On Saturday, I went to the Design Collective Market, the brainchild of clothing designer Kathy Malone, at the Old Stone House.

On two floors, more than 20 of Brooklyn’s hot, new, design stars were selling their indie handbags, jewelry, children’s
clothing, accessories, and paper and lifestyle goods.

Here’s what I got: a lovely quilted blue skirt with a red floral lining by Fofolle for 2-year old Ducky.

Lot and Lots of cool things to buy. Here were some of my faves:

–Beautiful skirts in beautiful fabrics and great t’s and tanks with appliques by Fofolle

–Loved Elaine Perlov’s clothing and her obie belts. She was featured on Daily Candy and Lucky Magazine’s Pick of the Day.

–Pretty, pretty necklaces with glass beads and baubles by Kristin Eno

–Cool name and cool stuff from Slope Suds

–Beautiful hand-screened goods by Foxy & Winston

So much more — I just don’t remember all the names. Special, special things and a great way to support local, indie talent and own something beautiful and unique in the process.

The Design Collective has a large membership and Kathy Malone has many more shows planned for this eclectic group of artisans and designers. Stay tuned for more shows.

here are the links that might not be working:
http://www.elaineperlov.com/
http://www.k-b-e.net
http://www.foxyandwinston.com/

and a link to more designers featured at the Design Collective shows:
http://www.fofolle.com/bim/designer.html
(please check back here, this will continue to be updated with more links added)

She’s at it again. This week Amy Sohn has a piece in New York Magazine (her column is now called Breeding). The pull quote: When every restaurant and coffee bar doubles as a playroom, is there such a thing as adult space anymore?

But the piece is about so much more than public space. It’s about one woman’s need to be perceived as cool even though she’s doing that most uncool of things: being a mommy.

But first let me say this: what Sohn has to say about public space is pretty much on the money. Now that I’ve got "older kids" I get crazy when I go out to a nice place for dinner with Hepcat and there’s a screaming baby nearby. Hate it. It rattles my nerves; I’ve really lost my tolerance for that sort of thing.

But thank god I had tolerance for it when my kids were babies. We obsess over them and love their every poop, their every scream because we are madly in love. Sure, they drive us to near nervous breakdown. But the perpetuation of the species is dependent on parent adulation of their offspring.

The reason this generation of moms have brought their kids into public spaces is because they recognize the need for connection, the need to get out and be part of the world. What’s the alternative? For moms to be contained in a special mommy ghettos?

It’s noisy, smelly, and nerve rattling, but having babies among the general population means that moms don’t have to endure solitary confinement with child during the early years.

In her column,  Amy Sohn is expressing a lot of the sames things that got said a few months ago ad nauseum when the "No Stroller Manifesto" came out.

Remember that? A bartender  at Fifth Avenue’s Patio posted a rant against parents bringing kids to bars.

Sohn’s piece is basically a rehash of a lot of the blogging, commenting and conversation that went on back then. I even wrote a Smartmom piece for the Brooklyn Papers about the baby backlash.

Clearly, Sohn is trying to carve out some editorial space for her "self-hating mom" stance. You can bet there’s going to be yet another book out about the totally cool mom who doesn’t want to be identified as a mom (see hippie mom, boho mom, counterculture mom 1960’s and 1970’s).

New York Magazine is obviously eating it up. They ran a piece last week about Urban Baby, an on-line community of moms that delves into some of that territory, too.

I’d say 2006 is becoming the year of the Anti-Mom, the cool mom, the anti-SAHM, the mom who has disdain for other moms and the culture’s current obsessions with mommydom. It’s the backlash backlash.

Clearly, Sohn doesn’t want to be identified as a Park Slope mom. When she goes to the Tea Lounge she wants to say, "I know I look like one of them, but I am NOT!

She does what she can visually to differentiate herself from the pack. "My goal is not to look like a mother so much as a still-young, still-cool person who just happens to have a child."

