How a Little Media Literacy Can Help Prevent Another Steubenville

Almost two months ago, I was invited to the San Antonio Living show to talk about the commercials that aired during the Super Bowl, but more specifically about body image and how some of those commercials might adversely affect girls' and women's self-image. I had a lot of fun doing the show, despite my nerves (it was my first time appearing on any morning show, speaking as an expert on this topic) and I'm really proud of myself for having stepped out of my comfort zone. And in that regard it was a success.

But I was a little bummed that I didn't get to talk about this one commercial that I really, really wanted to talk about.

And then Steubenville happened. And I just couldn't stop thinking - obsessively almost - about the one commercial that I really, really wanted to talk about, but didn't get to talk about. Because the lessons learned from talking about this particular commercial can be monumental.

So I'm gonna do it here. {grin}

Do y'all remember the Audi commercial? The prom one? Where the teen dude, faced with the dismal prospect of attending his senior prom alone [the horror!], is handed the keys to a shiny black Audi S6 by his sympathetic dad. His night is suddenly transformed. His confidence grows with every mile as he cruises to the dance and pulls into the principal's parking spot. Now completely emboldened, he beelines to the pretty blond prom queen, whisks her off her feet and plants on her an impassioned kiss. The final shot is of him driving back home in his dad's Audi with a big grin and a black eye, courtesy of the prom king.  Just in case you don't remember (and my summary just isn't working for you), here it is:

And at the end, we're cheering for him, am I right?
Hooray for you dude! Hooray for your bravery! You got the girl!!!

It's a really cute commercial, right?

I thought Audi did a fantastic job - a great story with a believable character that we all totally invested in and ultimately cheered for - all in 30 seconds!

And I still do really appreciate this commercial. But then I took a second glance, and something didn't sit quite right.

The rub was in the underlying message that our children internalize, especially if we are not actively engaging ourselves in teaching our children about media literacy, teaching them how to healthfully internalize media images that they see every day.

Now, both you and I, as adults, know that this commercial is simply a construct of an ideal - a cute story that successfully resonates with all of our emotions regarding love and romance and bravery, all wrapped up into this cute little package to try and sell a car.

BUT, the human brain does not fully mature until the early to mid twenties. So when our littles, tweens, teens and even young adults see this type of commercial, this is what they see and understand:

• boy is sad he's going to prom alone
  {media message: you have to have a date for prom or you won't have fun}
• boy gets to drive dad's shiny black Audi which emboldens him to go to prom happy
  {media message: you have to have a nice shiny car to have confidence/be happy}
• boy parks in principal's parking space
  {media message: you can break rules and do anything you want when you have a nice shiny car}
  
• boy walks up to prom queen and plants a big kiss on her
  {media message: you are allowed to walk up to any girl and just kiss her just because you want to, without her consent, under the guise of bravery - but especially if you have a nice shiny car. More detrimental, girls can internalize that it's okay for a boy to grab her and kiss her in the name of courage and bravery.}
  

A pretty dangerous message if we don't talk to our kids about what they're seeing... or what they don't even realize they're seeing, right?

We can make a really big mistake when we assume that our kids can critically think things out for themselves. We need to teach our kids how to "read" media just as we teach them how to read literature.

Unfortunately, media literacy is just not a big part of our culture. But we really need to make it a part of our culture. A part of our daily conversations. Because our children are learning more from the internet, movies, television, video games and other media than any other educational form.  What is most concerning is that these impressionable young minds are absorbing more than 10 hours of media every day!  Furthermore, in this day and age, parental controls for what these kids are exposed to are limited. And increasingly more-so, the media content that portrays girls/women is becoming more violent, sexual and demeaning.

If we don't start engaging in conversations around media literacy with our children, teaching them how to think critically about media messages, then we run the risk of our children internalizing the wrong message... which, ultimately, will only lead to more cases like Steubenville or like the many (courageous) personal accounts of similar stories OR close calls that many bloggers shared with their readers after Steubenville in order to bring awareness to a problem that sadly, has probably occurred many more times than we know or would like to acknowledge.

How to Engage With Your Kids About What They See

1. Take a second look. Often we miss things the first time we hear or look at media. Taking a second look allows us to find things in the media that may have escaped our attention the first time. It teaches us how to discover the
   second and third levels of meaning in media.
   
   Examples using the above commercial: "Wow! That was a really great commercial! What did you think about that? ...But you know, I don't really like the way it suggests that you have to have a nice shiny car to be brave... did you catch that? ...It's a really cute story, but if any guy were to come up and plant a kiss on me without my permission, I'd have a serious problem with that. What do you think?"
   
   
2. Teach them that all media has a purpose and a target audience. Purposes can be to persuade, to entertain, to inform, to explain, to make a profit, etc. Ask open-ended questions that allow your children to determine the purpose of the media and who the target audience might be.
   
   
3. Talk about point of view. All media is a carefully wrapped package designed to construct a specific version of reality told from a singular point of view. Ask open-ended questions about the varying points of view.
   
   Example using the above commercial: "So how do you think the prom queen felt? How would you feel if you were her or that were your sister? What's her perspective? What kinds of stereotypes did you notice?"
   
   
4. Educate them that media is about money. It is all about the bottom line. Good media students don’t forget that media is there to try to sell something: ideas, products, or even a way of life. It’s entertainment, yes. But almost always, it’s also selling a product.
   
   
5. Educate them that ultimately, media promotes an agenda. Often the attitude of media is a reflection of the attitude of the person or people who made it. When you experience any media, you can tell what its producers stand for, what they believe in, and what view of the world they are trying to present/sell to you.
   

Once you start talking and teaching them to think critically about the images that they consume, it will become second nature to them and they'll become smart, educated consumers rather than victims of hidden media messages that their young brains cannot fully comprehend.

Do you practice media literacy with your kids? What has worked for you? Do you have any stories that you'd like to share? I'd love to hear them!

created on Wordle applet

Celebrate Valentine's Day By Teaching Your Daughter A 'Love Yourself' Ritual

Valentine's Day is pretty much a non-event at our house. Until this year. Juniper is finally old enough to notice holidays and so we've been kind of roped into this whole culturally dictated day of celebrating love. Which is no big deal, really. But it kind of is.

