come take this knife–er, Gryffindor sword–out of my heart?

***************

Other posts about me & The Boy that you may like:

A Great Day With The Boy

*Just when I am burnt from blogging, I write from the heart and get an awesome response you, the Funkidivagirl.com community; thanks so much.  Also Blogher liked this post so much that they paid me to syndicate it on their blog!  Read it there and check out other great blog posts too.

© 2010, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

I call myself a pseudo-hippie and even though it was a latent tendency that was sure to erupt at any time despite my Midwestern upbringing, the hippiness emerged when I became pregnant with my first child. I started eating organic food and while reading everything that I could about childbirth and raising a child, I was drawn to “Attachment Parenting”. Childbirth with minimum intervention, co-sleeping, baby-wearing and breastfeeding all made sense to me.

I had a drama-free birth (if you can call being in the worst pain of my life drama-free) and my son took to breastfeeding right away. So while breastfeeding was not difficult for me, it was still awkward and new. I was certainly not adept at breastfeeding in public yet. That would come with time…I would become a breastfeeding pro who could be deep in conversation, discreetly whip out a boob, feed my kid and not miss a beat–while talking to my pastor, no less. But not yet.

Nevertheless, a few weeks after giving birth I found myself accompanying my husband to Will Smith’s house. My husband’s friend DJ Jazzy Jeff was there and invited him to a Playstation gaming tournament. My husband was a big gamer and wanted to go, but didn’t want to leave his wife and new son at home. So he brought us along.

I can hear you gasping now: “She went to Will Smith’s house a few weeks after giving birth? Sleep-deprived, still carrying baby weight and boobs so milk-sensitive that she could leak all over his (presumably) expensive sofa?” Yeah, those were my thoughts too.

But there I was, nestled on a big sofa with Will’s friends–all guys–holding my newborn son. After the initial hellos, pounds and whatssups, everyone forgot about me and the baby as they got deep into the Playstation tournament. And that was fine with me because now my baby was hungry and I had to figure out how to breastfeed him without calling attention to myself. Asking Will–who I really didn’t know–for a private room would be calling attention to myself. Moving off the sofa would be calling attention to myself. Trying to send brainwaves to my husband wasn’t working; he was in gamer-guy heaven and oblivious to my dilemma.

I had no choice; my son was starting to fuss. I put a blanket over my shoulder (I had never done that before; at home I nursed with my shirt open), unbuttoned my shirt and thankfully my son latched on immediately and silently.

Duane Martin, sitting next to me, noticed the silence and the blanket. “Wow, he stopped crying because you put a blanket over his head?” he asked.

“No,” I said, “He’s stopped crying because he was hungry and I now I am feeding him.”

He looked confused for a minute and then I could see the lightbulb go off. “Oh!”

And that was that. The baby was fed, it wasn’t a big deal and none was the wiser except for Duane Martin (who went right back to gaming).

I learned that if I could do it there, with a newborn baby, the only woman in Will Smith’s house during a Playstation gaming tournament, I could breastfeed anywhere. And for the next several years, that’s just what I did.

© 2010, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

My husband has a thing for socks.  Really.  He buys them in bulk and often.  I don’t know what he does with all these socks, but I’ve given up trying to understand.  When we go to Target and he throws yet another bag of socks in the cart, I say nothing.  If I’ve learned anything in almost 17 years of marriage, I’ve learned to pick my battles.  And socks aren’t worth arguing about.

Except if they are holey–according to my husband, that is something to argue about.

Holey socks are the bane of his existence.  Normally oblivious to domestic affairs, the man goes ballistic if anyone in our house wears holey socks.  At first I thought that he was kidding, but he is not.  Not at all.  Unfortunately my son does not share his father’s disdain for holey socks, so you can imagine the arguments that happen in our house.  Or maybe you can’t, but let me tell you, it’s serious.   My husband will rant about how no child of his is going to wear holey socks when he works hard for this family to provide shelter, food, a private school education–and blemish-free socks.

I try to maintain a peaceful household by keeping my son in new socks, but he does his own laundry and I don’t always see when the socks are wearing thin.   And honestly my son just doesn’t care; he will just as soon wear holey socks as in-tact ones.

As I was packing for our trip to LA, I made sure all the socks were worthy.  It was the least that I could do for the man who was going to be working so hard in LA.

But I didn’t check the traveling socks.

As we removed our shoes at airport security, and my son walked through the metal detector, I saw that he had on the holiest socks ever.  With big gaping holes.   So big that there was actually more naked foot visible than sock.  My husband saw it too and his face said what he couldn’t in the presence of security guards: surprise, horror, disgust.   His worst fear about holey socks had been realized–they were seen in public.  His kid was wearing holey socks for the whole world to see!

“What?” asked my son, with a characteristic teenage shrug.

He followed his father’s glare down to his feet.

“Oops, my bad.”

Visit Mama Kat’s Losin It to write a prompt of your own.

Other posts that you may like about my funny family:

The Most Disgusting Thing I’ve Ever Done

Kickin’ It Old School: Yo Momma

© 2010, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

So let’s play: Tripping or Not Tripping?

