Technically, I am a millennial. I was born in 1980 so by definition, you can group me into that generation. I don’t feel millennial. A very honest man I know, upon hearing this fact, said, “Well, then you are the world’s oldest millennial.” And that is a label that probably rings truer for me than the former. I didn’t have a cell phone until well into college. I didn’t get on Facebook until it was no longer cool. I do take enough selfies to be a milennial though. With my friends and with my kids and with my husband. I have a very full album of selfies on my iPhone.
I am a judgmental bitch.
I wasn’t always this way. There was a long time where I was consciously open-minded. I made efforts to always assume a person was doing the best they could with what they had at any given moment. As a teacher and an administrator, I gave parents the benefit of the doubt as I believed that they loved their child and were trying to be the best kind of parent they knew how. I worked at this practice. I worked at being empathic and compassionate and I felt good about those things.
When I became a mom however, that changed. Continue reading
I have always loved politics, and not just for the good reasons, e.g. the way our elections shape our laws, our society and our future, but also for the sport of it. I like watching people. I like learning how they work, what makes them tick, and following politics is essentially a pseudo intellectual version of mall people-watching . You see how people want themselves to be seen, and then you see the basest version of those same people as mud gets slung and punches get hurled. (So maybe more like the mall at Christmas time.) It is fascinating and gory and entertaining all at once.
This election has been different. I thought this election would be different because historically and personally, it is incredibly exciting to watch a woman run for President. And in that aspect I am excited and hopeful. But all in all, this election hasn’t been much fun. It has felt sad and toxic and scary. And maybe that’s because I am a parent now and maybe it’s because there are so many important issues that hang in the balance of this election. It is probably both of those. But also, it is because of Donald Trump. Continue reading
7 am: I’m going to make a great dinner for my family tonight. My hubby’s been working so hard and the boys have been so hungry at the end of the day; I’m going to really make them something great. Healthy, but so delicious the kids will love it anyway and everyone will push their chair away from the table at dinner’s end and just FEEL the love I poured onto their plates.
9 am: So many great recipes in these cookbooks! I should use a good old-fashioned book more. Forget the internet. The turn of a page. That’s what it’s about. Hmm…why is this sticky? Is that ketchup? Gross. I don’t think that’s ketchup. What IS that? I’ll google it. And I’ll google a chicken recipe.
12 pm: Shoot. I forgot to defrost the chicken. Better get to the market. Continue reading
I was one of the last great believers in Santa Claus, simply because my parents said it was true and I didn’t have the desire to disprove them. Fat old man in red suit brings us the presents you’ve been “hiding” in your room in plain sight, mom? To a half Jewish, half Buddhist family? Great! If I leave my dirty tooth under my pillow, I’ll find money from a full-grown adult fairy who collects them? Fantastic! Those mean kids are “just jealous” and it’s not because I still play with my Barbies in 7th grade and sleep in my mom’s bed? Makes perfect sense!
With this in mind then, you’ll surely understand that when I asked my mom my very favorite question to ask her, and she gave me her very reasonable and fair answer, I absolutely believed her:
“Mommy, who is your favorite?”
“Honey, I don’t have a favorite. I love you all equally!”
Roses and sunshine ensue. Beautifully put, mom! Even though my brother is your only son and your firstborn, and my sister is the baby of the family by nearly 8 years and the one we always called your “miracle”, you are such a dedicated mom that you see that my worth as a middle child is exactly equal to that of my siblings. Huzzah!
I would probably have still believed this 30 years later, and happily so. I bought it after I had my first child, no easy baby by any means, but heaven help the brave and stupid individual who called him anything less than an angel. Continue reading
It is safe to say that I have shirked my blog of late. It is not the only, nor the most important, of the “duties” I have been putting off in the last 3 or so months. Without boring you with the exhaustive list, we will just say that my conditioner does not need to be replaced as often as it once did, and when my doorbell rings, regardless of the time of day, my 1-year old screams, “Pizza!” and gleefully runs to the door to accept dinner. (In fairness to me, he is only right about 80 percent of the time.) Sometimes I think I am lazy. Sometimes I think I am busy and overwhelmed. Really though, as my new physical form would tell any interested onlooker, in case they hadn’t yet heard my 3-year-old announce how HUGE his mommy’s belly is and how many babies she is holding in it, I chalk it up to this: I am pregnant. (With one baby. Just one. My belly is just kind of big and my kid is just kind of mean.) Continue reading
We’re still working out some kinks…
1). What method of guidance is used in your home?
2). Please list any behavior issues or unique needs that you feel we should be aware of?
He is three. As in, THREE.
3). Briefly describe your child’s personality?
Mercurial. But cute.
4). Does child cry easily? If yes, what soothes your child?
5). Are there any particular routines that are helpful at nap or rest time?
Pray. Duck. Cover.
6). Does child have any special fears of which you are aware? Please describe.
Sleep. Rules. Ketchup shortages.
I see public school in our future.
May you quickly feel the peace of sleep.
Like in under 45 minutes because The Real Housewives of New York is on tonight, and Luann has lost her shizz and I can’t miss that.
May all your dreams be sweet ones.
Because if you tell me one more time there is a monster in your room at 4 am, I am going to take Sully and Mike Wazowski out back and kick their furry asses. As I told you at 8:00, and 8:30, and 9:15, this is a monster-free zone. Mommy won’t let you have a dog or a kitty so she certainly isn’t letting a stinky, hairy monster live here.
May you feel warm and cozy as you rest your sweet heads.
So please don’t pee through your diaper. And if you do, please be so tired that you don’t notice. Because the only thing worse than scaring away the monsters at 4 am is changing the damn sheets in a crib.
As you sleep, may you grow in body and mind and soul.
One suggestion for an area of growth? Telling time. Please learn how to tell time and please believe me when I say that 5 am is not morning. It is indecent to call it morning and it will make the people around you hate you. At least until their second cup of coffee.
May the stars and moon watch over you and keep you safe until the sun comes back out to play.
But please know that I mean that figuratively. Because when you peek out of your shades at the very first crack of dawn, and stand up on your tiny train bed screaming, “Mama! I did it! I slept by myself! [Editor’s note: He didn’t.] The sun is up and it’s a beautiful day and the trees are awake and I wanna go downstairs and I want a banana and I want a blue and I want to watch Paw Patrol! Mama?? MAMAAAAAAAAA!!!”; Well, my darling boy, even the stars and moon have an opinion on you and…see above.
By that I mean, I planned a natural birth with my first son but had a pretty damn glorious epidural instead. My second baby was born in the fastest and most painful 2.5 hours of my life, most of which were spent at home waiting for a sitter, thus allowing me to imagine I would have turned down an epidural had I been offered one. Ahh, sweet, beautiful, natural birth.
In my plan, my writing, my musings about motherhood would also come about very naturally. I would caress my big pregnant belly and daydream about how I was going to utilize all of that time while my baby was sleeping to share my beautiful new mothering experiences. I would rest my baby on his nursing pillow while simultaneously nourishing his little body with my milk, and quietly, but confidently, hammer at the keys of my laptop. It would be sunshine and rainbows. It would be sunshine beaming down upon unicorns riding rainbows. Gosh, I was going to be a really, really fantastic mom. Continue reading