Fancy Like Mommy company partner with Chicago’s own TK photography for the “Styling with The Heath Dolls” Fashion and Lifestyle Blog Series

About a month ago, Three year old Chicago fashion models and style influencers DBA “The Heath Dolls” announced the launch of their new fashion blog entitled “Styling with The Heath Dolls” The publication will be housed on the Chicago Tribune Chicago Now now website and will offer insight into all things related to children’s fashion and lifestyle.

TK Photography, a well known and established children and family photography company located in Chicago IL, has joined forces with the production to capture the best fashion and lifestyle visuals featuring the “The Heath Dolls” and occasional guest. The amazing work from TK’s photography company can be found in several other publications including Chicago Parent Magazine, Bump club and Beyond and Chicagoland Families.

The first publication of “Styling with The Heath Dolls” is set to launch June 1st 2020. Fancy Like Mommy will be hosting a virtual launch party inviting families, children’s boutique owners, stylist, and media to celebrate the occasion. The virtual party, will be hosted on The Heath Dolls official Instagram page. Be sure to follow them here for exact dates and time. https://www.instagram.com/theheathdolls/

To learn more about this topic or to become a featured sponsor, Email [email protected]

 learn more about TK photography and or book private photography sessions visithttps://www.tkphotographychicago.com/

As a result of the global pandemic, online film festivals are now in bloom. Austin’s SXSW has launched an event with Amazon which shares 35 select films for free (now through May 6th).  We Are One: A Global Film Festival partnership between YouTube and 20 international film festivals––among them Berlin, Cannes, Sundance, Toronto, Tribeca, and Venice––will be bringing curated selections to the streaming platform from May 29 – June 7 for free. Not to be outdone, emerging festivals like Orange Leaf’s Films in Isolation will also stream for free on the platform throughout the month of May.

This time of global social distancing is providing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to experience normally exclusive international cinematic art––thoughtfully curated by festival programmers––from the comfort of our homes. In much the same way that festivals like Tribeca and Sundance were founded from a strong desire to support and engage the communities in which they reside, this season’s festivals responses to the pandemic is no different.

This time of social distancing is simultaneously a time of reflection and support, prompting compassion and tolerance, and an opportunity to acknowledge the absurd. While many festivals will be sharing selections that were in the pipeline before the pandemic began, a few festivals like Orange Leaf’s Films in Isolation (Fii), have curated a special collection of films that represent perspectives on isolation –– both before and during the pandemic. Fii samples perspectives from across the globe while quietly encouraging us to listen to each other’s voices; it permits us a journey into fragile spaces, and thoughtfully grants the US audience the opportunity to experience a couple of selections without the brace of subtitles. This journey through film shares a few minutes in the life of the other, the struggles of the other, the challenges of the other; leaving us feeling not so distant from each other.

Oh, boy, has the Me Too movement ever bitten Biden’s butt!

When we Americans embraced Me Too, we were expected to believe the story of every single woman who said she was harassed, assaulted or affronted in some way–no matter how lacking in detail–or credibility.  No matter how nuts she was, no matter if she had a reputation as a gold digger or a history of mental illness or a penchant for pathological silliness.  Her story was to be believed.  We had to believe them all.  Period.  To make up for the past.

Or else we were as bad as the abuser.

We weren’t allowed to question anything.  Like some of the Cosby accusers who said he drugged them more than once, over time.  We weren’t allowed to ask why the hell they’d go back for more. Only to complain about it when money became the issue.

Women fell in love, and when there was a breakup, there were often accusations of harassment.  And  because he was a little higher in the pecking order, a new kind of alimony was in order.  The cost/benefit of falling for someone.

But one question hasn’t been settled by Me Too.  The one that Joe Biden’s situation begs for an answer to.

Is the accused person supposed to believe the accuser?

I would say yes.  For consistency.

Maureen Dowd, in her latest column, has an excuse for this this dilemma:  “But as with any revolution, there was some overcorrection.”

And so with Biden, correcting the overcorrection has started.

Beginning with glowing statements about him from big Me Too-ers like senators Kirsten Gillibrand and Kamala Harris and Speaker Nancy Pelosi–while his credibility and future were on the line because he didn’t answer the accusations in the flesh for almost six weeks.  Nor was he asked about them in 19 interviews.

