28
Nov
Nov
When my precise – he died eight months to the day after his cancer was diagnosed – and extraordinary father was dying he said that he didn’t mind dying so much, but that knowing when was troublesome.
Category Archives: Family Frets
25
Jan
Jan
Take 10,000 steps. Daily. Lose 5, 10, 20 – a million pounds. The usual suspects line up like children waiting to be picked for a team. Go to the gym. Clean. Read more. “Doomscroll” less Waiting, like lambs to the slaughter. Find the patience to teach other family members to do the same. Organize my…….
22
Dec
Dec
God is the glue that connects us. She/He/It is the whisper in our heads imploring us to be better, to do better – to strive for excellence, to walk the path of our higher, best self. God is in the ephemeral breeze that cools, a laugh shared with a stranger, a friend’s encouraging text on…
03
Jun
Jun
I do not have the children I expected. They’re like me in ways I wish they weren’t. They express traits of their father’s that are not amongst my favorites. But, on some days I can see the best of myself and my spouse shimmer within them. I treasure those days. Even then, when I am…
11
May
May
“It’s been 30 years, “he said turning the page in his calendar. “30 years …” his voice trails off into the purgatory of what might’ve been. Parents are not meant to survive their children. And yet there are many who exist in this backward world, having outlived those who should be our legacy. Life’s natural rhythm…
24
Mar
Mar
How is a life remembered? Which stories seal our fate? I forget more stories than I care to admit. The more time that passes, the more stories accumulate, making more for me to forget. Which shall I memorialize? Which should I tell you? Do I recall the ones where I am the hero who saves…
05
Jan
Jan
No one has talked tree since Turkey Day. But the calendar has turned to December so a tree we must buy. I pine for the smell of pine. I miss the imperfect bit of nature, imperfectly grown and decorate that lights up a corner of our family room – and our family. “Where is the…
05
Jan
Jan
COVID coping mechanisms are copious chez moi. Compulsive cleaning is among the more productive of our pandemic proclivities – one that has revealed actual floor space in our basement. But it is space that reopens an old wound. “Do not even think of asking me to put that monstrosity together,” my husband admonishes, pointing his…
30
Jul
Jul
I am not a demonstrative person by nature. And yet… I want to French Kiss strangers, lick handrails and discard my mask. I am done with hand sanitizer, socially distant outside dining and doing my own nails. I hate COVID-19. I weep in frustration about this pandemic-imposed reality. I weep when this killer plague’s statistics…
15
Apr
Apr
“Dad, I said I was ‘sorry.’ Can you please just spank me now?” pleads my daughter with the overwrought exasperation that only a quarantined 16-year-old can muster. Family Court is in session – and will be 24/7 for at least the next month or two. Or more likely three. At least. We’re here all day…
18
Mar
Mar
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…
29
Feb
Feb
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…
29
Feb
Feb
]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…
06
Feb
Feb
“Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these, ‘it might have been’.” Sadness that you no longer walk upon this earth washes over me. When I’m driving a familiar route or moving through mundane tasks, my conscious mind finds room to wander, and there you are. What might’ve been, what should…
21
Dec
Dec
Sometime between washing the last pan and the first dollop of the leftover Thanksgiving stuffing, our thoughts turn from gluttony to gifting. Whether your tradition deems the verdant branches a Christmas Tree or a Chanukah Bush, let’s stipulate—for the purposes of this story–that a pine-smelling plant is the perfect antidote to winter’s dark chill. My…
14
Dec
Dec
You are not as privileged as I. I was born on third base – you must hit a triple to join me. Nevertheless, you are blessed. You have two parents who care about you. This alone puts you ahead of the game in our troubled world. And thanks to said parents’ foresight and your hard-work…