Picture this: I am at a school function chatting with my husband and two male parents/friends–let’s call them Tweedle Dee  and Tweedle Dum.

I say to my husband, “Can you give me a ride?  It’s too hot to walk back home.”

And Tweedle Dum says, “Oh don’t be a _____.”

(Think: a vulgar word that juvenile guys use for “wimp” that is also a name for a cat.)

Get it?

Now, I didn’t hear this.  But my husband (foolishly, in my opinion) said, “Did you hear what he called you?”  And repeated it.

Say what?

Tweedle Dum must have been loopy from the heat or something because

I. Don’t. Play. That.

But I was very close to other parents and children.  I couldn’t do what I wanted to do…..which was to read him up and down, inside and out.

And when I get going, there is no off button.  It would have been UGLY, right there in front of the whole school.

So, against my nature, I did nothing.

And I’m still mad.

My verdict: HE WAS TRIPPING.

So tell me what you think: Tripping or Not Tripping?  What would have you done in that situation?  Cuss him out or let it ride?

© 2010, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

If we are sharing a meal together, then I deserve your attention.

During our lunch date I understand that sometimes you may be waiting for an important message or call from someone (because we are expected to be always available), but proper etiquette would suggest informing your companion of your expected interruption and if it does occur, excusing yourself, taking care of the business quickly and apologizing to me, your lunch date.  Once the business is handled, put the phone away.   If you would rather tweet or text or talk to your mother on the phone, then don’t invite me to to lunch.   We can be BFFs on Twitter while multitasking, but personal interaction requires undivided attention.

I can hear your computer keys clicking (or your mouth chewing).

Multitasking…this is such a normal part of lives now that we really don’t know how not to do it.  I multitask like everybody else, but I find that I can’t do it very effectively if a live person is involved and you can’t either.  Don’t kid yourself; I know when you are on the computer while also talking to me on the phone.  Your voice takes on that “uh-huh, right, really?” tone that tells me that you are only half-listening to what I’m saying.  Sometimes I use the computer while talking on the phone too, but I do let my callers know that I am otherwise engaged; I don’t try to pretend that I am giving them my undivided attention when I’m not.  If a friend calls and I am a engaged in light computer research then I will say so (I don’t even answer the phone if I am writing, so there’s no conflict there).  At that point we can have a half-hearted conversation under full-disclosure or decide to talk later.

The same rules apply to eating lunch while on the phone.  If we are close like that then just tell me that you are eating lunch, don’t try to pretend that you aren’t and then talk with a full mouth.   However, I draw the line at peeing while on the phone.  It doesn’t sound like running water, it sounds like pee.  Just don’t do it.  Put me on hold, handle your business and then resume the conversation.

I’m not your chauffeur; talk to me.

When my kids are in the car during our everyday transport, I prefer them to be engaged in conversation with me, listening to music or just staring out the window instead of playing games or sending texts on their phone.    Some of the best conversations happen in the car and that’s not possible if their attention is elsewhere.   I know that the car is a good place for an adult passenger to read their emails, return texts or update their Facebook status (“I’m riding in the car on the way to work”….the whole world is waiting to read that, you can’t let them down), but it’s only okay as long as you tell the driver that you are going to do that for a few minutes and excuse yourself from the expected passenger-seat conversation.  Nobody likes to feel like a chauffeur.

Jesus doesn’t follow you on Twitter.

I see people in church with their Blackberries or iPhones, thumbs flying.  I agree that they could be looking at a Bible app (my husband’s excuse) and reading scripture, but it’s such a temptation to quickly check your email or send a tweet (“I’m really enjoying church; the service is awesome today.”) that it’s just better to be totally engaged in church and leave your phone in your pocket.  They do still make Bibles in book form.

A few weeks ago I was at a school function and the speaker was a little long-winded for most of the people in the audience.  As I looked around the room I saw several heads bowed and iPhone lights glowing in the darkened theater.   That was rude.  If you are bored during a speaking event, the courteous thing to do is stare straight ahead and mentally play “what I would do if I hit the lottery tomorrow.”

If you read Emily Post I’m sure that she would tell you the same thing.

What do you think?  Do you think that technology is causing us to become less courteous?  Does it bother you when people text, email or are otherwise distracted in your presence?

© 2010, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

“Love Shack” by B-52s

I secretly think that I am a member of the B-52s; I have the white go-go boots already.  ”Love Shack” is my number one song to put me in a fantastic mood.  It makes me want to dance around and do the pony.   I would kill this song at karaoke!

“Pump” by B-52s

If you think the B-52s greatest hits are old school, think again.  Their latest release is just as rocking as songs of old.  ”Pump” is classic B-52s: addictive guitar riffs and esoteric (or just crazy) lyrics.  Listening to this song makes me wanna swing my hips wildly while shaking a tambourine.

“Back to Love” by The Brand New Heavies

Most of The Brand New Heavies music is funky and groovy–perfect for creating a sunny mood.  But this song has the benefit of uplifting lyrics as well.  It’s a message that everyone needs to remember: “…we seem to lose our way, somehow got lead astray, that’s why I’m here to say, got to get back, get back to love.”