And his memory, already a huge issue as he shows more and more signs of senility as we speak, isn’t being tamped down by saying so many times, “I don’t remember” when he finally did turn on the camera in the basement for the Mika Brzezinski grilling.

He’s got everything to lose, so is he supposed to believe former aide Tara Reade?  Say it’s true, that he penetrated her private parts in a hallway without asking?  Or is he supposed to call her a liar?  Or should he just say, “It’s not true.”  Or “I don’t remember if it happened.”

He sort of mushed all that up and is doing everything at once.  But he’s senile, so that’s to be expected.

Both parties say they cannot provide proof that there is/is not a complaint that was made.  Reade says she doesn’t have a copy of the 27-year-old document.  But MSNBC’s Brzezinski told Joe he could clear up a lot if he would allow the University of Delaware to scour thousands and thousands of records from his senatorial career that they have in their possession.  But he can’t, he admitted, who would do it?  And the papers don’t include personnel documents, anyway, but they do contain other documents that can now be used against him in his quest to become prez, he said.

As for Reade, her friends and family and even her now dead mother–who called The Larry King show after the “digital” assault happened in 1993 to ask him for advice to help her daughter–all corroborate her story.

Still, big Me Too people shrieked that Joe (who’s teetering on the edge of being “all there”)  wouldn’t do a thing like that!

Not to be included in the ironic chorus on this issue is Hillary; even though she believes Joe didn’t do it.  But Hillary never believed any of the women who accused her husband of anything.  From taking advantage of them to raping and injuring them.  And word is, she wants (as so many others do) to be Joe’s vice.

And all the dems, who started Me Too and who weaponized it like an AK-47 assault weapon against Brett Kavanaugh are facing the chickens coming home to roost.

Back then, even though there were a slew of FBI investigations that were carried out reviewing his fitness while vetting him for his previous jobs as White House Secretary and federal appeals court judge, his job as Supreme Court justice hung on whether or not he acted like an idiot in high school and college.  And the Me Too movement dug in.  Chomped down. Bit off.

I’m always a little suspicious of anyone in high school and college who doesn’t act like a complete idiot at some point.  Because that’s pretty much the time to get acting like an idiot out of your system, clean up any and all bad acts and impulses and go on to do the right thing for the rest of your life.  Horsing around among a bunch of drunken teens in high school isn’t the same as a senator cornering a staff member in a hallway and doing what Biden is accused of doing:  lifting her skirt and digging his fingers into her privates.

Whether drunk or not in high school, if you’ve become a decent adult,  much admired by justices Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Elena Kagan, who think you’re a mensch, and you’ve hired more female clerks in your career than anybody else ever has, you’re good to go.

But that’s just me talking.  He wasn’t good to go, according to Me Too, which as we now see apply their principles to some of a particular political persuasion.  And not so to others.  (Unless you’re Al Franken.)

If you’re a progressive, note that the Me Toos, haven’t weighed in yet. Maybe because Bernie Sanders hasn’t been accused yet.

A wild-eyed Gillibrand did push touchy-feeler Al Franken out of the senate–I think because she didn’t want a more popular dem to compete with her for the presidential nomination.  Where she ended up running at about one percent–in spite of Franken’s absence.

So, did Joe do it or didn’t he? If he did, he was in the middle of his career as a senator, on his way to being president someday, and having done many questionable (some would say, even terrible) things as he traversed that path.

Like his abominable Anita Hill-related behavior.  He wouldn’t let other women testify who would back up her story about Clarence Thomas.

And his great infusion of obscene corporatism that allowed  credit card companies, headquartered in his own corporate friendly state of Delaware to have at us like vultures.  Not to mention exacerbating all-encompassing unfair debt issues.

Then there’s his devastating behavior in Ukraine and China that totally enriched his crackpot crack-addicted son.

Not to be outdone, there’s his disgusting war mongering, and his being part of an administration that threw people out of their houses–while giving the dirty double crossing banks all their money back that cost these same families their homes, their savings and their lives.