Ah, the young still-cool person. Sohn may not mommydom, but she’s obsessed with our culture’s preoccupation with youth and coolness. She wants to be perceived as young and cool – in spite of her baby.

How do you spell D-E-N-I-A-L ?

Doesn’t the need to be cool, to be perceived as an urban hipster get annoying, too?

I’m sure a lot of people perceive me as a typical Park Slope mom. But I am so much more detailed and interesting. Which isn’t to say that being a mom isn’t interesting. It’s just we’re all about so much more.

And some of us are cool moms.

When you first have a kid, your tiny little dumpling takes over all your thoughts like any life-changing, milestone experience would. They are more fascinating than anything else in your life because they are life just beginning. It’s miraculous and wonderful.

Over time you come back to your old life. Except it’s never the same; your life is forever changed. You can be hipster cool or anything else you wanna be.

Seems to me, the coolest people don’t worry about being cool all the time. And don’t worry so much about what group they are being identified with. If you’re a cool person you’ll be a cool person – mother or not.

Yesterday I came into the apartment at dusk with my friend Red Eft. All the lights were out. When I walked into the dining room, I saw what looked like a huge rat sitting on the dining room table.

My heart started to beat and I yelled for Red Eft, "What is that? What is IT?"  The rat was black with huge, sharp looking white teeth. It was truly disgusing.

Red Eft said, "It’s a rat but it’s not moving." At which point I ran into the kitchen and sort of danced around in a panic. I tried to get Hepcat’s attention by intercom because he was downstairs at the Third Street Cafe. Instead some guy from Fresh Direct was waiting at the downstair’s door.

Couldn’t reach Hepcat.

I peeked back out at the rat on the dining room table and it was still in the exact same spot. "It’s a very realistic looking plastic rat,"  Red Eft screamed. Still I couldn’t look at it, it was too disgusting.

Phobia of rats, anyone?

I got a large garbage bag in the kitchen and thrust it toward Red Eft who agreed to bag the rat.

I am going to kill Teen Spirit is what I was thinking. Somehow I knew it was him who’d bought the thing at a stoop sale. I haven’t a clue why he’d want it in the first place. It occurred to me that maybe someone had left it in our apartment as a prank, a nasty gesture.

But who would do that?

I was going to just toss the damn thing in the garbage but I decided to call Teen Spirit who was at a concert with friends.

"I found your friend, the rat. I’m going to throw it out. It’s disgusting," I said.
"Don’t throw my rat out," he said. "My mom wants to throw out my rat," he said to friends who were standing by. "You can’t do that. I bought it at a store."

"What kind of store?" I said.

"The stoop sale store…" he said.

And so it went. After I hung up with my rat-buying son, I decided to leave the rat in the black garbage bag in Teen Spirit’s room. But when OSFO and friends came upstairs they were fascinated by the disgusting thing and placed it in a strategic spot in Teen Spirit’s room.

"When he comes home he’s gonna be really surprised to see that rat sitting there," Red Eft’s nine year old son, a budding filmmaker, said: "I’m going to videotape his reaction."

Well, Teen Spirit slept over at his friend’s house. So we haven’t seen his reaction yet. Can’t wait.

This from NY1:

The Crown Princess cruise ship that rolled sharply to its side off the coast of Florida Tuesday arrived in Red Hook Saturday morning.

No passengers were on board. All had disembarked in Florida and found other ways home.

After the terrifying ride, the Coast Guard and the National Transportation Safety Board cleared the Crown Princess to sail.

Dozens of passengers were hurt in the incident, two critically.

The ship is expected to head back out to sea Saturday evening, bound for Grand Turk and Bermuda.

No word on what caused the ship to tilt to its side.

Our favorite houseguests, a family of four who live in upstate New York, are visiting. They moved away from Prospect Heights four-and-a half years ago and whenever they come to visit they stay with us.

Fun as it is to have them, there just isn’t enough room in our apartment to comfortably sleep them. They used to stay in the living room but we recently put up a partial wall in there so Hepcat can have an office. That means: a smaller living room.