“Groove is in The Heart” by Dee-Lite

Do you see a pattern here?  I like groovy music.  Peace signs, disco balls, go-go boots–give it to me, baby!  This song is a flower-child dance party, with a 90s house beat.  I dare you to listen and stay in your seat.

“Cherish” by Madonna

A bouncy, feel-good beat and sing-aloud lyrics about love keeps this song on my Get Happy playlist.  True, I can’t get the image of Madonna wearing all that lace out of my head, but I don’t hold it against her.  How can I?  I used to dress like her!

“I’m Every Woman” by Chaka-Khan

This song makes me feel like I can conquer the world.  Chaka is belting out those lyrics with the force of nature.  By the end of the song when the music crescendos,  all I need is a cape and a big W on my chest and I’m ready to fly!

“All This Time” by Sting

Soul Cages is one of my favorite albums by Sting; the writing is incredible.  Even though this song is about his father’s death, Sting’s poetic lyrics and great music makes it a up-beat tribute instead of a dirge.   You can feel the maritime intentions in the song–the waves rolling, the sea breeze, the boat rocking.   I love the beach and this song takes me right there.

“Dancing Queen” by ABBA

Yes, I know it’s clichéd, but despite the over-use of this song, it still puts me in a good mood.  With the disco ball twinkling, I can hear the DJ saying, “It’s time for ladies only skate, ladies only.”  In my tube socks and shiny shorts, I can see myself gliding around the roller rink.

“P.Y.T” by Michael Jackson

Michael Jackson showed his talent through many songs, but whenever I play this song I feel his passion and happiness.  And that happiness is then transferred to me.  I don’t try to moon-walk though.

“I Like It Like That” by The Blackout All-Stars

There aren’t that many lyrics to this song, it’s all about the beat.  Latin music is made for dancing; the horns and Congo drums make me want to throw on a twirly skirt, some high heels and do the merengue.

“Haven’t You Heard” by Patrice Rushen

Another song with limited lyrics, “Haven’t You Heard” is all about the music.  Patrice Rushen is an incredible musician and arranger and her blend of jazz, funk and R&B always has me tapping my toes and bopping my head.  This is perfect Sunday afternoon, life-is-good type of music.

“Let’s Go Crazy” by Prince

A musical genius.   I love many a Prince song and different songs put me in different moods.  ”Let’s Go Crazy” is Prince in a zany mood and the song makes me feel zany too.   With lyrics like “let’s look for the purple banana ’til they put us in the truck” how can you not get in a great mood?

“Rebel Yell” by Billy Idol

I love to rock out to this song.  À la Jennifer Beals I want to wear ripped sweatshirts and leg warmers while dancing a scene out of Flashdance.  Or sometimes I play it really loud in my car when I’m frustrated and it never fails to make me calmer and more in control.

“The Biggest Part of Me” by Ambrosia

This is my singing in the shower song, the one that makes me croon into my pretend microphone.  Singing this song I have my audience in the palm of my hand; all eyes are closed and they’re doing the church wave.  This image never fails to put a smile on my face.

“Sunday Morning” by Maroon 5

Smooth, jazzy and groovy, “Sunday Morning” is what I want to hear while taking my dog for a walk.  Sometimes walking my dog can be a chore, but a song like this puts a skip in my step.  My dog thanks you Maroon 5.

“Flashlight” by Parliament

After the 9 second intro, right when the song really begins, I want to jump up, land in a splits, jump up again and do a James Brown spin.  From there I would go into an impressive robot dance, then snake on the floor.  If only.  Instead, I do my own version of a funky dance.

“8th Wonder” by Sugar Hill Gang

The beat is fresh and the rap lyrics memorable.   It’s my ring tone and I have a mini-dance party every time someone calls me.  An interactive party song asking you to sing along, how can you stay in a bad mood reciting lyrics like: “If you’re ready to party and you’re ready to jam, scream it out and say ‘I am (I am) somebody (somebody),’ now you know you are.  You go ah, ah, ah-ah, ooh, ooh.”

“Love of My Life Worldwide” by Erykah Badu (featuring Queen Latifah, Bahamadia & Angie Stone)

I used to love “Funk You Up” by Sequence back in the day and Erykah Badu took a good thing and made it even better.   The addition of Queen Latifah, Bahamadia and original member of Sequence, Angie Stone, adds multiple layers to an already smoking song.  If I could break dance to this song, I would.  Alas, I have to settle for wearing my shell-tops and doing a quick Kid ‘N Play step.

“Woo” by Erykah Badu

Erykah Badu was on fire with the Worldwide Underground album.  This song puts me in happy mood, but more like a mellow, funky, happy mood rather than maniacally happy.  I can’t be bouncing off the wall all the time.  Right here I’m tipping my fedora over one eye, sipping a glass of Prosecco or champagne and bopping my head to the beat.

“Good Life” by Kayne West

It samples one of my other Get Happy songs, Michael’s Jackson’s P.Y.T., and it gets me hyped.  Although Kayne’s version of the good life is not the same as mine, still I throw my hands up in the air and scream, “I’m good.”

