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Author: Amy Sommer

We Are One

by | Apr 2, 2020 | Fret Deliveries, Fretless Foibles

We Are One

Stupidity is hard to tolerate under the best of circumstances. In today’s so-very-far-away-from-even-okay-times my tolerance for the idiotic is nonexistent. Stupidity is now lethal. Our Orange-in-Chief disbanded the White House’s pandemic response office, proposed brutalizing the CDC in Washington, slashed its staff in China. We’ve known that China is an unreliable reporter – their government is known to bend truth to their  preferred narrative – for decades. So, limiting travel from the world’s second largest economy made sense. Why follow that up by refusing to heed the wisdom of our intelligence agencies who telegraphed this scourge’s stateside arrival in late 2019?  Why was  politics once again allowed triumph over policy? Each imagined answer makes me seethe.  Stupidity is dangerous, when… READ MORE

Prescription Hope

by | Mar 23, 2020 | Fret Deliveries, Fretless Foibles, Parkinson's Disease

Prescription Hope

On November 5, 2015 – the anniversary of Guy Fawkes and his Catholic crew’s attempt to blow up the British Parliament in 1605 – my world was blown up with a diagnosis. “Could it be anything else?”
I asked the head of UCLA’s Movement Disorder Clinic “No, it’s Parkinson’s Disease,”  he replied. There was never denial – I’d known in my gut what science confirmed to my head that morning – but there were several steps required as I grew to accept my new neuro normal.  It’s an adjustment, a process – and, like so much of life, it’s okay for the most part. The sun still rises in the east, and my life continues  – only now it’s with a… READ MORE

Certainty

by | Mar 18, 2020 | Family Frets, Fret Deliveries, Fretless Foibles, Tween Troubles

Certainty

The dishes whir in the dishwasher, the sun retires from this hemisphere. My husband responds to emails, the children collude with their computers to complete work while the dogs nuzzle them.  I am alone in the spotless kitchen. I listen to the rain and debate what will sate my soul’s parched tongue. I claim this transitional hour, when day gives way to night’s quiet dark, as mine the quiet a reward for a cacophonous day. A cup of tea? A glass of wine? Either will do because neither is what I truly crave. It is certainty that is my fave. The sun will rise in the east and set in the west, of that I am sure. As for anything… READ MORE

Mom Time: Part Two

by | Feb 29, 2020 | Family Frets, Tween Troubles

Mom Time: Part Two

I love my children. I actually like them sometimes – at least often enough to keep me out of jail and them out of house arrest. Sometimes though, I have to rely on love alone and remind myself that motherhood is a blessing. Children are cute when they’re little and incapable of wiping their own ass. It’s Darwinian: even if expelled from the perfect derriere of your perfect progeny, poop stinks – and wiping it up for more than a few years can lead to insanity. Some children are capable of rudimentary self-care by age six. By the time they reach double digits, most can feed and bathe themselves. Thank God. What little sanity any parent retains after a decade… READ MORE

Mom Time: Part One

by | Feb 29, 2020 | Family Frets, Tween Troubles

Mom Time: Part One

]There are many roads to the Mecca of motherhood. All are bumpy.  All lead to the rollercoaster of emotions that is parenthood. The blessed and life-affirming firsts; baby’s first step, first tooth, first love and its inevitable denouement. Then there are the less savory firsts …. first time they lie, their first speeding ticket…. the firsts I hope I never know, though I doubt I will be spared.  I’m told that the ride smooths out usually… at some point. Some point soon I pray. I took three paths to motherhood.   My oldest son, aka My Souvenir Gift Item, is so nicknamed because he was my stepson but, when I divorced his father, I was blessed to keep him in the… READ MORE

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