my little life

here's my proof

2012-02-14T11:09:00.001-05:00

"there is no love, there is only proofs of love."

— jean cocteau

happy valentine's day.

mbm

why to have a husband

2012-02-13T13:21:00.000-05:00

all week you were a wreck, especially in the mornings. youhad teething baby who insisted on sleeping with you during the night, which youdon't mind except for the fact that it compromises your own sleep (though youknow 12 years from now you'll be staring at his closed bedroom door, longingfor the days when his greatest comfort in life was being in your arms—the sleeploss now is A-OK).

as a result, the mornings started slow and groggy and then,with one glance at the clock, turned chaotic. eight-fifteen is the time younormally leave for work. suddenlyit's the time you realize, gee, i should probablyget in the shower, huh? the stress of being tired and being late would beenough to put you in a sour mood, but on top of this you were feeling nervousand guilty about your taxes, to the point where there was a lump lodged in yourthroat for several days and you were just waiting for it to give way to afull-on sob session.

it's a long story, but in a year you were counting on a nicerefund, you're instead having to pay up, big time—in part, because you tookmoney from your personal IRA. (this happened almost a year ago, when you werequite pregnant, in the process of purchasing a home for the first time andwatching a big chunk of your next egg go bye-bye. it seemed like a smart moveat the time, to take the penalty-free IRA distribution in order to rebuild yoursavings. that it would be considered income at the end of the year—and you onlypaid only 10 percent to the fed at the time of the distribution—didn't reallyregister. until it was time to start doing the taxes, of course.)

so the fact that you and your husband owe money isessentially your fault. this is what you kept telling yourself, this is what wasmaking your head hurt and your chest feel tight and, of course, making you snapat your husband in the mornings. because you were showing up late to work everymorning, you skipped the gym at lunchtime (more guilt!) and there was nowhereelse for your anxiety and frustration to go.

thursday morning was especially rough, because just as youwere heading out the door you remembered that you'd left a load of laundry inthe dryer and there was stuff in the washer that needed to be moved along."gugggggh!" you grunted when you remembered. in a huff, you threwyour keys on the table, dropped your bag, grabbed all the dry clothes and piledthem messily on your dresser—something to look forward to later. "thisweek sucks!" you said as you left for the day.

when you got home that evening, the haphazard pile of cleanclothes on your dresser had been meticulously folded. just the sight of thiseased your mind and the tightness in your chest. while you were still basking in the glow of the removal ofthis tedious chore from your to-do list, your husband announced, "i'mgoing to make macaroni with garlic, olive oil and broccoli for dinner. is thatOK?"

is that OK? is thatOK?!?!

later that night, after you ate the delicious dinner hewhipped up, and after the baby was (finally) asleep, in his crib (at least for thetime being), you sat next to your husband on the couch and thanked him forfolding your laundry. "that is the best valentine's day present i couldask for," you told him honestly. "in fact, you're off the hook forall remaining holidays this year, including my birthday."

what you really meant is that his thoughtfulness (he alsoorganized the cabinets and the freezer, and did the baby's laundry, too) inresponse to your stress and misery was a true gift, the most meaningful gift. becauseyou know not every wife—in fact, probably most wives—has it as good as you do.

that fact was underlined on saturday, after you left yourtax accountant's office. it was stressful—mostly because you hadn't realizedhow much you didn't know about, well,everything financial—and even though the accountant had better news than youfeared, you were still feeling the weight of your mistakes.

"how're you doing?" your husband asked as youheaded to the car, perhaps noticing that shoulders were hovering up by yourearlobes.

"i don't know," you said.

he stopped and looked at you. "we're going to be fine,"he said. "it's OK, everything will be OK." and he gave you a hugright there in the driveway.

quite possibly the best hug you've ever gotten.

mbm

i think i'm going to let myself off the hook

2012-02-10T16:16:00.000-05:00

not to go on and on about this, but: regarding Matthew's sudden disdain for his crib (currently, he needs to fall asleep—sound asleep—cuddled with me before i can place him in his crib; like clockwork, he wakes around four in the morning and chirps and yelps until i bring him back to bed with me, where we sleep until seven o'clock), i'm goingto stop stressing and googling and just go with it.

via parenting.com, i saw alink to Mayim Bialik's blog on the Todayshow's parenting page. what can i say? i love Beaches and i loved Blossom back in the day. she's a hippie-dippy for sure (i use that termnon-judgmentally, i swear) and sort of conjures up memories of Maggie Gyllenhaal'scharacter in Away We Go, but she's also got her PhD in neuroscience (who knew?) and i have to say, i think she makes an excellent point here, defending the practice of bed-sharing:

Do you know any 18-year-oldssleeping with their parents? Nursing? Using a pacifier? Wearing a diaper? Ididn’t think so. Early dependence on our parents for comfort, warmth, safety,and love at night, as well as in the day, is natural and normal. Childrenoutgrow the “need” when they are developmentally ready to do so. There is noevidence that children who sleep with their parents are whiny, clingy, spoiled,or less able to become productive, sensitive and caring adults. On thecontrary, families who sleep together report feelings of security, closenessand trust that I think our society could use more of.

mbm

why my son's first word will almost surely be four letters

2012-02-10T14:08:00.002-05:00

warning: questionable language herein.

matty would not go to sleep in his crib again last night,despite being clearly ready for bed. cozy in his PJs with a full belly, his Pooh Bear next to him, his turtle nighlight shining green stars above, he was not lulled into a peaceful sleep. no, no. he was all screaming, gagging, and other awfulnoises his parents do not have the intestinal fortitude to endure.

so, after 10 minutes of anguish, he wound up curled in mylap on the couch, head against my chest, mellow but awake, content to be held by his mama. (have imentioned i love him? like, a lot?)

next to us was Michael, who was watching the Rangers game on TV.whatever team they were playing almost scored a goal and he yelped,"fuck!" he instantly looked at Matthew and me, realizing his slip-up, and said, "shit!"

that's my hubster.

mbm

ending the vicious cycle

2012-02-08T16:55:00.000-05:00

i'm reading this book called Brain Rules for Baby by John Medina, which my mom gave me when iwas pregnant. at the time i was reading too many other baby books (mostly aboutlabor and breastfeeding) to focus on it. but i picked it up last week and it'sincredibly fascinating. some of it is beyond me, for sure, but most of it i'mcomprehending—and loving.

one could argue that parents are already inundated with somuch information—facts, statistics, details, things to worry about—thatspending time contemplating their child's brain development is just too tall anorder. but i disagree. to support my opinion, i give you:

EXHIBIT A: the Missouri teenager who killed her nine-yearold neighbor three years ago, wrote in her journal that the experience was"ah-mazing" and was just sentenced to life in prison.

EXHIBIT B: Josh Powell, the Washington father of two who wasunder suspicion for his wife's disappearance two years ago and who on Sunday blewup his house killing himself and his boys—after apparently driving an ax intoeach of his sons' heads.

EXHIBIT C: the woman i witnessed Friday night driving onRoute 78 West near Newark, looking at her cell phone rather than at the road,while two young children (who i assumed were her sons) bounced around in thebackseat, clearly not wearing seatbelts. (my father was driving and by the timei realized what was going on in that car we'd already pulled ahead of her, so iwas unable to get a license plate number. instead i looked away and just triedto forget. these things pierce my heart now, i can't even explain it.)

Medina covers in his book both the seeds for a baby'shappiness and well-being (a.k.a. the elements a parent can't control, thetraits and inclinations a child is born with) and the soil (the elements a parentcan control). as a first-time parentwho occasionally feels clueless, i'm naturally most interested in the soil.some of it is common sense—spend time with your baby, talk to your baby, engageyour baby, etc. some of it is rather enlightening. for example, empathy plays avery, very big role in raising a happy, successful kid. meaning—rather thandismissing, dodging or diminishing your child's emotions, you need toacknowledge, validate and accept them. understanding one's own emotions isintegral to being able to do this. if you have a grasp on your own feelings,you can relate those feelings to your child's. for example, telling a child onthe verge of a tantrum, "i think you're feeling frustrated, kiddo. do youknow what frustrated means? i feel frustrated sometimes, too," etc.apparently just addressing the emotion head-on (rather than saying, "calmdown! stop it! why are you behaving like this?") can help a child calmdown considerably.

(and isn't that what all of us want on our crappiest days,during our toughest moments—to have someone say, "i know how you feel. iget it. i've been there, too. it'll be OK.")

anyway, Medina also covers in his book what happens tochildren who don't get the attention,love and emotional support they require. again and again he cites studies andstatistics and examples. and i keep thinking of the three stories above—and howneglectful parenting is a legacy. sometimes individuals are able to rise abovetheir circumstances—this is called resiliency—but more often than not, they'redestined to repeat the same behavior they witnessed in their parents. i don'tthink anything makes me feel as helpless as knowing how many unfit parentsthere are out there, raising troubled kids, who will go onto become unfitparents themselves raising troubled kids....

it's been reported that Josh Powell's father (who wasarrested several months ago on child porn charges) is not a person of interestin the disappearance of Susan Powell. clearly Josh had a pathetic, psychoticrole model growing up, which does not excuse his actions by any means butperhaps explains them.

Alyssa Bustamante—the girl who murdered thenine-year-old—apparently grew up with a mother addicted to drugs and a fatherin jail for stabbing someone.

and the woman i saw driving the car on Friday night? thetexting is one thing—the cell phone is one thing, completely idiotic and beyonddangerous, but she's hardly alone in that offense. but i really can't think ofanyone in her right mind who would drive a car without first securing smallchildren in booster seats. evidence points to a lack of regard for thechildren's safety, which makes me think she's somehow emotionally detached,which makes me think she grew up in an unstable house.

this is hardly the first time i've ranted about this sort ofthing on my blog. and i'm sure it doesn't accomplish a damn thing. i just wishpeople thought more—a lot more—before... well, i guess before engaging inunprotected sex, if they're not ready to be parents in the first place. andthen i wish they realized that they don't just have a baby. they're charged with raising a responsible,thoughtful, kind and moral individual, who will be out in the world in no time,contributing (or not) to society. having a child is not like buying a house—it'snot just a thing to do that you can un-do if it doesn't work out. if youdefault on a mortgage or abandon a home, it's not ideal, but the damages areminimal. if you abandon a child (physically or emotionally) that child stillexists, still has feelings, will find a way to express those feelings and itwill not likely be in a positive way, will possibly have a very negative impacton the life of someone else, or on the lives of many.

dramatic? maybe. but it's true. not enough people considerwhat a commitment having a child is. (hell, i'm pretty sure some people i workwith think i'm a slacker because i do my best to get out of the office everyday no later than five-thirty. guess what? my kid likes to see my face. seeingmy face will help him grow into a happier person. and a happy person will dogood things for the world.)

anyway, i guess i just wish there was an easy solution, asure-fire way to end the vicious cycle that causes the heartache i mentionedabove.

i will probably keep ranting about until there is.

mbm

project runway: the hopeless edition

2012-02-07T15:15:00.001-05:00

i think i've worn jeans to work every day for the last twomonths. if i mixed it up at all, it's been with other casual pants. typically pairedwith Converse or mocs. thankfully this is acceptable where i work, but it doesn'tmean i don't aspire to look better every day.

for example: last night as i was drifting off to sleep i decided i'd puton a skirt in the morning. a skirt, dammit! and if my co-workers thought i had a jobinterview—what other reason could ihave for dressing up?—well, oh well.

but then my kid was up and persistently crying at 4am, soi fetched him and brought him back to bed, and he was still soundly sleepingwhen my alarm went off at six-thirty. in fact, he was still soundly sleepingwhen i decided to sneak out of bed and into the shower at seven-fifteen. but extracting my armfrom around his little pajama'd form proved too disruptive and so breakfast came first.

once i warmed his bottle and made my oatmeal and his bowl ofbananas-and-strawberries, and once i fed both of us (one bite for him, one bitefor me) and then remembered to update our Dry-Erase calendar (which was stillall about January) and then changed Matty's diaper got him dressed and thensqueezed in a quick photo shoot (because he's 10 months old today) and got himin his bouncy swing attached to the door jamb of the bathroom and then got myself into the shower, i wasalready 45 minutes behind schedule. which left no time to shave my legs, whichis pretty necessary—at least as a courtesy to those who have to look at me—whenwearing a skirt.

it became a choice—nothing like Sophie's, but still achoice: arrive even later to work than i already was sure to, but wearing a skirt; or beonly moderately late and show up in jeans again?

the other thing i had to consider was that wearing a skirtrequires heels. at least for me, because my legs—as i'm sure i've mentionedhere multiple times—look like tree stumps when i wear flats. but heelsslow my walking time (and up the chances of me tripping and fallingexponentially) and when i'm running late that damn condo-operated shuttle busis never there, so i have to hoof itto the PATH, which is a pretty good distance and takes almost 10 minutes even in sneakers.

so, let's review:

- running late

- no time to shave

- most certainly will not catch the shuttle

thus, i'm in jeans and Converse today. and this is prettymuch how 90 percent of my mornings have gone in the last 10 months. which explainswhy almost all of my jeans have holes in various places. i wouldn't care somuch if the other moms in my office didn't manage to look absolutely flawlessalmost every day. but they do, and i find this highly offensive. i mean, seriously. it's not like i can glance down at my beat-upsneakers, shrug my shoulders and say, "ah, you know: baby at home." no,these other moms are wearing high heels.and dresses. and accessories.

what am i missing here?

mbm

guess that makes you a big, fat liar, Nancy

2012-02-02T16:45:00.000-05:00

i was trying to get on the Susan G. Komen official websiteto see if they've posted anything in response to their sickening, inane, unabashedlypolitical decision to cut their funding of Planned Parenthood's breast cancerscreening program. i couldn't get on the site via Google—i imagine there's alot of traffic these days—but i did notice the link below, and the copy beneathit was... heartbreaking? yeah, i think that's the right word.

how quickly a person's beliefs, promises and morals arechucked in the dumpster as soon as politics is involved. hardly a newsflash,but so very depressing.

mbm

be there.