06
Dec
Dec
I am at the wedding reception of my husband’s friend. I know a few guests, none well. The catering is superb. While my husband catches up with friends, I delight in dining solo. We smile at each other, content in our parallel party paths. As I stand outside — literally (it is an indoor/outdoor event)…
03
Nov
Nov
“I don’t think that you enjoy anything until you’re good at it,” says one of my oldest friends, trying to entice me to move out of the children’s ski area. It is the spring of 2000, that sweet spot in the aughts. The fears about the turn of the new century have fizzled and September…
01
Sep
Sep
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…
29
May
May
Yet another thing I hold against Donald Trump: he has raised the level of how people view narcissism to such a degree that it’s hard to recognize, let alone acknowledge, a garden variety narcissistic personality-disordered human. “Sloane is such a self-involved, narcissistic bitch,” I complain to Eleanor about a mutual, childhood friend. “Really? Narcissistic?” “Textbook.”…
13
May
May
I am happy because my home is solid and my kids… well, they’re here and kinda solid too. I am happy to have learned from my many mistakes and hope that this hard-earned knowledge will spare others pain. I am happy that I have Parkinson’s Disease instead of Multiple Sclerosis which I admit seems like…
12
May
May
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,…
30
Apr
Apr
“If you’ve got your health, you’ve got everything.” Well, then, I am lacking. I am afflicted. But so are many. My conditions are my constant companions. They’ll shuffle along this mortal coil with me for as long as I shuffle along upon it. But there is a gift in my conditional state: my chronic ailments…
27
Mar
Mar
Like all Angelenos, I spend a lot of time in my car. When not chauffeuring children hither and yon, I’m driving myself back from their activities and to my own. When in the car solo, I enjoy thoughtful, talk radio; thank heavens for KPCC.org. I also enjoy making phone calls in the private bubble of…
17
Mar
Mar
There is no challenge that duct tape can’t overcome in the right hands. My husband has such hands. There is a pesky, Parkie peculiarity pertaining to stairs. Specifically–walking down them. When I look down, I see the step as if I’m wearing reading glasses and looking at a distant object. The challenge is heightened when…
15
Mar
Mar
Off the cuff. By the seat of your pants. Just wing it. Impromptu. It’ll work out. Don’t sweat the details. Everything is going to be okay. The mere act of typing these phrases nauseates me. I plan. God chuckles. I plan again. God snickers. No plan survives contact with the enemy. Mine makes the first…
07
Mar
Mar
Cleanliness is next to Godliness. And when this drought-conscious Californian vacations in a state with ample water, the showers are long and luxurious. I revel in this watery heaven enveloped in lavender steam with warm water pouring down from a rain-shower head. But these indulgences have consequences: annoying droplets of water that worm their way…
27
Feb
Feb
“I love you more.” “No, I do, mommy.” “Nope, it’s settled. I do.” “Okay, well, maybe,” my 10-year-old mutters as his sleepy eyes close. “Good night,” I whisper as I turn out the light and turn to exit. THUMP! He stirs. “Mom, are you okay?” “Maybe,” I reply, wincing from my knee-banging stumble over errant,…
26
Feb
Feb
The ‘must do’ nature of homework sometimes gives us strong-willed sorts pause. If it’s too easy, e.g. Spanish, it’s a waste of time. Too challenging, a longer essay, say, in English… possibly with the Odyssey as its subject… well, then the Frustration Monster and her bestie, Anxiety, rear their raging, irrational heads. “You’re not helping….
06
Feb
Feb
“Mom, let’s go!” Let’s not. I think I’ll stay put. I’m going to take a hard pass on greeting the day. I like my bathroom. It’s nice in here. My lap top and phone batteries are fully charged, there are plenty of towels to cushion the stone floor. These inanimate objects are my true friends….
