Learning to Fly

Wow! Have I crammed in a lot in three days.   I recited a few choice words for the naysayers on Alexa’s blog on Monday and  I introduced you all to a dog loving thirty two year old mystery man yesterday, and today, well today… Tamara’s here.  I could go on and on about my soul connection with Tamara. Our NICU stories, our identical choices in baby names, love of all things grunge, sort of the same maiden names, the instantaneous emotional connection I have to just about everything she says, and the list goes on.  On top of that, I … Continue reading

The In-Between

  I’m late. As usual.   I run to the car, without the time to second guess combining the thick black rimmed glasses with the billowy skirt and the sturdy black boots.  I wonder if my boss questions what happened to that woman who showed up to interview, in the urban chic business attire, the patent leather heels, and the straightened, shiny hair,  which today, piles onto my shoulders, bigger than usual, thanks to the slight bit of damp on this cool spring morning. It’s spring break week, my work schedule at the mercy of friends willing to take my … Continue reading

5 For Friday: Guest Post at Coach Daddy

  Oh, the joy of going grocery shopping by yourself – a luxury that only a mother could understand. A mall without kids in tow?  It feels as if you’ve just won the lottery. A girl’s night out? Heaven. Earlier this week, I confessed to not being the “best” at this mom thing. There are times, I’m selfish. There are times that even after being away from my kids all day, I just want to leave the house alone. If I am going to get really honest, there are five places where I’d actually prefer to never take my kids … Continue reading

Diva Versus the Board of Education

The members of Board of Education nodded their heads in unison as if prompted by ventriloquists, while we took turns making our remarks. That only seven parents out of a school with 300 students showed up did not help our cause.  Perhaps I expected too much from people.  It was "American Idol"  night after all, and after a long day at work, people needed to catch up on the Important Things!  Like playing Words with Friends! And Farmville!   Despite our pleas, the forced resignation of our school's highly respected, untenured principal was accepted. He was the casualty of politics, … Continue reading

Love Letters Part 2

I didn’t want a puppy.  I told them I didn’t want a puppy, but when you volunteer to foster dogs being rescued from shelters where they would otherwise be killed, it’s hard to say “no.”  It’s painful to imagine that alternate ending, when that puppy has no foster home to take it. The puppy comes to us with the name Tracey.    She’s cute!  But she’s a puppy.  She nips at my running shoe, she punctures a hole in my tank top.  She pees on the floor.  She nibbles at our wrists with her pointy puppy teeth.  She follows me … Continue reading

My Almost Meet-Up With @acctodenise

Earlier this week, joking around on Twitter, I fabricated a fantasy meet up among some of my favorite blogging girlfriends, people I’ve never met in person, but all who have a special place in my heart. In my fantasy, Christine, Michelle, Mary, Kristen, Denise and I all meet up in Maryland, where three out of the six of us live.  In the Twitter conversation, Michelle even offered me a place to say, saying that I could bunk up with her visiting in-laws (you were serious, Michelle, right?  I’m a very low maintenance house guest.  So long as I have access … Continue reading

Raising Hot Sauce

She sizes up her two year-old play date, with a large blue-eyed stare,  cocks her head to one side, and tosses her wispy brown hair back behind her shoulder.  "When  {pausing for a sigh and another hair toss} are you going home?" she demands, with breathy exasperation. Why would you ask that honey?  I inquire, although I already sense where this is going. "Because…" she starts, with hands on hips.  "He's Booooooring!" Meet Hot Sauce, the youngest of my three children, a four year-old spitfire with so much spice, she'd make Atomic Fireballs seem mellow on your tongue. Hot Sauce … Continue reading

Love Letters

It was the second phone call in a week from Miss F's teacher to discuss her defiant behavior.  Miss F was born defiant, I want to explain.  She could not be sleep trained. She would not allow me to put her down, ever, in a bouncy chair, Exercauser, or swing.  I learned to perform all household and personal tasks, from checking email to stir frying tofu,  with Miss F nestled in a sling against my chest.  She "ran away" for the first time, at the age of four, leaving me in the complicated position of having to leave a two-year … Continue reading