© 2010, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

But nothing–NOTHING–compared to a recent experience that I had with my dog.

I was just getting out of the shower when I heard my husband yelling, “Sherrelle, come quick!”   Thinking something was wrong with one of the kids, I ran downstairs in a towel where I was further summoned outside.  Throwing on a coat and my slippers I go out into the winter morning to see my son standing on the sidewalk holding our puppy, Chili Dawg.  And in his mouth is a dead squirrel.

Let’s stop for a minute and rewind.  Did you notice that my husband called me outside?  To take a dead squirrel out of my dog’s mouth while he watched from the porch?   And this is not the first time that I was asked to handle a dead squirrel.  When my dad removed a dead squirrel from our attic he handed it down to me in a trash bag, because he knows that my husband (who was standing right there) wasn’t going anywhere near it.

I’m not squeamish, but even I have my limits.  A dead squirrel in a trash bag is not the same as one hanging out of my dog’s mouth.  Oh, let me clarify: this wasn’t a dead squirrel (like from the attic); my dog had picked up squirrel road kill on his walk.   It was about 3/4 of a squirrel–minus the head–with blood and guts spilling out.  Yeah.

I actually tried to find photo online to accompany this story and there were many to choose from.  For some disturbing reason people take photos of squirrel road kill.   But I couldn’t bring myself to use a photo…my stomach turned just looking at the Google images.  I don’t believe that I will ever look at a squirrel the same again.

As disgusting as it was–AND IT WAS DISGUSTING–what choice did I have?  My kids couldn’t do it and my husband wasn’t going to do it.  My dog’s health depended upon me removing the squirrel from his mouth.  Which was not going to be easy, I could tell.  He had a death-grip on that squirrel and no amount of cajoling or bribing him with treats was working, so I put on rubber gloves and pried his mouth open.  To do this I was very close to the dead squirrel and the smell and site of squirrel guts was over-whelming.  I dry-heaved several times in the process, but finally pried the squirrel out of Chili Dawg’s mouth and threw it on the ground.   I disposed of most of the squirrel pieces before one final heave told me that I had reached my limit.  My husband (watching from the porch) saw that I could go no further and finished picking up the last bit of squirrel guts from the sidewalk.    I spent the next half hour sitting on the porch washing Chili Dawg’s face and brushing his teeth.

Still naked under my coat.

And that was the most disgusting thing that I’ve ever done.

© 2010, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

…….a doll that looks like me.  Christmas: a time for showering the little people in our lives with toys and all that their hearts desire.  This can give adults with so much joy, but it can also produce gut-wretching angst when you can’t find a doll for your little brown girl that looks like her.

*Most of my posts for this series of The 12 Days of Christmas have been fun and light-hearted, but I have been meaning to talk about this subject for awhile and it is something that many people struggle with this time of the year.  Roll with it, think about it and please add your two cents in the comments.

A couple of months ago–well before the holiday season–emails were flying on the Mocha Moms listserv about Addy, an American Girl doll.   If you don’t know about American Girl dolls, let me school you as I just entered this world last year when my daughter asked for an American Girl doll for Christmas.  American Girl historical dolls are based on historical fictional book characters; each doll comes with a set of books that highlights a particular segment of American history.  So I had to check out all the dolls and surprise, surprise  there is only one African American historical doll, Addy.

And Addy is a slave.

Of course.

This is what the Mocha Moms were emailing about: why does Addy have to be a slave?  Is that the ONLY part of African American history worth telling?  Oh, and when they saw Addy’s doll, Ida Bean (although I’m sure she’s historically accurate), Lord, the emails were flying fast and furious.

To be fair, Addy is escaping slavery and her story is a courageous and compelling one; all the American Girl stories show how the characters display bravery and tenacity often in the face of the most trying times in American History.  So, they are good books and the principles of the American Girl company are sound.  Let me be clear: I like the American Girl company and support their mission and products both philosophical and financially.  They also make modern-day “Just Like You” dolls that come in several shades of brown with various hair textures, so the lack of brown dolls in general is not in question; the rift is with the historical dolls.

So again we (“we” being me, my Mocha Moms chapter and I’m certain many African American mothers everywhere) ask: is slavery the only story that we have to tell about the African diaspora in America?  It’s not that slavery isn’t a story worth telling, it’s the fact that we are limited to just one story.  There is so much more.

What about the Harlem Renaissance?  Besides great stories about the art, music and literature of that time period, that doll would have some fly clothes for sure.  And what about the ’60s or ’70s?  There is a doll now, Julie, who is sort of a hippy girl living in Berkley California; couldn’t they at least make an African American friend for Julie who wears a dashiki?   That’s what I’m talking about!

I was not opposed to the Addy doll, but my daughter was not interested in her.  So here was the dilemma: do I let her ask Santa for a white doll?  Well, that’s always the question for African American parents whether it’s American Girl, Barbie or Disney Princesses dolls; are we going to let our daughters play with dolls that don’t look like them?

