Phavorite Things: Green Toys

I had to wait to post this one until our friend Rowan got his birthday present in the mail...it was a Tugboat!! Exactly like the one Singer is loving on in the photo above. I recently found an incredible (San Francisco-based) toy company called Green Toys. Whole Foods in Philly sells these 100% recycled treasures, and I'm smitten. Plus, all toys are made in the USA!

Now that I've found a good toy company with products I love, I think I might be in trouble.

Nothing like a good tugboat, huh Singer?
Glub glub,
Jess

Phavorite Things: Adventure Aquarium

All photos by Laura Chisholm

Across the Ben Franklin Bridge is a new Phavorite: Adventure Aquarium in Camden, NJ. With my handy EZ Pass, it takes about ten minutes to get to this underwater jewel. Singer and I visited the aquarium with our friends Mommy Laura and Alma and Mommy Sam and Elias. And let me tell you, NOTHING engages babies more than fish!


Singer was way more interested in the sea creatures than in posing for a pic.


Here's Sam and Elias with us. We're all smiles, but our boys are wanting more tank time. Go figure.

It turns out that kids of all ages, even the wee ones get a kick out of Aquariums. And when we got home, Singer went to bed early. That right there earns Adventure Aquarium a top spot on the list of Phaves.

Hurray for indoor activities!!
--Jess

Phavorite Things: Urban Jungle on Passyunk Ave.

I'm starting a new "Phavorite Things" series of posts for the holidays. Philly is full of beautiful, wonderful places, ideas, and people...and I want to showcase as many as possible this month.

Let's start with Urban Jungle on East Passyunk Ave. in South Philly. I discovered this gardening oasis while Singer and I were strolling, and after ducking into the garage door to find an old brick warehouse full of funky greenery gems, I've been obsessed.


Urban Jungle specializes in "vertical gardening" which is perfect for Philadelphia; limited "yard space" but plenty of wall space. The landscape designers create beautiful gardens that you actually hang on the wall. Also, the center sells home decor and seasonal items that are truly unique and urban-chic.

Check out these huge, lovely planters:
And here's wreath designer Rachel in action:


Yesterday we were there to pick up some gifts for John's mom, and I ended up coming home with this treasure:

We call it Space Wreath.

Urban Jungle's home-grown beauty earns the title "Phavorite Thing" this holiday season. And as I'm writing this, I'm fantasizing about going back and buying more ornaments. Maybe I should stop.

Kicking off the season with a green start!
Jess

For Aunt Katie...and Gig Em!!!!!

It's 7:49 AM, and Little Mister and I have been up for a while now because SOMEONE is teething and waking early these days. But, Aunt Katie Kelly is going to e-beat me up if I don't post something.

It's been hard lately to return emails, blog, and really do much of anything because the same SOMEONE who is teething is also crawling. Yep, it's true. Singer Nash is mobile! Granted, his "crawling" is backwards only at this point. But it gets him where he wants to go, which is everywhere. I've been trying to get a good video, but nothing that showcases his new talent yet. As soon as I do, though, I'll post it!!

In the meantime, enjoy the abominable snowman :) Baby, it's cold up here!

And I have to give a special shout-out for my husband who's dearly beloved college football team (Texas A&M Aggies) is going to the Cotton Bowl!!!

Bundled,
Jess

Tectonic Theater Project stops by to kick some ass!

Tectonic Theater Project
photo credit: Michael Lutch

I had the privilege of attending The Laramie Project: Ten Years Later at the Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts on UPenn's Campus. This NY-based theatre company is called Tectonic Theater Project, and they are so soulful.

Sometimes it seems like theatre in today's standards is measured according to the spectacle of the performance. How glitzy and glamorous was the experience for the patron? This is all well and good if you like big splashy Broadway musicals (which I do...I love them), but there is a wave of theatre attached to the social and political movements of the time, and lately, I'm drawn to these performances...more so than I was ten years ago. Perhaps it's my grown-up-ness, or maybe I identify with a more down-to-earth performance quality. Who knows? All I can say is this company spoke to me. I mean REALLY spoke to me. When theatre turns you on, you know the company is up to something big.

These actors were more like storytellers. They introduced themselves to the audience with a genuine spirit, and when they quietly slipped into character, it wasn't in a "look at ME, I'm ACTING!" sort of way. It was as if the characterization and physicality was completely stripped down to a basic allusion. The actor alluded to the character, yet the transformation was complete and successful because the audience lost themselves in each simple moment. It was pretty haunting.