If you think about it, our expectations of love - romantic love - are kind of internalized at a really young age. From watching mommy and daddy making out in the kitchen, to internalizing messages from stories - in any medium (books, films, cartoons, etc.), to even this seemingly benign cultural holiday that defines how we celebrate love.

But in our culture, instead of celebrating (just) LOVE (in general), Valentine's Day tends to focus on celebrating romantic love. And in this way, it can be very destructive. It creates a huge divide - those who have romantic love vs. those who don't. And the feelings that are often internalized, if you don't have (reciprocated) romantic love - on this very specific date - that is, are that there's something wrong with you, and/or jealousy... etc. which can be really destructive.

And this behavior DOES start really early. Of course I'm totally basing this on my personal experience, but who here has never gone through all of their factory-made valentines that mom picked up at some store to give to our friends, only to pick out the best ones... the ones with the most subtext to give to the cute boy (or girl) whom we secretly had a crush on? And in equal fashion, at the end of the day, ran home from school to ogle over the valentines that we received to discover whether or not that cute boy/girl gave us a valentine with subtext of equal or greater value?

And as we grow older, it only gets worse.

So this year, as Juniper is learning the culturally normal way to celebrate Valentine's Day, I'm also teaching her that it's not about receiving a valentine or giving a valentine, which can unintentionally teach us to value ourselves based on whether or not some body "loves" us, but that it's a day to celebrate loving ourselves. Because I want her to grow up gifting herself a "love yourself" ritual - even if it's just one day a year. I want her to be able to love herself as she loves others, above all others.

Today we spent ten minutes looking into the mirror with each other. We took turns telling each other what we loved about each other. We started with the external appearances - like Juniper's eyes, her smile, and her strong arms (she was making muscles in the mirror) - and ended with the internal goodness - her caring nature, her curiosity, the way she doesn't give up but finds a way to figure things out. But I also made her tell me things that she loved about herself, "that I like to make things for my friends."

As she gets older, I'd like to incorporate more into our newly established 'love yourself' ritual. And as Wyatt gets older, of course we'll include him, because it is equally important, if not more, to teach our boys how to love themselves, too. 

With permission from Michael Mutt

What's In A Name?

Today, 36 years ago, I popped out of my mother's womb and while I was still a wet and slimy little 9 pounds of flesh, my parental units took one look at me, held me to the high heavens and exclaimed, "She shall be named Kim!" (whether or not this really did happen is unbeknownst to me).

According to sheknows.com, (I chose this site to source the meaning simply based on the domain name alone and not because it was at the top of the Google search, because I love everything about it - the feminine pronoun and its modifier) the Anglo-Saxon meaning of Kim is, bold family; bold kin (true dat). The American meaning is, chief of war; leader (preach it, my sistah). And both the English and the Welsh (which makes it twice as true) meaning of Kim is, noble or brave (amen!).

There are a couple other reasons why I like my name.

• It's just Kim. Not short for Kimberly or Kimber or any thing else. Just Kim. Plain and simple.
  
• It's a common Korean surname, so, that my mother chose it as my first name is kinda bucking the system. And I'm a rebel like that. 
  

What I hate about my name is that popular culture has emboldened some people I know to mimic the Southpark "Timmeh" into "Kimmeh" just for me. {smile} Kimmeh. KimmehKimmehKimmehhhhh! (okay, that's annoying). Also, Kimmy Gibbler didn't help much. At all. And then there's this one scene in My Best Friend's Wedding where Julia Roberts is running after Cameron Diaz (Kimmie) who has just witnessed Julia's character kissing the dude she (Kimmie) is about to marry. . . and there's this old haggardly woman in the restroom with a deep, raspy, smoker's man-voice who keeps saying, "Kimmie" over and over and over and over again. When people do that one for me, it just kills me! Kills. Me.

I also hate that it's trio-ed with my middle name and my last name.

Kim Marie Murray

The combination of the three just bugs the crap nuggets out of me. When I say it, all the M's just get all bunched up like a pair of too big panties. Even if I choose to exclude my middle name, it makes no difference. Kim Murray is just as much of a train wreck.

I have to make a concerted effort to pronounce my name for people. My lips get all puckery and my eyes get all big and blinky and I very deliberately say,

Kim.  [beat]  mah-REE.  [beat] MUHR-rie. [period]

And then the people look at me like I've got my panties all in a wad or something.

Let this be a lesson to you all. Never. Ever. give your child a first name that ends with the same letter that your last name begins. Take Brooks Smith for example. Brooks Smith is never going to be taken seriously because he sounds like he's stuck in an S bog of hell.

Names are the very first labels we are given, folks. They are internalized and their meanings and associations mold us into the beings that we be. You learned it here, y'all. Be kind to your littles. Else they runoff and create a blog using the nickname given to them by their husband, plus the first three letters of their new last name. 

In Gratitude of Motherhood and a Husband of Badassery

There was a time in my life, not too long ago, that the last thing I'd ever be grateful for is motherhood. But there's something about the pain of squeezing an eight pound muffin out of my vagina hole that gifted me with perspective. Transformative perspective. And a large set of cojones.

If you ask my parents, they'd probably tell you that I've always had a certain . . . je ne sais quoi . . . boldness. (And I'd have to agree.) But the truth of the matter is, I didn't grow a set of balls - the grown-up woman kind of balls - until I huffed and I puffed and I popped a turkey out of my oven. So to speak.

In the words of Caitlin Moran, "Childbirth is far superior to Zoloft or therapy." And I'd have to agree. The mind-blowing, rise-and-shine-come-to-Jesus-hallelujah! moment of transformative perspective presented itself to me almost immediately. The thing that happened was somewhat of a spiritual awakening. I say that because very literally, I became AWAKE!

