If you’re a parent, then you feel guilty. About something. Especially if you’re a single parent. So, can anything good come of parental guilt? Is guilt telling me something I need to hear?
Cruise Control
It’s drizzling, and still only half light, 6:00 a.m. I need to shower and dress, to drink the first cup of coffee. Dreams are drifting in and out: old friends, improbable scenarios, places I’ve never seen that are vaguely European. The dog is sleeping, stretched on the floor next to my bed. I hear her […]
Competitive Kids, Competitive Parents
How much competitiveness should we encourage in our children, and at what age? How competitive should we be with our kids? Our go go go society We know the tales of waiting lists, reference letters and expensive testing – all to get toddlers into the right preschools. Never too early to get our children properly […]
Andy Warhol Loved Shoes
Andy Warhol loved shoes. Shaking awake. Scrambling to start: 80 miles to go, highway of stacked heels. Four hours to kill in platform slides, sliding back, into sleep. Home again, home again – words and shoes. Road trip, shoe trip, shoe tripping. Andy Warhol loved shoes. Drawings, paintings, screen prints, diamond dust on […]
Chicken Soup
“He’s been in bed for two days,” says the older brother. “Doing what?” I ask. “Dunno,” is the reply. “Could you give me a few specifics? Any television or piano? Was he on the computer?” “Dunno,” his brother says again, as I open the door and look in. My younger son rolls his eyes toward […]
Traffic calming. $138 later, I’m not calm.
Just a few years back, in my leafy little burb, my pocket of proprietor’s paradise, near my 1400 square feet in desirable location-location-location, the proverbial “they” began a project. A “Traffic Calming Project.” Calming, I thought to myself. Traffic calming at that. It had to be a euphemism for something subterranean and a little less […]
Coffee. Pasta. Oh Christ, another day.
The coffee’s hot. Black. Strong. My drug of choice. FLASHBACK: I used to joke “I like my coffee the way I like my men – hot, black, and strong.” But that was before the age of political correctness. Before the 80s. My permed hair. Shoulder pads. Pumps with toe cleavage. By the early 90s I […]