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Showing posts from 2017

A Holiday Letter to the Working Mother Whose Husband Travels

I forgot to move the elf (again), the light-up snowflake fell off the top of the house and the living room looks like a toy factory for Santa’s elves. I’ve unsuccessfully attempted to cook meatballs for the last two nights only to give in and order take-out.  I didn’t take out the garbage this morning because I forgot last night. I forgot last night because I was rocking my ninth-month old to sleep while my four-year-old continually crept in with requests every five or so minutes to either put cream on her ass or change the music on our Alexa. Her version of tip-toeing of course is much unlike an adult’s version and it is always accompanied by a loud and mischievous “shhhhh,” willing the baby to wake up so she can torture play with her some more.

What was I saying? Right. I forgot a lot of things this week. I printed out our Christmas card list that I had drummed up proudly. This year no family member would dare make fun of me for not sending out my cards! I’d send a card out to every…

Raising Miss New York

I live with Miss New York.

She barks orders at me every morning, insisting that her water cup be placed directly in front of her while she watches her morning television shows. If the volume on the boob tube is not to her liking, I am immediately summoned back into the living room to fix it. If her breakfast is too hot, it is requested that I blow on it. On rare occasions when she is extremely fatigued, I even help spoon feed her in an effort to help quicken the morning routine so we can get Miss New York to her destination. She tends to get lonely as well so if I am in the other room grooming myself for too long she yells, "Where are you?" Until I appear.

Then there is the matter of doing her hair. Most of the time I rather enjoy it, but some days I would just as soon see to it that she be given a pixie cut.  After finishing what I believe to be a well-executed braid,  she roughly puts her fingers through one of the braid's intersections as if to test its durability. In…

Keep It Simple

Fully equipped with a massive hole in the passenger side floor, my family’s Chevy Chevette that we begrudgingly called, Little Red Fred, powered through the Jersey streets with the best of the 80's rock bands as her soundtrack. There was so much wrong with that car, but the cassette player was so right. The front seat was a prize to be won, regardless of the fact that whoever sat there would be fending off the occasional pebble or splash of water. 

Mom always had an extra pair of knee socks for my sisters and I in case a puddle “snuck its way in." She would frogger her way around puddles, but sometimes they were just unavoidable. That was an added bonus for us being Catholic School kids, Mom and Dad never had to worry about us dirtying the entire bottom half of an outfit. Change the knee socks and BAM you are good as new. Yes, we went to Catholic school and my parents were driving around a car with a hole in it at the time. Ah the prices one is willing to pay for t…

In Her Eyes

I saw her today.

She had on a pink Disney princess tiara that sat crooked over her straight, brown locks of hair. The tiara clashed perfectly with the blue, yellow and red Super Girl costume she insisted on wearing over blue heart pants and pink sneakers. The remnants of the strawberries she had eaten with breakfast were stained on the lower parts of her cheeks and when I tried to swap the tiara for a blue headband to better match her ensemble - we were going out in public after all- I got the look to end all looks from my very decisive four-year-old daughter.

That look. Her hands on her hips. The tapping of her impatient right foot. The way the sun was hitting her hazel eyes.  On mornings like that it was as though I was sent back in time. She was there which meant she was still here. Sure 99% of the time my daughters looked like the female replicas of their father, but in some special fleeting moments I saw my family.

When Madison placed the tiara on the coffee table to entertain he…