I suddenly realized that all those thirty one years that I'd already lived? They were a waste! (Not totally, but let me expound.) What had I done? Absolutely nothing! I had absolutely nothing in my box of cool to share with my new daughter to teach her that she could do anything she put her heart and mind to.

My husband, on the other hand, had been a collegiate skiier, a world traveler, a pilot, and is now a doctor . . . he'd completed multiple marathons, including one where he ran up the monstrous Pike's Peak (and then back down) . . . there was an endless supply of awesome in his box of cool.

Talk about a wake-up call!

It was at that moment that I vowed to teach my daughter to not just sit on the couch of life as I'd done, but that she could do anything she wanted - regardless of societal and cultural rules or expectations. And the best way to teach her was to show her. By deciding to own my life, my choices and by walking the talk.

Since that moment I've been on somewhat of a quest to redefine motherhood. I didn't know it at the time. It's all been an oraganic, evolutionary process. I really believe that a woman does not have to lose her unique individual identity to motherhood. And I want my daughter to know that and to be able to live it without hesitation. Or ridicule.

Two weeks out of every year, I hand my kids over to a trusted family member and I treat myself to a retreat of sorts. I usually head off to the Sundnace Film Festival where I get to fill my creative cup, mingling and engaging with a bunch of like-minded creatives and thought leaders, OR I head to the beach house where I let myself just BE.

And I do this without guilt. I am not bothered that other people consider me selfish for doing this.

Doing this - along with setting aside time for my writing and creativity, daily - has allowed me to follow my dreams, to accomplish some pretty awesome goals. And my box of cool is now abundant.

The message that I hope my daughter will learn from seeing me do this is that mothers should not put their lives on hold for the sake of their children or their husband's career or for any other reason for that matter. Because they just shouldn't. Daddies don't. And mommies shouldn't either. Parents are in it together. A family is a circle of trust, love and support for every member. Equally.

So, thank you motherhood. For my jolt of perspective. For my set of titanium balls. For my raison d'etre.

And for the ability to pee my pants every time I sneeze.

{And thank you, o husband of badassery. Without your truly unconditional love and support of me and who I've evolved into and will continue to evolve into - without your willingness to be in it with me, equally - without your partnership - I would not be able to be the mother I want to be. And I wouldn't have the freedom to chase my dreams.}

our 2013 Smolder. all rights reserved.

Thirteen Weeks.

It's been thirteen weeks since Wyatt was born and I figure it's about time that I introduce him to you. Internets, meet the W:

Isn't he just the best? I know, I know. I'm the boy's mom, for goodness sake. But still. He is rawther perfect, right? Nothing can take away the feeling of new parentdom. Except maybe one thing.

So there we were, relishing (as new parents are wont to do ) in this beautiful moment - the birth of our second child - when we were blindsided by a two-ton brick that fell from out of nowhere.

They found a murmur.

No big deal, I think to myself. My sister had a murmur, a hole in her heart that closed on its own, and she is perfectly normal.

So the next day the nurse took him down to the cardiology clinic for an ultrasound and he came back with a diagnosis. He has a Ventricular Septal Defect (VSD) - a hole in the ventricular septum (the wall dividing the left and right ventricles) of his heart - a large one.

No. Wait.

The cardiologist's actual adjective was, EPIC.

He has an EPIC-sized VSD.

A VSD of EPIC proportions.

{cue the two-ton brick}

And then we shit our pants and fainted.

We went home with instructions to look out for symptoms of heart failure. HEART FAILURE. {What the CUSS?!!!} Those are some scary words. Especially because I had no idea what this meant. I always thought HEART FAILURE meant IMMINENT DOOM. So, I went home thinking that at any moment my precious little newborn baby boy, his little heart overwhelmed with more work than it should, would just... putter out and...

NO! (I still refuse to say the word. But that never stopped me from thinking it. Or from being in fear of it.)

My husband, Tim (the badass head and neck surgeon; the one who usually plays the "I am MAN, hear me roar!" and the "I will protect my house and home." cards to perfection) was visibly upset. And by visibly upset, I mean he cried {sorry, babe, I had to tell them}. Of course this sent another two-ton brick crashing down on me. To see my cowboy, my mountain man... my partner so shaken by this diagnosis. It scared me to beyond the beyond.

The first month of Wyatt's life was very frightening for me. There was the usual sleepless nights of feeding every hour; the painful cracked nipples that felt like I was being stabbed in the chest thirty one times every time he latched on; the emotional crying at the wee hours of the morning while every one else was snug and sleeping in their beds. And of course there was the fear that I would go all postpartum, like I had after Juniper was born.

But then there was the fear of IMMINENT DOOM - the fear of death - added to the mix.

And then, of course, there's the gut-wrenching feeling of guilt. Was there something I did to make this happen? Something I didn't do? I didn't eat healthy enough! I didn't remember to take my vitamins every day! It was the wine I consumed before I even found out I was pregnant! I shouldn't have gone to Korea!

Of course I shared this vulnerability with my very closest of friends. And the (very important) life lesson I learned in sharing this story and my guilt is that: we should only share our stories with those who are worthy of our stories and vulnerabilities. Interestingly, true friends will reveal themselves in times of heartache. And the ones you thought were true kind of reveal themselves too. Those are the ones that just look at you with pity and a frown, as if saying, "Yeah. You probably should/shouldn't have done that."

The hardest part about dealing with something like this is that it just doesn't make sense. Because he's doing so incredibly well - he's eating, growing, doing things that babies should be doing, and showing no symptoms - it's hard for me to remember that he has an EPIC-sized hole in his heart. It's always kind of a jolt - a sucker punch to the ribs - every time we go in to the cardiologist for the echocardiogram.

Those days are hard. They serve up a plate of reality and force me to eat it.

On these days I always feel like a failure. I'm constantly ridden with guilt because there are times that I get frustrated that he's crying - even after I've done everything in the world I can think of doing for him. That I can't sit and enjoy a full cup of coffee without having to get up and feed him yet again because his heart condition means that he tires out at every feeding, which means that he feeds for five minutes, falls asleep and wakes up twenty minutes later hungry for more. On these days I just hate myself for all of these frustrating moments and ones just like them.

