Last year, in our post-turkey bloat, we grabbed the remote and settled into something we rarely do. We vegged in front of the boob-tube. Immediately we felt bombarded.
The blaring onslaught of Black Friday ads was funny at first, but after an hour or so, being yelled at to BUY! BUY! BUY! the commercials didn’t seem so funny anymore…
CONTINUE READING >>
Last year, in our post-turkey bloat, we grabbed the remote and settled into something we rarely do. We vegged in front of the boob-tube. Immediately we felt bombarded.
The blaring onslaught of Black Friday ads was funny at first, but after an hour or so, being yelled at to BUY! BUY! BUY! the commercials didn’t seem so funny anymore…
CONTINUE READING >>
We’ve had this fantasy about whisking our entire family off to an exotic location for some time now. Imagine the five of us blissfully getting away from it all, laughing and sharing our experiences as we sip umbrella drinks while the sun sets into a tropical ocean.
Putting together a family vacation after the kids are grown and living on their own seems like it should be a snap compared to traveling with toddlers, or worse yet, teenagers.
So why is it so hard?
With no roadside diaper changes, exploding sippy cup disasters… CONTINUE READING >>
We’ve had this fantasy about whisking our entire family off to an exotic location for some time now. Imagine the five of us blissfully getting away from it all, laughing and sharing our experiences as we sip umbrella drinks while the sun sets into a tropical ocean.
Putting together a family vacation after the kids are grown and living on their own seems like it should be a snap compared to traveling with toddlers, or worse yet, teenagers.
So why is it so hard?
With no roadside diaper changes, exploding sippy cup disasters… CONTINUE READING >>
When women get to be “of a certain age” questions of appropriateness inevitably rear their ugly heads. I think I have squarely hit that certain age. With a vengeance.
My questions of appropriateness have actually turned into a LIST of questions of appropriateness:
Should I stop wearing shorts?
What about sleeveless blouses?
Is my hair too long?
When should I stop dying it?
Should I do something about my wrinkles?… CONTINUE READING >>
When women get to be “of a certain age” questions of appropriateness inevitably rear their ugly heads. I think I have squarely hit that certain age. With a vengeance.
My questions of appropriateness have actually turned into a LIST of questions of appropriateness:
Should I stop wearing shorts?
What about sleeveless blouses?
Is my hair too long?
When should I stop dying it?
Should I do something about my wrinkles?… CONTINUE READING >>
I’ve had two unexpected conversations recently that have given me pause for reflection. The first was with my father-in-law while dining over Mexican food in Kansas. While catching him up with our kids’ lives, he asked me if they were dating anyone of note. I told him that at the moment there were no significant others. Then, the bolt out of the blue,”Oh, you must be sad that you won’t be having grandchildren anytime soon.”
The next exchange was with my daughters, The Piglet and Decibel.
“All of our friends’ mothers are on crazy grandma patrol. How come you aren’t nagging us about having babies?”
It started out as gentle teasing, but… CONTINUE READING >>
I’ve had two unexpected conversations recently that have given me pause for reflection. The first was with my father-in-law while dining over Mexican food in Kansas. While catching him up with our kids’ lives, he asked me if they were dating anyone of note. I told him that at the moment there were no significant others. Then, the bolt out of the blue,”Oh, you must be sad that you won’t be having grandchildren anytime soon.”
The next exchange was with my daughters, The Piglet and Decibel.
“All of our friends’ mothers are on crazy grandma patrol. How come you aren’t nagging us about having babies?”
It started out as gentle teasing, but… CONTINUE READING >>
Here’s the thing. My best features come from my Romanian roots. I’ve always enjoyed having dark hair and blue eyes. I am psyched that my “gray” hair is silver, some people pay big bucks for that. Dracula was Romanian, and by most accounts was a particularly handsome man-thing.
That being said, we Romanians are a very hairy people. My beloved Grandpa not only had follicles growing out of his ears, but in his later years his lobes looked like small woodland creatures. My stunningly gorgeous mother had quite the collection of… CONTINUE READING >>
Here’s the thing. My best features come from my Romanian roots. I’ve always enjoyed having dark hair and blue eyes. I am psyched that my “gray” hair is silver, some people pay big bucks for that. Dracula was Romanian, and by most accounts was a particularly handsome man-thing.
That being said, we Romanians are a very hairy people. My beloved Grandpa not only had follicles growing out of his ears, but in his later years his lobes looked like small woodland creatures. My stunningly gorgeous mother had quite the collection of… CONTINUE READING >>
I’m constantly searching for material that dispels my internal anti-mantra, “You are a bad mommy. You shouldn’t be so happy that your children have left the nest. You are a bad…” In my latest frantic search, I came across a theory that I love. Un-nesting.
Suzanne Koven, M.D. writes in her post for Psychology Today entitled “The Un-Nesting Instinct”:
“Celia’s story started out sounding pretty familiar-a cliché almost. She was fiftyish and going through menopause and, in addition to the weight gain and hot flashes, she found herself irritable and sad. Her children, she told me, were a particular source of sadness. “You mean because they’re growing up, moving away?” I asked. ‘No,’ answered Celia, ‘Because they’re… CONTINUE READING >>
I’m constantly searching for material that dispels my internal anti-mantra, “You are a bad mommy. You shouldn’t be so happy that your children have left the nest. You are a bad…” In my latest frantic search, I came across a theory that I love. Un-nesting.
Suzanne Koven, M.D. writes in her post for Psychology Today entitled “The Un-Nesting Instinct”:
“Celia’s story started out sounding pretty familiar-a cliché almost. She was fiftyish and going through menopause and, in addition to the weight gain and hot flashes, she found herself irritable and sad. Her children, she told me, were a particular source of sadness. “You mean because they’re growing up, moving away?” I asked. ‘No,’ answered Celia, ‘Because they’re… CONTINUE READING >>
There is much more to beauty and allure than physical appearance. Years of shared experiences, and the comfort of complete compatibility, more than make up for any lost youth, no matter what these marketers splash across our screens.
As men, we see those images too, and have been persuaded — no, programmed — into thinking that we all want supermodels who think about nothing more than fun times and a lot of beer. Well, I have two things to say about that:
First… CONTINUE READING >>
There is much more to beauty and allure than physical appearance. Years of shared experiences, and the comfort of complete compatibility, more than make up for any lost youth, no matter what these marketers splash across our screens.
As men, we see those images too, and have been persuaded — no, programmed — into thinking that we all want supermodels who think about nothing more than fun times and a lot of beer. Well, I have two things to say about that:
First… CONTINUE READING >>
Where did you live when you were first starting out? I’ll bet it wasn’t quite the Taj Mahal.
Our first place was a one bedroom, former screened-in porch that had all the weather proofing of the average wiffle ball. It was a veritable private zoo of insect vermin — and we were glad to have it. We were proud and happy to be on our own.
Who are we to deny our offspring those same pleasures?… CONTINUE READING >>
Where did you live when you were first starting out? I’ll bet it wasn’t quite the Taj Mahal.
Our first place was a one bedroom, former screened-in porch that had all the weather proofing of the average wiffle ball. It was a veritable private zoo of insect vermin — and we were glad to have it. We were proud and happy to be on our own.
Who are we to deny our offspring those same pleasures?… CONTINUE READING >>