2012-01-30T14:52:00.001-05:00

mbm

the glory of love

2012-01-30T11:59:00.000-05:00

i drove out to Long Island yesterday with my son in thebackseat, his sleeping mouth open in a perfect little O. sunshine streamedthrough the windows and kept us warm enough that i never had to turn on theheat, and the Frank Sinatra station on Pandora filled the car with the perfectcozy soundtrack for a Sunday morning.

i think it was around exit 44 when "The Glory ofLove" came on, sung by the one-and-only Jimmy Durante. i'd only ever heardit sung by Bette Midler in Beaches,and the movie's context made it impossible to think of it as anything otherthan a song for friends. but Jimmy's version made me realize it's a perfect odeto marriage. in fact, it's probably the best philosophy on marriage i've everheard.

i made a note to download it on iTunes and play it on thedays when—well, when i need to, when i need the reminder. and i thought i'dshare the lyrics here, just in case anyone out there needs to take a moment,take a deep breath, and remember we're all on the same side here. it's good tobe kind, it's good to be appreciative, and it's wonderful to be loved.

you've got to give a little, take a little

and let your poor heart break a little

that's the story of, that's the glory of love

you've got to laugh a little, cry a little

until the clouds roll by a little

that's the story of, that's the glory of love

as long as there's the two of you

you've got the world and all its charms

and when the world is through with you

you've got each other's arms

you've got to win a little, lose a little

and always have the blues a little

that's the story of, that's the glory of love

mbm

guilt

2012-01-20T16:36:00.004-05:00

that was the theme of my week. i felt guilty for almost everythingi did or didn't do and now the feeling has spread here, to my blog. i hadintentions to write an update today, but have run out of time.

here's to a guilt-free weekend.

mbm

my thoughts exactly

2012-01-13T16:32:00.001-05:00

"I don't believe that you can have it all. You have toset priorities for yourself. I've always felt that family was the mostimportant thing. That's not a putdown of people who work very hard and arejuggling very high-pressure jobs, but you have to figure out what works bestfor you, and for me, that meant switching off different jobs through the courseof my career to find ones that provide better balance for me." —MeredithVieira

(i miss her terribly on Today.)

mbm

whole again

2012-01-13T15:45:00.001-05:00

not to bore you all with the mundane details of my renewedcommitment to exercise, but today i took a Cardio Kickboxing class, eventhough my legs and abs were still smarting from the ass-kicking they took theother day. it's literally been years since i took a class like that—full-oncardio sweat-fest, et cetera—and i'm proud to say i did okay! not only did inot keel over halfway through, i managed to keep up with the circuits. not thati didn't jab when i should have been hooking, or going left when i should havegone right. but, all in all, i didn't embarrass myself. and ohhh it felt so good. today, especially,i needed that outlet.

already i'm dreading the end of this month-long dalliancewith NYSC. during the class i was trying to think of ways i could rejoin forgood. i can do the elliptical from now 'til the cows come home, but what ireally benefit from is taking classes. and they aren't offered at the gym inour building. yeah, there's plenty on Fit TV and god knows i own a dozenworkout DVDs. but it's harder to do at home. i just do so much better in aclass setting. i'm not distracted by the layer of dust on the bookshelves orthinking about the load of laundry that's been sitting in the dryer that ireally should fold, or worrying that Matty will wake up from his nap before i'mdone. i'm at the gym, in the studio, and i'm focused. only one thing to dothere, and that is sweat.

anyway, i'm wondering... if i impose an embargo on Targetfor a while, i could probably swing (guilt-free) the monthly dues for enoughmonths to get me back into shape for summer. and perhaps beyond. i just feellike this has been missing from my life—in a big, big way—and i know having itback on a regular basis will do wonders for me, much more than Target tripsever did (but i will always love you, Tar-jay!).

mbm

words of wisdom from Dr. Andy Brown

2012-01-12T22:19:00.000-05:00

"the thing about the picture is: how do you look in it? it's not about who you're standing next to or what's in the background; it's are you smiling, are you happy, are you good with the choices that you've made? because if you are, it doesn't matter where you're standing or who you're standing next to...it's a good picture."

i love Everwood. absolutely love.

mbm

a conversation happening right now between my lower and upper body

2012-01-11T17:21:00.000-05:00

lower: yo, man, can you believe what she made us do today? ithought that craziness was over with the kid in the picture.

upper: dude, you don't know. we've been lugging around thatkid—twenty pounds of him—for monthsnow. in and out of the high chair, the crib, the bouncy seat, the car seat. notto mention swinging him up in the air and wrangling him on the changing table. thatclass today was easy.

lower: whatever, man. we've gotten quite used to relaxing onthe couch, so we're fighting back. wait 'til she tries to get down those subwaystairs tonight on her way home. HA!she'll be sorry then.

upper: dude, don't be stupid. we're a lot closer to her headthan you are and we know what's going on in there. she thinks you're nothing but forgettable flab and she'll be damned if you see the light of day this summer withoutsome serious transformation. you wanna be stuck in jeans in July? no? then getready. this ain't no joke.

mbm

just a little note

2012-01-10T16:30:00.001-05:00

"c'mon, guys! read my blog!'"

i'm not a big fan of self-promotion, but just a reminderthat i'm writing another blog called Hey, Bubba! the posts are written to my son, Matty, but are really all about my adventures in motherhood.

evenif it's not your cup of tea, please—if you have a moment—pass on the link to friends for whom it may be.something i've learned in my nine months of motherhood is that no one understands you quite as well as a fellow mother, and you can never have too many compatriots in the trenches!

mbm

watch out, glutes. i'm coming for you.

2012-01-10T14:03:00.000-05:00

i am so giddy right now. sogiddy.

last month i saw a special on Living Social for a month-longpass to New York Sports Club for $24. i jumped on it. and i just went acrossthe street from my office and got my guest pass and tomorrow afternoon plan toreintroduce myself (namely, my flabby limbs) to Total Body Conditioning. icannot wait.

i was a faithful member of NYSC for many years and—as i'vewritten about previously (here and here, for example)—Total Body Conditioningwas my weekly ritual. i woke up early almost every Saturday and walked the mileto the Cobble Hill outpost and happily suffered for 55 minutes at the hands ofmy beloved instructor, David. i only took the class once after i got pregnant,because the one time i did take it, toward the end of my first trimester, mademe nauseous and impossibly exhausted and as much as i missed it, i justcouldn't subject myself to that again, especially as the bump grew and grew. istuck to the elliptical and treadmill and, ultimately, just went for long walksoutside.

this is all to say it's been a long time since i was a regular gym rat. and yes, we do have a verynice gym nine floors down in our condo building, but i find it virtuallyimpossible to get myself there. mornings are out now, since the hubster iscommitted again to running (very proud of him) and mornings are the best timefor him to go. so while he's out logging miles, i feed and play with Matty, getboth of us washed and dressed and ready for the day and then head off to work.the original plan was for me to workout afterMatty goes to bed at night, but lemme tell you—trying to find the energy towork out at eight o'clock at night, when you've been up from five-thirty or sixo'clock in the morning, is very, very hard. rest these days is almost asimportant—actually, i'd say more important than—working out, so nighttimeexercise isn't practical.

but—i am entitledto a lunch break. and there's a NYSC so close to my office, it's practically inthe building. and twice a week, Total Body Conditioning is offered at oneo'clock in the afternoon.

SIGN. ME. UP.

well, i am signedup, obviously. in fact, my name is already on the list for tomorrow's class. ijust need the work gods to continue cutting me some slack. it hasn't been toohectic so far this year (i just knocked on my head three times to avoid jinxingmyself) and i'm hoping it stays that way for the next few weeks. i really justwant to get my body back in the groove. i think if i can get myself re-addictedto feeling fit and remind my muscles what they used to be capable of, i'll gainmore motivation to work out once Matty's in dreamland.

so, wish me luck. and please say a little prayer that somehuge, must-do-now work project doesn'tfall from the sky on me tomorrow morning. i really need this opportunity!really, really, really.

a funny side note: after i got myself signed up at NYSC, ipopped into Duane Reade to get a new lock, since i have no idea where my oldone is and, considering it's been a year since i last used it, i have littlehope of remembering the combination. true to January's form, however, DuaneReade was sold out. all the New Year's resolutioners beat me to it.

guess i'm not the only one desperate for a new start!

mbm

changed my mind

2012-01-06T15:31:00.002-05:00

we're nearly a week into 2012 now and despite my assertionthat i would make no resolutions, assorted goals keep popping into my mind. iprobably won't be able to recall them all at once, so i may record them herepiecemeal, but here are a few:

no more rushing.unless it's for my child or someone i love desperately needs me or there's araging fire nearby, i am not going to rush anywhere for anything. this morningi was rocking Matthew, trying to lull him into his morning nap. Michael hadjust gotten home from his overnight at work and was already asleep himself andmy parents—aka Friday's Matty-sitters—had not yet arrived. i had a meeting at 10o'clock that i'd already pushed back until 10:30 and felt myself stressing aboutgetting to the office. and then i looked down at my sweet boy's droopingeyelids, his insanely gorgeous lashes, his perfect little nose. his legs arealready spilling over the armrest of the glider; how many more opportunitieswill i have to rock him this way? and i thought, "no. no meeting is moreimportant that this. this time is a gift." and when i finally left, ididn't exactly amble to work, but imade a point not to rush. and guess what? everyone lived. so: no more hecticcommutes or stressing over the clock or worrying about anything stupid.

make marriage a verb,not a noun. no matter how much you read or hear it from other people, noone can really prepare anyone else for the impact a baby has on a marriage. youhave no way of knowing until you're in it. and it doesn't even have to be anovertly negative impact, per se (though lack of sleep, hormones andindividually-shifting priorities are bound to cause some fireworks now andthen). in fact, the change is almost imperceptible. you spend so many weeksadjusting to life with the baby, the baby's schedule, the baby's needs, andthen work gets throw into the mix and it's a whole other period of adjustmentand then you look up one night while you're sitting on the couch after puttingthe kiddo to bed and there's anotherperson in the room, and you're all, "i'm sorry, you look familiar, buthow do we know each other? " notgood. you think, oh, it's OK, we're solid,we'll be fine. we'll have ameaningful conversation again—right after i empty the dishwasher/check on thebaby/check my e-mail. marriage takes work. even more work when you're busyworking on sixteen other things. i learned that big time in 2011. so i plan to be married everyday in 2012.

pick up the phonemore. i am so not a phone person. i don't know why. my dad is not a phoneperson either, so maybe it's genetic. i will write anyone a 10,000 word e-mailany day, but picking up the stupid phone and actually calling someone justnever seems to happen. i really don't have the time for it, usually. i commuteunderground, so it's not like i can talk to anyone then. and writing a personale-mail at work is a helluva lot more inconspicuous than making a personal phonecall. but—considering i don't get tosee my friends as often as i used to, i'm feeling the need to really reconnect.Facebook is great, but it so doesn't count. so i'm going to attempt to bereally old-fashioned and reach out and touch someone.

that's all i can remember for now. i'm sure there'll bemore...

mbm

christmas post-mortem

2012-01-04T15:35:00.002-05:00

it was magical for him, that's all that matters.

defunct Christmas trees line the curbs, bits of stubborntinsel shimmering in the wind. guys in gloves and parkas are perched onladders, removing wreaths and garland from buildings in the city. guilt-laden commercials for weight loss programs abound. all signsindicate the holidays are over, but i'm wondering: is this true? because minewere a total blur and i can't say for sure they actually happened...

it's the craziest thing. our tree is down, i packed away allthe decorations, the presents are unwrapped and put away (or, in the case ofMatty's, scattered around the better part of our living room). but it all feelslike i dreamed it. welcome to Christmas with a kid, a husband with a crazy workschedule and family in three states.

out of the entire previous two weeks, i think my favoriteday was Christmas Eve. and not even the actual eve part, though that was very nice. i'm talking about ChristmasEve day. i was home alone with Matty and charged with getting us both packed,dressed and into the city to meet Michael at his office by four o'clock in theafternoon so we could begin our trek to Westchester for the family celebration.the fact that i succeeded—and without any meltdowns or malfunctions—is(clearly) one of my most crowning achievements.

it wasn't just that i got us dressed and onto the PATH. itwas that i made (and decorated and packaged) cake balls to bring to my in-laws;it was that i got last-minute presents wrapped and organized; it was that i wasable to take a (somewhat) relaxing bubble bath while Matty napped and give mylegs a proper shave (c'mon, fellow moms, how often does that happen nowadays?); it was that i kept Matty happy and occupiedwhile i painted my toenails (no time for a pedi); it was that i timed the wholething so damn perfectly that i had time to stop at Dunkin' Donuts for a much-neededcoffee and get on the PATH before theone i had intended to get us on. and that was a genius move, by the way, becausegetting us—meaning Matthew in the stroller and me with a purse, a duffle bagand a diaper bag in tow—from the 33rd Street station in midtown over to thewest side and up 25 blocks on foot proved more challenging than i anticipated.what the hell are so many people doing around Macy's on Christmas Eve? are you all out of your minds?!

anyway, when we arrived at Michael's office, i felt like i'drun a marathon. not that i ever have, but the simultaneous exhaustion and pridethat washed over me seemed a lot like what i've heard marathoners experienceonce they cross the finish line. and, believe me, i'm not touting any amazingaccomplishment here in the grand scheme of things. but considering i'm nowalways at least a half-hour late going anywhere—and that's on easy days, whenputting on pantyhose is not required and when i have the luxury of the car astransportation—the fact that nothingwent wrong amazed me. i felt like a superhero, i really did.

but the fatigue from that day stayed with me for the nextfew, thus rendering Christmas the blur that it was. we celebrated the Eve inWestchester and arrived at my parents' a little before two o'clock on Christmasmorning. we were awake five hours later to ensure enough time to open presents andhave breakfast before Michael had to head back to work. Matty's sleep schedulewas off for a few days (nap? what's anap?) and let's just say i was very glad that i'd done what i could torelish the entire season rather than put all my eggs in Christmas Day's basket.

it was a nice Christmas, for sure. but i am hoping 2012brings less complicated orchestrations and more opportunities to simplify. notthat i mind being a superhero, of course, but i have a feeling my cape willfray easily if worn too often...

mbm

i prefer mine à la mode

2011-12-29T15:36:00.000-05:00

mbm

next year...

2011-12-29T15:17:00.000-05:00

my dad asked me the other day if i had any resolutions forthe new year. i used to draw up a whole list at the end of each December and would revisit it throughoutthe year to check my progress. i don't have time for that this year. my wishesand hopes aren't that specific, except for one.

i intend to be fully committed,in 2012, to living in the moment. cherishing life as it comes and not frettingabout the mistakes i've made or what is still to come. i spent too much of mytwenties looking back regretfully and looking forward anxiously (mostly,probably, because living in the moment thenwas so goddamn painful). but that's for the birds. all around us are stories ofheartache—like the family that died in the airplane crash on the New Jersey highway, en route to their holiday getaway in Georgia, or the three girls and their grandparents killed in the house fire in Connecticut earlyChristmas morning. they're indelible lessons to appreciate what we have right now.

this story in particular is a beautiful example of throwingreason and common sense out the window, when the occasion calls for it. younever know what moments are going to stay with you forever—and you sure ashell won't remember those moments if you're worrying about something you can'tchange or something that hasn't even happened yet.

mbm

it's not too late!