Luckily I have a handful of beauty-FULL friends that remind me that I am only human. They remind of all the things I need to be reminded of. This always gets me back to the place I need to be to be a great mother to these precious monkeys . . .

This week our Wyatt is three months old. In another short three months he'll be facing open heart surgery. I'm not a huge talk-about-my-spirituality person. But today, I am thankful for all of my family and friends who are praying for our little man. Those prayers, meditations - those positive thoughts of energy and light, of healing angels - are helping my little warrior fight his fight. And for this I am so entirely grateful.

Dal Segno

As the great Zevon once crooned, "I'm back in the high life again." And when I say 'high life' I really mean the writing saddle (did you catch the pun?). I bought this particular writing saddle around ten years ago from a vintage junk store in Tampa, Florida while we were driving through one weekend. It's one of those old 50's -style office chairs that were quickly orphaned once the ergonomic chairs became popular. It's so well worn that its dookie brown upholstering not only molds to my thighs but also my ischial tuberosity. And it smells like ass. But it's my writing saddle. And it feels good to be back in.

A lot has happened since the last time I allowed myself the time to write/post. I had a major bloggy-mid-life-crisis-thingy. I'd been having such a hard time coming to the blog everyday because I'd lost my way. I'd never really set any intention for this blog. And I based a lot of my decisions based upon what I thought I wanted, because it's what every one else wanted and I was lucky enough to have the opportunity. But it was rubbing me all the wrong way - which made me reluctant to show up. So I didn't.

And as you all know (who am I kidding? you guys surely haven't stuck around... have you?) I was pregnant with numero two - a boy. Wyatt (our little warrior) was born in August and immediately diagnosed with an EPIC ventricular septal defect in his heart. That was how the cardiologist chose to describe it - EPIC. And then I peed my pants and fainted.

So the thing that happens when something like this rocks the YOUniverse is perspective. I've been gifted with a lot of it recently. At first I thought I was going to give up blogging. But writing has been such a huge part of my life for almost all of my life that it just felt wrong to just quit. So I've decided to start over without completely starting over.

Dal Segno (D.S.), in music, is an Italian phrase meaning "from the sign." When you see a D.S. marked in sheet music, it means to go back to the dal segno sign. And that's exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going to go back to the sign, the inspiration. And I'm gonna do it again. This time, I'm gonna take the coda. The notes there are a lot less superficial and glib.

Book Lust: Fall 2012

Here are some of my absolute favorite authors who've yet again made my short list for reading this fall:

1. Sweet Tooth Ian McEwan

2. Vagina Naomi Wolf

3. Flight Behavior Barbara Kingsolver

4. Daring Greatly Brené Brown

5. Back to Blood Tom Wolfe

fetch!: accessories inspired by surrealism

1  Yummi Murano Glass Evil Eye pendant necklace 2  Aamaya by Priyanka Fatima hand charm bracelet 3  Erin Wasson Evil Eye pendant 4  Erin Wasson Double Side Evil Eye necklace 5  Astley Clarke Biography Evil Eye ring 6  Deanna Hamro Atelier "Lulu" Pave Cuff bracelet 7  Vanessa Kandiyoti Hamsa necklace 8  Peeping Tom: Blinking Vintage Doll Eye ring 9  Vanessa Mooney Evil Eye necklace 10 Ileana Makri Evil Eye necklace 11 Ileana Makri Titan Evil Eye ring in Rose Gold 12 Nora Kogan Man Ray Lips cuff 13 Gold rimmed Evil Eye drop earrings 14 Etikka Vintage Evil Eye charm bracelet 15 Divya Diamond Turquoise Evil Eye ring

The Writing Class

I picked this book up for several reasons but mostly because I needed something fast, easy and entertaining. The front flap promised a murder-mystery, a genre I hadn't read in a long time (and that almost always is fast, easy and entertaining), in a setting that was right up my alley - a writing class. Perfect!

Jincy Willet's The Writing Class is a mystery set within the social parameters of a group of adults who meet weekly to learn writing. Their teacher is the reclusive Amy Gallup. She runs the class well, its twin pillars being practice and critique. Everyone reads and critiques everyone else's writing in an organized and rule-governed way. Her current class has 12 lost souls who blend together as well as can be expected of disparate lives with one weekly get-together in a cold, drafty public school room. But this time there's a difference: there's a murderer in the group.

I really enjoyed this book. I think I read it in two days. There's a lot of characters - 13 of them - but Jincy pulls it off. Each character is quirky and well developed. She writes humorously about the art and craft of writing as well as those who aspire to be writers (wannabes, very much like myself).

The Writing Class is a two-fer. It’s a fall-off-your-chair-funny, yet gently sad murder mystery and, through Amy's clear-eyed observations on the craft and rigors of writing, it also works as a manual for writing in any genre.

The GoodwillSA Project: August

Collar necklaces are all the rage right now. They're gracing the pages of almost all the September issues of fashion magazines. Even Anthropologie has them which means they've definitely hit the mainstream. They're the perfect statement necklace. Here are some of my faves - they've inspired this post.

And the good news is, I've found a way to create your very own collar necklace without the hefty price tag - Just in time for back-to-school! Collars are a great accessory to layer under your every day t-shirt or sweater to dress up your outfit. The great thing about these collars is that they're super easy to make and an affordable fashion item that can be easily made within minutes. Even your girly tweens will have fun with this one!

1) Start with a trip to your Goodwill and collect several men's woven shirts with collars. They're priced at $3.99 each. I like men's shirts because the collars are usually a bit more sturdy. You want the collars to be stiff so it can hold up all the accessories that you'll be putting on them. I looked for both colors and shapes that I liked.

2) You'll need to shop for some embellishments - studs, beads, diamonds from other necklaces or bought from the store. I bought rhinestones and beads at my local Hobby Lobby and JoAnn's. I also purchased spikes and studs from Tandy Leather Factory (because I couldn't wait for shipping), but I'd totally recommend getting them at Studs and Spikes. You'll also need fabric glue and a good pair of scissors.

