Daisee Pics Photography's photostream on Flickr.
It was her first time in Kentucky and she completely blew my mind. Sade has always been one of my favorite artist. It's like an old and faithful wedding, her music has been there for me in good times and bad. I went to the concert as my own date which was a first for me. It was worth every minute and I hope she doesn't wait another ten years before she tours again. Her music is timeless!
13 September 2011
06 August 2011
Special Event Today
This heat has been draining and hard to stay motivated. So today ends World Breastfeeding Week 2011. A local store is sponsoring The Big Latch On. They are trying to break the record for most breastfeeding for the event. As a former breastfeeding mom that loves street photography I thought this a great opportunity to get spontaneous shots. Though my alarm clock didn't go off, I'm fortunate to have someone watch my girl while I shoot around. Hope to post my findings sooner rather than later.
On another note, I plan on updated my blog soon. Maybe someone out there will find something interesting.
On another note, I plan on updated my blog soon. Maybe someone out there will find something interesting.
02 August 2011
Turning 2
I can't believe my Z is turning two in a month. Though she's in the thick of her most terrible two's, I could stand for time to slow down a bit. When she first starting hitting I could stop it with a firm "no." Doesn't seem to be the case anymore. I've tried crying, whining, kicking and screaming along with her. I'm sure I'll figure it out just before the next nervous breakdown.
09 May 2011
Before The Parade Passes By
I took Zaynub to her first Pegasus Parade. It's a big part of the Derby festivities each year. I knew she would have a good time after the Easter parade. We arrived two hours prior to start time. She got a fairly good nap in and stayed asleep up until I found our spot.
My not-so bright idea was dressing her in her WeeSqueaks. I must be into self-torture or maybe this is a form of self-mutilation. Anyway she was fine in her stroller until 45 minutes before it began. Let me tell you that's when the fun began. She leaned over and gave me that look so I let her out. We walked around in small circles...literally. She danced to the squeak of her shoes. Once I saw the lineup getting ready I figured I had some time to wrangle her into the stroller that she's mentally over. Physically she's got maybe the summer or rest of the year. Anyway she fussed and cried and kicked off snot fest 2011. So at last the parade began. She danced to the music, cheered with the crowed and waved to all the passersby. She would get fussy with the delays and I got us through most of them by snapping a few shots. Like this one.
I can't wait for the next parade. I was fairly excited however her enthusiasm took it up a few notches. My favorite part was when she would yell "byeeeeee" to the participants she rather enjoyed.
My not-so bright idea was dressing her in her WeeSqueaks. I must be into self-torture or maybe this is a form of self-mutilation. Anyway she was fine in her stroller until 45 minutes before it began. Let me tell you that's when the fun began. She leaned over and gave me that look so I let her out. We walked around in small circles...literally. She danced to the squeak of her shoes. Once I saw the lineup getting ready I figured I had some time to wrangle her into the stroller that she's mentally over. Physically she's got maybe the summer or rest of the year. Anyway she fussed and cried and kicked off snot fest 2011. So at last the parade began. She danced to the music, cheered with the crowed and waved to all the passersby. She would get fussy with the delays and I got us through most of them by snapping a few shots. Like this one.
23 April 2011
Our Atlanta Vacation
I absolutely love traveling. I haven't been able to travel as much as I'd like however in the past few years that has started to change. So not what I wanted this blog to be about. So let me start there.
This picture was taken during our first trip to Atlanta. We went to Zoo Atlanta and much like the Louisville Zoo, Zboo loves the petting zoo. I thought this picture was especially cute because well, look at it. Z would literally kneel down to each and every animal talking to them as she pet them. When the other little girl came to the pig it was like they had their own discussion going about pigs, petting zoos or something. Z even said bye as she walked over to her next animal.
I love my child and can brag on her for days and days. She's an incredible human being and brings me joy even during the tantrums.
We also went to the World of Coca-Cola Museum and the Georgia Aquarium which I will post pics as time allows. Also I'll discreetly talk about why we went to visit Atlanta and will do again.