2011-12-21T16:56:00.000-05:00

just a reminder that there are only 10 daysleft in phase one of my Typos for Kiddos fundraising campaign! i know you're all busy shopping and wrapping and baking and stressing, but please—while you're reading recipes or standing in line at Macy's or enduring a flight delay at the airport—keep your eyes peeled for typos and send 'em on!

so far we've raised $95 (amazing!) for the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia, where our friends' infant son is currently awaiting a life-saving organ transplant. i would love for us to push that amount even higher.

several friends (and ~~strangers~~ new friends) have inquiredabout donating directly to CHOP themselves. i recently created a fundraising pagethrough the hospital's foundation that allows people to do just that—you can find it here. i wouldbe thrilled if anyone could make any type of donation during this last week of theofficial 'giving season'—but i still want the typos, when you find 'em!

thank you to everyone who has participated so far, andforwarded the info on to their friends, and really worked to spread the word. ilook forward to continuing our fundraising efforts—and working towarderadicating sloppy editing—throughout all of 2012!

mbm

inspiration: educating, completely

2011-12-21T11:04:00.000-05:00

love this girl. even though she's a total math nerd.

my amazing friend Kate-ums (my nickname for her, used here todifferentiate from my other friend Kate, who wrote a few weeks ago about herinspiration) is a rather private person. she and i are total opposites in thatway. i'm an over-sharer (breaking news!), while it often takes two glasses ofwine and the jaws of life to get things out of her (kidding, kidding). but i really wanted her towrite about what inspires her, because when we have dinner together and shestarts talking about teaching—it inspires me.it's a beautiful thing to see someone so passionate about what she does.the best part is that, way back when we met nearly 18 years ago at CarnegieMellon's summer drama program, she was on a path to be an incredible actress(which she still is) and she was admittedly not a fan of little kids. today,she's a well-loved, highly respected and very successful teacher of fourthgraders. (i really want her to teachBubs someday.)

and, i'm so happy to report, she agreed (with very littlebegging on my part!) to share a little about what she does and how it inspiresher. i owe you one, Kate-ums!

"People often ask me what I do.

'I’m a teacher.'

The reaction is usually the same. These people smile andsay, 'That must be...fun,' visibly unsure how to elaborate.

I nod thinking, Oh youhave no idea.

Teaching is the most joyous profession in the entire world.Certainly there are the thrilling academic aspects of my job. I delight inhelping a student understand how to make sense of numbers, to ask thoughtfulresearch questions, to learn how to skillfully craft a piece of writing.

Perhaps more importantly, there are the social and emotionalparts of my job. I relish helping nine- and ten-year-old children work outconflicts respectfully, to move towards independence, to see themselves asindividuals who really matter in this world.

There is nothing quite like being a teacher.

Which brings me to the people who truly inspire me: myfellow teachers. I’ve had the great opportunity to work with other teachers inmy school this year. I’ve watched them implement new strategies, look deeply attheir own practices, and collaborate with passion. My teaching peers arrive atschool well before students arrive and stay long after students depart. Mycolleagues spend their extra time at professional conferences and working withfamilies to ensure the success of the students in their classrooms. It takes alot of care, insight, and reflection to do the job well and my peers exceedexpectations at every turn.

I’m so incredibly proud to call myself a teacher.

Teaching is a labor or love.

And, yes - it’s also incredibly fun."

mbm

my grown-up christmas list

2011-12-20T14:01:00.000-05:00

nothing on my list will fit under my tree.

i haven't had the opportunity to sit on Santa's lap yet thisyear, but when i do, this is what i'm going to ask him for:

- a clean home. however Santa can make that happen—acleaning crew, magical elves, Mr. Clean himself—i'll take it. scooping up dustbunnies here and there with a Kleenex and strategically arranging shampoobottles to block the crud in the shower is not working for me anymore.

- the free time of all the unmotivated-to-exercise people inthe world. ya'll can come sit on MY couch and watch my son while i make gooduse of my pent-up motivation on the treadmill.

- one night every month—just one measly night—of 12uninterrupted hours of sleep. perhaps i should speak to my child about thatone, not Santa.

- for my friends—near and far—to know that i think about allof them much more often than they probably suspect. just because i forgetrepeatedly to respond to an e-mail or your birthday card is six weeks late or acatch-up dinner seems more elusive than the Holy Grail does not mean i don't love you. i do. so verymuch. i'm just suffering from schedulingitis and a faulty brain.

- for my son to continue on his current happy, healthy pathto toddlerhood—but also to stay as cuddly, smushy and impossibly sweet as he isright now.

- the secret to achieving a balanced life: love, work,family, friends, alone time. someonemust know how to do it well, consistently. whoever you are, tell Santa so he can tell me. orjust contact me directly. we'll do lunch. if i can find the time.

- more new episodes of SesameStreet. how many do they make in a season, anyway? six?

- a few extra weeks' vacation time, and a few extra bucks toenjoy them.

- for Friday NightLights to magically return, and for anyone with the last name of Kardashianto be relegated to oblivion.

- to stop finding wiry, silver hairs on my head. i mean, areyou kidding me with that?

- to teach the world not to sing in perfect harmony, but—once and for all—the proper usage of your and you're, there, their and there and then and than. if i'm being reallygreedy, i'll add could/should have tothat list (it's not could/should of,dammit!).

- world peace.which starts at home. meaning: treat your family like friends and your friendslike family. i read that somewhere recently and wow, it's deceptively profound.

what's on your list this year?

merry chrismukhah!

mbm

this is my diet from now until sunday

2011-12-19T16:51:00.001-05:00

1. candy

2. candy canes

3. candy corn

4. syrup

happy Christmas week!

mbm

why not now?

2011-12-19T16:41:00.001-05:00

it's come to my attention several times recently, viavarious bits of news from people i know, that life can change in an instant. this isnot a ground-breaking revelation, of course, but one that bears reflection, ithink, especially this time of year.

why? because people are running around in a mindless maddash to pick up presents, send cards, plan and prepare for trips to whereverthey're headed for the holidays—and how much of it is even enjoyable to any ofthem? how much is done in the spirit of generosity, good will, happiness, love?there's no way of knowing for sure, but i'm guessing very little.

i think it's nearly impossible to keep in mind the fragilityof life until you experience an event that makes it impossible for you not to. but by then it's often too late.if i had a magic wand or pixie dust or mind-controlling abilities, i would giveeveryone on the planet an internal barometer that would keep them in perfectbalance—mindful of the past, ready for the future, and fully present inthe moment. because i think that's part of the problem. most people are eithercaught up in what could have been/what used to be; or fretting too much aboutthe future—mostly things over which they have no control.

i have this urge to do things with my son that i know he'stechnically not old enough for—like taking him to see the Christmas Spectacularat Radio City Music Hall, or bringing him to Disney World for his firstbirthday. common sense (not mine, per se—i have very little—but that of thegeneral consensus) says that it's a waste, he won't remember it, wait untilhe's older.

but then i think—well, i don't really let myself think whati'm thinking all the way, i just tell myself: why not now? why not? just because he won't remember the specifics, the timetogether, the new experience, the sense of adventure will stay with him for alifetime, won't it? it's more about the feelingthan the thing.

which i guess is what i'm trying to get at here—people are caught up in things; feelings are an afterthought.it's go here, do this, get that. not feel happy, share joy, laugh a little.how frustrating! again i ask: what is the point of life if at the end of it werealize all we've done is rush around and complain and feel sorry for ourselves and wishthings were different? that is no life!

i took Matthew to the movies on Saturday, to see It's a Wonderful Life at the IFC Centerin the Village. (we went last December, too, technically—he was a 24-week oldfetus fluttering in my belly.) there was a late-morning screening, which ifigured was a safe bet, so we went.

i admit i was a little apprehensive, not of how Matthewwould behave, but of what the other moviegoers would think when they saw mewalk in with a baby. of course, there were only four other people in thetheater the entire time. and one man in his sixties, who came in after me,noticed Matthew on my lap and winked at me and said, "that's right—start'em early." he went on to tell me that years ago, there was a revivalhouse in the East Village that showed double-features every day. as a divorceddad responsible for two little girls, he went there often. today, apparently,one of those girls is associated with the Hamptons Film Festival.

anyway, i appreciated what i took to be his support of metaking my baby to a movie. to wit, a classic movie iconic of the holidays withabout the best message imaginable—don'ttake your life for granted. yes, he slept through most of it, but it's a memory i'll have forever and it'll be a story i tell himsomeday and my point is—i swear i have one—don't wait. don't worry. don'tcomplain if you're not going to do something about it. don't do thingsautomatically or only because you think you should. instead, feel things. take a chance. hatch aplan. let go of whatever's weighing you down.

and: make as many memories as you can every day, because anyone'slife can be upended anytime. and the point of being aware of this is not tolive life paranoid; it's just simply to live life completely.

mbm

inspiration: a healthy life

2011-12-19T14:48:00.001-05:00

yep. it's Brian.

this is from my friend, Brian. we met in kindergarten, werefriends during the awesome birthday-parties-at-McDonald's years in the '80s,and then lost touch until about four years ago when Facebook reintroduced us.he is a total nutball—and my life is all the more richer because we're friendsagain.

lately, his Facebook posts (which used to be Howard Sternreferences and quotes from "The Office") have been almost entirelyabout health and fitness. this has been both inspiring and annoying to me—the latter only because i am finding it exceedingly challenging to get intoany sort of fitness routine as a mama. but once he becomes a personaltrainer—his current mission—i am going to insist he take me on pro bono andwhip me into shape. if anyone can do it, Brian can.

"I am an ex-smoker thanks to my son Aidan.

I was a person who would eat horribly and my health wasaffected by it, but that is all in the past thanks to my son Benjamin.

I used to be a person with very low self-esteem, but I am nolonger that person anymore thanks to my wife, Melissa.

These three people are the reason I love waking up in themorning. What they have done to my life is unreal. They have taught me the waysto become a better person and I am inspired by them on a daily basis.

I have found the joys of exercising and its unbelievable physicaland mental effects. I feel better at the age of 35 than I did when I was 20and, again, this all goes back to my three favorite people.

I found my ultimate physical strength earlier this yearthrough an event called Spartan Race*,which tested everything I had, both physically and mentally. Spartan Raceinspired me to train harder and work harder to achieve a huge goal—which is torun all three levels next year.

I am blessed to be surrounded by a loving family whoencourage me to follow my calling to become a personal trainer. I want otherpeople to feel as great as I do. I want to teach people how to dig down deepand find out just how strong they really are."

*if any of you want to find how strong you really are, join Brian's Spartanteam—he'd be thrilled. e-mail me and i'll connect you!

mbm

thank you, smoking loon pinot

2011-12-12T19:16:00.000-05:00

i had a really crazy day today, which i don't feel likerecounting right now, but i am finally home, on my couch. my little guy issound asleep next to me (in the same position as when i got home) and i'mthinking—judge me if you must—that there ain't a bad day in the world a glassof red wine, consumed at said day's closure, can't make better.

mbm

my horoscope today

2011-12-09T11:47:00.001-05:00

If it's your birthday...

Happy birthday, Sagittarius! You believe that you canachieve anything you desire. Your gift of ambition and action makes it possibleto manifest the life you want. This year, important events and surpriseopportunities can provide life-altering situations.

from the NY Daily News. i dare say it's true...!

mbm

an old lady's rant

2011-12-08T16:07:00.001-05:00

i was in the drug store earlier and saw the current issue ofCosmo on the rack at the checkout andsort of wanted to cry. most of the coverlines were about sex, naturally. that'sexpected—ridiculous, but at least expected. but then there was one at the bottom right: "Dragging Ass Lately? SevenNew Energy Boosting Tricks." i cringed. draggingass? is it really necessary to use those words?

all i could think about was that the magazines i read when i was ateenager—YM, Seventeen, Teen—areprobably now read by nine year olds (er, make that just Seventeen, since it's the only one left). and fifteen year olds are probably buying Cosmo and reading articles entitled"Dragging Ass Lately?" i'm totally an old fart grown-up now because i'mfeeling wistful about the stories i used to read—like "How to Have a HappyHaircut" (see above, right). why have we veered so far from that kind ofinnocence and normalcy? why is it necessary to be all "edgy" (in quotes because iimagine the editorial meetings in which these coverlines are decided upon andi'm sure "Feeling Tired?" or "Lacking Energy?" were deniedin favor of something the senior editors felt was edgier like "Dragging Ass?").

and i mean, come on—just look at the covers side by side. could Niki Taylor be wearing any more clothing in that shot? she's wearing a tie for pete's sake. meanwhile, Scar Jo (or whatever she's called) is—well, in all honesty, i suppose it's one of the more modest Cosmo covers. but even so—she's all sexed up, for no reason other than to make girls feel that they need to be sexed up, too, and Cosmo is just the resource to show them how.

this is one little partof the growing sense of anxiety and dismay i have about where we're collectivelyheaded. truly, literally, anythinggoes today. no one bats an eyelash at a goddamn thing. cursing on TV? psh. Mariah Carey lusting after Justin Bieber on a family-themed Christmas special? whatevs! magazine coverlines about as lazy and tactless as they come? why not!

Cole Porter is rollingover in his grave.

i wish, i hope, i pray for someone—anyone!—to slam on thebreaks, turn this boat around and return a sense of decorum to the country. thisis my motto for the new year—i'm having tee shirts and pencils made—CLASS, NOTCRASS.

are you with me?

mbm

an open letter to my dad

2011-12-08T12:24:00.001-05:00

dear dad,

remember when you were giving me a hard time last weekendabout claiming to be 'so tired'? and you said that when you and mom had Matthewfor two nights, he slept like an angel, that you just let him babble himselfback to sleep when he perked up four a.m.? remember when you called yourselfthe Baby Whisperer? (okay, maybe that didn't happen but that was vibe you weresending.)

well, next time Matty has a cold, i will send him to yourhouse, so you can experience the real life of a mama. i was up until midnightlast night having a nice, meaningful conversation with my husband. normally iwouldn't do something so insane as staying up past nine-thirty, but how oftendo i get to have meaningful conversations with my husband anymore? hardly ever.so i went with it. i knew Matty wasn't feeling well, but the humidifier andBaby Vicks combo seemed to be doing the trick. so off to bed i went. actually,it was closer to twelve-thirty when my head finally hit the pillow. about an hourlater, Matty was crying. and coughing. and crying.

i brought him into bed with me, because i knew i had to beup at six o'clock, since i had to be out the door before eight a.m. to make anine o'clock meeting at work, and whoo boy did i need sleep. unfortunately,sleep was not on the agenda for my poor, stuffed-up boy. after about an hour ofcuddling and rubbing his head and praying to god to let the kid fall asleep, itook him into the bathroom, turned on the shower as hot as it would go and saton the floor with him as the room turned into a sauna.

next, i went at him with the nasal aspirator. he wasdesperate for a good cleaning-out, but who wants to have something stuck uptheir nose at three in the morning? not anyone i know, including my son. but ithad to be done. so there was a lot of thrashing and whining and pleading (on mypart) and apologies (on my part). i did the best that i could and back to bedwe went—even the bedroom windows had steamed up at this point. i proppedMatty's head up on a pillow and looped my arm around him and waited for sleepto come.

it took fifteen minutes of watching Sesame Street Playgroundon my iPhone and three songs from Josh Groban's Christmas album before thekiddo finally drifted off. it was probably another thirty minutes before icould sleep—fretting as i was that i would have to get through an entire day ofwork (and our after-work holiday shindig) on about two hours of sleep.

i was thinking of you this morning, dad, when my alarm clockwent off and my body felt numb with exhaustion. Matty was sound asleep next tome and i was thankful for that, but i also would have given anything to curl uparound him and go back to sleep myself. instead, i had to wake him up and gethim fed and changed and bathed—and get myself fed and changed and bathed—beforeeight o'clock.

i signed up for this, one hundred percent. i'm not lookingfor sympathy or an award or even a pat on the back. i love taking care of myson and i will do whatever it takes to ensure his health and happiness everyday for the rest of my life. but—don't tell me needing toothpicks to hold up myeyelids some days is an exaggeration.

i've got one holding up each lid right now.

mbm

inspiration: finding a niche

2011-12-08T11:44:00.001-05:00

rosey posey taking good care of my matty

this was written by my cousin, Rose, currently in school studying to become an occupational therapist. she has about a big a heart as anyone i know. she texts me regularly to see how Matty is doing and keeps me in the loop about new recipes she makes and the various ways she uses truffle butter. i love her dearly and it makes me so happy to see her on such a good track toward a profession i know is perfect for her.