11
Nov
Nov
My father died 41 years ago in October. He was good and died young. He was 57. I was 12. When a child loses a parent at such a young age, she must make choices. There are so many milestones, so much history that would’ve been written together but instead must be filled in with…
01
Oct
Oct
I should tell you the stories of how proud you make me. How you make others smile, of your deft Instagram touch. Of the way you chronicle ‘car dancing’ – and your grace in not posting it on Snap Chat. Like you – and everyone in your generation – post every other aspect of your…
13
Apr
Apr
Love is the thread that tethers me to my children. And husband. Like is just not strong enough. Not tonight. Not on rushed, late-for-school mornings or at doctor’s appointments where needles are needed. Love is the thread that pulls me to make the appointments, to hustle us out the door, to set limits. Love loves…
09
Apr
Apr
There is a “law” in the semi-conductor industry that semiconductor speed — since extrapolated to knowledge — will double every 18 months. True. The technology in my phone exponentially trumps the semiconductor speed and knowledge that originally sent man to the moon. Extraordinary… Frightening? Inspiring. So, why do mothers everywhere, across generations commiserate about the…
25
Feb
Feb
Life is precious. Life is good. And it’s fragile. Our dumb yet wise, kind yet crass, vulgar yet graceful mutt, Bruno, suffered a massive stroke last month while we were on vacation in Cancun. We are blessed that friends who love him were with him as the vet gently shuffled him off this mortal coil….
28
Jan
Jan
“Excuse me sir.” “Yes.” “I think there’s been a mistake.” “Oh?” “Yes. You forgot to charge us for the Arnold Palmers.” The waiter took the check from my hand, “Oh I did. Oh ma’am, oh thank you so much.” “I cannot tell a lie.” “I know, mom.” “I would’ve asked him to correct the bill…
24
Jan
Jan
How does anyone know anything? With cries of fake news and opinions rechristened as facts, how does anyone know anything? “Did you know that there is an animal called a kaka?” “Huh? No.” “Seriously, this game I’m playing said so. I typed in k-a-k-a and it said that it’s an animal.” That was also almost the cause of an accident, so…
17
Jan
Jan
I can think of no one less temperamentally suited to driving a sports car than I. And yet there I was on Sunset Blvd in rush hour traffic, ‘leading’ a pack of cars – most of whom seemed to salute my speed with their middle finger. I drive like a grandmother. And if you don’t…
09
Dec
Dec
Every time one of us walks out the front door there is a chance that we won’t return through it. And yet we go about our day assuming that we will. But what if the thin thread that holds all of this together were to unravel? I’d hate for my daughter’s inheritance to be an…
13
Nov
Nov
“The lipstick you were wearing yesterday wasn’t right.” “I wasn’t wearing any.” “Well, that’s the problem. Here. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a gold tube emerge from her purse. “Try this one, it’ll work better on you than it does on me.” My concentration broken, I look up from the computer…
17
Oct
Oct
My Happy List When I read a perfectly crafted sentence and discover I wrote it. When Waze doesn’t tell me to take an unprotected left turn. When my 13 -year-old daughter applies sunscreen without a fight. When my dog assumes Downward Dog. When my eldest is polite and honorable reflexively. When my Chanel has a…
27
Sep
Sep
Maternal love is a constant tension between caring and its opposite. “Choose your battles wisely,” my friends and I remind ourselves and each other. But in the moment, it is so very hard to make any choice let alone a wise one. What to let slide? “I don’t care what you wear to Joan’s party.”…
22
Sep
Sep
I work at a church part time. I see them. All of them sad. Sometimes they’re mad too. At God for taking their beloved. At the injustice of the Universe. At the audacity of the sun to keep rising and setting despite their loss. They rage against the dying of their loved one’s light. They’re…
16
Sep
Sep
Why are there few things as satisfying as Fruit Ninja? Why can’t my hair look like I just walked out of Drybar every morning of my life? Why does Chardonnay have more calories than Diet Coke? Why does inspiration strike when I don’t have time to write? Why can’t my daughter just trust that I…
06
Jul
Jul
Sleep is the new sex. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no prude. I like sex. It’s a good thing. But the blessed abundance of my full and fulfilling life is exhausting. So many roles: wife, mother, friend, employee, writer. So few hours in the day. I love sleep. Luscious, indulgent, glorious sleep. I also love…
22
Jun
Jun