Matthew Shepard
photo credit: digitaljournal.com

For those readers who don't know about The Laramie Project, it's a play written in documentary-fashion based on the interviews that were collected when the company members visited Laramie, WY after Matthew Shepard's brutal murder in 1998. Matthew Shepard was a gay college student and actor, and he was targeted because of his sexuality. This hate crime struck the community of Laramie to the core, and the world watched through a glass bell jar as the town mourned the crime and the hate that poisoned their environment. Ten years later, the company re-visited Laramie to document the changes the community had made. Unfortunately, this companion play reveals that not much had changed other than the fact that very few townspeople wanted to discuss Matthew's death at all. Denial surfaced through just about every scene; denial of the murder as a hate crime, denial of homosexual citizens' basic human rights, denial of a voice, denial of the power to change, denial of the will to change. The play touched on so many facets of the Gay Rights social movement, and the audience was asked to consider and reflect on this movement as the civil rights movement of the last decade.

As a new mother to a son, I identified most with the Judy Shepard scene. After her son's death, Judy became an activist, pursuing and lobbying for new legislature against hate crimes (which Obama passed!!). She spoke of people pleading with her to end the struggle and to let Matthew rest. "You're keeping Matthew alive by doing all this." And she replied, "that is exactly why I'm doing this." In the end, she expressed anger that ten years has gone by, but little difference has been made. Little has changed.

Tectonic Theater project is using storytelling as a progressive tool to forge the Gay Rights social movement. In the same way that Louis Valdez fathered Teatro Compesino in response to Mexican migrant farmworkers' human rights struggle, or Lorraine Hansberry wrote A Raisin in the Sun in 1959 black Chicago, artists will continue to create in the name of their fight. The artist needs the movement to facilitate it's inspiration, but the movement needs the artist to stir the fire.

photo credit: P.A.P

Stirred,
Jess

One Lovely Fall Day

Today was really beautiful. We bundled up and headed to Kelly Drive for a day at Philadelphia Museum of Art. The little man was in awe; constantly looking around and smiling at the art and the patrons.

Then we took Kelly Drive into Mt. Airy for some suburbian fall foliage, and we ended up in Manayunk for beers at Manayunk Brewing Company. Singer slept the whole time we were at the Brewing Co, so John and I felt like we were on a date :)

All in all, I love Fall.
--Jess

PS: Notice anything special about this NEW STROLLER!?!?!?!?

For Laura and Ladybug

Great news! I'm going to start keeping my friend Laura's baby girl! I am so excited about this, but not nearly as excited as Singer :) Alma and Singer are buds, and I'm sure there will be hilarious adventures to share with the blog world now that I will periodically have TWO babies!

oh, and Laura requested the pic. I know you're smiling, Laura, at Mr. Stay Puft.

Hope everyone's Halloween was spooky!
--Jess

Music video

I love everything about this:

Father and Son (Noel and Noel)

Really, Jess!?!?! Really?!?! or Why I'm a Phan

This post is dedicated to my Texas friends who are surprised by two new facts about me: 1) I like baseball and 2) I'm a Phillies phan.

Number two came before number one. When we moved up here to South Philly, and were bombarded by Phillies paraphernalia, I thought "Geez!! These Philadelphians sure are crazy about their team." I'm serious. Walking down the street, I'd say at least 2/3 of the pedestrians are sporting some Victorino or Utley jersey. And, who is this Utley character? Ladies!! Feast your eyes on this:


He is so hot.

So, at first the air horns blowing out of my neighbors' front doors were annoying, and the Phanatic was weird. But, after spending two seasons in Philadelphia, I've grown to ADORE the air horns and the Phanatic. And John and I find ourselves glued to the TV after Singer has gone to bed, whispering "SHIT!!" and "COME ON, WERTH!!" to each other.

We are super sad that the Phils aren't playing in the World Series this year, and I'm sure we'll still root for the Rangers. But, deep in our hearts, a sad violin will play for our dearly loved team who was so close, but lost in the bottom of the ninth by a stupid strike that wasn't even swung at. SO LAME, HOWARD! But, I love you anyway.

Enjoy a pic of Singer's first trip to the clubhouse. He's a natural born Phan, for sure.

Next year, sweet Phils. Next year,
Jess

Poser

Singer is a little POSER!!! Ask John and Patrick. Every time we whip out the camera, he arches his back and smiles. I swear.

Proof:

See what I mean?!?!?!

