About this author:
Dawn Yun is the mother of The Writing Mamas, which was born in 2004 at the famed bookstore Book Passage in Corte Madera, Calif. Dawn wrote the best-selling guide, "The Joy of Outlet Shopping," was a writer on the book, "Never Pay Retail" and authored the book, "Calming Crafts: New Crafts to Inspire Your Creativity." She blogs for the San Francisco Chronicle's http://www.sfgate.com, under City Brights. She has written for "Family Fun," "USA Today," "USA Weekend," "the San Francisco Chronicle," "Wine-X," "Manhattan, Inc.," "BabyCenter" and other off-line and on-line publications. She has appeared on "Oprah," "Good Morning America," "CBS This Morning," "Lifetime," "Discovery," and "Fox News."
August 18th, 2009
Just as one can be drawn to another in an electric way, a piece of sculpture had that same effect on me. It was African modern consisting of a father, mother and child in a circle of dance. Tall and sturdy, the stone thousands of years old in a palette colored mustard, cumin, black, white and gray.
Though pricey, I had to have it. I collected large, abstract paintings. This was my first sculpture.
When art speaks to you then you need to answer its call. The piece represented what I wanted most: my own family. I wanted to fall in love with a wonderful man and have his children. Together, I would create a new family. Continue… »
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July 14th, 2009
Ah, there is nothing like your first.
Your first kiss, your first article or book published, your first baby.
The Writing Mamas just spawned their second child.
She is a different version of our original Website. Its father was generous and sweet Michael, it’s midwife Avvy Mar, I added copy, a bit of code, and the rest of the members of The Writing Mamas provided their own beloved photos.
It was a labor of love.
This second labor took even longer than the first, about a year and a half. There was bedrest, a broken foot, then later a foot operation for me, writing assignments, a thriving Web business for Dilyara Breyer, our incredible Web designer, and a thousand activities and screaming children on a daily basis. At least it seems like that many kids and that many screams. Or our we just seeing things? We can hardly see anymore so it makes sense that we can barely notice two fingers in front of us. (Hello? Is someone there?)
We hope you’ll enjoy the new look and feel of our new baby. Our child is yours. (Think you can watch her on Saturday night?) Please send us your comments, ideas, etc.
We’ll be adding more features as the baby grows. She’s just in a onesie right now. But we have lots of pretty clothing that she will grow into.
Continue… »
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July 2nd, 2009
Just back from a concert. A ROCK CONCERT!!!! The first one since my daughter was born nearly eight years ago.
This is sad.
I wanted to be happy.
So I invited a bunch of friends to hear The Motels and Berlin at the Marin County Fair. It was my daughter’s first concert. She spent the nearly 1 1/2 hour Motels’ set draped across me as we sat on chairs under a big tent asking if it would soon end. I still managed to sing along to “Only the Lonely,” and danced and wiggled underneath my splayed daughter.
Look when a mother has to rock, she’s gotta rock. I was still doing my mother thing, but also my own thing.
I needed it.
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June 29th, 2009
First there was shock, then came the thought, “Who will take care of his children?”
That was what went through my head when I heard that Michael Jackson had died.
I immediately thought of the woman who bore his first two children and hoped it would not be her. She was paid to be a surrogate, gave up her rights and from what I’ve read about her would rather raise horses than those kids.
According to several news reports she said something that she certainly did not have to share. Not now during such a painful time for his children. She said that Michael was not their biological parent.
He was their father. They knew him as Dad. Fortunately, the children are with his mother and his family. Hopefully their nanny, who has helped raise them for most of their lives, will continue in that role.
There is something else about the death of Michael Jackson that has bothered me. My own guilt and judgment about him in life and the almost saintly quality I’ve given him now that he is gone.
Death does that. Bad memories often give away to good, and they are what remain.
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June 24th, 2009
My best friend, Amy, is visiting.
This coincided perfectly with my daughter, Mimi, seven, getting out of school. The two have been inseparable. It’s such a joy to listen and watch them interact. Amy doesn’t have children so she takes her responsibility of being a godmother and Mimi’s favorite “aunt” very seriously.
That means some hard core silliness, tickles, playing with stuffed animals, and chasing each other. Mimi will affectionately lay her head on Amy’s chest, while her aunt holds her close.
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June 22nd, 2009
Why is it that every day my daughter expects something new? From a stuffie (stuffed animal) to clothes to a piece of candy.
It is the something/anything syndrome.
I am trying to teach her that we are in a recession. Her pronunciation of it is difficult enough. Though it is the explanation that counts.
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June 19th, 2009
When it came time to chose godparents for my daughter I gave it careful thought. I wanted her to have two godparents and wanted them to be people she could always turn to as I had a sense — correct I might add — that my daughter and I would fight often because we would be so much alike.
We do and we are.
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June 18th, 2009
Ever since I took up the guitar about a year and a half a go I’ve skipped my mid-life crises because I’m so happy strumming.
Without dreams of fame or fortune just appreciation for making a D minor chord blend with its cousin, A minor. I feel transported.
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June 17th, 2009
School is out for summer!
School is out forever!
Well, no, not really. But it is over for me for the next two and a half days! Woo-woo-hoo-hoo!!!
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June 13th, 2009
The baby and toddler years will always be amongst my most memorable memories. It wasn’t easy finding a group of women who felt the same exact way I did about mommying.
We shared insecurities, secrets, tips, and truly gave each other what was left of us that we didn’t give to our children.
Then — something changed.
Continue… »
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Just as one can be drawn to another in an electric way, a piece of sculpture had that same effect on me. It was African modern consisting of a father, mother and child in a circle of dance. Tall and sturdy, the stone thousands of years old in a palette colored mustard, cumin, black, white and gray.