"These last few months of school have been by far the hardestI've had. Lately, I feel so burnt-out and am struggling to find the motivationto study and write papers beyond the necessary means to get the grade I need tostay in my program. I find inspiration through many people—my professors, myclassmates, my mother, other family members and experiences I have had withpeople who have a disability.

I cannot stand some of my professors and I am convinced theycreate assignments to watch us squirm. However, they are so extremelyknowledgeable it scares the crap out of me for the future. How can one personpossibly remember that many disorders and that many nerves and that manytreatments and that many theories? Also, they are so passionate about what theydo. One of my professors is leaving in two weeks and I was not surprised. Whenhe tells stories about clients you can just see his eyes light up and itsobvious teaching does not give him the same thrill. I want that feeling andstories to tell about lives I've changed by just doing my job.

My classmates and I have been together for a year and half,every single day. I feel like we are in a relationship, and we kind of are. Wesupport each other, help each other out when someone is struggling, or having abad day, or is in desperate need of Starbucks.

My mother is the person who first introduced OccupationalTherapy to me when I was a confused senior in high school and planning to be apsychology major. Seven years later she is still my number one supporter andbiggest fan. Still, at 24, I get excited to text her about a good grade. Mostof all, my mother has always worked hard to provide the best for my sisters andme and to set a good example of how to be an independent woman. She will bejust as happy as I am when this journey is over and I can sign my name RoseCuomo, OTR/L—if not happier! I am grateful everyday to my mother for puttingthe idea of OT in my head. I truly do not know what else I would be doing.

My dear boyfriend Mike inspires me to keep going when I amon the verge of a nervous breakdown. He is there for my accomplishments andtells me I am weird for pissing and moaning about getting a B+ not the A. Hereminds me how lucky I am to actually know what I want to do when I grow up andbe on my way there. While he doesn't share the same desire to help people likeI do (regardless of how many times I try to get him to go into disability law),he understands and encourages me along the way. Mike also listens to me yap forhours about internships, classmate gossip, crazy professors and pretends tounderstand medical terminology.

When I was applying for Occupational Therapy programs my senior year of highschool, I wrote an essay about how having a disability not only affects thechild, but the entire family. It was based on the kids I used to babysit for—oneof them was autistic—and how their mother, Colleen, handled it. I lovedColleen, and over the seven years I babysat for her family I became a part ofit. I was there before John was diagnosed and there through his OT treatments.I watched John change, as well as his mother. There were many days she cried tome about her son and days when her son made mecry. John received early intervention and has OT in school and is doingremarkably well. I still keep in contact with the family and Colleenalways reassures me that I am doing a great thing.

My journey is not done just yet and I am excited to learnand experience even more. Being in this field has already made me a nicer, morecompassionate and patient person and I'm anxiously awaiting to see who I willbecome in the next year and a half."

mbm

pudding surprise

2011-12-06T17:42:00.001-05:00

when i was at myparents' on Saturday night, my mom made a pot roast for dinner. it was only after we finished eating that we realized we had nothing—gasp!—for dessert.

i get my sweet tooth from my dad and usually i'mclamoring as much as anyone for something sweet after a meal, but i was prettyfull that evening and didn't mind not having dessert. my dad, however—not so much. about ten minutes after hebemoaned aloud the fact that there wasnothing sweet to nosh on, i heard my mother—culinary mastermind—in the kitchen,operating a whisk.

"whatcha doin', mom?" i called from the familyroom.

"nothing!" she said. "just making dessert.don't worry. you'll see."

i turned to my dad, who was next to me on the couch."you're a spoiled brat." i imagined she was whipping up some cakethat only took ten minutes to bake or brownies she could cook in the microwave.

but a few minutes later she appeared in the family room, carryingtwo fancy glasses filled with...dessert. she handed one to my dad and put theother on the coffee table in front of me. the concoction was mostly white orcream-colored, and i noticed red and green sprinkles on the top.

"what is this?" my dad asked, amusedly.

"white chocolate pudding," my mom said. "withwhipped cream on top. and some other things."

my dad didn't hesitate before digging in."mmffphh," he managed with a full mouth. "there are cookies inhere, too, right?"

"nougat candy," my mom corrected him. "thoseitalian candies i have in the jar." (she has a few gigantic apothecaryjars on display in a room off the kitchen and they're always filled with somekind of candy or other.)

i had a sound-asleep Matthew in my arms while all this wasgoing on and so eating dessert was not going to be an easy task; and that wasjust as well, since i was getting a belly ache just watching my dad spoon mymom's creation into his mouth. it was quiet for a while and then:

"oh! what's that? are there gum drops in heretoo?"

i burst out laughing. white chocolate pudding, whippedcream, Christmas sprinkles, Italian nougat candy and spiced gum drops? even i, the lifelong sugar fiend, could notstomach it.

my dad, on the other hand—he finished every last bit.

i stared warily at the full fancy glass of the pudding-gumdrop elixir on the table in front of me. then i looked at my mom. "i thinki'll let you wrap this up so dad can enjoy it tomorrow night."

the next morning i saw the glass, covered in Saran wrap, onthe top shelf in the fridge. the green of the gum drops had bled into thepudding around it and the whipped cream on top was deflated. it looked likesomething a little kid would have concocted (actually, it reminded me of thatone Thanksgiving episode of Friends whenRachel made a trifle and wound up putting meat in it because the pages of hercookbook were stuck together).

my mom is quite brilliant in the kitchen, even on the fly,but all i could think, staring at that goop-filled glass, was how glad i was tohave overcome (however temporarily) my need for dessert.

i really think i dodged a bullet there.

mbm

inspiration: giving back

2011-12-06T10:57:00.001-05:00

kate bonding with (a very little) matty!

this was written by my friend, Kate. we go waaay back—all the way to kindergarten,just like Antoinette. but Kate and i really bonded, i think, in high school. wedid all the shows together (she danced, i 'acted')—and then we both moved toNew York (she came here for college, i came here after). she's really, reallyawesome and, as you'll see, possesses an extremely generous spirit.

"Lately, I have realized that I love myneighborhood and being part of the local community. From community serviceprojects that beautify a local community, to ushering at the local theatre—evenspending a Saturday cleaning at the local cat shelter (yes, I said catshelter). There was a leaf-raking project I went to in Astoria parkon Saturday, and I was just so happy to rake leaves and put them in trash bags,haha! In the summer, there are a few projects where you pick up trash in the parkand the Astoria waterfront. It just makes me feel good to give back to thecommunity I live in and meet others that also love it so much.

I know that feeling you talk about—I feel that way sometimeswalking from the train in Astoria...contentment, inspiration and overall happinesswith where I'm at in life. I don't feel that way ALL the time, but Inotice it a lot when I am walking in my neighborhood."

mbm

inspiration: family

2011-12-05T22:29:00.001-05:00

i call her George. just because.

from my friend Antoinette, whom i've known since kindergarten. (we used to play mini golf together on Friday nights and i think neither of us would have survived eighth grade without the other.) she's fantastic. clearly.

"Ok, so you asked and I just feel compelled to answer. Whatinspires me? My family.

I have parents that were, very simply, the best parents forme. They gave me love, confidence, support and a swift kick in the ass whenneeded. They taught me to always believe in myself. With my mother's currentfight against MS and my dad's own struggle to deal with her condition and actas her primary caregiver, they continue to teach me.

My husband is my very best friend. He is strong when I amweak. He is unselfish, brave, smart, committed, loving and hysterical. Hisdedication to me and to our children is what gets me through each day.

My son has one of the kindest hearts I know. To see him justbeing him is pretty remarkable. He has a sense of himself that I never did—he'smore mature at 13 than I am at 35. He is just an old soul and I couldn't askfor a better son.

My daughter: if parenting is earning a college degree, I amgetting my masters with her. She makes me appreciate everything I do that comesso easily and everything she does that comes with so many challenges for her. Fromthe very beginning she was given a series of can'ts that we work hard to turninto cans one at a time, no matter how long it takes. She teaches me about lifeevery day, simply through her desire to live it. It's ironic because manypeople think a special needs child is a burden, a worst-case-scenario type ofdeal—certainly not the baby jackpot—but I would say, for me, that couldn't befurther from the truth. She honestly gives me more than I could ever give toher. I am lucky to be her mother, her nurse, her teacher, her advocate, hervoice.... I am lucky to be whatever she needs me to be.

This may not be what you are looking for; certainly ourfamily's journey is not for everyone. But it's tailor-made for me. Attimes its hard, and painful and downright exhausting, but it has rewards thatare priceless. I don't have a big house, my dream job, a fancy car or a ton ofmoney, but I wouldn't trade my life for anything!"

mbm

inspiration point (audience participation required!)

2011-12-05T17:11:00.001-05:00

the Christmas parade i took Matty to on Saturday atPeddler's Village in Lahaska, Pennsylvania, was—no joke—about four minuteslong. there was a high school color guard waving red and green flags, and ahigh school marching band in their white uniforms and Santa hats. then therewas a Daisy troop and a Brownie troop and a slew of proud, frazzled parentsacting as wranglers. there were a few Victorian-dressed singers and then athree-man pep band, followed by an elf on stilts. the man of the hour, SantaClaus himself, brought up the rear, riding in a white convertible Ford Mustangwith his lovely wife, Mrs. Claus, by his side.

and that was it. really, it was nothing to write home about.but as i stood there watching the procession, next to my dad who had hisprecious grandson in his arms, i felt like i was on the verge of tears. happytears. it was the strangest thing. i was moved—i was plain-and-simply moved—by this silly, completely amateurparade.

it was just so real, you know? so pure. i'm being impossiblysentimental, i know, but it's how i felt. just to see the pride and excitementon the band geeks' faces as they marched by and to see the little Daisy scoutsshuffling along dressed as Christmas stockings and to hear the shrieks of thelittle kids in the crowd when Santa went by...there was nothing chic or posh oraffected about any of it. and i loved it.

as i drove on to my parents' house later that afternoon,with Matty sound asleep in his car seat behind me, and Christmas music playingon the radio, and the setting sun throwing orange streaks across the sky, ifelt a lightness in my chest that i know well but can never really put myfinger on. i'm starting to think it's a combination of exhilaration,inspiration and contentment.

i've been thinking so much lately—well, always, really—aboutwhere i am most myself. what is my true calling in life? what fills me up andmakes me whole, as opposed to the things and people and places that drain thelife out of me? i think so often we're trapped in the flow of day-to-dayoperations that we don't even think to stop to check ourselves, to make surewe're okay and really living, not just getting by.

i'm starting to take notice now of how and when my friendsare inspired. one friend i've known since kindergarten has recently decided topursue personal training and has been using Facebook to encourage and motivateothers—and it's working. another friend from way back started his own theatrecompany out of a desire to inspire others through musicals. one of my closestfriends nearly spontaneously combusts when she talks about math and new ways toteach it to kids—god knows i don't understand it, but i know that it allthrills her.

i would love to know what inspires you. and i would love toshare that information here, in the hopes of inspiring others to, you know, getinspired. these things are contagious, i believe, and it's time to startspreading the good stuff instead of the bad stuff, don't you think?

so: will you e-mail me? megalbagel(at)comcast(dot)net. itcan be two lines of two pages. tell me what makes you happiest, what gets youmoving, where you feel most yourself. (i can keep it anonymous if you'rebashful.) whatever inspires you, please share!

mbm

five-thing fridays

2011-12-02T11:46:00.001-05:00

it's Friday—get messy!

sorry for missing last week!

- the Christmasspirit! it's December 2nd and it's fullon, baby, despite the existence of that vile Mariah Carey-Justin Bieber video. {shudder} i'm really excited for tonight, which is our family ChristmasKick-Off event. we're getting our tree, ordering a pizza, drinking some wineand watching Christmas movies while we decorate. then tomorrow i'm taking mykiddo to see Santa Claus at Peddler's Village in PA—i used to go there everyyear at Christmastime when i was little. i know Matthew won't remember a lickof this, but i will and i'll be able to tell him all about his first Christmasseason someday, and how awesome it was.

- being vindicated.can't share all the details of this particular bit of gratitude, but the lessoni've learned is to never give up, even when people are trying to knock you downand mess with your head. if you know you're right, find a way to prove it. theend.

- Parenthood. i know, i just used thisone a couple weeks ago, but this week i am particularly grateful for thecharacter of Kristina on Parenthood.i don't know about you, but i am so sickof the attention given to various female celebrities who manage to 'bounceback' from pregnancy in three weeks. it'snot normal! it's probably not natural! and in most cases it's definitely not healthy! anyway,Kristina had a baby earlier this season (or was it the end of last season?yikes) and the show's portrayal of everything from her emotional postpartum mish-moshto the insecurities she has about her body (especially compared to that of thenew twentysomething, 36DD-endowed receptionist at her husband Adam's place ofwork) to her feelings of invisibility and total and utter exhaustion is completelypitch-perfect. sometimes we watch TV to escape reality, but boy, sometimes it'scomforting to see TV reflect your own real life, isn't it?