3) Use a sharp pair of scissors and cut off the collars of each shirt.

4) For the first collar, I glued some fuschia rhinestone embellishments on to the collar using fabric glue. And for the second collar, I glued some beads on the collar using fabric glue. A pop of color around the collar is a great way to spice up a neutral and casual outfit.

5) Next, I embellished the black collar with some round brass studs that have a bendable backing on them. All you have to do is poke the studs through and bend the backing down so it's completely flat (see below). You can continue to poke the studs through to create a unique design on your collar. I chose to line them up in a straight horizontal line, parallel to the seam of the collar. This is probably my favorite collar, it's just one of those pieces that can make any outfit look strong and edgy for a cool city chic look.

6) For the denim, I decided to use some silver pyramid studs to give it more of an edge. These silver studs have the same bendable backings on them. They're super easy to use. Just poke the studs through the fabric and bend the backings flat. Design the collar however you want. I wanted to emphasize the tip of this collar so all I did was stud the end of the collar. This is a great collar to edge up a simple shirt.

7) My next collar is a dainty Peter Pan collar that has a rounded edge instead of a  pointed one. Peter Pan collars have a romantic vintage charm to them - a perfect accessory to make any outfit more girly and feminine. I decided to use beads from a bracelet that I had laying around, in a single row around the edge of the collar. Easy peasy.

Something as simple as a collar can take a typical and every day outfit and transform it into a well thought out and stylized look. Weather you choose a plain collar or an embellished beaded one, collars can really spice up a plain old shirt or dress. So I challenge you guys this season to sit down and design your own collars. It's really easy peasy. There's no limit on creativity. You can keep them simple or go crazy on them. The old wardrobe that you've had for years can completely be transformed with the addition of some amazing collars.

What do you guys think? Is this a project that you'd enjoy? Are the collars trendy enough for you to try out as a statement piece to an ordinary outfit?

39 weeks

Known also as the week I tripped, fell and twisted my ankle. All is well. And it makes for a fairly hilarious mental picture.You are welcome.

trends to try: pastel hair

Have y'all seen all of the summertime photo shoots of models donning pastel hair? The photos almost always include sunspots, and the pictures look so soft and ethereal that they make me want to have pastel hair too. Because that's how you get a life that looks all flowy and cotton-candy-dreamy, right?

The good news is that if you've been wanting to try this trend as much as I have, I've found a great, inexpensive, very temporary way to give it a try - hair chalking. It’s a great way to temporarily add color to your locks.

Above, you can see the chalk can create a very similar look to dye without the commitment. But… there is a catch, it can be messy (think chalk dust). There are several things you need to know about chalking your hair. Below are some tips + tricks along with some advice for before and after…

Before

1. Use only “soft chalk" pastels. I used THESE. They’re $3 per piece at Blick, which I think is a great deal when compared to salon treatments. I know what you're thinking... but no, regular chalk doesn’t work the same. It’s harder to transfer and getting it to stick to your hair can be virtually impossible. Soft chalk pastels can be found at any major art store. Just don’t get “soft chalk” pastels confused for oil pastels - that would be sticky and gross, and removing oil pastels from hair would be a nightmare. If you’re confused, ask a sales person.

2. If you are blonde, or have blonde highlights, do not wet your hair for chalking as it will stain your hair. If you're okay with the staining for several washes, then by all means, go for it! But if you want the color just for the day, do not add water at all. If your hair is darker than blonde and you don't have blonde highlights to work with, you'll need to wet your hair before chalking. It will help the colors show up on darker hair. Mist a little water on the strand with a spray bottle, then chalk it up! It won't stain darker hair the same way it will on lighter hair.

3. Always wear a robe or towel cape and lay something down on the floor to catch the chalk dust that falls off. If it gets everywhere, don't freak out. It's just chalk dust and cleans up very easily. Twist the hair as you chalk. The texture from twisting makes the chalk release more pigment. Always brush the excess powder out after chalking each section.

4. Experiment. Try doing 2 colors on one strand!

Be warned: It will get on your clothes during the day, so I wouldn't recommend wearing white. Doing updos with chalked hair is ideal because you won't get as much on your outfit.

After

• Before you shower, brush your hair with a soft, natural hair brush to get out as much of the pigment as you possibly can. Most of the pigment should come off with this brushing.
•  Shampoo your hair with a clarifying shampoo.
• A conditioning treatment is a MUST after you wash out your chalk. Replenish the moisture!
• Don't chalk your hair too often. Chalk is very drying.

The Jeju Mermaids

While in South Korea, Juniper and I had the opportunity to visit Jeju, the volcanic island province located just off the southern tip of the country. It is incredibly beautiful. And interestingly, in a country that is extremely patriarchal, where women are very much submissive to their husbands, one of the most distinct aspects of Jeju (probably due to the relative isolation of the island) is its matriarchal family structure. On this South Korean island, it's the women who rule the sea. Perhaps the most well-known example of this is the haenyeo, the mermaids of Jeju.

These "women of the sea" are the heads of families because they bring home the bacon. Er.... shellfish. They earn their living from free diving year-round, into the extremely cold waters of the East China Sea, without scuba gear, in order to forage for abalone, conch, urchin, octopus and a myriad of other shellfish from the ocean floor, sometimes as deep as 60 feet. They haul their goods back to the shore and sell them to tourists who are eager to devour the fresh catch right there on the rocks of the shoreline.

(at about :46 you can hear one or two of the haenyeo coaxing a potential customer, "genchana,  mashisoyo!" Translation: It's okay, it's delicious!)

And probably the most badass part of this culture is that most of the haenyeo are over 60 years old. Many are grandmothers. They could retire if they wanted, but they prefer the adventure and the sense of community it brings them. Now that is what I call sisterhood!