Of the people I know, for most the answer is a resounding NO.  I too feel that way, but my daughter does have many of the Disney Princesses, who up until Princess Tiana (bless her!), were mostly white (Jasmine is Arabian and Mulan is Asian).  I justified buying those dolls because they were “real people.”  Her Cheetah Girls dolls are Latina, African American, mixed race and white, so they’re okay.  And I think she also has a couple of random white Barbies; I don’t know how they got in there.  So, while my daughter doesn’t exclusively own dolls of color,  that is my strong preference.

She just got the new So In Style Barbies, which I love and think were long over-due, but whew!–those dolls have been controversial and they just hit the market.   The articles in Jezebel.com,  Essence.com, and The Wall Street Journal.com show what a hot topic this is for the African American community;  liking the Barbies or not is the main thread, but that we care immensely about the images that are reflective of our daughters.

Why?  Why do I prefer for my daughter to play with dolls of color?  After all, she has a mixed race background so it shouldn’t matter, right?  Wrong.  No matter what her background, she is a brown girl and everything in the world is telling her that she is marginal.  Including the toy industry.  It is up to my husband and me to tell her that she is beautiful and worthy; one of the many ways we can do that is by providing her with playthings that reflect her image and consequently boost her self-esteem.

Back to the American Girl doll dilemma last Christmas: what doll did Santa bring?  After admittedly a few strong suggestions from me, she asked for and got Josefina, a hispanic doll.   A compromise: not African American, but still of color.  I could get with that.   Both she and I love the Josefina doll; she has a rich culture which makes for good stories and beautiful clothes.

This Christmas she asked for another American Girl doll and again I subtly steered her towards dolls of color, either Kaya, a Native American Indian or Sonali, a modern-day doll who is the friend of a white doll, Chrissa.  I’m not sure of Sonali’s heritage, but she’s brown-skinned.  I’ll take it.

It is true that the toy industry has come a long way from when I was little when dolls of color were few and came in one very dark shade of brown, but they still have a long way to go.  As evidenced by the throngs of African American parents I see in the American Girl Store and the Princess Tiana dolls flying off the shelves, we are responding to the increase in diversity.  We have money and will spend it if given the chance.   Just give us the chance.

*****************

The 12 Days of Christmas by Funkidivagirl

On the 1st day of Christmas my true love gave to me….the words to the song.

On the 2nd day of Christmas my true love gave to me….Christmas cards.

On the 3rd day of Christmas my true love gave to me….Chili Dawg.

On the 4th day of Christmas my true love gave to me…..a Christmas vacation.

On the 5th day of Christmas my true love gave to me…..Santa Claus.

© 2009 – 2011, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

I asked and I answered:

I blog to give information in categories like Techknow Mama, Things I like and Ma-Gyver.

I blog to entertain in Kickin’ It Old School and through many of the silly travel family videos that I post in T as in Tango.

I blog to build a community through posts about myself and my family in What About Me, My Charmed Life or Word From the Mother.  I hope that the more you know about me, the more you will share about yourself; that creates community.

I blog Deep Stuff to foster discussion and conversation.  I’m a thinker and I know you are too.

I blog to save the world from mediocrity.  We’ve got to keep the bar high people.  We’re all fabulous; let’s live it!

Through it all, I blog to tell stories.  As Scott Rosenberg says in his book, Say Everything: How Blogging Began, What It’s Becoming, And Why It Matters, “A [blog] post is a shared memory….And in the end, that’s what we want and need to remember about our lives, and the lives of others: not factual details but meaningful stories.”  Whether I am writing about Disney World, my marriage, Henry Louis Gates or the best cupcakes, I aim to do it with passion, transparency and authenticity in a way that hopefully makes you remember your own stories.

I blog because I have a voice and I have something to say.  And that is reason enough.

© 2009 – 2011, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

This actually happened almost a year ago, but it still cracks me up whenever I think about it.

We were at the W Hotel in Buckhead having a fancy dinner with our kids to celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary.  In the course of normal dinner conversation my husband picked up his wine glass, smelled it, and decided that it smelled too dusty for him and asked for another glass.   Now, I had been married to this man for 15 years at that point and had never seen him smell a glass before, but apparently he says that he does it all the time because dusty glasses are a pet peeve of his.  I started making fun of him because I really think my husband is going to be a crazy old man; I mean some of his current behaviors point in that direction.  I had the kids cracking up by painting a verbal picture of their dad sitting in a corner rocking chair smelling glasses, rocking madly and mumbling to himself.

My husband was not amused and just said, “Yo momma.”

Actually he frequently using this comeback to me when he can’t think of anything else to say and even says it to my son.  My son responds with, “You know, you’re talking about your wife and she’s standing right there.”

Well, that night I had a comeback of my own.   Out of the depths of my memory bank I pulled out a little ditty that I hadn’t said since I was about 9 years old living on the South Side of Chicago and recited it to my husband with requisite finger wagging and facial attitude.

Yo Momma,

Yo Daddy,

Yo greasy Granny,

Got a hole in her panties,

Got a big behind like Frankenstein,

Going beep-beep-beep down Sesame Street!

And then I started laughing uncontrollably.

