In the years since I delivered my twin boys and then their little brother, I’ve come across a few articles on the internet profiling women – American women – who really really really want to have a girl. Women who go into states of depression when the ultrasound reveals a budding penis. Women who have many boys . . . because they keep trying to have a girl. And women who are willing to spend a lot of money on unproven “medical” techniques that hold the promise of two x chromosomes. I just don’t get it. Boys are awesome! Continue reading
Oysh! It’s been a long time since I posted. I have been bogged down with the normal stuff but also with a big project my husband is working on that is taking over our lives. I will (maybe) post more about that later. I have also been feeling a little uninspired. I never sit down at the keyboard without a fully developed idea of what I want to write. I get inspired and then the words just tumble out and it’s very easy. But I haven’t felt that way lately. Continue reading
I’ve never been skydiving. Or bungee jumping. While researching family vacations, I’ve noticed that some resorts offer trapeze lessons. I have no desire to try these things. This should come as no surprise to people who know me and know that I have a fear of heights and get queasy whenever my children ask if they can go on the Hulk the next time we go to Universal. I will not be riding the Hulk. And I will puke if I have to watch my children riding the Hulk. I don’t understand thrill seekers and adrenaline junkies. Isn’t life scary enough?
One recent Saturday afternoon, I went to our local grocery store to pick up dinner ingredients. Two of the kinder opted to stay home with the hubs and play Xbox, but my oldest was game for grocery shopping.
“Can I get a cookie?” he asked.
“Of course you can!” Er, you’re the only offspring willing and happy to shop with mommy? You can have as many cookies as your little heart desires – duh!
I know it’s a stereotype, but my first born (by eight minutes) is the more responsible, diligent, and accommodating child. When I come home from the grocery store, he is the one who rushes to empty the trunk of grocery bags. When I gift him and his brother with a Lego set, he is the one who puts ninety percent of it together and then beams when his brother chirps, “Come see what we put together mommy!” When we are not fifteen minutes early in drop off line in the morning, he is the one who frets, “What if we’re tardy?” (You’ll think I’m crazy, but I can tell him apart from his twin in some of their baby and toddler photos based on his wrinkled brow. Seriously, my first born was born worried.) So no big surprise that he is the one who volunteers to do the menschy thing and tear himself away from Minecraft to accompany his mother on an errand.
Maybe it’s only because I’m a fan of the blogosphere, Pinterest and Instagram, places where photos of food are de rigueur, that I’ve noticed a shift in the American attitude toward food. It doesn’t seem to be about diets so much anymore, although there is the Paleo craze. Overall, the emphasis on losing weight seems to have been replaced by a trend toward a true lifestyle change.
A handful of well-known websites/blogs are leading the charge in espousing a soup to nuts approach. This isn’t about dieting ’til you reach your target weight. This is a forever proposition. I’ve been exploring these websites, and some of them had me freaking out. It seems like everything in my pantry has at least one ingredient that is linked to Something Really Bad. Maybe not nuclear apocalypse, but Something Really Bad, nonetheless.
I’m not clueless. It makes sense that if a packaged food has a sell by date that coincides with your tween getting his driver’s permit, it probably contains something that’s not good for you. Even so, I have been willfully blind about this, happily filling my grocery cart with these convenience products so that I don’t have to spend my life in the kitchen.
Thanksgiving and Hanukkah have left us and New Year’s is appoaching. My thoughts should be turning to resolutions, but it seems like everyday involves resolutions. I call it my to do list.
“This weekend, I will get all the photos off my computer and onto the Walgreen’s website so I can start organizing them into albums. Oh, and it would be really nice if I could get out holiday cards this year.”
“Tomorrow, I will start Couch to 5k again so I can finally get into shape and increase my energy level.”
“Our living room still looks like we just moved in. Go couch and rug shopping this weekend.”
“Pick out exterior paint colors. Target date – before hurricane season starts.”
“I really should start using the camcorder again or my youngest is going to grow up, notice the drop off in videos after his birth, and head straight to therapy.”
Not to mention work deadlines, meal planning, and the confetti of school forms and reminders covering my nightstand. So, no need for more resolutions. I have enough to keep me busy. However, somehow Thanksgiving came and went and I never sat down and took stock of all the things in my life that make me feel blessed and grateful. I’m on staycation this week, and have had time to notice the little things that are really the big things. So here goes, better late than never, right?
I’m easing back into the work week after a lovely four-day weekend which kicked off with the first night of Hanukkah and ended last night with what was supposed to be a latke-making party. If you read my last post, you’ll know that I spent some time extolling the virtues of freshly-made latkes and giving the thumbs down to pre-made (albeit homemade) reheated latkes. I have to pause a moment here to eat some crow.