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Category: Tween Troubles

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Certainty

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

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

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

Crazy?!

Crazy?!

I am losing my mind. Am I’m losing it to my Parkinson’s Disease?  To age? To maladies yet to be diagnosed? I stare into space, trying desperately to remember what was right there, right there, on the tip of my tongue just moments ago. Then it hits me: I have children. It’s not the Parkinson’s Disease.  Nor age, nor my blessedly over-committed life. No, it’s those plotting little hellions, the Teen and Tween, who separately and together are intent on exacting my mother’s revenge. It’s my hell spawn who are driving me bonkers. Their ability to jump up and down on my very last nerve is masterful. If only they would channel this genius to their studies, they’d be the… READ MORE

It Takes a Coven

It Takes a Coven

It’s said that doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results is a definition of insanity. But it’s also widely acknowledged that, because randomness makes children feel unsafe, routine is essential to the task of parenting. And, naturally, it’s not a routine unless it’s repeated. Regularly. I routinely ask – nay, beg – my children to clean up after themselves, wear sunblock, brush their teeth, hair, sometimes the dog. I regularly remind them, ever so gently of course, to complete, double check, maybe even attempt the extra credit work on their assignments. I ask them to organize their rooms, their homework sometimes even their thoughts. And each time, I hope against hope that one or both… READ MORE

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