Say cheese!
--Jess

Pants-tastic

Thanks, mom, for Singer's magic pants!! They are the coziest, comfiest pants ever. Even though they don't look like anything special, they sure do keep his little diapered behind warm.

Bring it on, Philly winter!
--Jess

PS: John finally added another recipe to Dr. John's Recipe Corner. Check it out...it's a goodie.

TSA slapped my wrist...reprimanded for nursing

I'm so ashamed. TSA felt the need to embarrass me for breastfeeding in public. I'll never do it again.

NOT!!!!!

Below is a letter I wrote to Austin International Airport. This stigma against breastfeeding must stop. There is nothing more natural, and I plan to nurse whenever and wherever Singer needs to eat. I want to raise awareness about this incident. Please assist me in spreading the word, and feel free to contact me for details. It won't get easier to breastfeed unless we educate.

On the morning of October 12, 2010, my husband and I were traveling home to Philadelphia from Austin, Texas with our five-month-old son. At Austin-Bergstrom International Airport the line to the security checkpoint was completely backed up, and passengers were waiting over an hour to walk through the metal detectors.

I could tell our son was hungry and wanted to nurse, but we were stuck in line for at least another twenty minutes. I asked a nearby TSA officer if I could bypass the line to get through so that I could nurse, but he said no. So, my only other option was to nurse while standing in line. I was wearing a cardigan and nursing tank, and my son's body was positioned so that the majority of my breast was covered. I would wager that no one around us had any clue that I was nursing.

When we reached the security checkpoint where a female TSA officer was checking IDs and boarding passes, my son was almost finished nursing. The officer asked me to quit nursing until I reached the other side of security where I could find a restroom to nurse in because "the other passengers aren't used to seeing something so inappropriate". I was shocked by her demanding tone of voice, but I replied calmly, "there is nothing inappropriate about feeding my baby". She then threatened me by saying that if I did not stop nursing she would call someone to assist me. I have no idea what she meant by this ultimatum, but fearing that we would miss our flight, I unlatched my son from my breast and walked through security without any further conflict.

My husband and I were furious at being called "inappropriate" by an authority figure whose job was to monitor the airport's security. How my breastfeeding infant was a cause for TSA involvement, I will never understand.

In Philadelphia, families traveling with infants are ushered through a separate security line. I have never had any issues with TSA in Philadelphia International Airport.

By sending this email, I simply wish to raise a flag.

Heated,
Jess

Singer in the city & my 28th birthday

We went hunting for a secret flea market in Queen Village (my favorite Philly neighborhood!!), and when we finally found it, Singer pooped and we had to go back to the car because I forgot the diaper bag.

Oh well, we got some cute pics on the way.

This five-month-old is really loving his city. After all, he's a natural born Philadelphian.
He had his first cold this week, which was no fun. But, Singer's been a trooper, and hopefully he'll get better soon.

Also, we were supposed to have friends over for dinner, but baby boy's cold made us change our plans. John brought home Birthday Pad Thai instead. It was delish!!



Gotta a feelin' 28 is gonna be a good year,
Jess

Yard Sale blues...

Whoa whoa! I've got the yard sale blues! Yeah, I said I got the yard sale bluuuuueeess!!

So, nothing is worse than dragging a ton of stuff out to the park across the street, setting up tables, making cute cardboard YARD SALE signs, and smiling at total strangers, then counting your day's earnings to total $30. What a bummer! I'm no closer to my stroller.

We'll probably spend the money on subway tokens and a pizza splurge from City Pizza. But, on the upside, City Pizza has the most incredible Hawaiian pie I've ever tasted! Looking forward to that :)

It's actually funny how "yard sale" means something completely different in Philly than it does in Texas. In Texas, "yard sale" means someone is moving or getting rid of a lot of really great stuff, and you better get there early or the goodness will be gone! In Philly, "yard sale" means don't look those crazy people selling stuff on the curb in the eye--they might be on drugs.

Lesson learned,
Jess

I'm obsessed...

with THIS stroller!


One of the mom's in my playgroup has it, and I'm coveting. The canopy is so huge and shades her whole bambino, it's a jogger--good traction, good movement, good shocks for a crazy urban world that Singer and I daily brave, and the whole stroller weighs less than 17 pounds!! It folds up super easy, and I think it would be perfect for the subway.

My plan: have a yard sale, sell a ton of stuff that is cluttering up my life, and then buy the City Mini!

We'll see...

Feeling a little materialistic,
Jess

A little nostalgic...

We went to Assateague Island this past weekend with our friends Chris and Shelby. We were camping in Ocean City, and I nearly peed my pants when I realized that THE Assateague Island from the Misty books (that Grama Frieda used to read to me) was right next door.

