A new nephew!

If you need a darling baby for your live nativity scene, I know a newborn who'd make a perfect Baby Jesus. His name is Hudson and he just arrived this afternoon. Soon he'll discover that I'm his favorite aunt.

Coming to terms with the curls

I have never liked my hair.

My hairdo in 1st grade was Dad's doing. I'm the only one with such curly hair in my family, so none of us knew what to do with it. Dad had this big brush with soft bristles he'd drag through my kinky curls until I had a giant pouf on my head. Then mom would come along and snap it down with two little barrettes.

Basically, I spent my childhood looking like a muppet.

When I got to junior high, I went through all kinds of agony trying to fit in with the other girls who had luscious straight hair they'd smooth down so demurely in class. I was sure they were doing it to torment me and I tried so hard to replicate that look - waking up two hours before school to put big hot rollers in, which was pointless and gave me the same muppet-look as my dad's big brush.

We have holiday photos at the dinner table where I'm trying to hide behind the turkey - my hair sticking out in a giant-gelled triangle.

I like to think I've matured a lot since then, but I still haven't come to terms with my curls. I've developed this way of kind of pretending my hair's not there when I look in the mirror or walk down the street. I’m always sort of horrified to see photos of myself.

"That’s what I look like from the side? Why didn’t somebody tell me?"

Then a few weeks ago I hear about this video that's gone viral on YouTube. It's a Sesame Street muppet singing about her hair.



I don't even cry in sappy movies, but this little singing puppet got me all misty and a bunch of other people, too. More than a million people have watched it and check out the messages on the video page . . . I followed some of the links in those comments and found out there are actually online support groups for curly people. I had no idea.

It's more than a little ironic, I know, that I'm getting this message from a muppet when for all these years I thought my problem was that my hair made me LOOK like a muppet.

But I've resolved to turn over a new leaf. I recently found a hairdresser who specializes in curly hair and I commiserated with some other girls at work who are African American and have super-kinky curls. At their urging I bought some new products off the black hair aisle at the drug store, which I always avoided before thinking my hair was much different than African American hair. It's not, I've discovered.

You probably won't notice a difference when you next see me: my curls are just as tight and unruly as always. But I think maybe there's a difference happening on the inside.

Going to great lengths

Twenty minutes can seem like an eternity when the kids at church are distracted and I'm supposed to be teaching them songs. I'll do anything to keep their attention, including sewing beads on an old sock and insisting everyone sing loudly if they want "Tommy the Turkey" to poke his head out and say "Hi."

Holiday flashback

I sang a song in church today that my brother used to sing in his choirboy years. He sang it much better than I ever could, starting with the fact that it's from the perspective of a shepherd boy. Plus he's a singer and I'm more comfortable behind the piano.

But anyway, click here for a rough recording of me with "Star of Bethlehem." My dear friend Cydne's at the piano where I was dying to be about half way through the song.

New York State of Mind

Santa is marching in Manhattan today and I'm not there. But I was two weeks ago, staying with a friend who has this amazing 16th-floor view of Central Park.

I arrived at 9 a.m. and ended up hanging around the condo for a few hours because the view was so lovely and I was too tired to face the streets.


Ate some great food. Saw a play on Broadway - no music, just serious acting by famous people (Laura Linney, Christina Ricci). Met up with an old friend on Saturday morning. Then my excellent host Mbe and I went on a tour of a historic village in Central Park.

Thoroughly enjoyed the MOMA, which is a big step for me because I've never liked modern art. Now I realize that modern art is just fine. It's the avant garde contemporary piles-of-garbage as art that I'm not interested in. Klimt, Picasso, Johns and co are just fine. And the NY MOMA has a cool sculpture garden with an original metro gate from Paris.



Another highlight - somewhat suprisingly - was attending church in Harlem. Quick weekend trip to a city I haven't visited in years and ought to visit more often, since it's only a 90 minute flight from Charlotte. And I didn't even get groped by the security guards!

Another November Birthday

My brother has the two cutest little girls on the planet. Plus he has a firepit, a swingset, a tree house, a trampoline and a bungee harness for super-high jumping in his backyard. And he's making a Frankenstein truck out of spare parts. You might also have heard him singing on more than one movie soundtrack.

He's pretty much the coolest guy on the block and a good one to have around when you need anything fixed/fabricated/fun. He's always had the biggest ideas in the family and the skills to back them up. I'm more of a leader than a follower, but when my brother Chris is around, I'm always proud to be a tag-a-long because I know we'll end up somewhere cool.

Happy birthday brother.

To Laura

My poor little sister has had a rough week on the health front and a bummer of a birthday. But I need to pay her a bit of tribute because she has a gift of making me feel like it's MY birthday several times a month.

I'll be shuffling through yet another day of stress and deadlines and self-imposed blech when my phone will beep and there will be the cutest picture of my sweet nephew or some funny video of him dancing. Laura always knows how to brighten my day. I wish I could do more to brighten hers for her birthday.

Love you Low.