- (certain thingsabout) being a grown up. i'm a week away from turning thirty-five and i am,shamefully, having a bit of trouble with it. thirty-five just sounds so muchmore grown-up than i feel. it's creating a bit of incongruity in my brain. butrather than indulge in an all-out freak-out, i'm trying to focus on the perksof adulthood. today i'm contemplating a truly random one: drinking Diet Coke atbreakfast. i know i'm not the only one who craves the artificially-sweeteneddark bubbly elixir in the morning. it's a beautiful thing! it's cold (sometimesyou just don't want a hot drink first thing), it's caffeinated (hell) and it'scalorie-free! i first discovered the joys of the bagel-and-diet-Coke breakfastat college. to this day, a whole wheat bagel with veggie cream cheese and a20-ounce bottle of diet Coke is still my favorite morning meal. and it's somethingthat never would have flown when i was a kid. so—yay for adulthood. i'm surethere are other perks. i'll try to think of them.

- my son. lastnight he came thisclose to crawling. i felt like i was watching the Yankees oneout away from winning the World Series, i was so excited. from a sittingposition, Matty got one leg behind him, but couldn't get the other one tocooperate. the kiddo looked like he was doing yoga, he was so twisted up. iwatched with bated breath as he tried to work it out, but alas, instead ofpropelling himself forward, he rolled to the side and then onto his belly. still—my buttons were bursting withpride just watching him get so close to a huge milestone. this motherhood stuffis beyond thrilling, i can't even explain!

happy weekend!

mbm

a new way to give back: TYPOS FOR KIDDOS!

2011-11-30T09:44:00.001-05:00

this is an example of a 'humdinger' as spotted
by moi in Target

i had this random, lack-of-sleep-fueled idea and i want totry it. will you help me? keep reading....

i don't know about you, but in the course of a day'sreading—online, in magazines, store signs, TV news graphics, etc.—i come uponmany typos of all kinds. this simultaneously drives me bonkers and gives megreat pleasure. ~~i wonder often if anyone is else catching these carelesserrors, or if i'm the only grammar nerd out there~~. bahahaha! thanks dad for catching MY typo. how embarrassing! but i guess i proved my own point. ahem: i wonder often if anyone else is catching these careless errors or if i'm the only grammar nerd out there.

i was also recently thinking about ways to help friends ofours who had a baby boy a few months ago. the little guy was born with anextremely—i mean, extremely—rarecondition and he can't leave CHOP (the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia, atruly amazing place) until he receives an organ transplant. this breaks my heart on so manylevels, now that i'm a mama, and though the little guy is tough and apparentlysurprising doctors on a daily basis, i still feel the urge to help in some way—both this precious baby boy and all the little ones at CHOP.

thus the idea for TYPOS FOR KIDDOS! was born.

right now you're thinking wha??? here's the deal: put your grammar nerd glasses on and getreading. whenever you come across a typo of any kind—and believe me, youwill—send it to me. either take a picture of it with your iPhone, take a screenshot if it's online, or send me a link, post it to Typos for Kiddos' Facebook page or even snail-mail it to me. for eachmistake spotted and sent to me during the entire month of December—which startstomorrow, kids!—i will donate to CHOP according to the list below:

spelling errors: $1each

misuse (or lack) ofpunctuation: $2 each

missing words: $3each

overall piss-poorsentence structure: $4 each (this is a bit more subjective, but i know ihave readers who will be able to spot these easily!)

total, full-onhumdingers: $5 each (this includes wrong headlines, blatantly incorrect facts, double entendres, etc.)

all you have to do is a little copy editing! is there aneasier way to give back this holiday season? i don't think so. all through December, i will post weekly updates as tothe amount of money we've raised. on January 1, 2012, i will write a check to CHOPfor the total amount and send it on its way.

**if anyone out there has deep pockets, is friends with afantastic philanthropist or would personally like to volunteer to match theamount raised, that would be completely awesome.**

so, that's the scoop. are you in? i hope so! if you have anyquestions, want to send typos or just want to say hello, e-mail me atmegalbagel(at)comcast(dot)net.

thanks in advance for your enthusiasm and participation!happy proofing!

mbm

autumncholy

2011-11-29T16:30:00.001-05:00

the day after Thanksgiving, Michael told me he was feelingmelancholy. it was nothing serious, just a feeling he couldn't quite put hisfinger on. driving around Pennsylvania, he said, seeing the way thecloud-filtered sunlight hit the trees and the houses filled him with a strangesort of wistfulness. i said i understood, but i didn't really, not until thenext afternoon when i took Matthew out in his stroller. the weather feltspring-like, but the streaky-gray skies were all autumn. as we walked along thesidewalks on which i rode my bike as a kid, past the various corners that usedto be my bus stops, gazing at the houses where my friends lived so many yearsago, i was filled with the same kind of melancholy. in an instant, i knewexactly what Michael was feeling the day before.

it is a strangekind of feeling, and it seems to be tied specifically to autumn, at least forme. i used to know the feeling well, back in the days when i rode New JerseyTransit buses frequently, either between the city and my apartment inRidgefield Park a decade ago, or back and forth to my gram's house in MorrisCounty. i would stare out the window as the bus lumbered along two-lanehighways lined with aging strip malls, or residential streets carpeted withbrown, brittle leaves dispatched from overarching oak trees. every town the buspassed through seemed like it was sagging. some people might have found thescenery depressing, but i loved it. i felt comforted by it, even though somehowit gave me a dull ache deep down, almost like a homesickness—but it also felt like home. i couldn't quite explainit or understand it.

anyway, it all came back to me on Saturday afternoon. and asMatty and i took our walk, i was thinking about how fast it's all going—themonths, the seasons, life. years ago i had so much time to think and reflectand soak it all in. too much time, probably. and, as a result, the days seemedto go on and on. i was always anticipating something else, a date sometime inthe future. now i look at the calendar and can't believe i've crossed offnearly another month-full of days. autumn is ending and i can't even rememberit beginning.

the fleetingness of time seems to be highlighted at thistime of year. for example, our Thanksgiving was lovely, but especiallyephemeral. maybe that's what Michael was feeling on Friday. we were so excitedabout our kiddo's first turkey day and it really was great. but it seemed oneminute we were in our PJs watching the Macy's parade; the next we were rubbingour tired eyes and bemoaning how much we overate (or, in Michael's case, eagerlyawaiting the first chance to tear into leftovers).

we were even talking on Thanksgiving with my relatives abouthow, when we were all kids, Christmas seemed to take forever to arrive. as adults it's like, 'Christmas again?' but that's just how it goes,right? nearly all of our time is sucked up by stuff—things to do, things to remember, things to get, things toclean, things to make—and time gets lost in the shuffle. days, weeks, entiremonths—just gone.

is there a way to revert to the mindset we had as kids? isthere any possible way to get that back, without completely abandoning ouradult responsibilities? because i would really love that. i would make that mymajor goal in life, if someone could tell me how.

mbm

kiss off

2011-11-22T15:39:00.001-05:00

i attended a meeting this morning at work to present aproject our team has been working on for quite a while. the group we werepresenting to gathers monthly to discuss diversity at our company. before webegan our presentation, the group's leader passed around a photocopied articlefrom last Friday's WWD, all about therecent Benetton "Unhate" ad campaign.

if you haven't seen or heard about it, the campaign features(or, featured; the campaign waspretty quickly pulled from all publications) various Photoshopped images ofpeople kissing. people like Barack Obama and Hu Jintao; the president ofPalestine and the prime minister of Israel; the Pope and the grand imam ofAl-Azhar.

contrary to Benetton's usual MO (ahem), the images areextremely provocative. apparently they're very offensive, too, if you read thestatements issued by the parties depicted in the campaign. of course theVatican and the White House have to object, and Benetton had to pull the ads, buthow refreshing would it be if everyone focused on (and embraced) the idea behind the campaign.

personally, i love it. i think it's pretty much the best wayto illustrate the hope of, well, Benetton's team, i suppose, but of so manypeople in the world. just put your freakin' differences aside and stop hatingon each other. what a great example world leaders would set for, say, teenbullies if they were more accepting of each other.

anyway, the leader of the meeting this morning was hoping tospark a conversation about the ads and the message they're trying to convey, asit relates to diversity. but everyone seemed a little nervous or uncomfortableby them. the conversation died pretty quick.

keep at it, Benetton. eventually the world will listen.

mbm

you go, sookie

2011-11-22T09:08:00.001-05:00

"Do I sometimes hope I wake up in the morning andpeople are like, 'What's wrong with her? She looks emaciated.' Of course Iwould love that. I'm such a clothes whore I would love the opportunity to be ahanger. But I think I'm more confident than I've ever felt in my life. I alwaysthought it was worth the fight. Now I know it is."

—Melissa McCarthy (LOVE HER),

onher feelings about others' feelingsabout her weight

year two

2011-11-21T11:18:00.001-05:00

newly minted.

if you want to see how solid your marriage is, get pregnantand start looking for a home before your first anniversary. then, before yoursecond anniversary, start paying a mortgage and raising a baby while bothworking full-time (and on opposite schedules).

some days—many days—it may seem as though you either A)aren't married at all (spouse? i have a spouse? where is he/she?) or B) were completely deranged when you agreed to getmarried in the first place (toothpaste in the sink, socks on the floor, whoruns the dishwasher when it's not completely full, who forgets to order morebaby formula, who's taking up all the DVR space, who goes to Target too often,etc.)

but then, of course, you have days—many days, but neverenough—that you actually get to spend together, that border on magical, they'reso perfect. pretty quick you remember oh,that's why i married you! you'repretty darn awesome!

two years ago your biggest worry was remembering all thedance steps the instructor taught you for your first dance, "It Had to BeYou." today, well, your worries are muchdifferent. but neither of you would rewind time and do anything differently(well, except that maybe you would have stayedin Aruba permanently, made a career out of honeymooning; everyone would haveunderstood) because, as always, everything that happened in the last two yearslead you to this perfect moment from Saturday night: you were eating a'romantic' and celebratory anniversary dinner at home (wine, candles,meatballs) with a special guest—your sweet, funny seven-month old, who waseating his own dinner (lentils and brown rice out of a jar—mmm) in his highchair. suddenly he made a noise you'd never heard before and, after determininghe wasn't choking, it seemed that perhaps he was trying to imitate his daddy'slaugh. the more you giggled at him, the more he tried out his new, staccatolaugh. this went on until you were in tears and your stomachs ached fromlaughing.

and, wow, if that isn't about the best feeling in the world—theknowledge that your love, for all its ups and downs, trials and tribulations,created this perfect little person who not only lights up your lives, but brings joy to everyone he encounters (recentexamples: just this weekend, the woman he reduced to giggles in Hallmark andthe woman who called him 'beautiful' in the grocery store). he's a constant reminderof everything that's good and right between the two of you. and, hey, sometimesyou need a reminder.

two years down, the rest of your lives to go. it's notalways easy, but you know in your heart the fun is just beginning...

mbm

five-thing fridays

2011-11-18T16:43:00.001-05:00

© mbm 11.13.11

[in my defense, i did start writing this on Friday. i just got really, really busy before i finished.]

1. Starbucks freebies—todayis buy-one-get-one-free holiday drink day! a few co-workers and i tookadvantage, though the Starbucks we went to didn't have skim milk, so we wereforced to get not the Skinny Peppermint Mochas, but the two-percent milkversions. and, hell, might as well throw the whipped cream on, too...

2. Parenthood—thebest show on television, in my humble opinion. watching the latest episode onDVR is one of the things i look forward to most every week (time with my sonexcluded, of course). this week i watched on Wednesday, after Matty went tobed. just me, a glass of wine, some dark-chocolate-covered almonds and theBravermans. love.

3. getting into thespirit—i know i just railed against starting the Christmas season too soon,but i have to admit that i love when the city gets in the spirit. the Fifth Ave snowflake is already hung, the Plaza is decked out in greenery and lights, the Salvation Army guy is outside Crate & Barrel on Madison and 59th... you can't deny the magic.

4. the guy in the lobby—there's this maintenance guy who works in my office building, an older gent with a kind face and a quick smile. i know it sucks that i don't know his name, but he doesn't know mine either, and it hasn't prevented us from forming a friendship of sorts. we greet each other every morning, he asks, 'how's the baby?' quite often and he's always got a grin for me. one morning last week i was running late and when he spotted me rushing for the elevator he said, 'there she is!' is it weird that i find his presence comforting?

5. my son—have i mentioned that he knows how to turn on and off the light switch in his bedroom? he's a genius. every morning i carry him over to the wall where the switch is and say, "turn on the light for mama," and he reaches out his little hand and presses the switch (it's one of those flat light switch things, not a classic one). when we leave the room, i say, "turn off the light for mama," and he reaches out his hand again and flips the switch. like i said: genius.

hope you had a great weekend!
mbm

autumn morning

2011-11-17T17:04:00.001-05:00

before the weather turned frigid and soggy, the morning was quite beautiful—if you love gray, late-autumn days like i do. snapped these on my way to work:

mbm

i hate people

2011-11-17T11:28:00.001-05:00

i know that seems harsh, but when i read things like thebelow, which i just saw on nymag.com, i really really do. some people. people who have total loss of perspective and make life difficult for everyone else just for the sake of making life difficult for everyone else.

Update, 10:30 a.m: A group of protestors is headed back toZuccotti; another is ensconced on Wall Street. Police say about 60 protestorshave been arrested this a.m. There was a scuffle on William Street, asdemonstrators took over the street, but it's now been cleared. Meanwhile, therewere several arrests outside Trinity Church; one woman there spilled her teawhile she was being arrested, then grabbed the container and threw the liquidon two cops. The church is also playing host to several topless women, who saythey're protesting the treatment of women at Zuccotti Park.

aren't they embarrassedby their behavior? where are their parents?!? gaaah!

mbm

AND she's in a movie with the Muppets

2011-11-15T15:28:00.001-05:00

“I read about these actresses who get on a stationary biketwo weeks after giving birth and I’m like, ‘What? Where did you push your babyout of?’ Since having Aviana, I have a muffin top, and that’s OK right now.”

—Amy Adams (whom i now love even more)

mbm

bullseye

2011-11-15T15:13:00.001-05:00

in case you don't know me well and aren't aware of myfeelings on the issue, i am a firm believer in one holiday at a time. and by that i mean: noThanksgiving merchandise in the stores weeks before Halloween; no Christmasdecorations up before Thanksgiving; no Valentine's candy in stores on Christmas Eve. it takes away the specialness of eachseason.