We hopped across the bridge, and I was holding on to a glimmer of hope that we would see the wild horses. A lady in the bathhouse at the camp ground told me that I probably wouldn't see any--apparently people go years and years without seeing any horses. Plus, it was raining so our chances were even slimmer.

photo by Shelby Stanhope

WE SAW HORSES!!!!!!!

It was so amazing. They were completely peaceful and content with their surroundings. I wanted to cry.

Remembering the way those horses used to make me feel,
Jess

Story time

Now I have to post a video of happy Singer, so that you don't just think he's a grumpy baby. This video is for my Mimi. Even though you're all the way in Texas, Mimi, I still think about you all the time :) Thanks for reading.


With love,
Jess

Baby Torture Chamber

So Singer kind of hates his Underwater Adventure play gym. Actually, it's a love/hate relationship. He's very polar about it. On minute he's cooing and gurgling at his Octopus, and the next minute he hates it all. I captured his hatred in a video that also highlights his new word: Gee.

Gee can mean so many things. It can be a greeting, a salutation if you will. It can also stand in for a story he wants to tell or a joke that he thinks is hilarious. But, in this video Gee means GET ME OUTTA HERE!




Laughing under my breath,
Jess

Aunt Anna

John, Singer and I went to visit my Aunt Anna and Uncle Kent and their family in Illinois this past month. They live in a really adorable little farming community, and John and I fell in love with their easy breezy lifestyle. It was a nice change of scenery from the whizzing whirling summer in the city.

Aunt Anna is my mother's youngest sister, and in my opinion, she is the sister most like my late Grama Frieda. Even their hands are the same. Anna's spirit is so much like my Grama in the way she offers such loving advice, and the way she laughs and listens, and even the way she cooks (mmmm Paella!).

In honor of my Aunt Anna's hospitality, I'd like to post a short story that I wrote for her about a year ago:

Mis casas son sus casas (My houses are her houses)

The first things I unpacked when we moved from our tiny Texas town to Philadelphia were my grandmother’s Spanish houses. I have three of these treasures, all made of clay and hand-painted to resemble the houses in the Canary Islands. These houses hang on the wall, but not just any wall. They hang on the kitchen walls of all the women in my family. My mother hangs them, her sisters hang them, I hang them, and my sister hangs them. My grandmother started this tradition decades ago, and before she died last year, she passed her houses from her wall to mine. The houses represent so much to me; the strength of the women in my family, the comfort of being home, and the beauty and simplicity of tradition. Most importantly, however, these houses represent my grandmother. And I will never forget the first time I realized that I was no longer a child. When my grandmother passed her houses to me to hang on my kitchen wall in my home that I will make for my husband and my future children, I realized I am a grown-up.

Most of my memories with my grandmother are set in her kitchen. It’s as if my grandmother’s kitchen was the backdrop of every scene I ever had with her. I naturally gravitated to the kitchen when I was at my grandparents’ house, I’d pull up a stool at the breakfast counter, and my grandmother and I would talk. Sometimes, she would laugh so hard that she’d cry, which always made me laugh until I cried. Then, my grandfather would peek his head in to see what all the commotion was about, which made us laugh harder.

The earliest memory I have in my grandmother’s kitchen was when I was about six or seven years old. My mom, my little sister, and I traveled across an ocean to get to my grandparents who were living in Madrid. We climbed several flights of stairs to their apartment, and when my grandmother opened the door to greet us, the warm scent of pecan pie flooded out into the hall. Now, I know that pecan pie is not a traditional Spanish dessert. But, my grandparents were from the U.S. and had lived in Spain for thirty years while my grandfather was working for the Foreign Mission Board as a pastor in a Spanish church. Their apartment was so tiny, and their noisy African Gray parrot named Mr. Chips filled every nook and cranny with song. But, my grandmother had created a small “room” out of a folding scrim and silk scarves for my sister and I to sleep in. I remember thinking it was a magical princess palette --probably because that’s what my grandmother called it. In the morning, we dangled our little legs from the breakfast counter stools, and my grandmother served up our first experience with “egg-in-a-cup”. Really, they were simple soft-boiled eggs. We, however, had never seen an egg in a little cup that you eat with little spoons! And we really felt like royalty.