This picture was taken during our first trip to Atlanta. We went to Zoo Atlanta and much like the Louisville Zoo, Zboo loves the petting zoo. I thought this picture was especially cute because well, look at it. Z would literally kneel down to each and every animal talking to them as she pet them. When the other little girl came to the pig it was like they had their own discussion going about pigs, petting zoos or something. Z even said bye as she walked over to her next animal.
I love my child and can brag on her for days and days. She's an incredible human being and brings me joy even during the tantrums.
We also went to the World of Coca-Cola Museum and the Georgia Aquarium which I will post pics as time allows. Also I'll discreetly talk about why we went to visit Atlanta and will do again.
04 April 2011
Co-sleeping...Have I Been Replaced?
Today we had to go get the car checked right when a bad storm was passing through the area. Z had a good time running around while I chased her. When we got home she ran into her "cave" and played for a few minutes. Once she became quiet I knew she was in her chair sleeping. Apparently the bed was a better choice. This balloon is apparently her new bff...for the moment.
I've been slowly trying to break myself from co-sleeping. I'm completely undisciplined and know it has to happen someday. She's been a good cuddle buddy except when she kicks me in the face. Lately she's been getting under the blanket with me to let me know it's bedtime. How do you break yourself from that? She has slept in her own bed occasionally and stayed until morning. It's all me, I admit. I have a king size bed all to myself and who else better to share with than the sweetest sweet pea I know. My goal is to be broken of this habit before we move next year. Wish me luck!
I've been slowly trying to break myself from co-sleeping. I'm completely undisciplined and know it has to happen someday. She's been a good cuddle buddy except when she kicks me in the face. Lately she's been getting under the blanket with me to let me know it's bedtime. How do you break yourself from that? She has slept in her own bed occasionally and stayed until morning. It's all me, I admit. I have a king size bed all to myself and who else better to share with than the sweetest sweet pea I know. My goal is to be broken of this habit before we move next year. Wish me luck!
29 March 2011
Got Therapy?
I told my therapist that one of my meds was making me crazy. Yeah she didn't laugh either. This is not a moment of bashing or dishing unsolicited advice. If you've read any of my blogs or scrolled down to see my profile, you know I suffer from depression and anxiety. I'm not ashamed.
For the past nine years I've been seeing a therapist. Not the same one, I've been through my fair share until I found a good fit. Here's my issue, I've noticed the downplay of mental health within the black and church community. First of all, mental illnesses affect all races and religions. The problem is more people are suffering and too ashamed to get proper help. I'm not standing on the mountaintop bubbling over for joy about this. I do recognize that being mental un-thy requires seeking help to HEAL your mind and body. Maybe a person doesn't need medication and just CBT. That's fine too. I just wish people wouldn't suggest I pray more or act like therapy is a secret. I do pray more and I'm also in therapy. It's like physical therapy for your mind. If your brain is sick how can you expect your body to function properly. Seriously it gets to me each and every time I hear someone make a joke or criticize someone else for their mental illness. It's not like they would poke fun at a physical disabled person.
When I was hospitalized during my pregnancy, I was on an antidepressant until I gave birth. Everything seemed normal or what I perceived as normal for a new, single mom. When my daughter was 10 months old I unknowingly took a test for postpartum depression. I was told I scored so high the nurse wasn't supposed to leave Z alone with me. In my defense, not once have I ever had thoughts of wanting to or attempted to hurt my child. I thought PPD was when a mother wants to harm her kid. I was however overwhelmed with not knowing what I was doing and having to do it all alone. Because I was so sleep deprived, I didn't know which end was up and thought it was normal to feel that way. I began seeing the therapist and she told me that normally she admits patients that score where I did. I told her that if she or anyone else separated me from my child, I would really have problems. (that's the edited version) Through therapy and being a proactive patient I've discovered that PPD is not at all what I thought and what I felt was not normal and healthy.