(i have such fond memories of anticipating, for several years during mychildhood, December first, when neighbors on the next street over would flipthe switch on their magnificent Christmas lights display. i would stand on thecouch below the back window in the family room and gaze at the spectacle withawe and wonder. i can guarantee it wouldn't have had the same magic if theyturned on the lights, say, on November first.)

to be clear, i have nothing against Christmas. i actually love Christmas. but i also love Thanksgiving, and it is totallygetting lost in the shuffle. and i discovered this morning, via the news, thati am not the only one who feels this way.

have you heard about the employee uprising in response to thenews that Target stores will be opening at midnight on Black Friday? originally,the stores were set to open at 5 a.m., but that plan was changedto accommodate "our guests' wants and needs," according to TargetVIPs. now upwards of 85,000 Target workers have joined the online protest in aneffort to get corporate to change its mind. i sincerely hope these peoplesucceed.

as the campaign creator, Anthony Hardwick of Nebraska, soeloquently said: "A full holiday with family is not just for the eliteof this nation—all Americans should be able to break bread with loved ones andget a good night's rest on Thanksgiving!"

never mind the fact that this guy isn't even scheduled towork on Black Friday. i think he's just (understandably!) frustrated by themixed-up priorities in this country. it baffles me that people seemingly lookforward more to being the first one in line outside Best Buy or racing throughthe doors of Macy's at the stroke of midnight Friday than enjoying time withtheir loved ones and reflecting on all that they're thankful for onThanksgiving day.

you go, Target employees! Charlie Brown would be proud!

mbm

file under "get a life"

2011-11-15T12:34:00.001-05:00

from an article in the New York Daily News about the recent clearing out of Zuccotti Park and subsequent firing-up of so-called Occupy Wall Street-ers.

"It's still on. It'll be bigger than ever. People are mobilizing now. They're wounded now and preparing for comeback," said Matt Baldwin.

wounded? are you serious? being evacuated from a public park in which crazy people are living—and making a mess—while calling it 'protesting' does not equal wounded.

STOP WHINING! GO HOME! GET A JOB!

mbm

very special birthday wishes

2011-11-15T12:20:00.001-05:00

my dad probably still has that shirt

it's my dad's birthday today. he is sixty-three. while mostmen his age might feel wary of being another year older, my father is lookingeagerly ahead to sixty-five. he saidso on Saturday when i saw him. why? "MEDICARE!" he practicallyshouted. "WE GET MEDICARE!"

okay, then.

dad, you always taught me not to look too far ahead. when i usedto say things like, "i can't wait 'til Christmas!" or "how manymore days until summer?" you would tell me, "don't wish my lifeaway!" (and that was back when you were working!) so, my birthday wish for you today is to thoroughly enjoyand relish these next twenty-four months of your life. while you may lackMedicare, you have so many things to enjoy in the meantime, such as:

the professional-level culinary talents of your wife (who,if she isn't doing laundry or shopping on Amazon, is always fixing you a meal)
countless hours of cookie-cutter crime dramas courtesy ofCBS and the USA network
the eternal (coughfutilecough) mission to one day develop aconsistently accurate golf swing
the possibility that Eli is, after all, an elite QB
that maybe someday in the near future your backyard willmake the cover of Garden Railways magazine
the many charms and overall adorability of your handsomegrandson, Bubs
more commercials from the creative geniuses behind theE-Trade and Progressive Insurance campaigns, which tickle your funny bone so
many more sandwiches from Luca Brasi
several (one would hope) more seasons of Glee
the occasional, highly-anticipated company of yours truly—thedaughter you raised to be a smart-ass, not sincere

you're the best, dad! happy two-years-til-MEDICAID! i loveyou very much.

mbm

five thing fridays

2011-11-11T15:12:00.001-05:00

"hello, handsome."

this week is tougher than the last two, peeps. but here wego. five things i'm thankful for:

my husband: i amthankful for him always (i am!) but this week especially. he's been onvacation, which is just so nice. life is better when he's around, no question.and i did a lot of venting this week, too, which he listened to patiently (andtook my side). and then yesterday he created a meal for dinner, which he cookedin our Crock Pot, and did the groceryshopping, and cleaned the kitchen. healso rocked Matty to sleep when my efforts failed. i would be lost without thisguy. i am dreading his return to a normal ("normal") work schedule onSunday.

diet Coke: i aman unapologetic addict. i'm not drinking, like, six cans a day or anything. buti admit to two-a-day a few times this week. it rivals pinot as my go-to comfortdrink. and, of the two, it's the only one i can consume while at work.

confident, competentpeople: they're few and far between, it seems, so when i come across one,i'm ever-so-grateful. (yes, that was snark disguised as gratitude.)

Shawn Colvin:random, i know, but i love her music.we saw her at City Winery last Sunday (we also saw her in March at WilliamPaterson College in NJ, which was just not the right venue or crowd, so iwanted a do-over). even though she didn't play "This Must Be thePlace" (her version has special meaning to me), i still loved watching herperform and her albums are pretty much all i've listened to all week. i go to the trouble like a light/or like adare/trouble is just a friend to me, i know/it'll always be there... love.

my son: eventhough he has robbed me blind of hours of sleep this week, i cannot hold itagainst him. before Sunday, he'd never experienced the 'fall back' phenomenonbefore, for one; and those damn teeth will notcome out, for two. this morning—eeaaarrrly this morning—as he lay with me inbed, he ran his warm little hand across my cheek over and over. he does thiswith everyone, he's big into touching faces (and examining dental work); butthis morning, the way he stroked my face was about the sweetest thing ever. andthen—then!—i had him in his Bumbo onmy dresser while i did my make-up. he is loving mirrors at the moment,specifically his reflection (which he gets from his dad!), and in the midst ofbusily studying his face this morning, he started blowing raspberries! i'vebeen blowing them at him since he was born, and he finally got the hang of ittoday. i love that he does somethingnew every day. movies shmovies. he's all the entertainment i need.

work ≠ life

2011-11-10T16:23:00.001-05:00

i haven't been keeping up with my Lifeclass viewing—gasp—but have all episodes on our DVR, so i will be catching up. i did, however,catch about five minutes of last night's class and it seemed to be all abouttaking a deep breath and slowing the hell down, because life is precious andyou never know when you'll either be thrown a horrible curveball or just stopbreathing all together.

that is exactly, sort of, the theme of my week. it has notbeen a good one. and i feel slightly panicked because it seems i am faced witha choice—either be the kind of working mother i don't want to be (the kind whorarely sees her kid, rarely sees her husband, spends all free time onBlackberry—the kind who doesn't breathe!) or don't be a working mother at all. neither scenario is feasibleright now.

what i don't understand is how there are people out therewho put their jobs before their children. if your job means that much to you, why have children atall? they're not an accessory, they're not just eye-candy for your holidaycards, or tax deductions. they are dependent human beings requiring sufficientlove, support and guidance to grow into happy, healthy, well-adjusted membersof society. and i'm sorry, i just don't think you can parent well when you'reresponding to work e-mails instead of reading your child a bedtime story.

or maybe the fault here lies with employers. maybe peoplewould have more time for their families if their bosses didn't haveunreasonable expectations. i resent the notion so prevalent in our society thatif you're not working endless hours, you're not working hard enough. i wouldlike to counter with: if you're working so many hours that you hardly see yourfamily, barely sleep and haven't seen daylight in weeks, there's somethingseriously wrong with you (or the boss making you do these things).

a woman on Lifeclasslast night said in an interview that she actually sat down and played a cardgame with her daughter. this was a real departure for her—typically she'd bedistracted, or trying to play and do something else at once. but she just satthere, gave her child her full attention and then, when her daughter asked toplay again, she played again. and it was apparently life-changing.

i guess that's my whole point. when people slow down anddevote time to the things that truly matter, they're happier. calmer. morefulfilled. take my dad for example. he retired a couple years ago and ratherthan spending the bulk of his time up in his home office on conference callsand going cross-eyed staring at his laptop screen, he's playing with trains inthe backyard, working out like a maniac on the treadmill, going to lunch atFriendly's with my mother. i've never seen the man happier or more relaxed.he'd probably tell me he had no choice but to be obsessed while still in theworking world. but WHY? why does ithave to be that way? why do we let our lives be run by people who lackperspective? most people at the tippy-top of companies are idiots. can't werise up against them?

i don't know. clearly i have a lot on my mind this week. iam just so adamant about not becoming the kind of person who needs somethinghorrible to happen (like the woman on Lifeclasswho left her two year old in a sweltering car because she was so distracted byher to-do list) before she realizes what's important in life. i want to always rememberwhat's important, and i don't want anyone trying to convince me otherwise.

one of my favorite writers ever, Anna Quindlen, gave anexcellent commencement speech at Villanova years ago about just this verything. you can read it here. my favorite part is this:

"Don't ever confuse the two, your life and your work.The second is only part of the first. Don't ever forget what a friend oncewrote Senator Paul Tsongas when the senator decided not to run for reelectionbecause he'd been diagnosed with cancer: No man ever said on his deathbed Iwish I had spent more time in the office."

mbm

loss

2011-11-10T13:05:00.001-05:00

though i grew up in Pennsylvania and about half the kids inmy senior class went to Penn State, i have no personal ties or connections tothe school. i've never even visited the campus. so maybe it's easier for me,then, to say that i think it's right that Joe Paterno got fired.

believe me, part of me feels so badly for him. that such along, amazing and vaunted career could end shrouded in such controversy andshame is almost unimaginable. but one can't help asking—why didn't he go to the police? who in their right mind, when toldthat a heinous crime was committed in his own team's locker room, wouldn't goright to the police, at the very least for advice about what to do? i mean,we're talking about an innocent child.

yes, he ostensibly did everything he was legally obligatedto do. but come on. come on. and thefact that the Penn State students got violent last night just underlined thefact that something needs to change. i get that they're bereft at losing theirbeloved Joe Pa. but when will common sense prevail? maybe this whole i'm-an-athlete-so-i'm-above-the-law mindsetso pervasive in professional sports has now completely polluted the world ofcollege sports, too—and its fans.

the whole situation is so hugely disturbing and trulymind-boggling. i hope the nationwide outcry and obsessive coverage from ESPN toCNN to the Daily Collegian will serve as a lesson to those in similar situations inthe future. losing football games is a bummer, sure; but losing one'sconscience carries far worse consequences.

mbm

baby, keep it to yourself

2011-11-09T12:32:00.001-05:00

i love this song. i've had it on repeat today. maybe i'll work on explaining why.

Well I don't tell jokes and I don't take notes

You been sayin' there ain't much hope

You got nothin' on me

I got friends uptown and they don't talk down

They've been keepin' me safe and sound

We got somethin' to be

So in case you hadn't noticed, I'm all right

Not like it was before

Things used to be so hopeless, but not tonight

Tonight I'm walkin' out that door

I'm not gonna cry, I'm wavin' goodbye

And I know this time

You got nothin' on me

Well it ain't that tough, just more of the usual stuff

One heartache is more than enough

There ain't nothing to see, nothin'

I got friends uptown and they still come 'round

They've been keepin' me safe and sound

We got somethin' to be

So don't you try to save me with your advice

Or turn me into somebody else

'Cause I'm not crazy and you're not nice

Baby, keep it, keep it to yourself

I'm not gonna cry and I'm wavin' goodbye

And I know this time

You got nothin' on me

—Shawn Colvin, "Nothin' on Me"

mbm

be calm in your heart

2011-11-07T15:16:00.003-05:00

mbm

five-thing fridays

2011-11-07T15:15:00.000-05:00

yeah, yeah. i'm a few days late. let's not get technicalhere.

1. my parents.they love being with my son and my son loves being with them. add this to thelong list of reasons why my mom and dad are awesome. (even though whenever i seethem now they make a beeline for Matthew. i used to get a hug and a kiss hello. apparently, those days are over.)

2. female bonding.i met some great girls during the wedding weekend—all wives of the othergroomsmen. we were all in the same boat, especially on Friday afternoon, afterour fellas took off all tuxed-up for wedding pictures (and a few hours in abar, of course). there were pedicures and a round of drinks at the hotel barand an impromptu ride in a big, black SUV to the wedding venue (clearly we weretoo posh for the shuttle buses) and lots of talk about pregnancy and motherhood(we're all newbies). it was such a blast.

3. being thirty-four.it's true that the copious amounts of wine i consumed on Thursday and Fridaynight hit me harder than the same behavior did, say, eight years ago. but ialso am free of the self-consciousness that i lugged around with me constantly,say, eight years ago. for example: at a bar after the rehearsal dinner, one ofthe aforementioned groomsmen's wives and i started an impromptu dance party. ican't remember what the song even was, but we were both new moms (our sons wereborn seven days apart), away from our babies overnight for the first time anddammit, we wanted to dance. the (much younger) crowd watched us, more fascinatedthan anything else, i think. but i didn't care. i just danced. same story atthe wedding. i kicked off my heels and cut my typical (crazy) rug with abandon.

4. coffee. see:aforementioned copious drinking.

5. my son. when igot home on Wednesday afternoon, he was in his 'office' (aka the exersaucer) in thebathroom while Michael was taking a shower, and as soon as he saw me he smiled hugelyand lifted up his arms, looking for a pick-me-up. it was the first time i saw him do it and my heart melted into apuddle. again.

mbm

refresher

2011-11-07T14:50:00.001-05:00

sometimes ya gotta switch it up a little.

Saturday afternoon, around three o'clock, i was driving backhome to New Jersey. the sun was shining and the trees were glorious shades offire against the crystalline sky. i had the Shawn Colvin station playing onPandora, and in the backseat were my husband and my son, both out cold, wearingthe exact same sleep faces, and i thought: thereis nothing else i need in my life.

we—Michael and i—were in the throes of a four-daytogetherness binge. we're like two constantly-starving people who go bonkerswhen someone leaves a loaf of bread within reach; we're desperate to be in thesame place at the same time (awake) for longer than an hour or two, and when ithappens, we devour every morsel.

this occasion was his friend's wedding, in Philadelphia. Michaelwas a groomsman, so we were there from the rehearsal dinner Thursday evening tothe day-after brunch on Saturday morning. despite the (oodles of) anxiety ifelt about leaving Matthew for two nights, we completely and utterly enjoyedourselves. (and Matthew enjoyed himself, being spoiled rotten by his Grammieand Grandpa.) we met a lot of great people, we did some sightseeing in thecity, we ate and drank like there was no tomorrow, and we laughed.

sometimes it's just nice—and necessary—to step back from or outof your day-to-day life. it's like hitting the 'refresh' button yourperspective. after rushing around like a maniac on Tuesday night, trying topack; then rushing out of the office on Wednesday afternoon to get on the roadto PA before rush hour; then working from my parents' on Thursday andfuriously—nervously—pounding away on my Blackberry the entire drive into Phillythat afternoon, i really reallyneeded to shut my brain off and just be.

mission accomplished.

i reconnected with my husband over the weekend, but i alsoreconnected with myself. and it gave me a chance to really clear some cobwebsfrom my brain. i realized i get so caught up sometimes in "gettingahead" or proving myself or trying to have some kind of life i'm not evensure i want, and it really brings me down. it's funny; when i spend time withpeople who don't live and work in New York, i realize i have much more incommon with them than with people who do. or maybe i'm just more drawn to them,because they seem so content in their own skin and with where they are in life.for them, it's not a race or a competition. they don't seem worried about beingjudged or missing out. they just...are. i find that inspiring.

so between the change in scenery, the quality time withMichael and seeing Matthew's face light up when we walked through my parents'door on Saturday, i was feeling a twinge enlightened as i drove us back homethat afternoon. so few things i fret about on a daily basis really matter. mostlythey're silly, meaningless, waste-of-time worries. and even if i can't changeexactly where i am and what i'm doing on a grand scale right now, i can takecomfort in the thought that was going through my head on a loop as i glanced inthe rearview mirror and saw my two boys sleeping peacefully: i have everything i need.

mbm

success

2011-11-03T09:58:00.002-04:00

© mbm, November 2009

To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligentpeople and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honestcritics and to endure the betrayal of false friends. To appreciate beauty; tofind the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthychild, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that even onelife has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.

