Two weeks ago, I am at Children’s Hospital, waiting for the results of my daughter’s blood test. I am convinced my future looks bleak, hers even bleaker. Which is strange, considering I’m usually such an optimist. How am I going to write this scene in my memoir, I find myself wondering? How will I describe this night in the years and pages to come? (Such is the curse and the privilege of those who play with words, I suppose).Read More
I’ve been on a Frank Sinatra kick of late. Perhaps because I am having so much fun crooning to my daughter when the house is empty and no one else can hear me. (Sorry neighbors). It’s during a particularly rousing rendition of “The Way You Look Tonight” that I have a revelation.Read More
I look in the mirror this morning and see my grandmother. Or at the very least, I see her jowls. Just below my own cheeks. Though if I smile you hardly notice.
Immediately I want to call her and ask her - before it’s too late - when she remembers getting old. I mean, one day, she must have looked in the mirror and said to herself, I am an old woman.
Growing up, I loved spirit days at school. If it was crazy hair day, I used an entire can of Aquanet. If it was tourist day (growing up in a beach town, this was a popular one), you'd better believe I had my maps in my pocket and my camera around my neck. If it was school pride day, my eyelids were sure to be covered in blue and gold glitter. In eighth grade, it was no surprise that I was the dork voted 'Most Spirited.'Read More
How will this work?
For one week, I will give up everything I’ve come to rely on to fill the empty spaces of my days. No more grabbing my phone to scan the newsfeed, update my status, post a blog, share a picture, check my mail, watch a TED talk, read an article, stalk my friends. No binge-watching the latest House of Cards or season two of Schitt’s Creek and Kimmy Schmidt. For one week, I will rely on anything but a screen to keep me entertained.
The kids and the hubby will be in on it too, though they don’t know this yet.
I’m already starting to feel like my four-year-old when I tell him he’s had enough Handy Manny for the day.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (insert grown-up tantrum here)Read More