“You have to get back on a schedule.” “Uh, huh,” said my chipmunk-cheeked 13-year-old. “It’s still a time to learn,” I replied, knowing her sass was confirmation that her mouth was healing well. “Uh, nah.” “Yes, it is. Life is for learning!” “Uh, nah.” It was then that I knew my daughter was fully recovered…
21
Jun
Jun
My daughter is fierce. My daughter is not a morning person. Most school and camp activities start between 8-9am. These three facts come into conflict in my house every weekday. The drama involved in waking my daughter often sets a … shall we say… less than positive tone for the day. The raising of the…
18
Jun
Jun
I grew up in New York City and believe nature is out to kill us. Seriously. As a native New Yorker, I grew adept at quickly judging (and prejudging) the naked apes around me and could assess who was a danger and who could simply be one to saunter past. For my 25 years in…
11
Jun
Jun
The word count on my novel is too low. The number on the scale too high. Nevertheless, I went. It was the first time I’d returned to the campus where so much of who I am today incubated. I went to my first college reunion. The 30th was the charm. Why so long? In retrospect,…
20
Apr
Apr
“I don’t want to go to school today,” said my eight-year-old as I nudged him into consciousness. “Why?” “These,” he said pointing to the prescription glasses we’d picked up the afternoon before. “There are other kids with glasses in your class.” “So.” “Well, you’re going to have to wear them at school someday. Might as…
24
Mar
Mar
“Even if I got into an Ivy League school, I wouldn’t want to go.” Said my thirteen-year old casually wiping out a decade of my life. We were driving and I had ‘oh so casually’ brought up the subject of the ISEE, the Independent School Entrance Exam she will have to take this fall. My…
13
Mar
Mar
Tongue and eggs. Even 40 years later I remember my father’s favorite delicatessen order. “Was this how he liked them?” My daughter, who knows the story, asks. A wistful nostalgia for what might’ve been fills my chest as I answer, “Not quite, a little less raw.” There is a belief in Judaism that talking about…
18
Dec
Dec
We are a sisterhood of mothers. We fight. For our village. Against our own demons. For all children. We fight glass ceilings and preconceived notions We fight to show you the best part of yourself. We teach you to fight, “go talk to your gym teacher and demand to throw the same weight shotput…
10
Dec
Dec
I had a vision for my life. Perfection of the sort seen on big screens and small greeting cards everywhere. I had a vision of my life – and then I lived it. The white picket fence with the blended family of four – two steps, two bios — all living happily together, memorialized in…
27
Nov
Nov
I was toweling off my then five-year old son after his shower and thought I saw an odd, discolored patch on his penis. Apparently, he noticed my eyes’ focus fall from his face to the part of his anatomy that will, likely, come to rule him. “Mom, I’ve had that for a long time. Since…
12
Nov
Nov
I was wrong. Turns out that that young onset Parkinson’s Disease starts at 50 not 40. That explains why the medical community hasn’t jumped at the chance to use the term ‘Precocious Onset Parkinson’s Disease’. On the plus side, at least ‘young’ is a descriptor that I can still claim on one front. I’ve been…
22
Oct
Oct
At a recent school meeting our headmaster reported that he’d apologized to the older students for the tenor of this presidential campaign. Unable to use this race as a teachable moment — like normal elections — he’d told the children that adults had failed them – and urged the assembled adolescents to do better. He’s…
14
Oct
Oct
I write for readers. I write in the hope that my private truth might enlighten another’s path. And, if I hit my stride, maybe even ease their burden. I write because I am a writer. I write because the page is my onramp to the highway of this life. I write to know myself. I write…
14
Oct
Oct
“That’s a pretty necklace,” I said to a random woman with a lovely heart pendant who I passed on a bathroom run. “Thank you,” she replied with a smile. And the intersection of our lives was over. I ‘practice’ yoga as much as the next privileged gal in search of a stretch. I think kind…
07
Oct
Oct
“…becoming insolvent or bankrupt” is a definition of failure per Dictionary.com. Our two party political system has failed. We are in the tail end of a presidential campaign between two candidates with the highest unfavorables in history. The resulting negative campaign has been a horror to watch. I read the news as if driving by a car accident…
25
Sep
Sep
I am fifteen… and I am lost. Rudderless. I wheeze a lot. I run slowly but I make it around the track. My friends are older, making me feel unjustifiably wiser. Smart, but sometimes unwilling to grind out the steps necessary for that coveted ‘A’. I sought attention from those whose eyes I should’ve averted….