I'm a better mom now and in the future because I recognized and accepted the help needed to care for my Z. I could write a million blogs to tell you all how much I love this little girl. She has changed my life and made me realize that I need to be well to give her all that she deserves. I have a feeling there are a few other moms that feel the same way and won't get help for whatever reason. Trust me, you won't "just" get over it.
For the past nine years I've been seeing a therapist. Not the same one, I've been through my fair share until I found a good fit. Here's my issue, I've noticed the downplay of mental health within the black and church community. First of all, mental illnesses affect all races and religions. The problem is more people are suffering and too ashamed to get proper help. I'm not standing on the mountaintop bubbling over for joy about this. I do recognize that being mental un-thy requires seeking help to HEAL your mind and body. Maybe a person doesn't need medication and just CBT. That's fine too. I just wish people wouldn't suggest I pray more or act like therapy is a secret. I do pray more and I'm also in therapy. It's like physical therapy for your mind. If your brain is sick how can you expect your body to function properly. Seriously it gets to me each and every time I hear someone make a joke or criticize someone else for their mental illness. It's not like they would poke fun at a physical disabled person.
When I was hospitalized during my pregnancy, I was on an antidepressant until I gave birth. Everything seemed normal or what I perceived as normal for a new, single mom. When my daughter was 10 months old I unknowingly took a test for postpartum depression. I was told I scored so high the nurse wasn't supposed to leave Z alone with me. In my defense, not once have I ever had thoughts of wanting to or attempted to hurt my child. I thought PPD was when a mother wants to harm her kid. I was however overwhelmed with not knowing what I was doing and having to do it all alone. Because I was so sleep deprived, I didn't know which end was up and thought it was normal to feel that way. I began seeing the therapist and she told me that normally she admits patients that score where I did. I told her that if she or anyone else separated me from my child, I would really have problems. (that's the edited version) Through therapy and being a proactive patient I've discovered that PPD is not at all what I thought and what I felt was not normal and healthy.
I'm a better mom now and in the future because I recognized and accepted the help needed to care for my Z. I could write a million blogs to tell you all how much I love this little girl. She has changed my life and made me realize that I need to be well to give her all that she deserves. I have a feeling there are a few other moms that feel the same way and won't get help for whatever reason. Trust me, you won't "just" get over it.
26 March 2011
Creating Her Own Traditions
Before Zaynub was born her father and I discussed a few things that we wanted in her life. I wanted both parents to be active. That's another blog when I'm able to say something nice...more like say it nicely. Back to this, being from Iraq he wanted her to have an Arabic name, learn to speak Arabic and have the choice to choose a religion to practice. I agreed she should be exposed to both parents culture however besides the name I'm not able to teach her what I don't know.
So her name is Zaynub Inaya Alea...check. I've already begun to purchase Arabic children's books and language learning DVDs...check. Teaching her Muslim customs is where I hit a brick wall. Not because I don't want her to know. I want her to be respectful of other traditions and cultures regardless if we practice the same. I sort of know maybe one or two things and not nearly enough to instruct her.
Z has spent just about everyday of her life with me not her father. When she did have an overnight away from me, it was maybe 12 hours and has only happened twice (I think). Her father hasn't spent more than 15 minutes with her and it was in my home. She's not ever seen him pray or done anything more than speak Arabic to her. A few days ago my manfriend (he's more than just a boy) came to visit and it just so happens he is a Muslim. When he began to pray, Z watched from her recliner very carefully. Once he got on his knees she got out of her chair, knelled down and touched her forehead to the floor. She's not ever seen this before yet she didn't mess with him, instead she mimicked his actions. The next day I was feeding her breakfast and when he entered the room it was as if she knew it was time to pray. She turned away from me and faced eastward just like him. once again when he got on his knees so did she except this time she started reciting something in baby babble. Truly this touched my heart. She may not have understood what she was doing yet she observed a sacred tradition. I want my daughter to have tolerance regardless of the ignorance she will face in life.
So her name is Zaynub Inaya Alea...check. I've already begun to purchase Arabic children's books and language learning DVDs...check. Teaching her Muslim customs is where I hit a brick wall. Not because I don't want her to know. I want her to be respectful of other traditions and cultures regardless if we practice the same. I sort of know maybe one or two things and not nearly enough to instruct her.