Which begs this question: with senility and sexual assault accusations and a totally unprogressive, corporate enrichment agenda in his past, do the democrats really need to run him for president?  Is Jill Biden going to read a script for him every day for his whole campaign, let alone his whole term? With a school marm delivery that belongs in a kindergarten class?

It’s not too late, dems, to choose another candidate.  Very tricky, yes.  But not impossible.  Joe Biden should have to earn our votes in November. And I don’t see how he can.  “Anybody But Trump” is not a good strategy. Voters have to see you’re for something, not simply against the other guy.

In spite of what you think the polls show, Biden offers nothing.  Except his name isn’t Trump.

Maybe DNC head Tom Perez, who’s been garrulously and obnoxiously pushing for the addle-brained Biden, has an agenda:  Biden the figurehead!?

He’ll sign on to the corporate democrat agenda, no questions asked, dictated by Nancy P. and Chuckie S. and Perez himself.  Who will tell him what to do every step of the way for Big Pharma, the Health Insurance Industry, the Arms Manufacturers, Wall Street and Big Banks.  Whoo-eeeee!  Sounds great, huh?

Perez et al might be thinking something like this….  Look, the people chose an inarticulate, mentally ill, corporation enabling pussy grabber last time, right?  If that’s what they want, we have one of our own to give them!

Yes, they’re giving us the guy who failed miserably in his first three 2020 primaries but who somehow resurrected enough in the reddest of the red, never ever blue state of South Carolina, and who at this point is still several hundred delegates away from winning his primary, even though he has no opponent.

And that’s creepy, Joe.

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To say that 2020 has been a crazy year is the understatement of the century. I am totally done with 2020 and it’s only May 4th.

For nearly everyone, this year has been “unprecedented”.  In a deeply personal way, it has been quite unprecedented for my family and I, too.

After a 12 year battle with ovarian cancer, my step-mom of 33 years passed away quietly on January 4th. She had LIVED all of those years, vibrantly and without excuses. She was a warrior until she couldn’t be, then she left on her own terms. Her many friends and family honored her at her wake and funeral. She was loved by so many!

For my 86-year-old father, this was his second wife lost to the beast, cancer. Watching him struggle with his own health while attending his wife’s funeral was beyond heart-wrenching.

Concern for his safety and well-being in a large, two-story home quickly became the biggest issue for my siblings and I. How would he care for himself alone? Would he let us help him? (He wasn’t good with help from anyone, let alone his children).

He answered all our questions when 18 days after my step-mom’s, my dad took his last, quiet breath in hospice care, my oldest brother sitting nearby. In less that three weeks, my siblings and I, and all 15 of their grandchildren, lost them both. 2020 was off to a less then stellar start, and dealing with it was nightmarish.

The folks at the funeral home were surprised to see us again so soon; they treated my sister and I with an abundance of grace and compassion. Professionals through and through, they were wonderfully human at the same time. I’m still in awe.

On a bright day, the first sunny day since the new year, we said goodbye to my father. As a US Army veteran, we chose to have an honor guard for him; a couple of soldiers to play taps and ceremoniously remove and fold the US flag my father always wanted. The irony of the two soldiers being women was not lost on us.

My father was gentleman. He opened doors, held chairs, was the lead in a dance, walked on the street side of the sidewalk, gave up his seat and a multitude of other generosities for women.

He was also very opinionated about what women could and couldn’t do, including me, his eldest daughter, when I became a firefighter/paramedic. Seeing the two highly polished, professional FEMALE soldiers honoring him at his final resting place gave us all a subdued chuckle.

Very quickly, reality set in we when collectively thought, “Now what?”  There were wills to sort out, bills to pay, utilities to cancel, a house to empty and sell…and probate. Ugh.

It was totally beyond me to deal with it. I am so grateful for my sister and step-sister who, as co-executors of the wills, took the proverbial bull by the horns and managed everything. My brothers and step-brother were amazing, too, pitching in, clearing parts of the house, dealing with attorneys, and sitting in on meetings with financial peeps in order to sort out the jumbled mess dying too close together creates.

I mostly stayed away. Before I go further, I want to make this very clear – I loved and respected both of my parents. They both cared about me and my family, and they both did some really wonderful things for me over the years. I never want to take that away from them.