—Ralph Waldo Emerson

mbm

what do beavers have to do with anything?

2011-11-02T11:34:00.000-04:00

i cannot stop laughing over this bit from Modern Family. it's from the "Hit and Run" episode, which aired a couple weeks ago.

mbm

yin yang

2011-11-02T09:57:00.000-04:00

post-cleanup. hopefully no permanent damage was done.

there are good things about getting up at four-thirty in themorning—such as, more quality time with the gregarious baby who woke you in thefirst place, and a feeling of accomplishment after getting yourself and saidbaby totally packed for the weekend before the Today show comes on.

and then there are bad things—such as, spilling the largecoffee you got from the coffee truck (because, you know, you've been up sincefour-thirty) onto the fancy Mac keyboard that sits on your office desk.

it's just how life goes, right?

mbm

you think that i don't know

2011-11-01T17:03:00.000-04:00

© mbm, October 2011

you've seen sad times, your eyes have told me so; blueand bad times, you think that i don't know. but there'll be glad times, justyou wait and see. and there'll be a sun rise, if you lean on me.

— TerryCallier, Lean on Me

aaaaahhhhh!

2011-11-01T16:54:00.003-04:00

head. is. spinning.

the snow on Saturday really threw me off.i spent all day Sunday forgetting it was still October. it looked and felt morelike January to me and i felt almost melancholy as a result. such a weird thing.

i went to see myGram and the power was out all over the place in her part of New Jersey—trafficlights were dead, McDonald's was closed and Gram was more than happy to seeMatty and me in her room, considering she was without her trusty television. it was an odd, almost unsettling day.

and this week, between Halloween yesterday and the wedding three days from now, my brain is a mish-mosh of things i cannot (but undoubtedlywill) forget. my plan is to update this blog at my leisure from the hotel onFriday (there's a pool! and a Starbucks!) so look for a more substantial postthen.

if i remember.

mbm

i shouldn't let this get to me, but i do

2011-10-31T13:02:00.001-04:00

am i contributing to this horrible trend just
by writing about it?

i don't give a rat's tush about anyone with the last name ofKardashian. i don't watch the show, i don't even know why they're 'famous,' buti did just hear that Kim is filing for divorce after 72 days of marriage. sheand her soon-to-be ex apparently made upwards of $17 million on theirwedding—from, i'm assuming, selling the photo rights to People and thebroadcast rights to E! the whole event reportedly cost $20 million and was'free' for the couple.

and now they have 'irreconcilable differences.'

i know this is a pointless rant, but what is wrong with people? does no one have a conscience anymore?i'm so naive, i know, but it really makes my stomach hurt. i don't know ifthere's been an actual increase in callous, superficial, vapid, narcissisticpeople in the world, but i do know that now they're all given reality shows,magazine covers and reported on as if they were actual news.

STOP IT! just stop it! stop reading, stop watching, stopcaring and they'll all just go away. and, trust me, the world will be a betterplace for it.

mbm

five-thing fridays

2011-10-28T11:39:00.000-04:00

a really special lady.

five things i'm thankful for this week:

1) um...that it's friday.this week has been weird and extremely long and i'm so very happy that it's over.

2) watching the sunrise.my son thinks i'm nuts, i'm certain, because every morning lately while he'sdrinking his bottle in his high chair, his mama is out on the balcony in herPJs taking pictures of the sunrise like a madwoman. i've never had the kind ofview we have now and i'm a little obsessed. plus, i'm awake every time thesun comes up. it's hard not to gape. (come to think of it, Matty is probably relievedhe is no longer the sole subject of his crazy mama's photography.)

3) Modern Family.i'm way behind on episodes this season, but i watched one last night—when Mannyhas to sell wrapping paper and Claire is trying to get the stop sign and Mitchell conquers his need to clean, much to Cam's dismay—on my iPad after i got into bed. even though i was half-asleep, i couldn't stop laughing. that show is consistently hilarious.

4) my gram. she turns eighty-six onSunday. i've been thinking a lot lately—even more than usual—about howimportant she's been in my life. she was always there for me when i reallyneeded her (when my mom was in the hospital for brain surgery and when i had ajob but no apartment right after college) and she's always made me feel specialand so loved. and she always had abox of my favorite Entenmann's donuts when i came to visit. best. Gram.ever.

5) my son. Michaelhad to work last night from midnight until eight o'clock this morning. i wasasleep when he left, but i don't think it was too much later when i heard Mattystirring via the baby monitor. yes! itiptoed to his room, gently plucked him from his crib and he kept me companythe rest of the night. i didn't see him much yesterday; we needed the cuddletime. it was perfection.

happy weekend, friends!

mbm

peanut butter and red wine

2011-10-27T20:58:00.000-04:00

sad little fridge.

that's what i had for dinner tonight. last night it was the stale bitsleft in a bag of whole grain Stacy's pita chips. why? because that's prettymuch all we have in the house. this morning i was starving—likely due to pitacrumb dinner of previous night—and made myself a packet of instant oatmeal i foundin the cabinet. tasted like cardboard. realized packets were from last winter.

we are hurtin' for groceries and i'm not sure why we don't have them,other than: who has time to shopfor groceries? it's on my to-do list for this weekend. still, it's a littleridiculous for two grown adults to live this way, isn't it? are we the onlyones who occasionally, seemingly suddenly, find ourselves with nothing edible in the house? (you would think this would propel us to just go and get groceriesright now, especially considering wecan see the A&P from our window.but...alas. peanut butter and wine.)

for the record, Matty is eating better than any of us. we are all stocked up on his sustenance—jars ofEarth's Best baby food and cans of Enfamil Premium. he's set.

come to think of it, i could have opted for a nice pureed pear orapple-apricot blend tonight instead of my Smart Balance Chunky and glass of pinot noir. ah, well.there's always tomorrow....

mbm

i ♥ words

2011-10-27T20:43:00.001-04:00

i spent a large amount of time today researching quotes for a project at work and came across a few too good not to share:

“Remember thatchildren, marriages, and flower gardens reflect the kind of care they get.”

—H. Jackson Browne, Jr.

“So the writer who breeds more words than he needs, ismaking a chore for the reader who reads.”

—Dr. Seuss

“Give advice;if people don't listen, let adversity teach them.”

—Ethiopian proverb

“No relationship is perfect, ever. There are always someways you have to bend, to compromise, to give something up in order to gainsomething greater...The love we have for each other is bigger than these smalldifferences. And that's the key. It's like a big pie chart, and the love in arelationship has to be the biggest piece. Love can make up for a lot.”

—Sarah Dessen,This Lullaby

“You wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs youdown.”

—Toni Morrison

“Forgiveness is giving up all hope of having had a betterpast.”

—Anne Lamott

mbm

the forgotten

2011-10-27T10:58:00.000-04:00

at the risk of turning this blog into A) an abridged versionof I Don't Know How She Does It; or 2)something all about motherhood, i have to—once again—share a passage from theaforementioned novel. i am not exaggerating when i tell you that whatever is on my brainwhen i go to sleep at night appears in a chapter or passage i read the next morning on my commute.

for example: last night i was thinking about how no one ever tells me i'ma good mother. it's not that i need or expect to hear it. and i probablywouldn't even notice, but everyone—family, friends, strangers—tells my husbandwhat an amazing dad he is. i happen to agree with them. it's part of the reasoni married him—i knew he was cut-out for fatherhood.

but after a while, agal—being indisputably new at the mama thing, no matter how natural it feelsto her—starts to wonder, well, what aboutme? you know, me—the one who carried that beautiful, healthy baby in her belly fornine months and endured several hours of brain-numbing, toe-curling,are-you-fucking-kidding-me pain while delivering that precious pumpkin into theworld? the one who was solely responsible for feeding the hungry child for thefirst three months of his life, wincing through cracked nipples and engorgedbreasts to make sure his belly was full? the one who—just when she had figured out this motherhood thing andwas officially, without-a-doubt, ass-over-teakettle in love—had to go back towork, spending approximately eleven hours of every weekday away from her littlepeanut? the one who, to compensate, gets up early with him every morning, feeds him,changes him, plays with him, gets ready for work while entertaining him—and, atnight, gets him ready for bed, sings to him, reads to him, glides with him, andgoes to sleep herself only so deeply because every atom in her body is onstandby should the smallest peep be heard on the baby monitor....? you know,that tired-looking creature over there with her underpants on inside out and her hair in a ponytail for the eighty-third day in a row and the smudge of baby poo on her forearm. me. what about me?

lest you come to the conclusion that i'm all sour grapes, ithink about this a very small fraction of the time. it feels odd to wantappreciation for something that i willingly chose for myself and from which i get such joy. but, i'mhuman. and last night it was on my mind. so you can imagine, again, my urge toscream, "I KNOW!" at my book on the train this morning when i read this:

"men can only be better fathers than their fathers.simply by knowing how to change a nappy or figuring out which hole you stickthe bottle in — these things mark them out as more capable parents than anyprevious generation. but women can only be worse mothers than our mothers, andthis rankles because we are working so very very hard and we are doomed tofail."

mbm

don't do me any favors

2011-10-26T13:54:00.003-04:00

i'm sorry for the endless pull-quotes from the book i'mreading now, but so much of it rings true to exactly what and where my life isright now. i recently had to figure out how to attend a rehearsal dinner withmy husband next Thursday in Philadelphia (he's in the wedding) while notmissing a day of work (i have zero, absolutely zilch, time off left because i wasforced to use all of my vacation on my maternity leave and it won't bereplenished until our new fiscal year begins in April). it was a bit of a process and now my brain keepsgetting stuck on how unfair it is that i started a family—a perfectly normal,commonplace, acceptable thing, no?—and, as a result, are now subject to anxiety attacks about needing a day off just to attend a wedding with my husband because i went ahead and opted to stay home with my newborn for the first precious, delicate three months of his life. to so this quote made me want to scream "YES!"this morning on the PATH when i read it....

"the thing is, kate, they treat us as though they'redoing us a great favor by letting us work after we've had a child. and theprice we pay for that favor is not making a fuss, not letting on how life cannever be the same for us again. but always remember it's us who are doing them a favor. we're perpetuating thehuman race, and there's nothing more important than that."

—I Don't Know How She Does It

mbm

i am...

2011-10-26T09:34:00.000-04:00

disaster of a desk

...the first one at the office today. this has not happened since before Matty was born and i just wanted to commemorate the occasion. may not happen again, ever. of course i'm using my 'bonus' time productively, updating my blog. but neveryoumind....

mbm

a different kind of blue

2011-10-25T14:14:00.001-04:00

taken an hour ago when i went out to get lunch. not photoshopped. gorgeous day. if any of you are reading this and are not confined to or required to stay in an office, get your butt outside now! enjoy this day for those of us who can't!

mbm

"when god created mothers" by erma bombeck

2011-10-25T10:50:00.002-04:00

just saw this for the first time. i had to post it—for all the mothers i know, and all the people i know who have mothers.

When the Good Lord was creating mothers, He was into Hissixth day of "overtime" when the angel appeared and said,"You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."

And God said, "Have you read the specs on this order? Shehas to be completely washable, but not plastic. Have 180 moveable parts—allreplaceable. Run on black coffee and leftovers. Have a lap that disappears whenshe stands up. A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to adisappointed love affair. And six pairs of hands."

The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs ofhands.... no way."

"It's not the hands that are causing me problems,"God remarked, "it's the three pairs of eyes that mothers have tohave."

"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.God nodded.

"One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks,'What are you kids doing in there?' when she already knows. Another here in theback of her head that sees what she shouldn't but what she has to know, and ofcourse the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up andsay. 'I understand and I love you' without so much as uttering a word."

"God," said the angel touching his sleeve gently,"Get some rest tomorrow...."

"I can't," said God, "I'm so close tocreating something so close to myself. Already I have one who heals herselfwhen she is sick...can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger...and canget a nine year old to stand under a shower."

The angel circled the model of a mother very slowly."It's too soft," she sighed.

"But tough!" said God excitedly. "You cannotimagine what this mother can do or endure."

"Can it think?"

"Not only can it think, but it can reason andcompromise," said the Creator.

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across thecheek.

"There's a leak," she pronounced. "I told Youthat You were trying to put too much into this model."

"It's not a leak," said the Lord, "It's atear."

"What's it for?"

"It's for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain,loneliness, and pride."

"You are a genius, " said the angel.