Great solution: Remember those guinea pigs we’re taking care of. Their owner said we should just stay at her house. So last night, Hepcat and I went out for dinner with our friends and then walked over to our little brownstone away from home.

What a treat. Guinea pig friend has a  jacuzzi in her bedroom and I made a b-line for it when we got to the house last night.

There’s something about being in a place that is not home, a place where the clutter has nothing to do with you, that is so relaxing. It’s so easy to ignore.

Woke up this morning in someone else’s life. Washed my face at a lovely Kohler sink that is like a ceramic bowl. Sat in the quiet living room that overlooks the garden.

By 8:30 a.m., I felt compelled to return home. Stopped at Cousin John’s for croissants, danish and turnover. Everyone was up: the honored house guests were getting ready to take a walk in the old neighborhood. They like to take their kids to see where they lived when they were younger. My friend was bracing herself for seeing the construction site where the Richard Meier is going to be.

Lots of changes in the last four years in their old neighborhood. They don’t miss Brooklyn much: their new surroundings are quite spacious and pleasant. They certainly don’t miss nthe  noise, the fast speed of life, the garbage. But they do miss the people.

The Piper Theater, under the creative leadership of John McEneny (MS 51 drama czar) will perform Midsummer Night’s Dream and A Winter’s Tale on July 26 and 28 in JJ Byrne Park.

Piper was established in 2001 by
John and Rachel McEneny to develop arts and culture in the City of
Yonkers as a way to foster economic development, tourism, and an
enhanced quality of life.

Now in Season 6:  Piper has been invited to be part of Brooklyn at the Old Stone House in on 5th Avenue. Last week, professional adult actors performed a spirited and delightful production of Much Ado About Nothing.

This week, it’s the kid’s turn to wow the Park Slope audience. It should be inspiring for kids and adults alike.

Piper Theatre at the Old Stone House. Midsummer Night’s Dream
5 pm.  Free.

The Winter’s Tale
7 pm.  Free.

Concession by Stone Park Cafe

Twice a day the turtles, which are actually the size of a large bagel, need our attention: breakfast and dinnertime. We sprinkle various kinds of dry, fishy food into their tank. I don’t really know what it is but it stinks. They get very excited when we come downstairs. But all they want is their food. Then they get back to swimming around and playing together.

I forget their names. I think it’s Spotty and Stripes. Something like that. But it doesn’t really matter. They look alike and don’t answer when you call their names.

But boy do they lead a very active life in their big tank. They’re fast and graceful swimmers. Fun to watch swishing this way and that. And they’re so interesting to look at: they each have a bright red spot on their ears. Hepcat says that they’re called "Red Eared Turtles" but he’s not sure that turtles have ears (all of a sudden he’s a turtle expert).

He just told me that Red Eared Turtles are notorious for spreading Samonella. Great. He’s always such a bringer of good news. We never touch the water but boy will we ever avoid it now.

We must wash our hands after feeding them. We must wash our hands after feeding them.

Those turtles don’t seem to want attention from us. They do, however, follow us. If we’re on one side of the tank, they come to that side. It’s kinda cool.

This weekend we’re back on guinea pig duty. OSFO can barely wait. The guineas enjoy being petted and held. And she loves to pet their soft fur and hold them. When we get there, they’re usually hiding in their "furniture." Cool plastic shapes that look like they were made in the 1960’s. Very mid-century modern.

I forget their names, too. Furry and Softy or something like that.

It feels nice to be needed by those turtles. Twice a day, we pay a  visit, feed them, say good bye. They have a bright florescent light. We can’t decide if we should turn it off at night. When do they sleep. Do they need it to be dark in there?

Questions, questions. We are just learning to take care of turtles.

The Kravitzes went to the Red Hook Pool a few weeks ago and then went to the soccer field where they enjoyed excellent Mexican cuisine sold on food trucks. I see today that Gowanus Lounge has a guide to these delicious dining options.