However – you knew an “however” was coming – our relationship was challenging, and at times, toxic. I love deeply, so when I get hurt, I get hurt deeply.

I carry no grudges; forgiveness abounds, but I learned that it was in my best interest, and my children’s best interest, to limit the time we spent together. That sounds sad, but was absolutely necessary.

My family and I were rarely in my parents home over the last decade, so we had little attachment to the things there. I wished to have only a few items that were my mom’s or that I had given as gifts, and I collected those shortly after the funerals. I had no interest in cleaning out their house.

I’d already done that once, when I was nineteen years old. Two years after my mom died, my dad married my step-mom. It was OK. We knew her, and she was good for him.

However, we sold our home, she sold her home, and we moved into the house they stayed in for 33 years.

Guess who had to rummage through everything in the crawlspace, the closets, the basement and every nook and cranny of every room in the house?

I didn’t have help. There wasn’t anyone around to help me pack stuff, or cry with me over my mother’s childhood dollhouse furniture I found in a box in the back of crawlspace. More irony – the newspaper her dollhouse items were wrapped in was dated with my birthday, several decades before I was born.

When the time came to do it again, this time for the final time, I simply couldn’t. I tried, but my siblings, wonderful and amazing humans, have strong personalities and opposing viewpoints on many topics. Being together with them in the same confined space, even if it was 2300 sq ft of confined space, was more than I could deal with emotionally.

They had strong opinions on when things needed to be accomplished and did an outstanding job of hitting, even beating, their own deadlines. The house went on the market, and as of late last week, is under contract. Selling the house is important and absolutely necessary, but it makes the loss very, very final.

In the midst of all the personal emotional stressors, this unprecedented worldwide thing is happening. We have to plan when we will be at the house to maintain proper social distancing. The closing will likely happen virtually or in a Zoom meeting. Zoom used to be a children’s show I watched with my siblings. Now, it’s the tool we use to conduct meetings and real estate closings.

I am grateful we were able to have their funerals, unlike so many today who cannot. I am grateful for a large family who were willing to take on tasks I was not. I am grateful to be employed when so many are not.  And yet, amid my abundant gratefulness, I hesitantly embrace the sadness and grief while closing a chapter of  life called “my parents.”

While attempting to title this post, one of my ideas was – 2020, I want a do-over. Ummm…no. No way. No do-overs for this year. That would suck.

Instead of doing it over, I – we – will move forward. Sometimes we will go quickly, sometimes we will crawl on our hands and knees in gut-wrenching pain, but we will move forward.  For, as a very dear friend of mine always says, “Forward is a pace.”

Psalm 34:18 (ESV)

¹⁸ The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.

Matthew 11:29 (ESV)

²⁹ Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.

Biblegateway.com

Many blessings to all of you. Stay well and wash your hands.

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“Cinco de Mayo,” that was a Liz Phair song, from Whitechocolatespaceegg, her third record, released in 1998.

It was a great time in my life. I had the whole world before me, but I squandered it. Unaware of the march of time, I thought I had forever?

How do you prepare for the future if no one teaches you? The person raising me was in her 70’s, looking at the past. Grandma talked only of God and hard work, day to day life. She used to say, “Adam, pray every night, and God will provide you with a good wife.”

Instead of following my dreams, I looked for love; my fault. I thought I needed to be defined because everyone else in this one-horse town was settling down. I wanted love for all the wrong reasons and, so, it was fleeting.

After much drinking, drugging, and failure, I met Jen. She helped me find the life I was pining for, and the love worth working towards. I wanted school and graduation from college. I wanted the city, the jobs in high rises, radio stations, restaurants, and then, years later, the breweries.

I envisioned the life, but never gave myself the freedom to find it, until I was older. It takes guidance, risk, and persistence. I always credit my wife for guiding me, pushing me when needed. I was afriad of my own shadow, and sometimes I still feel this way. We can all use a little nudge.

“Cinco de mayo, blowout, denial/It wasn’t fun this time, letting you go
What if I never, a bullet forever/Held out my hand to you?
We wouldn’t have known beautiful flow.” -Liz Phair

No matter who you are, I dare you to search for the freedom to accomplish your dreams. Whether they be love or life.

Happy Cinco de Mayo. Happy Freedom!

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