Z has spent just about everyday of her life with me not her father. When she did have an overnight away from me, it was maybe 12 hours and has only happened twice (I think). Her father hasn't spent more than 15 minutes with her and it was in my home. She's not ever seen him pray or done anything more than speak Arabic to her. A few days ago my manfriend (he's more than just a boy) came to visit and it just so happens he is a Muslim. When he began to pray, Z watched from her recliner very carefully. Once he got on his knees she got out of her chair, knelled down and touched her forehead to the floor. She's not ever seen this before yet she didn't mess with him, instead she mimicked his actions. The next day I was feeding her breakfast and when he entered the room it was as if she knew it was time to pray. She turned away from me and faced eastward just like him. once again when he got on his knees so did she except this time she started reciting something in baby babble. Truly this touched my heart. She may not have understood what she was doing yet she observed a sacred tradition. I want my daughter to have tolerance regardless of the ignorance she will face in life.
20 March 2011
She said it!
Those who know me know I'm nowhere near being a chocoholic. Yet I'm just about ready to inhale this pan of low-fat brownies. Now that I got that off my chest and it has absolutely nothing to do with this entry, let me tell you what happened.
Z finally said her first French word last week which is papa (means daddy). I am stoked! She's been watching her videos and listening to a CD since she was just a few months old. It was easier to make sure she heard it when she was younger. Now that's she's mobile she will stay in her room to watch bits and pieces. Some days she watches the entire lesson without leaving her room. Anyway, my ultimate goal is to get her in a French immersion school. Why French? I say why not. I would like for her to be bilingual. Whether she continues with speaking French after high school is up to her. There are so many benefits to being bilingual and that's another subject for another day. To get back to papa, she loves saying that word and I love hearing it even if she's calling me daddy. She even sings it to me several times a day.When she watches her lesson I hear her saying papa as instructed. Makes me smile each and every time.
So last night we went to hang out at the coffee shop. Teri was occupying Z by teaching her to say mama. After a minute or so she says it plain as day! I heard it but when she said it the second time I saw it. Almost as if she said it in slow motion and the letters literally came out of her mouth. Well that's how I felt when I saw and heard my daughter (I'm still in shock that I got pregnant and now I'm a mom ) call me mama for the first time ever. She's my sweet pea even though she's working on her terrible two. I look forward to hearing her next French and/or English words.
Z finally said her first French word last week which is papa (means daddy). I am stoked! She's been watching her videos and listening to a CD since she was just a few months old. It was easier to make sure she heard it when she was younger. Now that's she's mobile she will stay in her room to watch bits and pieces. Some days she watches the entire lesson without leaving her room. Anyway, my ultimate goal is to get her in a French immersion school. Why French? I say why not. I would like for her to be bilingual. Whether she continues with speaking French after high school is up to her. There are so many benefits to being bilingual and that's another subject for another day. To get back to papa, she loves saying that word and I love hearing it even if she's calling me daddy. She even sings it to me several times a day.When she watches her lesson I hear her saying papa as instructed. Makes me smile each and every time.
So last night we went to hang out at the coffee shop. Teri was occupying Z by teaching her to say mama. After a minute or so she says it plain as day! I heard it but when she said it the second time I saw it. Almost as if she said it in slow motion and the letters literally came out of her mouth. Well that's how I felt when I saw and heard my daughter (I'm still in shock that I got pregnant and now I'm a mom ) call me mama for the first time ever. She's my sweet pea even though she's working on her terrible two. I look forward to hearing her next French and/or English words.
14 March 2011
My First Wedding
On February 25, I was the official photographer for a wedding. This was huge and gave me another opportunity to meet with the best photog mentor ever. I took note of every instruction and though I'm overly critical of my work, I did an acceptable job. A couple shots really made me happy. The darkroom is where I'm having the most challenges. I know what I'd like to see, after the event has come and gone. I do however have notes of how to work quicker and smarter if there is a next time. Out of respect for their privacy I'll only posa select few on photo-related sites. Naturally I'll keep you all posted.