20
Sep
Sep
“To the left, to the left, everything you own in a box to the left,” my bundle of fierceness and I sang together on the way to school this morning. I could hear my eight year-old rolling his eyes in the back seat. Yes, the satellite radio is back – it took a vacation for…
22
Aug
Aug
I am a failure. My kids turn to the gadget I use to read to watch. I am a failure. My kids are not avid readers. They do not use this device to read multiple books and newspapers simultaneously, but to watch. They binge on Netflix and Pokémon. I am a failure. I am raising…
15
Jul
Jul
There is an age-old pact between parents and children whereby parents embarrass their children while the little buggers try to kill us. I’m very comfortable embarrassing myself. This is good as my children are exceptionally good at trying to drive me into an early grave. My tween constantly – and with great conviction – tells…
12
Jul
Jul
It’s been said that one of George Stephanopoulos’ most important and challenging tasks when he worked as a senior adviser for Bill Clinton was to absorb Bill’s ‘Blue Rage’ every morning. I have rage. Sometimes my rage grows so hot that it too is blue. I don’t have a senior policy advisor or anyone whose…
16
Jun
Jun
“I know what The ‘P’ word is,” my eight year-old announced the other night “Really? Which one?” I asked, an eyebrow arched. “Can I say it?” He asked with an impish smile. I am compelled to mention here that many in my son’s class are second and third children. “Pussy.” He blushed and waited for…
13
Jun
Jun
In my youth I dreamed of growing boobs – now I dream of they’re growing smaller. Miraculously smaller… and perkier. The way I wish the rest of me would shrink without changes in my diet. Magical calorie thinking works in your teens… sometimes even through early adulthood. But once you hit 40, metabolism’s reality hits….
19
May
May
Another year, another Field Day. So off I went to my children’s school. I watched my son for about an hour in the morning then went to a work meeting, returning in the afternoon to watch my daughter. “I did it in 3:18 this year,” she said by way of greeting. “That’s good,” I replied encouragement…
26
Apr
Apr
I am your mother. I am here to hear you so that you’ll know that yours is a voice worthy of being heard. Don’t interrupt, but don’t let this world silence your roar. You are fierce and have a platform from which I hope you can heal some of the gaping wounds of this world….
14
Mar
Mar
If I had my life to live over again, I would do it with 20/20 hindsight and correct every mistake. Naturally, this would result in the perfect version of me. My vision of my perfect self is ephemeral but glorious in her haziness. I would’ve paid more attention in school to the courses I…
29
Jan
Jan
I am full, buzzed and lying naked in the middle of a king-sized bed. I make snow angels on the soft white sheets. I am in bliss. I love my family truly, deeply, madly. I love them more as I write these words because I am about 400 miles away from them. For me, absence…
08
Jan
Jan
There are about two male doctors for every female MD in the USA. And yet most XYs won’t visit these professionals without pressure – either inside their chest… or on their metaphorical posterior. Why? Because there is something on the Y chromosome that compels men to throw common sense to the wind when it comes…
05
Nov
Nov
I returned from a school meeting around 8 pm the other night. As I walked upstairs I saw the eerie light of a digital screen peeking out from under my daughter’s bedroom door. I opened my tween’s door. “I was listening to music,” she said while unplugging her head phones. “You have an iPod Nano…
02
Nov
Nov
I wake up early every morning to enjoy the quiet of the house before the family rises. My dogs and I head downstairs — after I’ve taken my Synthroid with the requisite eight ounces of water. I open the backdoor releasing ‘the hounds’ to their ‘exterior toilet’ hoping to simultaneously breathe in cool, consciousness-inspiring morning…
28
Oct
Oct
Halloween rivals birthdays as the best day of a child’s celebratory calendar. My children spend hours debating costume options, [My thoughts on why most are nixed are here] and plotting where to trick-or-treat so that they end the evening with more candy than any human should ingest in a year. For those of us charged…
01
Oct
Oct