My kids stared at me in shock and my husband tried to quiet me down, concerned about the other diners, but it took a long time for me to settle back into a Buckhead-like decorum.   It was fun to throw my playground swagger around….I still got it!

© 2009 – 2011, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

There was a man in my neighborhood who walked his pug everyday down my street, past my window.  Twice a day, at the same times, without fail, rain or shine, warm weather or cold.  This man had to be at least 80 years old and the pug looked as old as the man.  Both gray-haired and stout, they walked at the same pace, shuffling slowly along, the old man using a cane.  The kids and I used to call each other to the window whenever they walked by, “Hey, come look; it’s the Old Man and The Pug!”   We were in awe of the old man’s obvious affection for his dog and determination to exercise him each day, despite the physical exertion.  We decided that they were best friends.

When we got Chili Dawg this past spring we felt a greater kinship with the old man and his pug and looked for them on the street.   After actively looking for a few days it dawned on us that in fact we hadn’t seen them for a long time.   In the chaos that comes with getting a new puppy, we hadn’t noticed their absence.   Perhaps they had learned a new walking route, but we didn’t think so; we feared that something had happened to one or both of them.    Upon talking to neighbors, we learned that yes, it was true; the pug had died and the old man is now in a nursing home, alive in body but mentally incapacitated.   I do not know for sure, but perhaps there is a connection between the passing of his best friend and the old man’s willingness to stay lucid and actively engaged in the world.   Perhaps those daily walks gave him a reason to keep going, to get up and to get out.

I did not know the old man or his pug; I never had 2 words with them.  But I miss them walking by my window, a daily reminder of the importance of fresh air and a good walk with a friend.

© 2009, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

We bought every cupcake ourselves in order to give an unbiased, honest review uninfluenced by free food.   This is not a comprehensive list; we did not try every cupcake available for sale in metro Atlanta, so I’m sure that we left out some great cupcakes.  Please give us grace on that point; we could only eat so many cupcakes before we got sick.

Our rating system:

1 cupcake = not very good

2 cupcakes = just okay

3 cupcakes = pretty good

4 cupcakes = very good

5 cupcakes = excellent

THE PANEL

Funkidivagirl

Funkidivagirl looks at the dessert menu before ordering her entrée and only goes to birthday parties for the cake.  Her favorite desserts involve lemon or lime.

The Keyinfluencer

The Keyinfluencer prefers cookies over cake, but he is crazy for chocolate—brownies, cake, cupcakes—he doesn’t discriminate when chocolate is involved.

Captain Cuisine & The Gastro-Teens

A recognized food critic, this kid loves food.  While he wasn’t much of a fan of sweets as a young child, he has since grown to appreciate well-made desserts.

Girly

From the age of a toddler, Girly has rarely met a dessert that she didn’t like.  She can smell sugar a mile away.  To say that she has a sweet-tooth is underrated—she has a mouthful of sweet teeth!

THE CUPCAKES

BELLY

While Belly is not a bakery, they do sell several baked goods and are especially known for their cupcakes.   At $2.50 each Belly’s cupcakes are huge and easily shared with a friend, making them a good deal.  Sadly however, as a group we were not that impressed with Belly’s cupcakes; Captain Cuisine said, “Publix is better.”   The Red Velvet cupcake was especially dry and tasteless to all of us; we rated this 1 cupcake.  The Vanilla Cupcake was a little better, but most of us thought that the icing was too sweet; all of us gave it 2 cupcakes.    The Chocolate Chocolate cupcake was the best; as The Keyinfluencer said, “the frosting had a good taste, but the cake wasn’t moist enough.”  He gave it a respectable 3.5 cupcakes, Funkidivagirl and Captain Cuisine rated it 2 cupcakes, while Girly liked it the most at 4 cupcakes.

THE ATLANTA CUPCAKE FACTORY

We have had cupcakes from The Atlanta Cupcake Factory before at parties, but this was our first time walking in off the street.  The cupcakes are $2.50 each and a good size, not too big or too small.  The menu changes daily, so we were only able to sample what was available.  As The Keyinfluencer made this cupcake run alone, he went a little crazy and got 4 different cupcakes for us to try: Raspberry Sugar Cookie, Salted Carmel Sugar Cookie, Cinnamon Oatmeal and Chocolate Chocolate.  Funkidivagirl was disappointed that lemon or key lime was not available for tasting.

The tasting didn’t start off too good.  None of us liked the Raspberry Sugar Cookie; Girly, The Keyinfluencer and Funkidivagirl all rated it 1 cupcake, while Captain Cuisine gave it 2 cupcakes.

The Salted Carmel Sugar Cookie cupcake didn’t go over too well either; it was  rated 1 cupcake with Girly and Funkidivagirl, while The Keyinfluencer gave it 2 cupcakes.  Captain Cuisine liked it and gave it 4 cupcakes, although he said that it was “a little dry.”

He also really liked the Cinnamon Oatmeal cupcake and thought it was worth 4 1/2 cupcakes.   The Keyinfluencer thought “that it tasted like a great oatmeal cookie” and gave it 3 cupcakes like Funkidivagirl, who doesn’t like oatmeal cookies, but nevertheless thought it was a good cupcake.