Five Must-See-Now Films from Sundance

Forward: Earlier in the year I had the privilege of working at the Sundance Film Festival as the Media Coordinator for the Filmmaker Lodge. And had the opportunity to see a lot of great films. And meet a lot of inspiring people. I tried to write a post about my experiences but was so entirely overwhelmed by the whole thing that I couldn't. So now that some time has lapsed and I've distanced my self from the awesomeness of the event and the films are actually hitting the theaters so that everyone can see them, I think I can finally muster up a word or two on a few of the good films that came out of Sundnace. And if you are a San Antonian, you must go see The Imposter. Seriously.

1. The Imposter

It's a documentary film, but you'd never know it. It screens more like a mesmerizing psychological thriller bulging with twists, turns, nasty insinuations and shocking revelations. And it is all the more astonishing because it actually happened. Here. In San Antonio! It's a fantastic film. Riveting. And very well done. The only disappointment is the realization that the scenes that are supposed to be San Antonio are actually Phoenix, Arizona, where part of the film was shot. Regardless, the film is more than just a retelling of a case of mistaken identity; it’s an emotional journey, and afterwards, anybody seeing it will have many thoughts, questions and debates about what is true, and what is made to be believed in the course of the story that unfolds in this film. I promise you your jaw will drop and you won't stop talking about this one for awhile.

San Antonians: This film opens at the Santikos Bijou Cinema on Aug. 17, 2012. Everyone else: check this list.

2. Beasts of the Southern Wild

I missed this when it premiered at Sundance. It had such a hugely positive reaction to it that I just had to see it, so I literally hopped in my car & trekked over to watch it just so I could include it in this post. Beasts of the Southern Wild portrays the bond between father and daughter in a world where only the strong survive. It exists entirely in its own universe: mythological, anthropological, folkloric, and apocalyptic. No wonder it won the Sundance Dramatic Grand Jury Prize.

San Antonians: This film is currently playing at the Santikos Bijou Cinema. Showtimes are noon, 2:15 PM, 5PM, and 715 PM. Everyone else: check here.

3. Safety Not Guaranteed

Clever dialogue and outlandish antics, peppered with misfit characters—each one charming yet flawed—are wrapped in a love story tingling with the tantalizing possibility of time travel. I loved this film.

San Antonians: This film is currently playing at the Santikos Bijou Cinema. Showtimes are 12:30 PM, 2:50 PM, 5:15 PM, and 7:45 PM. Everyone else: check this list.

4. Your Sister's Sister

A subtle, heartfelt romantic comedy. Articulate and funny. It's a film that is very much character driven - which I didn't mind at all. I just love Mark Duplass. And Emily Blunt. And Rosemarie DeWitt. I wonder what YOU will think about the ending.

San Antonians: This film opens at the Santikos Bijou Cinema on Aug. 3, 2012. Everyone else: check here.

5. Celeste & Jesse Forever

An indie film that explores a maxim we're all familiar with: "Can men and women be just friends?" It's Rashida Jone's debut into screenwriting and she does a bang-up job. It's not your ordinary romantic comedy. It's honest. Authentic. And challenges the norm. And no, I didn't immediately like this film just because I have a crush on both Andy Samberg and Rashida Jones. I liked it because it was good. Really good.

San Antonians: This film opens at the Santikos Bijou Cinema on Aug. 31, 2012. Everyone else: check here.

fetch!: quill necklace

I'm completely obsessed, y'all...

Mama's Closet: Sarah Vernetti

I met Sarah (@wandering_off) three years ago via Twitter. I'd just moved to San Antonio and was having a hard time connecting with other women with children that could carry on a good conversation without reverting to talking about the kids - their kids, my kid, that other lady's kid, how to raise a kid... And then along came Sarah. As most of you may know, meeting people on Twitter is risky. Or "like a box of chocolates - you never know what you're gonna get." But we seemed to share too many similarities in lifestyle (we're both mothers, both bloggers, both military spouses and both spouses to physicians in residency) and interests (travel, mainly) for it to go too badly, so we threw caution to the wind, made a great connection and have been friends ever since.

Sarah has recently relocated to Las Vegas where she's a travel blogger and freelance writer. Over the years, I've come to really appreciate the genuine person that she is and I enjoy reading her blog, Wandering Off, where she writes about her off-beat adventures in travel. Which is why I'm featuring her on my blog today.

Over the years, I've been asked on a few occasions about maintaining a blogroll on my blog. But truth be told, I hate blogrolls. Or curating one anyway. I know that inevitably I'll forget someone and then I'd feel really bad and hate myself. So I've always stayed away from them.

Yet, at the same time, I've always wanted to curate some sort of series that would feature some of the amazing women that have inspired me over the years, the inspiring women whom I consider friends, who've encouraged and empowered me to dare greatly, and the women who's blogs I love to read because of their bright ideas, authentic lifestyle, personal style, and words of wisdom and perspective.

So, it's taken me some time, but I've finally figured out a way to marry the two ideas into something that I'm passionate about and would love to write every month - Mama's Closet (or purse, or nightstand - I leave it up to the feature-ee). It's my take on a blogroll, if you will, where I give back to those fabulous women who've inspired me in one way or another.

So friends, meet Sarah... and her purse:

What one question would you ask a psychic about the future?

Where will we end up living once we really settle down? During my adult life, I haven’t lived in one place for more than three years. It’s hard to imagine ever being content to just stay put for the long haul. Sometimes my husband and I talk about where we’ll end up, and I would be curious to know if we’re on the right track or if we’ll chose a city we haven’t even considered yet.

Who would you like to trade places with for one month?

No one. I’m a very fortunate person, and I try to be thankful for what I have. There are plenty of people who I think have fabulous lives, but I wouldn’t trade places with them for a second!

Where would you choose to live if you had to leave this country?

I’d probably move to Italy. Friendly people, beautiful art and architecture, delicious food…that seems like a recipe for happiness to me! I went there for study abroad when I was in college, and I loved it.

Who has inspired you as a mentor?