My daughter just informed me that my efforts at being a successful mom were for naught. Then she walked off in a huff. This occurred after her homework was almost complete, yet 45 minutes before her bedtime. She had plenty of time to enumerate my failings – which she did for about 20 minutes before…
28
Sep
Sep
School is in full swing. My kids are near other tykes for eight plus hours a day – it’s glorious – except for the thoughts of cooties and boogers that dance in my maternal head. What if my kid gets sick and has to stay home? Not only will they fall behind in their schoolwork…
24
Sep
Sep
Staples aired a great commercial in August and September. As an adult male dances through the store’s aisle gathering school supplies, Andy William’s Christmas classic, “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” plays. Genius. By the time the September rolls around I, for one, am done with attending to my children’s needs, trying repeatedly…
17
Sep
Sep
A recent “Last Week Tonight” with John Oliver highlighted the lack of standards for teaching our children about their bodies and how our species reproduces. Yes, it’s true that while parents, teachers, politicians and others debate the Common Core, no one is talking about the lack of standardization amongst various sex education curricula. We use…
10
Sep
Sep
Sadly, for my listening and opining pleasure, music tastes change. “Kids’ Place Live,” “is for little kids,” both my ‘older’ kids grumble should I dare select the station when we’re driving together — a forced intimacy that will remain a constant for at least a few more years. Sadly, driving in silence isn’t going to…
05
Sep
Sep
When my daughter was younger and she allowed “Kids’ Place Live” in the car, I would always turn up the volume when Jonathan Coulton’s “The Princess Who Saved Herself” or Robbie Schaefer’s “Fits Right In” came on because I wanted to raise a fierce daughter. And, while readers know there are times that I lament…
19
Aug
Aug
When I was pregnant with my daughter, a wise nurse-educator told me that having a child was the most intellectually stimulating undertaking around if you have even a modicum of curiosity. I do so wish I could remember her name – I’d like to thank her. Watching these cute, helpless little blobs evolve through the…
15
Jun
Jun
Because I’ve set strict boundaries, my lovely housekeeper was opening a package addressed to me – with my daughter nearby – when I came into the kitchen. As my housekeeper pulled a glass out from the box, I muttered that the friend (she goes by the pseudonym Elinor on this blog) who’d sent the early birthday present mentioned that…
08
Jun
Jun
When we last ‘spoke’ I had finished an entire mug of coffee and was lounging in my bed, having successfully repressed my inclination to volunteer as a Room Parent for my daughter’s class. Well… sometimes, if you’re already known as a ‘Yes Woman’, your hand is forced – especially if you’re close friends include other,…
01
Jun
Jun
I’m two weeks post carnival. I’ve written 50 ‘thank you’ notes on behalf of my harder-working-than-I co-chairs – We really meant what I said in the notes; we are grateful to all of the ‘department heads’. Whether you did it how we would’ve or not, each of you rocked your duties. Thank you – and attended several ‘wrap up’…
26
May
May
Having children means having fears. Some are rational, some are wacky and most parental fears will turn all-consuming at one point or another. But sadly, most parental fretting does no good at all because often the thing you fear is merely a distraction from what is really waiting in the wings to bite you in…
22
May
May
The only rain that my drought-stricken state has seen of late occurred intermittently in the two days before the OUTDOOR (lest you have forgotten) event I was co-chairing. During these two, soggy days we were setting up the rides and decorating the grounds, of course. Is everything I do destined to be tinged with irony?…
14
May
May
California is experiencing a serious, dangerous, lifestyle-threatening drought. So, like any good Angelino, I do a happy dance every time rain is forecast. I Tweet odes to the wet stuff and take the kids out to play in this sad novelty known as precipitation. I long to finally ‘break in’ my rain gear even though…
08
May
May
There comes a time in the lives of most mothers with elementary school children – especially those in private school – where one is compelled to take on a big, volunteer project for reasons that will escape said parent during the course of planning whatever they’ve agreed to chair. Currently, I am that parent and…