Sure, there are dining options on Van Brunt Street in Red Hook. But for a real Red Hook treat, take thee to the Red Hook soccer fields. Maybe you’ve heard about the little gathering at the soccer fields at Clinton and Bay streets every weekend? Perhaps you’ve wandered past or driven by and wondered what all those little tents were about?

Well,
every weekend dozens of vendors set up these tents and they constitute
a virtual culinary tour of Central America. It may be New York City’s
most incredible and authentic street food experience, and one that you
probably won’t find replicated elsewhere. (We say "may be" and
"probably" only because we don’t know what other treats may lurk
somewhere else in Brooklyn or Queens or the Bronx about which we don’t
know.) Some of the weekend restaurants at the soccer fields have been
doing business in the same spot for years.

DON’T MISS: THE DESIGN COLLECTIVE’S BROOKLYN DESIGNER MARKET

10 AM to 6 PM:  At the Old Stone House (J.J. Byrne Park, 5th Ave.
between 3rd St. and 4th St., 718-768-3195), Park Slope’s first, indie
designer market will be showcasing Brooklyn’s hot, new, design stars
with a sale. The indoor, air-conditioned, market offers apparel,
handbags, jewelry, children’s clothing, accessories, and paper and
lifestyle goods.

Ran into a friend on the F-train this morning. We talked all the way to 59th Street (we both changed trains at Jay Street Boro Hall). She’s a journalist and we talked about her work, my work. It was a great way to pass the time. She told me two things I was glad to hear about. One: Park Slope new mom Amy Sohn, formerly New York Magazine’s sex columnist, ranted on her blog about Park Slope Stay-At-Home-Moms (SAHM). Needless to say, I was dying to read it.  My friend, who was a SAHM for eight years, said it was mean, mean, mean. Two: She also told me about her friend’s blog, Mr. Nice Guy. He’s a Stay-At-Home-Dad who is also a journalist. It’s a great blog and he’s part of a group called The Blogfathers.

What I didn’t know is that Mr. Nice Guy, on his blog, took Amy Sohn to task for her anti-SAHM rant. And boy, the sparks did fly. Here are some excerpt from Sohn’s piece and Mr. Nice Guy’s response.

AMY SOHN: Here in my neighborhood, Park
Slope, I am constantly encountering insane stay at home moms (SAHMs).
And I have come to the all too un-PC conclusion that stay-at-home
motherhood, despite the way our culture lionizes it, is bad for the
child and bad for the mom. And bad for society. It’s just plain bad.

MR. NICE GUY: hmm,
yes. our culture lionizes stay-at-home moms. simply adores them. gives
them health insurance and writes songs about them. and the moms i met
in the nine months i was a stay-at-home dad? totally insane. we’re
talking feces-throwing multiple personality-having batshit bananas.
clearly this is the beginning of a well-reasoned and researched,
articulate treatise on parenthood.

AMY SOHN: Most
of the SAHMs I know are really miserable. The working moms I know hate
their jobs and hate working but they’re not miserable in the kind of
extreme and neurotic, soul crippling, Zoloft inducing Yellow
Wallpaper-type way the SAHMs are.

MR. NICE GUY: let’s
stop here a moment and marvel. the moms i know–and boy do i know me
some moms–tend not to have crushed souls or zoloft-stocked medicine
cabinets. they, in fact, tend to be smart, rational, funny people who
are candid about the trade-offs of stay-at-home parenting. oh, also,
they actually like parenting. talk about crazy!

AMY SOHN: When
you spend all day with a baby you go a little crazy and I don’t think
the SAHMs realize how crazy they are. All these college-educated smart
women who once had opinions about things and read the newspaper now can
only talk about poop and pancakes with kale and Veggie Bootie and
natural Cheerios versus regular ones.

MR. NICE GUY: first of all, what’s
wrong with talking about poop? poop is funny. second of all, kale
pancakes? ca-ca-crazy! i’m starting to rethink my affinity for some of
these moms and start to hating on them too!

Read more at Mr. Nice Guy