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So after a two month hiatus, I finally went back to yoga class.

I got up at 6:15 in the morning and walked to the gym. In the dark. In the rain. In the cold.

But damn it, I got there. And the class started perfectly well.

Until smack in the middle of it, our yoga instructor suddenly stops and tells us all that a few days ago, she was hit by a car. Everyone just kind of stares at her.  And no one knows what to say because we are mid sun salutation and it’s just the oddest time to bring this up.

Many minutes go by as she gives us a detailed account of the accident. She was crossing the street. The car actually ran over her. She was between the wheels. Screaming for help. She is fortunate to be alive.

I am horrified.

And very guilty. Because I really want her to stop talking and continue the class. You know, in a very compassionate way.

I’m wondering if I can at least do some stretching while I listen to this super scary tale.

And then she says something that makes absolutely no sense.

“I want to do something different today. I guess because of the accident. I don’t know. So let’s partner up.”

OH NO! Please don’t punish us with a partner. We weren’t driving the car. I’m sorry about the accident. I’m so glad you are ok. PLEASE don’t do this. I’ll chauffeur you around. Anywhere you want to go. Just please don’t make me –

The guy next to me offers to be my partner.

No offense to my very nice partner but if I’m going to touch some random guy, I want to be single, drunk and in the dark.

But it’s done. I’m nowhere near the door. There is no exit. I am so Kevin Costner. There is simply no way out.

So we sit inches apart, holding hands and do this leg stretching thing.

And then a back stretch (yes, holding hands AGAIN).

And then the teacher instructs us to “thank” our partner and believe me, I am THANKFUL – that it’s over.

You know what really pisses me off?

I’ll just bet my partner is complaining to his co-worker right now about the yoga girl with the super sweaty hands or something.

See – this is why it’s so much easier to just not go to the gym in the first place.

mama bird notes

Marinka won the Radio City Christmas Spectacular tickets. Congrats girl!

Johanna and Stephanie (Tyler’s mom) won the Darius Goes West DVDs! Congrats mama birds. Just send your address to kelcey@mamabirddiaries.com and I will send the videos along.

tcp_logoThis week I’m giving away two $30 gift cards to The Children’s Place. This is a fabulous place to shop for kids. Super affordable and you can find some really cute stuff like darling pajamas and robes. Just leave a comment on the mama bird diaries this week and you are entered. Just mention your desperate desire for one of these gift cards so I know you are interested in the giveaway.


Many of us have been restless souls since the presidential campaign. We passionately campaigned for Obama or McCain or Clinton but are now left without focus or direction.

I’ve been waiting for another call to action. But nothing has quite stirred me.

Now there’s word that my Manhattan gals Victory, Nico and Wendy are in trouble.

Lipstick Jungle” is breathlessly close to cancellation. Apparently, only the viewers can save it now.

Well… it’s not exactly like picking the next leader of the free world but heck, tv is cool too.

And I am the girl who helped save Party of Five.  My 1994 glory days.  Don’t think I can’t re-energize the troops and resurrect my letter writing campaign.  I can set up a phone bank for “Lipstick Jungle” in under an hour.  Don’t threaten me, peacock network.

Contributing mama Erin Butler has already signed the petition and sent in her lipstick.

I signed the petition but so far I’m not parting with any tubes of Laura Mercier.  We’re in a deep recession, ladies. I have my limits. But then again, can you really put a price on these abs?

By the way, am I the only one who has watched AND actually really enjoyed “Flirting With Forty?” You know, that sort of dumb Heather Locklear/ Kirby Lifetime movie.

Don’t judge me. You know there isn’t a lot on TV right now.

Meanwhile, guess who is flirting with two?

Yes, my baby girl Summer.

I love you baby girl.

And please don’t think that just because I rambled on about “Lipstick Jungle” and some guy’s abs and some stupid lifetime movie, that I don’t love you beyond words.

Because I always save the best for last. Happy Birthday my little Summer. XO


When you are trying to weather a severe economic meltdown, you must look for money making opportunities everywhere.

Like maybe taking on a part time job.  Or selling a U.S. Senate seat in Illinois.

That Governor Blagojevichitslkaslgkhalghsilsich really knows how to take action when times are tough.

Am I the only one who thinks it’s kind of sweet that he was also trying to secure a lucrative job for his wife too? You know, sweet in a very corrupt, smarmy kind of way.

I don’t know why everyone is coming down so hard on him. The guy has bills to pay, hair care product to purchase.

Ok. Tip number two. Even in this crappy economy, there ARE jobs.

According to a recent news report, there are openings in pipeline transportation and mining. Yup. Seriously.

Remember when your folks used to say, “What in heavens to betsy are you going to do with a pipeline transportation degree?”

Well, look at you now, Miss Smarty Pants.

If perhaps, you didn’t have the brilliant foresight to major in pipeline transportation, it’s definitely time to cut costs.

Follow Rick’s lead…

My husband is a true martini man (I mean, we named our dog Martini for gosh sakes).  Of course, we got rid of our dog but Rick still likes his drink.

In an effort to save money, Rick recently gave up his ritzy Grey Goose vodka for the more favorably priced…

Tito’s vodka.

And yes, it’s as velvety and smooth as it sounds.

Another way to save some cash… Instead of spending 40 bucks a ticket to take the girls to fun kid shows like Sesame Street Live or Dear Edwina, they now get to dance at home to Neil Sedaka’s new children’s CD, “Walking Up is Hard To Do.”

Nobody gets you through the hard times like Sedaka.

Well, there is some good news. At least President Obama is working hard at the White House to fix this whole ridiculous mess.