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31 January 2011
LuLu
So it has been a week and a day since I surrendered this beauty of a furbaby to PCART. Even while typing this blog the tears are flowing. I wonder if she misses me half as much as I miss her.I named her a year before I knew she was mine. She was named after (in a roundabout way) my father (Louis) and brother-in-law (one of his favorite designers was Louis Vuitton) and me. The reason why I got a papillon is my drill sargent used to call me that because of the movie and it rhymes with my last name. So put it all together I got this gorgeous pap named LuLu.
Lu was born just a few days before I moved out of the shelter and I got her the week she was weaned. She was one of the first things I got when I moved. She made my home complete. My other dog Rubee was very old and I wanted her sister to help prolong her life a bit longer. Though I was in the shelter for only a few months, I felt like I lost so much time. Brodee was allowed to visit quite frequently which helped with my adjustment back to normalcy until that abruptly ended...not by my choice.
We were fortunate to make lots of other furfriends through the years. LuLu was my baby. She had run of the house after Rubee passed away. Normally she was very inviting. Then I got pregnant. I started to notice she didn't appreciate my belly and definitely not the movement that came from it. When I was 23 weeks along, I was hospitalized and LuLu had to stay with a former neighbor (total lifesaver). I remember crying once I realized my life had changed in a split second it seemed. When I gave birth, Zaynub stayed in the NICU for 3 weeks. We moved into a larger apartment and so I had a little time to get it together. When Z was an infant and not mobile, things were good. LuLu seemed to love her sissy bug to pieces. Then sissy bug started walking and pretty much hit the ground running. She would chase poor Lu around, get into her food and water bowls and just bother her. She knew all her hiding places. On the other hand, Z shared every meal, snack and crumb with Lu. I thought for sure we were going to be okay.
A few weeks ago I noticed Lu was showing signs of aggression whenever Z got too close to her. I would yell at Lu to walk away when she saw her coming and try to tell Z to leave her alone. It didn't work. Eventually I couldn't leave them alone for fear of what might happen. LuLu was and still is a sweet girl. She wasn't the baby anymore. I couldn't go take her for a walk at any given time or give her that one on one attention when she craved it. After talking with only a couple people I decided I needed to find her a new home. The first rescue wanted her to stay with me while I interviewed potential new families. I needed to have the least amount of involvement in this process as possible. I knew this was going to be one of those things where if I talked about it too much I would find a way to keep her. When I met her foster mom and surrendered her I was so upset I could barely talk. Our last full day with LuLu, Zaynub woke up and ran down the hallway saying "LuLu" for the first time. Then her last meal she let Z hand feed her bit by bit. Yeah I was a mess.
It really was difficult however I have to protect my child. One day I'll realize I did the right thing for all of us. I know she will go to a good home and get all the love and attention she deserves. I just wish it was at home with me.
26 January 2011
Books, books and more books
Those who know me have seen my collection of books. I love books. My problem is reading the books I've purchased, collected and swapped over the years. So when watching Rachel Ray I heard of Book Mooch. I love, love, love this site. My goal is to clear out the books I have no intentions of reading and focus my library on books/authors that suite my taste.
You list books you want to give away and receive email request to send out. There is a point earning system and you have the option to mail withing your country or worldwide. The thing that will help to control my costs (well, maybe) is that you pay to ship the book. Also for every book you send out you can request two books. It's a great system that I highly recommend to all my book loving friends. Here's a link to my member page. http://bookmooch.com/m/bio/daiseeg
You list books you want to give away and receive email request to send out. There is a point earning system and you have the option to mail withing your country or worldwide. The thing that will help to control my costs (well, maybe) is that you pay to ship the book. Also for every book you send out you can request two books. It's a great system that I highly recommend to all my book loving friends. Here's a link to my member page. http://bookmooch.com/m/bio/daiseeg
14 January 2011
Selfishly Happy
I've been reading more blogs and comments rather than taking the time to blog myself. One common theme I've noticed recently was that people are advising, wishing and/or pleading for other people to not put their happiness first. For example, some of the comments read "People stop thinking only of yourself" or "People are so selfish and don't consider the happiness of others." It goes on and on. It made me think about one of the many times in my life when I sacrificed my happiness for the sake of others.