The winner for everyone at The Atlanta Cupcake Factory was the Chocolate Chocolate cupcake; three of us rated it 4 cupcakes and thought it was “yummy, amazing and fudgy” and “almost like Watershed’s cake”, while Girly gave it a “shining 5 cupcakes” and said, “I found my heaven cupcake!”

Although we had 2 cupcakes that we didn’t like, over-all we all agreed that The Atlanta Cupcake Factory is a solid place to purchase cupcakes because of  the homemade taste.  We will return to buy the Chocolate Chocolate cupcake and try the other flavors that we missed.

CHOCOLATE PINK CAFÉ

We have been to Chocolate Pink Café a few times and enjoy the lounge/coffeehouse atmosphere as well as the desserts.  We have had several different kinds of desserts there such as the Key Lime Pie, but this time we specifically concentrated on the cupcakes.

Funkidivagirl’s favorite cupcake was the Pink Lemonade; she liked the “burst” of lemon filing and said that “it tastes like a lemon bar” (her favorite dessert).   She gave it a solid 5 cupcakes and Girly agreed.   Although neither is a big fan of lemon, both Captain Cuisine and The Keyinfluencer also liked this cupcake; both gave it 4 cupcakes.

We also tried the Red Velvet cupcake because the Café’s staff said it was an Atlanta favorite.   Funkidivagirl and Captain Cuisine agreed that the cupcake had a delicious, true red velvet flavor and that the icing was tasty and light; they both rated it 4 cupcakes.  The Keyinfluencer thought that it was good enough to rate  3 cupcakes, while Girly thought the icing was too creamy for her; she gave it only 2 cupcakes.

It is worth noting that The Keyinfluencer’s mother really likes the Coconut cupcake, although none of us have tried it (we do not like coconut).

The cupcakes are very small for the expensive price of $3 each, so this is not the most economical place to buy a cupcake, but they are good and the cozy atmosphere makes for a nice over-all cupcake experience.

PIECE OF CAKE

Funkidivagirl was excited to try the cupcakes at Piece of Cake because this is one of her very favorite places to buy a cake; she loves the Orange Cake!   The cupcakes are $2.25 for the small size (which is still a respectable size) and $2.75 for the large ones.  We got 3 different flavors of the small cupcakes: Red Velvet, Lemon and Strawberry.

Unfortunately the Red Velvet cupcake was slightly disappointing; while the icing was very good, the cake tasted below our expectations; it was a little dry.  Two of us gave it a solid 3 cupcakes, Captain Cuisine added ½ a cupcake for a rating of 3 ½ and Girly liked it the best at 4 cupcakes.

More disappointing to Funkidivagirl was the Lemon cupcake; “Where’s the flavor?,” she asked.  While it wasn’t a bad tasting cupcake, the lemon taste was barley perceptible.  Most of us gave it a rating of 2 cupcakes, while Captain Cuisine really like the icing and rated it 3 cupcakes.

Piece of Cake redeemed itself with the Strawberry cupcake, which was delicious.  Both the icing and cake were very fresh tasting; we could tell that real strawberries were used.   Funkidivagirl and The Keyinfluencer rated it 4 cupcakes while Girly gave this “awesome, good and creamy” cupcake a shining 5 cupcakes.   Captain Cuisine is not a fan of strawberry cupcakes, but even he loved the icing; he gave it 3 cupcakes.

Piece of Cake is still one of our favorite places to buy a cake, but we weren’t too impressed with the cupcakes.   The consensus says that If we were in the area and wanted a cupcake, we would stop, but we wouldn’t make a special trip.

THE LITTLE CAKE  BAKERY

­­­­­Although up against steep competition by Piece of Cake down the street, Little Cake looked promising.  The cupcakes were a decent size for the $2.50 price and the flavors were interesting.  We decided to try Strawberry and S’Mores, a popular weekend special.

The Strawberry cupcake elicited the same response from all of us: yuck!  “Not good at all,” “gross,” and “tastes like baking soda” were some of the detailed responses.   It was the direct opposite of Piece of Cake’s Strawberry cupcake.  We all gave it 1 cupcake.

The S’Mores cupcake was somewhat better.  The taste of the chocolate cake was decent, but the graham cracker bottom was soggy.  It didn’t taste like S’Mores at all; there should have been toasted marshmallows on top.   Funkidivagirl and The Keyinfluencer both gave it 2 cupcakes, Captain Cuisine liked it enough to give 3 cupcakes and Girly thought it was good enough to score 4 cupcakes (she really liked the bit of Hersey’s bar used as garnish).

We were not impressed with The Little Cake Bakery and won’t be going back, especially with Piece of Cake right down the street.

MATTY CAKES

We already knew that Matty Cakes has a great Red Velvet cake; we have ordered it many times for Christmas and birthdays.  But we were curious to see if the cupcake was just as tasty.   First of all, the $3 cupcakes are HUGE at Matty Cakes and must be shared; that is just too much cupcake for one person!

