What's Coop's Favorite Food?
Video killed the radio star...but it's done wonders for the blog!
I'll set up this clip by saying Coop just finished a banana and he's looking for that extra little "something" to finish off the meal.
It's Just a Ride.
The Barnstable County Fair had a ride called THE GRAVITRON. It was just a big room shaped like a space ship that spun around real fast. I always wanted to go on that ride and it always made me nauseous.
I feel like I've eaten a pound of fried dough and cotton candy and I'm stuck on an ever-spinning ride run by some carnie who refuses to let me off even though I keep screaming, "I feel sick! I need to get off! I don't feel well."
And he laughs and says, "You wanted a ride!"
But I'm done riding. I want a nap.
I keep working, doing, trying for my family. For my husband. For my Cooper. 
I don't want to let them down.
But I'm dizzy.
Feelin' Bloggy?
My life is hectic right now.
I have way too many pies in the oven.
But, if you've come here looking to read about my family and you're sick of my inconsistent posting, then check these bloggy blogs:
If you need more California and Cooper, visit my mom's blog:
RiRi-FIIF
If you want to see what my preggo sis is up to:
Fletchonneaus!
If you want to know who these "Tague" people are who always comment:
Taguelines
If you want to delve into the capricious brain of Andrew Wollman:
Awol
And if you want to read about my friend Jessica Trimble and her adventures in nursing:
Paging Dr. Nurse
And here's a fave of mine, Dave Lowe's cartoon blog:
ParaAbnormal!
More from me soon...well, not so sure "soon" is the right word.
More from me at some point...guaranteed!
A Waste of Cake and Paper?
Happy Birthday, Mr. White.
You told me this year that you didn't want a party because it would be (to quote Patton Oswalt) "a waste of cake and paper."
But Coop insisted on making his Daddy a birthday card. 
Since this was gift art, Coop wanted to move beyond crayons to something with more of an archival quality. 
I busted out the watercolors. Coop wanted to use every brush and dip into multiple colors. His technique is very progressive. 
"Mom! I'm creating art right now! Could you stop it with the photos? You're distracting me."
Here's the finished piece:
Untitled watercolor by Cooper Kingsley White 2/23/08
I think his work is very sensitive. AND he spelled 'Birthday' right! Pretty good.
A great card, an Apple product and breakfast at Big Boy. 
Happy birthday.
Valentine
Remember that time when we talked all night long?
We were shocked to hear birds chirping
A sneaky dawn had arrived
And we kept laughing
Remember that time when you picked me a flower?
You stole it from Beacon Street
Placed it in my hand and said, "It matches your dress."
And we kept walking
Remember that summer on the Cape?
You worked the deli at Star Market
We danced and drank cheap beer
And we kept watching the ocean
Remember that time we didn't talk?
I hated it.
Remember that time we got married and had a baby?
I loved it.
Remember that Valentine's Day when I wrote a piss poor poem-like-thing for you?
We were too broke for gifts
We were too busy to go out
And we kept loving each other anyway.
Play D'oh!
Last week I started my month long stretch in studio. Then, I was abruptly laid off. Then I was suddenly re-hired and now I'm out of a job again.
Weirdest week ever.
Now I'm back to being a full time mommy. It was time to intro (drum roll, please) Playdough.
Coop started by trying to eat it. Of course.
Then, he really got into it. He really liked squishing the colors together and then ripping them apart again. He also enjoyed jamming the colors back into the correct container. He likes sorting and filing and putting things away. Future artist/musician/athlete/administrator.
I like his take on Edvard Munch's THE SCREAM. Nice.
The Story
All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to
It's true
I was made for you
I climbed across the mountain tops
Swam all across the ocean blue
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules
But baby I broke them all for you
Because even when I was flat broke
You made me feel like a million bucks
Yeah you do
And I was made for you
You see the smile that's on my mouth
Is hiding the words that don't come out
And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed
They don't know my head is a mess
No, they don't know who I really am
And they don't know what I've been through like you do
And I was made for you...
-Brandi Carlile
The Artist's Way
I've started a 12-week program called, The Artist's Way.
The book encourages artists to stop judging the art they make and embrace the creative spirit that is alive and at work in all of us. The exercises are supposed to help blocked, stifled and depressed artist find their path. Sure it sounds new-agey, but belittling a method that could possibly aid me as an artist is just fear and self-sabotage, right?
My first assignment is a daily one. It's called, "Morning Pages." Each day when I awake, I'm supposed to grab my notebook and write no less than 3 pages of stream of consciousness writing. No sensor. No filter. No attention paid to punctuation or spelling. No rules.
It was freeing! And it was weird. I started writing about the guy from Blues Clues. 
NO! Not that that one. That's the old dude named Steve. I like the new dude named Joe:
He just handles the material in a very believable way. My stream of conscious writing went on and on about how I prefer Joe to Steve. Oh. My. God. Please don't let me be that mom at the playground talking about which member of The Wiggles is "hot." Yeeks.
Oh...according to "The Artist's Way," I'm not actually supposed to share my stream of consciousness writing.
Am I'm already messing this up? Whatevs. I refuse to judge myself!
SEE! IT's already WORKING!!!! YAY!
Rick Moranis?
"Many Shuvs and Zuuls knew what it was to be roasted in the depths of the Slor that day, I can tell you!"
Blue Period Hero
I wanted to decorate an old messenger bag that had been sitting in my closet. I painted my own version of one of my favorite paintings--Picasso's "The Old Guitarist."
He's sad because he can't make it through 'Knights of Cydonia' on hard.
Do Gnomes and Iconic Mexican Painters Go Together?
Last night I was crabby and goofy at the same time.
I was teasing Jakob because he requires a certain extra soft toilet tissue and I called his bum "dainty."
I don't remember his exact verbal response, but he called me an emotional nutball. (In a cute, friendly way. Not mean.)
I said, "I'm going to wear my Frida Kahlo socks because you're acting sooooo Diego Rivera right now!" (Melodramatically. Playful. Not mean, either.)
I already had my gnome pajama pants on and I started to laugh hysterically when I saw Frida and the gnomes collide.
Boat Cookie!
Last night, Jakob and I stayed up past our bedtime to make Christmas Cookies.
At first, Jakob wasn't going to eat the cookies. He was all like, "No no. I'm going to make a chicken pot pie." And I was all like, "NO! No pot pie! You HAVE to eat the cookies! Consuming the cookie is part of the whole cookie cooking & decorating event." The he was all like, "I don't need nothin'. I'm fine."
And then...I concocted a plan. I ate a cookie myself and said, "Oh, these aren't really cooked in the middle. I messed them up!" I started to pout. He tried to comfort me and say, "I'm sure they're fine." I whined, "No! They're raw. Try 'em." He ate one. "A-HA!" I shouted, "I tricked you! They are deliciously PERFECT! I tricked you into eating a cookie. Mwa ha ha ha haaaa!"
He laughed and started choking on his cookie.
After regaining the ability to breathe again, Jakob started decorating with frosting. He's quite artistic. He made fun of this cookie for being silly, but I think it's beautiful:
It's a little boat on a fierce, wintry ocean! It's a boat cookie! Mmmmmmm. Boat cookie.
Knowing is only HALF the battle...
I'm a worry wart.
I worry about things I can't possibly change.
Sometimes I worry that I'm not worrying enough.
I worry that I worry too much.