In a nutshell, I allowed my husband (at the time) to move in his girlfriend so she wasn't homeless over the holidays. I say I allowed it to happen though I was in a low point of life and not capable of making sound decisions. It happened...I lived it...and won't make a mistake like that again. It was embarrassing. They denied being anything other than just friends at that time. Eventually I ended up at a homeless shelter for a few months. I thought moving the girl in was the lowest and worst possible situation. Once again I was wrong. I couldn't take the embarrassment and complete humiliation of my living arrangements so I left. My doctor and therapist had been telling me to consider going to the shelter long before he pulled that stunt. I didn't listen until I ran out of money for hotels, grew tired of crashing with friends after a night of partying and came home to find them behind closed doors in a dark room "playing cards." If this sounds like a nightmarish made for TV drama...trust me, it was my life. The first shelter I went to was horrific. In the minute I used the phone to call my therapist, someone had opened my bag. So I went to McDonald's and waited for my husband to take me to a hotel. I figured my last dollar would be spent on a suite. That was the beginning of learning to be selfish.
Through the years, I've been called a few names other than my own, told I was out to ruin other people's lives and will never find happiness. More recently I was asked by a family member (by marriage) how are things. My initial response was, "Well...you know..." I was told that was an inappropriate response. In actuality it was a delay tactic, I've been known to wear my emotions on my sleeve and give long story replies when the other person could care less. I just needed a little time for self talk before answering. Eventually I replied by saying, "I'm a mother and the happiest I've been in a long time." In my mind I was thinking so much more. It made me realize, I've finally done it...I'm a selfish woman. I have a beautiful dream that came true in my daughter. I've been living on my own for nearly 5 years. A very dear friend of mine told me that my happiness should be my priority. After what I've been through and accomplished thus far...my happiness comes first. I wouldn't be a mother otherwise.
In a nutshell, I allowed my husband (at the time) to move in his girlfriend so she wasn't homeless over the holidays. I say I allowed it to happen though I was in a low point of life and not capable of making sound decisions. It happened...I lived it...and won't make a mistake like that again. It was embarrassing. They denied being anything other than just friends at that time. Eventually I ended up at a homeless shelter for a few months. I thought moving the girl in was the lowest and worst possible situation. Once again I was wrong. I couldn't take the embarrassment and complete humiliation of my living arrangements so I left. My doctor and therapist had been telling me to consider going to the shelter long before he pulled that stunt. I didn't listen until I ran out of money for hotels, grew tired of crashing with friends after a night of partying and came home to find them behind closed doors in a dark room "playing cards." If this sounds like a nightmarish made for TV drama...trust me, it was my life. The first shelter I went to was horrific. In the minute I used the phone to call my therapist, someone had opened my bag. So I went to McDonald's and waited for my husband to take me to a hotel. I figured my last dollar would be spent on a suite. That was the beginning of learning to be selfish.
Through the years, I've been called a few names other than my own, told I was out to ruin other people's lives and will never find happiness. More recently I was asked by a family member (by marriage) how are things. My initial response was, "Well...you know..." I was told that was an inappropriate response. In actuality it was a delay tactic, I've been known to wear my emotions on my sleeve and give long story replies when the other person could care less. I just needed a little time for self talk before answering. Eventually I replied by saying, "I'm a mother and the happiest I've been in a long time." In my mind I was thinking so much more. It made me realize, I've finally done it...I'm a selfish woman. I have a beautiful dream that came true in my daughter. I've been living on my own for nearly 5 years. A very dear friend of mine told me that my happiness should be my priority. After what I've been through and accomplished thus far...my happiness comes first. I wouldn't be a mother otherwise.
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