What?! That Bush dude is STILL in charge? Are you sure? Because it really seems like his time is up.

And Governor Blagojevichitslkaslgkhalghsilsich hasn’t yet stepped down? What is that guy waiting for?!

Ok. We may need another round of Tito’s. For everyone.

mama bird notes;

Is your DVR or Tivo selection just bumming you out lately? Click on drooling over this to learn about a movie that truly inspired and amazed me.

And last chance to win tickets to the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, staring the Radio City Rockettes! One New York area mama bird will win 4 tickets to the 4 pm show on December 28th.

To enter, just leave a comment on the mama bird diaries this week and tell me what you imagine is the best perk about being a Rockette.


Walk four or five blocks in any direction and you will suddenly stumble upon a large selection of Christmas trees. This city can be so brilliantly convenient.

A 10 year-old girl named Ava, who must be from some cute woodsy place like Vermont or New Hampshire, will gleefully bound over to you and start describing the the variety of trees available.

Is it legal for a 10 year-old to sell trees? I’m not so sure but I can’t let these so-called child labor laws ruin my holiday merriment. Ok, I am not overflowing with Christmas cheer this year but I am hoping a tree will kick start the joy.

“How much is this one?” I ask Ava.

“Oh that’s 60 dollars.” she responds.

“Ok. I’ll take it.”

I don’t even try to barter. I can’t nickel and dime this sweet girl who probably has dreams of starting her own tree farm someday.

“So Ava, where are you from anyway? Up North?” I ask.

“Oh I just live across the street. They hire me every year to help sell trees.”

Damn city kids.

If you haven’t yet stomped away in disgust for being outsmarted by a darling elementary school kid, Ava will then wrap up your tree and even saw off the extra branches.

Should a 10 year-old really be using a saw?

My dad, Dylan and I drag the tree home (although free delivery is available) and we attempt to place the tree in the stand. But the stump is too darn fat.

Apparently, 10 year-olds totally suck at sawing trees.

So I get down on my knees and do it myself.

Oh, I didn’t realize Rick was taking pictures. Ok, I made my dad do it.

Should a 65 year-old man really be using a saw?

At least he’s not wearing his fancy tracksuit.  I don’t want to be responsible for the demise of my dad’s favorite threads.

Finally, my daughters did some decorating, mostly focusing on the lower right hand quadrant of the tree.

I’m not sure what that piece of red cardboard is all about… but I think it’s yuletide edgy.

mama bird notes:

Looking for a cute holiday gift? How about sending some good thoughts? Click on drooling over this to read more and take advantage of a mama bird discount.

One mama is looking for ideas on earth friendly wrapping paper. Have a tip for her? Click on askamama and share your brilliance.

And finally this week I’m giving away tickets to the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, staring the Radio City Rockettes! One New York area mama bird will win 4 tickets to the 4 pm show on December 28th.

To enter, just leave a comment on the mama bird diaries this week and tell me what you imagine is the best perk about being a Rockette.


Rick and I have been dealing with some major stress lately. Some things I can’t write about and some things I can.  But I’m hoping that just maybe, just possibly we’ve hit rock bottom over here.

Now didn’t we elect Barack Obama President? I thought he was going to bring eternal peace and happiness to all mankind? I swear, I saw that in one of his ads.

Well, maybe once he’s inaugurated.

But there is always gratitude for what we have.  And each night when I put Dylan and Summer to bed, I kiss their sweet cheeks and thank the twinkling stars that they were brought in our lives.

And the other night, I checked on them before I turned in and here is how I found Dylan:

Yup, that’s a hat and scarf combo, along with a pair of gloves, that she dug out of one of her drawers.

I promise she was just wearing pajamas when I said goodnight to her. I never once thought to bundle her up in outerwear. I totally have to start thinking outside the box.

Meanwhile, my father has been staying with us while Rick recovers from his surgery.

And my dad’s clothing choices are somewhat questionable. For example, on Friday night, we went out to dinner at a cool, fancy nancy restaurant in the meat packing district.  And my dad wore a…

tracksuit. Hmm….

And the next day, I took my dad and the girls to the World Financial Center where there is lots of room to run around, art exhibits and places to eat. And apparently….

tracksuits work there too.

On Sunday, I was almost disappointed when he opted for cords.

My 65-year-old dad happens to be single so if you know any lovely ladies who have a things for men in tracksuits, he might just be their prince.

Dylan and Summer are having a wonderful time with my dad.  And Rick is recovering slowly but surely. Frankly, I think he’s just relieved that I’m no longer following him around with a camera.

And you’ll be so proud of me. I didn’t eat a single candied nut over the weekend. Mostly because we don’t have any of those sinister Nuts 4 Nuts carts in my neighborhood. But still. Gotta give a girl some credit for not taking an ill fated subway ride uptown.

mama bird notes:

Jen P. is the winner of the Cirque du Soleil tickets! I really was impressed by the wide breath of aerobatic skills from all of you. And I am now wracking my brain to figure out how to take all that talent and turn it into a money making opportunity. You know, some kind of Cirque du Soleil knock-off blog troop.

This week I’m giving away tickets to the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, staring the Radio City Rockettes! One New York area mama bird will win 4 tickets to the 4 pm show on December 28th.

To enter, just leave a comment on the mama bird diaries this week and tell me what you imagine is the best perk about being a Rockette. Just FYI… Rockettes must be between 5’6″ and 5’10”, proficient in tap, jazz, ballet and modern dance AND display a radiant energy on stage. Wow. That sounds exhausting. Especially for a 5’4″ chick like myself.

kelcey kintner