05
May
May
My children will never be world-class athletes. I know this. Because, if either (or both) of them were truly a gifted athlete, that sparkle would’ve shown through by now even though they’re eleven and seven. Sure, there are the outliers like Misty Copeland who didn’t grace ballet until she was 13, but these ‘late bloomers’ are the exception…
02
May
May
“No woman is ever happy with her boobs or her hair,” observed a friend of mine as we tried on t-shirts advertising an upcoming event we’re working on together. And she’s right. Those with curly hair want it straight. As my Drybar stylist noted when I went last… okay, earlier today, “If a woman walks in with…
08
Apr
Apr
Judaism requires that we bury our dead within 48 hours of their passing. This is followed by a week of intense mourning called shiva, Hebrew for ‘seven’. After these nine days, ‘normal’ life is supposed to resume for those who were close to the deceased. This reminds me once again that my practical tribe started in the desert and is…
01
Apr
Apr
On a recent evening, I allowed my children to bunk together after their sustained begging wore me down. My son told my daughter that he didn’t want me to come check on them after I said ‘goodnight’. “Why doesn’t he want me to check on you guys? I’ve already consented to your sleeping in your room together,” I asked my…
26
Mar
Mar
There are days when I don’t like being a mother. There, I said it. Shh… I don’t think that any of us who raise children are supposed to say it out loud. But there it is in black and white – I don’t like my maternal role 24/7. Does this make me a bad mother?…
14
Mar
Mar
A couple of years ago, my mother and I were escorting my then-kindergarten daughter to the car after her ‘Winter Concert’ (concerts are supposed to be melodious… thus the quotation marks around the mention of this event) when a skirmish over how to help my child develop healthy self esteem occurred. “Honey,” I said to…
03
Mar
Mar
On a beautiful Sunday for which our Southern California environs are famous, my family and I were lucky enough to enjoy a postcard-worthy-beach-afternoon at a private club. Our dear friends, friends and acquaintances were all gathered for a lazy afternoon – our kids happily frolicking together while we sipped Chardonnay. Life was good. Two…
24
Feb
Feb
I just read the ‘welcome back from mid-winter break’ email from my daughter’s room mom – one of the many volunteer ‘opportunities’ at my children’s school – which started off with, “Trust you had a wonderful, relaxing and renewing break,” before going on to list reminders for the week. My break was neither relaxing nor…
19
Jan
Jan
I have an adult, non-biological son. I refer to him as my souvenir gift item because in an arrangement that is unusual even in Los Angeles, he is a memento from my first marriage. I took him in the divorce. Yes, you got it; he was my stepson while I was married to his father and now…
12
Jan
Jan
I know of parents who don’t want their children to exceed their accomplishments. These people confound me. I don’t get narcissistic, parent-child competition – I don’t have enough of an aura to go around for myself on most days, let alone enough to make my progeny sparkle in my shadow. I am so intent on my children…
27
Oct
Oct
I was skimming websites and catalogues in search of a Halloween costume for my 10-year-old daughter earlier this month. When I complained that even the ‘doctor’ costume is suggestive my husband told me that I should just add the word ‘whore’ to every costume description leaving me to contemplate various choices such as “Angel-Whore”, “Nurse-Whore”, “Waitress-Whore”, “Teacher-Whore”. If…
13
Feb
Feb
As I do most mornings, I drove both my children to their school today. First, we dropped off my daughter at a crowded but surprisingly polite corner where three schools disgorge children daily. The crossing guard is lovely, protective and always waves. One kid down – and I don’t mean literally – so all was…
20
Jan
Jan
“They break their hip and then they die.” This is the mantra of fear that runs through my head each time I walk with my 84 year-old mother. My doctor friends tell me that there are scientific studies to back up my neurosis, which reassures me, as I am truly neurotic about older folks walking…