Upon tasting we were not disappointed; their Red Velvet cupcake was just as good as their cake.  In other words, it was delicious!   The icing was fluffy and light, yet intense with flavor, while the cake was moist with a distinctly Red Velvet taste.  Everyone gave it an enthusiastic 5 cupcakes and agreed that it beat all other Red Velvet cupcakes that we tasted, hands down.

Next we tried the Pumpkin cupcake.  The icing was light–like whipped cream–and delicious; a dusting of cinnamon gave it extra flavor.  The cake was dense and spicy; it tasted just like pumpkin bread.  We love pumpkin bread, but we wanted a cupcake.   This was pumpkin bread in the shape of a cupcake.  Girly didn’t mind this last point and gave it a score of 5 cupcakes, but Funkidivagirl and Captain Cuisine gave it 4 cupcakes; it was delicious, but lost a point due to it’s lack of cupcakiness.  (The Keyinfluencer was unable to taste this cupcake.)

Matty Cakes’ cupcakes are good and consistent with the quality of their cakes.

CAMICAKES

CamiCakes is the newest cupcake emporium in Atlanta and like The Atlanta Cupcake Factory and Little Cake, they only make cupcakes.   The cupcakes are a nice size for one person, not too big or too small, and priced right at $2.50.   Over the course of two visits we tried several flavors of CamiCakes: Red Velvet, Classic Chocolate on Chocolate, CinnaSwirl, Lemon Drop and Sweet Potato.

Red Velvet was our biggest disappointment from CamiCakes; it wasn’t bad, but it just didn’t taste like Red Velvet.  We all agreed that it deserved 3 cupcakes—pretty good, but not great.

The Keyinfluencer was excited to try the Classic Chocolate on Chocolate.  He said, “I am a chocolate cake fanatic, but this fell short for me.”  He gave it 3 cupcakes, along with Funkidivagirl.   Captain Cuisine liked it a bit more, giving 3 1/2 cupcakes as a rating, while Girly thought it was “very moist, very good; I’ll give it 4 cupcakes.”

CinnaSwirl tasted just like a cinnamon roll and was pronounced “very good” by everyone.  It garnered 5 cupcakes from Captain Cuisine and 4 cupcakes from the rest of the family.

Lemon Drop was a big hit with Funkidivagirl, who is very discriminating about her lemon desserts.   It’s a rating of 5 cupcakes from her all the way!   The entire cake tasted like a lemon pound cake—yummy!–and the icing was a favorite of everyone, even The Keyinfluencer who doesn’t like lemon or icing.  Both he and Girly gave it 4 cupcakes.  Captain Cuisine, while not a fan of lemon cupcakes, liked the icing so much that he rated it 4 1/2 cupcakes

Sweet Potato was our favorite cupcake.  Girly gave it the lowest rating of 4 cupcakes because “I don’t like sweet potatoes, but I like this,” while everyone else gave it an outstanding 5 cupcakes.   We were all amazed by the real sweet potato taste in the cake and loved the cinnamon icing; it was very fluffy and light.   The Keyinfluencer said, “This might be the best cupcake that I’ve ever had.”

Captain Cuisine said that CamiCakes cupcakes are “multi-dimensional in flavor.”  As a bonus, the cupcakes are not only delicious, but also beautiful to look at; each cupcake is perfectly frosted and creatively embellished.

THE WINNERS

Best Chocolate Cupcake: The Atlanta Cupcake Factory

Best Lemon Cupcake: Chocolate Pink Café & CamiCakes

Best Red Velvet Cupcake: Matty Cakes

Best “Special Flavor” Cupcake: Sweet Potato at CamiCakes

Best Place to Hang Out While Eating a Cupcake: Chocolate Pink Café

Best Over-All Place to Buy Cupcakes in Atlanta: CamiCakes

We hope that our cupcake review has provided insight for your quest to find the best cupcake in Atlanta.   But we’re not done, oh no!  We won’t rest until we tried every cupcake in Atlanta…America…the WORLD!

*Funkidivagirl & Captain Cuisine had a chance to try the Key Lime cupcake at The Atlanta Cupcake Factory recently and both loved the moist texture and perfect Key Lime taste.  Funkidivagirl (who loves key lime, and therefore very critical) gave it an enthusiastic 5 cupcakes and Captain Cuisine was in complete agreement.  *Girly also tried it a few weeks later and gave it a “shining 5 cupcakes.”  *Another trip had us trying both the Lemon and Strawberry cupcakes.  Everyone was in agreement that both cupcakes were great and deserved 4 1/2 and 4 cupcakes respectively.

*Funkidivagirl was able to try the Red Velvet cupcake at CamiCakes again as a special birthday treat and it was really yummy this time; she gives it 4 1/2 cupcakes!   There was also a new cupcake there, Orange Cream, that is going to give Piece of Cake’s famous orange cake a run for it’s money.  Ooooh….it is so good!   It is sweet, so you gotta like sugar, but that wasn’t a problem for Funkidivagirl, Captain Cuisine and Girly who all gave it 5 cupcakes.

*Matty Cakes closed November 2010.

*Chocolate Pink Cafe closed December 2010.

© 2009 – 2011, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.