The Lord looked somber. "I didn't put it there.”

mbm

sunday night blues

2011-10-24T17:00:00.003-04:00

sometimes it takes all all my willpower not to wake him up.

last night was the first Sunday night in years that i felt blue. i used to get the SNBs maybe nine or 10 years ago when my life was, generallyspeaking, a disaster. i felt out of place at my job, my boyfriend (now husband)worked hours opposite from mine all week and i was in my mid-twenties. enoughsaid.

last night the blues hit me as i was putting Matty in hisPJs. we'd just gotten home from a fun, busy weekend—part of the time spent athis grammie and grandpa's and part of the time spent visiting family in NewJersey. my parents dropped us off at home and i gave him a bath and as i wasputting him in his cozy feetsie pajamas, i found myself not wanting to put himto bed, though the kid was desperate for sleep.

our quality time together goes so quickly. i'm so gratefulfor the time that we have and i want to cherish every moment of it. (a workfriend told me earlier that an acquaintance of hers from back home experienced an unthinkable tragedy over the weekend—this woman and her husband had gone to awedding and left their two-year-old twin boys with her husband's parentsovernight. the parents woke up to find one of the boys was dead, no discernible cause. i can't even.i wanted to throw up when i heard it. i can't accept that these things happen.i'm sorry for sharing, but it's a horrible reminder to treasure the time we dohave.)

anyway. i've been thinking a lot about quality time lately.my husband (previously boyfriend) and i still work opposite hours and i'd belying if i said it wasn't a challenge. it has its benefits (he gets to be withMatty three days a week, whereby alleviating the need for daycare and also providing Matty will precious daddy-time most kids don't get) but we wentfrom oodles of family time (when i was on maternity leave) to hardly any atall. and it sorta hurts.

i know we're not the only ones. i was at a baby showeryesterday and talking to my cousin's wife—they had a baby five monthsbefore Matty was born—about trying to get out the door in the morning(something always goes wrong, we agreed) and how evenings are tough whensomeone has to work late and that it's not easy trying to navigate the transition fromtwosome to threesome. a friend of mine is in a similar situation as i am—new baby, shorton quality family time, feeling the frustration.

i know the lesson here is to make the most of the time you do have (see above story about that poorlittle boy) because it does no good to look at what you don't. but that'swhere i'm stuck right now. it's an ironic sort of feeling—just like the Sundaynight blues. you feel sad because something good is ending, rather than happythat you had such a good time.

is that just human nature, or do we all need a swift kick inthe pants?

mbm

cheatin' hearts

2011-10-24T09:47:00.000-04:00

"any woman with a baby has committed a kind of adulteryalready, i think. the new love in the nest is so voracious that all the old onecan do is wait patiently, hoping for any crumbs the intruder does not consumein its cuckoo greed."

from I Don't Know How She Does It*, by Allison Pearson

*i love this book. i read it several years ago, before i wasmarried with a child. i love it so much more now.

mbm

five-thing fridays

2011-10-21T13:28:00.002-04:00

i have a vague recollection of doing this a few years ago;forget how long it lasted or why i stopped. but i'm feeling the urge again tojot down the things i'm thankful for. so, each Friday, i'm going to write aboutfive things i'm thankful for. (full-disclosure—i was going to call thisThankful Thursdays, but i got too busy yesterday and forgot! typical.)

anywho. this week i am thankful for:

1) autumn weather,finally! i love chunky sweaters and down vests and wearing socks and bootsand sipping hot apple cider and the way the air smells and waking up before the sunrises and i honestly, truly, for-some-reason-i-don't-understand, fall madly inlove all over again with New York City this time of year. there is nothing wrong with autumn.

2) old friends.the beauty of having long friendships is that you always come back togetheragain. you start out having everything in common and then maybe you drift downopposite forks in the road, maybe it lasts a few months or a few years. butthen—wham! you find yourselves having similar issues or similar life changes atexactly the same time and oh—is thereanything more comforting than venting to someone who not only knows you, butunderstands exactly what you're going through? i say: no.

3) Starbucks SaltedCaramel Mocha. on the recommendation of a friend from work, i tried this afew weeks ago. it was warm that day, so i went for the Frappucino version. oh.my. god. i have since officially named this my One Weekend Indulgence. i'mlooking forward to trying the hot version tomorrow, since the weather will beperfectly cool and autumny and i will likely be in need of a ~~sugar rush~~something to warm my bones.

4) light bulb moments.i've had a few of those this week. it's just nice to actually get things somteimes. god knows ithappens so rarely to me...!

5) my son. (note:he will appear here every week, obvi.) he slept with us last night because hispoor gums were hurting and how can you deny the little guy comfort that onlycomes from cuddling with mama? anyway, he and i woke up this morning and i hadhim in my arms, en route to the kitchen to warm up his bottle, when i stoppedto look in the mirror above my dresser. i was observing my matted hair and themascara i'd neglected to remove last night, which was now smudged,raccoon-style, beneath my eyes when i noticed Matty's face. he was grinning atmy reflection like a Charlie Brown character (you know, mouth in the shape of a"D" on its side?). i wish i could have taken a picture. it was one ofthe sweetest, funniest sights i've ever seen. talk about ways to get your dayoff to a great start...

happy weekend, friends!

mbm

helpless

2011-10-21T12:57:00.001-04:00

had a therapy session this week, for the first time in quite a while. of course the ol' brain is going now and i'm thinking... the concept of detaching with love is so hard to master. forme, anyway.

how do you do it? when you care about someone—someone youknow is making disastrous choices or is stuck in a rut or not learning lessonsfrom the past—how do you not want tohelp? i suppose there's not much you can do about wanting to help. that's human nature, for anyone with a pulse (onewould hope). detaching with love is more about overcoming the impulse toadvise, support, impart wisdom, etc., because most times, the person you careabout ain't buyin'. he or she cannot and will not accept anything positive you'reoffering.

the key is, i guess, to look the other way as they spiraldownward, or dig deeper into their hole, or hit rock bottom—to take a deepbreath, assume they'll figure it out, remind yourself that you can only controlyourself...all the while trying to maintain your own buoyancy.

tricky stuff.

mbm

enough!

2011-10-20T15:47:00.000-04:00

i had a mini epiphany this afternoon when i went out to runsome errands during my lunch. more about that in a second.

first—i just saw the news that Jessica Simpson is pregnant.that's great, i suppose, it doesn't really matter to me one way or another. butwhat outraged me (though why am i surprised?) is the cover line on the bottomof the magazine. take a look:

in case you missed it: "Who Else is Pregnant—and Who's Just Fat!"

WHY?

why are we likethis? when did it become cool to be cruel? yes, it's a trashy celeb magazine,but think of all the young girls who will either read this magazine or see thecover in line at the grocery store while shopping with mom and either A) getthe idea that judging other girls for their weight is normal or 2) feel ashamedbecause they believe themselves to be among the 'fat' group?

oh, this just makes me insane. INSANE.

back to my epiphany, which is related to this insanity.

i wore a dress today, instead of my usual jeans, because ihad a meeting this morning (which promptly got cancelled when i arrived at theoffice, per the usual). i wore flats for the commute and put on my heels when igot here. i put the flats back on for my errand-running, since i had to walkmore than a few blocks and why chance breaking my ankle when i don't have to,right?

anyway, while out and about, i caught several full-lengthglimpses of my reflection in various store windows and found myself thinking,"dumb Irish legs!" (wearing flats always accentuates my lack ofdelicate ankles and the sturdiness of my calves.) but after maybe the second orthird time i cursed the sole downside of my heritage, i thought, "wait asecond. who gives a shit?"

i realized i tend to judge myself so harshly not because iam really all that unhappy with what i see, but because i assume others are judging me, and if i can judgemyself first and with greater intensity, their judgments can't me.

here's my lightbulb moment: if anyone is looking at my legsand thinking "ew" or "poor girl" or "wear pants,woman, for chrissakes!" they really need to get a life. how sad for themif that's where their mental energy is going, you know what i mean? and, onthat same note, if they're the kind of individual to engage in such absurdcriticism, their opinion is meaningless to me anyway!

my legs are awesome! they've served me well for over threedecades. they got me through gymnastic recitals and musical productions andlong walks with my dog, through 5K races and crowded city streets and achoreographed first dance at my wedding, they safely carried me through nine months ofpregnancy, including blizzards and so many subway staircases, and they will certainly serve me well onceMatty starts trying out his own two legs.

what is there possiblyto hate?!

i can't change the perspective of the shallow jerks whochoose story ideas and coverlines for national magazines. and i know i can'ttell every young girl in the world not to fall for the petty crap saidmagazines (and television shows and countless other sources) peddle withseemingly no conscience or concern for society.

but, hey, at least i changed my perspective today. gottastart somewhere.

mbm

both worlds

2011-10-20T15:00:00.000-04:00

i went out for drinks (and, inevitably, some awesomelygreasy food) with some co-workers last night. i believe this is the first timei have gone out after work with more than one friend since—i don't even know.much longer than six months.

Michael had Matty in Brooklyn, so i knew he was in goodhands. and there i was, sitting on a stool at The Smith, sipping deliciousMalbec, talking about a variety of funny things with people i see every day butnever seem to get sick of, and i felt...giddy.

more importantly, i felt giddy without feeling guilty. life has been a tad stressfullately, and while i bemoan daily the lack of time i get to spend with my son, iknow—especially right now—i need to stay connected to me. i can do that in a variety of ways (writing, a long walk,baking, a long hot bath) and letting my shoulders relax and the Malbec do itsthing and laughing for a few hours in the middle of a tough week happens to beone of them.

of course, whereas i used to stay out later than advisable,when i realized last night that it was "already" nine o'clock, mysole mission was to get home. and when i arrived, i was thrilled to find Mattyawake in his crib. he smiled when he saw me and i scooped him up and we rockedin the glider until he drifted off to sleep.

that was my Wednesday night. they have a term for it: thebest of both worlds.

mbm

when it don't come easy

2011-10-20T10:12:00.000-04:00

this song came on while my iPhone was shuffling during my commute this morning. Patti Griffin. love it, so much.

i don't know nothing except change will come

year after year what we do is undone

time keeps moving from a crawl to a run

i wonder if we're gonna ever get home

you're out there walking down a highway

and all of the signs got blown away

sometimes you wonder if you're walking in the wrongdirection

but if you break down

ill drive out and find you

if you forget my love

i'll try to remind you

and stay by you when it don't come easy...

mbm

what a circus

2011-10-19T14:33:00.000-04:00

"we're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! that aloneshould make us love each other but it doesn't. we are terrorized and flattenedby trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing."

- Chuck Bukowski, The Captain is Out to Lunch and theSailors have Taken Over the Ship

(via a friend's status on facebook)

mbm

just let it go...

2011-10-19T11:06:00.003-04:00

"the angry people are those people who are mostafraid."

- dr. robert anthony

mbm

these obstacles were my life

2011-10-18T17:32:00.000-04:00

happiness is a journey, not a destination. for a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. but there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. at last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. this perspective has helped me to see there is no way to happiness. happiness is the way. so treasure every moment you have and remember that time waits for no one. -souza

mbm

write or wrong?

2011-10-18T16:09:00.001-04:00

it's been brought to myattention that writing is perceived as an inferior form of communication—contemptuous,even. i find this both unfair and flat-out wrong.

i read an articlein Real Simple Family magazine lastmonth about extroverts versus introverts. contrary to what i (and probably manyothers) tend to assume, this is not the same thing as comparing outgoing peopleand shy people. extroverts are simply able to recharge, process things andgather their thoughts best when there are lots of people around. introvertsneed time alone to accomplish the same. it's true that most extroverts areoutgoing and most introverts are shy. but it's more about the inner self thanthe outer self.

i feel the same way aboutwriters versus talkers. there are some of us out there who are able to expressthemselves more accurately and gracefully with either a pen and paper or akeyboard and a screen. there are an equal number (or perhaps more) who preferto talk it out, face to face or on the phone. talkers believe writers arehiding, somehow—or that we think we're superior—but that couldn't be fartherfrom the truth. i know that when i write, i am more honest with my thoughts,and also more sensitive. i can think things through and consider what i want tosay, rather than blurting and sputtering things i might regret.

i grew up with no siblingsto squabble with, and got along well with my parents, so there wasn't a lot ofconflict-resolution necessary. i was an agreeable kid with a natural talent forwriting. i kept a diary from a young age, and that's how i worked out myemotions about things. it's still howi work out my emotions about things. perhaps i'm just an old soul. back in JaneAusten's day, everyone communicated via letters. maybe i'm living in the wrongera.

but i still don't thinkthere's anything wrong with doing what works best for me. if it helps mecommunicate more effectively, why does it matter? i would never force someonewho hates writing to write out their thoughts instead of talking. why forcesomeone like me, who—especially in delicate situations—prefers to write, talkinstead?

believe me, there areplenty of times when i wish i was better at talking. my early dating yearsprobably would have been far less traumatic (and more successful) if i was. buti'm not. i've accepted that. and i feel blessed that i love to write, thati'm pretty good at it on most days and that i've been able to make a living from doing it.

it takes all kinds to keeplife interesting. if everyone was a writer, the world would be silent. ifeveryone was a talker, no one would listen. we need each other to keep this planet balanced. so can't wejust all get along?

mbm

life is beautiful

2011-10-18T11:27:00.001-04:00

especially at seven in the morning in the middle of October, just as the sun is coming up over the Hudson River.

mbm

authenticity

2011-10-17T21:06:00.002-04:00

where i work, the adjective "authentic" is used alot—in terms of style, in terms of putting looks together in an organic way.it's just one of our buzz words, and i incorporate it often in my copy. butlately i'm thinking about the word in terms of me. tonight i'm catching up on my Lifeclass episodes from the second half of last week and somethingOprah just said struck me:

"it doesn't haveto look like what everybody else thinks it should look like. it doesn't have tobe what everybody else thinks it should be. it is an exciting notion to be ableto change your perception and see things differently so that you begin to seeexactly who you really are, not playing the role that the rest of the worldrequires of you."

i really believe this is something people don't think aboutenough. are you living authentically? are you living your life in a way thatfeels true to you, that feels genuine, that really fulfills you? or are youitchy, uncomfortable, unhappy—are you holding your breath?

think about it. we all deserve to live honestly.

mbm

"words to live by"

2011-10-17T12:16:00.004-04:00

sometimes—especially when the chips are down—it's hard to hold onto one's perspective, to avoidgetting tangled up in others' negativity and unhappiness. but a friend posted something on myFacebook wall last night that was perfectly timed and much needed. just thoughti'd share it here, because who doesn't need to be reminded of this from time totime?

mbm

repugnant

2011-10-17T12:08:00.000-04:00

i remember some people tsk-tsking when i was pregnant andespoused the European philosophy about drinking wine (i.e. it's fine, withinreason). everyone's entitled to his or her own opinion, but as far as i'mconcerned, what baby Lisa's mom did the night she disappeared is far worse. a snippet from her latestrevelation:

"I had several glasses of wine," Bradley told PEOPLE. Morethan five? "Probably." Asked if she was concerned she might be drunkwith her infant daughter inside, Bradley replied, "She was sleeping. Idon't have a problem with me having adult time."

seriously? adult time? thatkind of adult time is fine if your child is being watched by someone else whileyou drink yourself into a blackout. it's notokay if your child's well-being is solely in your hands.

what makes me the most sick about this latest news is howmany couples are out there who want to get pregnant but can't, or who aredesperate to be parents but are unable afford the adoption process. meanwhile,people like this, who are lucky enough to become parents, are so thoughtlesswith their babies. and then so arrogant about their horrible lack of judgment.

i can't even.

mbm

what do you think it means?

2011-10-16T21:35:00.001-04:00

matty and i went to PA this weekend and, en route, not far from my parents', we passed a church with one of those marquee signs out front. it read:

GOD HAS A BIG ERASER.

at first glance it seems like a good thing, right? like youcan mess up and god will forgive you.

but it can also be interpreted in a completely different way—asin, god has a big eraser and he's not afraid to use it...on you.

struck me as funny; is it reassuring or ominous? but then that ambiguity pretty much sums up organized religion in general, doesn't it?

mbm

if only

2011-10-13T20:47:00.001-04:00

"There's a lot of ugly things in this world, son. Iwish I could keep 'em all away from you."

— AtticusFinch

mbm

grand

2011-10-13T11:58:00.000-04:00

"i have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutelymiserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all i still know quite certainlythat just to be alive is a grand thing."

—Agatha Christie

mbm