My grandparents retired and moved back to the states when I was about ten. Christmas at their house was always magical. Having lived in Europe for a long time, the two of them had such a different way of celebrating, and I remember feeling lucky that my grandparents were so cool. We’d gather around the piano while my grandmother played and sang Spanish Christmas carols. She would pretend that she didn’t know any songs in English, just so we would “teach” her our favorites. My grandmother and her daughters (my mom and my two aunts) would spend all Christmas Eve making a huge Spanish paella dinner, but they still had time to bake the all-American apple pie, pumpkin pie, and my grandmother’s famous pecan pie. I would watch them work from my stool, and I’d think about what it must have been like when my grandmother’s daughters were little girls helping in her Spanish kitchen. They probably made American pies every Christmas.

I only saw my grandmother really cry from sadness once; it was in her kitchen. I was in college, and I had stopped by for some dinner and pie, and free use of their washing machine. My parents had just announced that they were getting a divorce, and my mother was having a hard time dealing with the loss of her husband of twenty-three years. My grandmother asked me how my mom was doing, and even though I know she had talked to my mom probably three times a day since my father left, she wanted to know how I thought she was doing. I told her that my mother’s heart was broken, and my grandmother began to cry. She wept softly for a moment before drying her eyes, looking at me, and saying, “I love you girls so much. When your hearts are breaking, my heart is breaking. All our hearts are breaking.” Everything clicked for me in that moment, and I realized how unshakable the bond was between the women in my family. We were all intertwined, raised by the same woman, and deeply connected. When one of us hurt, we all hurt; just the way it should be between sisters, mothers, aunts, nieces, and grandmothers.

Last year, my grandmother died. She had lived a year without my grandfather who had passed the year before, but her heart was broken, and being disconnected from him was too much. She came to my wedding in a wheel chair, watched me walk down the aisle, and I’m blessed by the photographs of her smiling as John and I said our vows. When I went to see her a few weeks later, she was in an assisted living facility, and her kitchenette was a tiny tiled square with a sink, mini-fridge, and a cupboard. But, hanging by her sink were the Spanish houses, there to greet her every morning and remind her of home, happiness, and her women. Her shaking, feeble hand weakly removed the houses from her wall and passed them to me. She said, “These are for your kitchen, now.” Right then and there, I knew that I was no longer a child dangling my feet from the breakfast stool. I was a grown woman, raised tall and strong by other women.

Maybe some day I will have a daughter of my own, and I will tell her what the Spanish houses mean to me. I will tell her that no matter where your house is, you will always be home because your family knows you and loves you. And I will raise her the way the women in my family raised me: connected.

This one is for you, Aunt Anna.
I love you,
--Jess

Baby journal and a word or two about nursing.

My high school girlfriends were here in Philly this week, and they asked me if I was going to make Singer a baby book. I've already started journaling about only him in this simple leather-bound notebook, so I decided to include photos and scraps in the book and make a "baby journal". It's a little more personal than a baby scrapbook because I'm including my thoughts about mommyhood. John and I were talking last night, and we think that maybe we'll give it to Singer when he is older...maybe when he is about to be a Daddy?

Also, my girlfriends asked me about nursing. I got to thinking about me and Singer's breastfeeding journey, and I totally understand why so many women give up on nursing after only a few weeks. It's sooooooooo hard, and it definitely does not come naturally as one would expect. You and your baby have to figure out what to do, and it literally took Singer and I TWO MONTHS to get nursing down solid. What I told my friends, and what I'm telling the blog world is this: you have to really want to nurse, fight through the frustrations, and in the end--it's so worth it. Nursing is absolutely amazing, and I wouldn't trade the frustration for anything in the world. But, you DO have to work at it.

With warmth (Philly 103 degree-style),
Jess

Post for Luke

When I think of God, or when I think of my "idea" of God, I have this beautiful picture in my mind of billions of people lifting up their faces to the sky. The best way I can explain what God means to me is this: when human spirit comes together and puts energy out into the universe as a collective, peaceful body...that is God.

I've always believed that if you really need God to hear you, ask others to pray with you. I've personally experienced the power of prayer when more than one voice reaches out. I wanted to share a special example of recent prayer power.

My friend, Jane emailed me on Thursday and said that she really needed my prayers. Her brother Luke, while living in China, was diagnosed with a rare malformation in the capillaries in his brain when he was brought to the hospital after having a seizure. It turns out that he had been hemorrhaging, and he was rushed into emergency brain surgery.

Jane was devastated, as well as her family, because her brother was so far away and in such a critical state. Luke survived surgery, and he was awake, but the doctors (who spoke only Chinese) were saying that Luke wouldn't be able to come home for months because flying was too dangerous. Jane's parents flew over to China, but they had little idea of what to expect.