From a professional point of view, I have a lot of respect for people who are successful and smart, yet are able to avoid being condescending. Everyone has to start somewhere, and I like the people who recognize that. In terms of my personal life and my role as a mom, I have some close friends who I really admire and whose advice I value. One of my “mom mentors” is my friend Jennifer. I feel like our parenting styles are similar in many ways. Plus, her daughter is a couple of years older than mine, so she’s always one step ahead of me! Other moms that really inspire me are my friends Andrea and Sarah both of whom I’ve known since I was a kid. In terms of travel inspiration, there’s my dear friend Kim…you should check her out. She writes a blog called Flutie McD. (wink, wink)

What one fear would you like to conquer?

When my husband and I were in Aruba for our honeymoon, we went scuba diving. Well, he went scuba diving. I ended up having a panic attack…in four feet of water…in the pool before the actual dive. It was super embarrassing, especially because the scuba instructor was a hot Australian guy. We were practicing what to do if something goes wrong, like you lose your mouthpiece or your mask fills up with water, and something about the mere thought of those scenarios just freaked me out, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Someday I’ll conquer that fear, although just thinking about it now is making me uncomfortable!

* Thank you Sarah for taking the time to answer my silly questions and for giving us a peek into your purse!

Nurturing Yourself Through Creative Expression

I used to be very creative. I played multiple instruments, sang, danced, wrote short stories. And then, almost suddenly (although I have a nagging feeling it wasn't quite as sudden as I now remember), I wasn't anymore. And I didn't really notice it, nor did it really bother me until a few years ago when Juniper was born.

My wake-up call was a weird one. I was in the grips of some gross postpartum depression where I'd stay up all night weeping as I nursed my beautiful brand new baby girl every two hours (which was hard on this new mama as it took her a whole hour to get enough of the boob juice to fill her hungry belly, which meant brief one-hour spurts of rest) only to shuffle downstairs and do the same weeping-nursing-rest routine all day. Never mustering up enough energy or will to shower, get dressed or venture outdoors. I constantly thought about how my life was over - no more freedom to do what I wanted. And I constantly thought about all the things that I still wanted to do that I'd (seemingly) never get to do now that I have a child. And how I wasted my childless years of freedom not doing much of anything... accomplishing nothing... it was a sad sight.

So, I was nestled there in my butter yellow leather couch watching marathon reruns of America's Next Top Model and Project Runway (the birth of my present-day Project Runway addiction passion) while Juniper fed and napped in my arms until Tim came home, when it happened...

The light bulb went off and I was all, WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING JUST SITTING HERE?

I was watching Models of the Runway, the Project Runway spinoff that featured the behind-the-scenes of the models and their relationships with each other as well as with the designers of Project Runway, and one of the models asked another model how she could leave her little girl at home, for an extended period of time, in order to model for Project Runway. And this is what she said to defend herself,

"What kind of mother would I be if I told my daughter to chase after her dreams, if I didn't do so myself?"

And I was all, WORD UP, SISTAH!

And somehow my life wasn't over anymore. I realized that girlfriend needed to get up off of that damn sofa and start living in order to set the example of the type of woman I wanted little Juniper to grow up to be!

Now, don't get me wrong. The transformation wasn't that easy. I eventually would need the help of a healthy diet, regular exercise and a nice dose of happy pills... but her words really did shake me into realizing that motherhood isn't the ball-and-chain that I was imprisoning myself to. That maintaining a healthy independent spirit, doing things to nurture myself, chasing my own dreams, and motherhood is not mutually exclusive, but deeply connected.

My immediate reaction was to book a trip to Athens, Greece where I'd vacation with five-month-old little Juniper - just me and her - for a week. I needed to prove to myself that I could do anything I wanted to. And traipsing half-way around the world to a country where I was illiterate was obviously the most rational way to go about doing this. [sarcasm]

And when I got home, I didn't just nestle myself back down into that yellow couch, I unpacked my bags, washed our clothes, repacked my bags and drove five hours to Chicago, where Juniper and I spent another week of girly vacation time together. I guess I needed to build a firm foundation of acting boldly.

But it worked. And over a span of two years I learned how to not so much balance being a mother and being true to myself (because I've found it can never really be in balance) but rather how to just, in the words of Tim Gunn, "make it work" ... And it had a lot to do with getting back my creativity.

I kinda think that creativity is the greatest gift to mankind.

It's often thought that only special people are creative. That creativity is a rare talent. That people are either born creative or not. But, if we are made in the image of our Creator, then we too are innately creative beings, right? That means everyone has huge creative capacities as a natural result of being human. The challenge is how to develop them.

Nowadays, especially if you're a mom, creating for the sake of creating just seems so self-indulgent. But if you think of your creative spirit as a gift, when we do not accept that gift, we've essentially looked a gift horse in the mouth. And the universe gets really pissed off when we do that - when we don't use our creative gifts.

Creativity, is the expression of our originality, and it helps us to stay mindful that what we bring to the world is completely original and cannot be compared. It can also help us get to a place of self-reflection, where we can evaluate who we are and where we want to go. When I make creating a priority, everything in my life just works better. My marriage. My mothering. My ability to be kind to myself...

Nothing inspires me more than my group of friends who are all trying to make it work by embracing the creative. I think it's so important to find and be a part of a community of like-minded women, who share your beliefs about creativity and are all working on their own dreams, supporting & encouraging each other.

Which is how The Zoetica Project was born. A dear friend and I have, over the course of a year or so, worked really hard in putting together a nine-month-long creative workshop (symbolic of the nine-month gestational period of creating human life) for mothers to nurture their creative spirits and connect with other beautiful and like-minded women. It will culminate in a Mother's Day art show of all the women's art created over the course of the workshop.

I am so excited about this new project, I just had to share it with you. (Thank you for indulging me.)

I'd love to hear about your creative stories... bring it! How creative are you? Do you allow yourself to express your creative energy?

(And if you're in San Antonio and want to learn more about The Zoetica Project, just click the link.)

Mama's Time-out: White Strawberry-Lemon Sangria

Need a way to beat the summertime heat? Try this delicious treat - White Strawberry-Lemon Sangria. An easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy refreshing twist on the traditional Sangria.