Thankfully, Luke has been getting stronger and stronger every day, and it looks like he will be able to come home much sooner than everyone anticipated. Today, Jane told me about several "miracles" that happened because of prayer chains all over the world. There was a pastor who did not know Jane's family, but he heard about Luke through a prayer chain. He spoke Chinese, and he was able to contact Jane's family and help them get in touch with the hospital. Isn't that amazing?! A stranger was praying for Luke.

People all over the world have been putting their energy out into the universe in the name of Luke. God has responded with swift healing and nurturing, and Luke will rejoin his family in the US next week.

There have been several times in my life when I needed a prayer. Instead of baring the load alone, I turned to friends and family for their energy and strength. Their prayers combined with mine yielded peace, safety, health, and happiness. For this, I am truly thankful every day.

Keep Luke and Jane's family in your thoughts and prayers, please.

Strength in numbers,
Jess

While he sleeps...

I'm a Libra, and balance is an important part of my daily life. Trying to balance anything with motherhood is hard. On one hand, you want to give your child 100% of your energy. But, on the other hand, you want to give energy to your self and the things you love.

So...I'm really digging nap time :)
Ahh, my dusty uke still makes my heart skip a beat when I strum.

Our sweet-smelling basil forest is taking over the front window. I had to feature a pic! We're so proud. I've been making a lot of pesto lately. It's pretty much the most delicious thing I cook.

Also, I'm taking a weekly ballet class while John watches Singer. It's hard to tear myself away from my baby boy, but this is very necessary to my sanity! As John says, class makes me a happy person. Happy mommy = happy baby.

Figuring it out,
Jess

We're readers...

With an infant, no matter how hard you try, you don't get out much. It's cool. Singer and I have discovered the wide world of reading. I've always enjoyed books, but while I was preggers, I took a break from reading fiction/fun books and read only pregnancy books. Now, I've passed the pregnancy books on to one of my girlfriends who just found out she's expecting.

Singer and I venture to the library at least once a week. And we are really turning into a couple of book worms. I know what you're thinking. "Your baby is two and a half months old. He doesn't read!" But I'm telling you, Singer really does enjoy book time.

His favorites:
Good Night Moon
Each Peach Pear Plum
Harold and the Purple Crayon
The Wheels on the Bus
The Big Hungry Bear

My favorites:
Time Traveler's Wife
Water for Elephants (about to finish)
and I'm starting my Cormac McCarthy craze. My friend Tobi told me to read them all, so we're off to the library to start.

Also, I'd like to mention that it's been 103 degrees in Philly this week. Reading it is, then!

Books, books, books,
Jess

Wearing Singer

I've discovered the joys of baby-wearing, and so has my baby. Singer is not much for being swaddled, but he doesn't mind the sling, BECO, or the Moby wrap. In fact, he loves them. The closeness is priceless, plus I'm hands-free!! I guess you can say Singer has participated in countless loads of laundry, dinner preparations, and his favorite--dancing to tunes in the living room :) Also, John wears Singer to the park in the mornings so I can get a shower. Ahhhhh!

Loving this baby-wearing action!
--Jess

Yoga

I'm all healed up from delivery and ready to get fit. What better way than through yoga!?!? I've always been a dancer, and I started yoga in 2001. Since then, I've incorporated yoga into my teaching and workout routines, and I look forward to the toning and conditioning that the discipline brings with it.

Yoga was an important meditation tool for me during pregnancy. Here I am at about twenty-three weeks.


Namaste,
Jess

Bit of fun

We have a lot of fun with the new guy. Never a dull moment at Casa de Noel.
Laughing,
Jess

The "yard"

Everyone in South Philly calls the outdoor space in the back alley a yard. This is funny if you're from Texas; the yards in the south are often measured in acres. Our Philadelphia "yard" is about four feet by six feet, and it backs up to the rest of the block's yards. Basically, we're all connected by an alley that is just wide enough for John to ride his bike down.

I wanted to show you what I'm talking about, and I wanted you to see some Texas elements that we include in our Philly yard to make it a little homier.


Here's our little diaper line:


Wind chime in the corner: annoying the neighbs, I'm sure.

Our Roma: I have to give credit to my hubby. He's been doing all the gardening this year.



We brought Paco from Texas. He watches over our "yard" :)



This year's Basil is just starting: mmmmmmm!
And, on an unrelated note, Singer wanted to show off his new curves:
What a chunk!

Happy SUMMER,
Jess