When I moved to the heart of Texas three years ago I was amazed at how hot, dry and crispy a place could get. Having lived in Miami, Florida for four years and the deep South during most of my young adulthood, I thought I knew what hot was. Then I experienced that first summer in Texas and I realized that even hotness is relative.

And here we are enjoying our third Texas summer - and I'm eight months pregnant. Needless to say our days have been spent in one of three places: at the pool, inside the upstairs art studio, and sitting in front of a rotating fan perfecting our Darth Vader voices, "Luke, I am your father."

Before all this new baby business, one of my most favorite ways to quench my summertime thirst was to sip on some light and bright bubbly. Some nights I'd throw back a brew with the husband and on other nights, with yummy little evening cocktails - this one was one of my faves. Although I do miss the softening effect of just a hint of booze on a lazy summer evening, the good news for me is that this sangria is still delightful even without the wine and rum.

White Strawberry-Lemon Sangria

• 2 lemons, thinly sliced
• 1 apple, cored and sliced (any kind)
• 1 cup strawberries, hulled and sliced lengthwise
• 1 750 ml bottle white wine (a dry-ish white wine is best – I like Sauvignon Blanc or Chardonnay)
• 1/2 cup white rum
• 4 cups lemon-lime soda

1. Add lemon slices to a large pitcher, then the apples, then the strawberries.
2. Pour the wine and rum over the top.
3. Cover and place in the refrigerator for 4 – 5 hours.
4. Remove from refrigerator and add the lemon lime soda. Add a few pieces of the fruit to your glass and pour sangria over to serve.
5. For a summertime throwback to childhood, sip through a paper straw.

Here's to overcast days that offer temporary relief to the sizzling heat of direct sunlight, running through sprinklers and dancing around in bathing suits while singing Somebody That I Used To Know into popsicle microphones. What are you toasting this week?

The GoodwillSA Project: July

I began my obsession with the mustache a few years ago when Tim was in medical school. He and his classmates decided to hold a month-long mustache contest as a fund raiser for one of their charity events. It turned out to be a huge hit. So much so that it became an annual thing and they even held an Oscar-esque awards ceremony for it, complete with a bald, yet mustachioed man as the trophy. And I just love that mustaches have become all the rage these days. They're at parties. They're used as photo props. They're on bags. They're on t-shirts. They're everywhere.

Perhaps one of the cutest places I've seen them are on mugs. So when I came across these stackable espresso cups at my local Goodwill the other day, I was thrilled! I made my very own set of  mustache mugs.

And now so can you...It’s a very doable project. Inexpensive. Eco-friendly. And family-friendly too. The best part? These mugs are dishwasher safe.

1) Start with a trip to Goodwill, and collect 5-6 plain mugs. They don't have to be stackable or even white. The mugs I found were 99 cents each. Remove labels, wash and dry them.

2) Then gather your supplies. Scissors, pencil, tape, graphite transfer paper, Black (oil-based) Sharpie Paint Pen in Medium Point ($4 at Michaels) and a print out of this handy-dandy mustache template I created just for you!

3) Cut out a mustache and a piece of transfer paper. Tape the mustache and the transfer paper (dark side down) to the mug. Trace the initial. Any pen or pencil will work and you’ll want to experiment with different pressures to see what’s best. You’ll just need a light outline.

4) Take your Sharpie paint pen and trace over the lines of the mustache. Get the edges nice and thick then fill in.

5) Once the lettering is done, let the mugs sit for 24 hours. Then bake them at 300 degrees for 35 minutes. It’s fine to bake them with graphite residue. The graphite will wipe right off even after they’re done baking.

6) And that’s it! Once they’re baked, they’re done. Pull them from the oven, wipe them up and they are ready to go. (We went ahead and made mustaches on both sides of the mugs.)

I'm so excited about the new mugs (and Juniper is too!). I think I might go back to Goodwill to get more mugs to make some more - they'd make perfect teacher gifts, house-warming gifts, hostess gifts... fun for any kind of event, really.

What do you think? Is this a project your kids would enjoy? Are the mugs cool enough that you would buy one in the store if you saw it for sale?

Disclosure: I was remunerated  for this post by The Goodwill of San Antonio.

Thirty Six

There she blows!

That's the belly at thirty six weeks. I am so beyond ready for this baby to be here already! Gone is the whole relishing in the euphoric, my body is a glorious miracle bit. What has taken priority is a desperate infatuation with getting to sleep in any position other than my sides again. And a lust for the ability to be able to bend over at will. And to run... oh-my-goodness! To run again!

Last night I took the belly (and the husband) to a white party at Tony Parker's Nueve Lounge and while I was standing there, sipping my just-tonic-and-lime and feeling morbidly out of place, I thought to myself that this little kiddo has had one wicked-sweet gestational ride - the Sundance Film Festival; the glorious white beaches of South Walton County; the glam of Miami; the swank, once-in-a-lifetime partay with the ghost of Versace at the extravagant Versace Mansion on South Beach; the art and culture of South Korea; tasting his very first pig intestine . . . and now this white party, and later this week Bob Shneider and possibly Joe Cocker.

And I thought to myself, either this kid is going to be a square or he's going to live his life topping what he accomplished while still in the womb. And that, my friends, is kind-of a scary thought for me. Because in all honesty, I'm a little terrified of raising a little dude. Especially my husband's little dude.

You see, my husband is the one of seven who stuck a pair of scissors in the electrical socket. The one of seven who swelled to the size of a Veruca Salt blueberry after having been stung by a nest of bees. The one who got an ax stuck in his skull. The one who sees no danger, just a challenge and probably most definitely a helluva good time. Which I don't fault him for at all. Because it's definitely one of the reasons I married him. I mean, that one time that, on a whim - a "surprise date," he called it - he forced me to jump out of a plane with nothing but a piece of fabric balled up into a knapsack on my back? That totally sealed the deal for me.

So here's to hoping baby fuschia is a square just like his daddy!