Category Archives: family

June 20, 2008 · 9:56 pm

Time to cry

I know this blog is about laughter, but sometimes we have no choice but to cry.

Yesterday a dear friend and neighbor lost her life in a tragic traffic accident. She was only 58 years old. This post is a tribute to woman who personified the word family.

Every so often in our lives we come across people who lead by example. We are fortunate enough to live across the street from such a family for the past 20 years. They have 4 grown children, all of whom moved back to the area. A magical grandchild who I have joked about being the third grandparent to. And a circle of friends so wide and deep it is illustrated by the never-ending stream of cars that have lined our street since the hours after the accident.

This morning I heard a 12-year-old boy and a grown man ask the same thing. “How can you be here one minute and gone the next?”. Of course, there is no explanation that could satisfy either. This is the unfathomable.

We all leave behind a legacy of sorts. I would like to think of hers as our neighborhood guide to motherhood. She taught us all how to be parents. My husband joked with her and asked what she fed those kids to keep them coming back. She knew how to live life to its fullest and spread love through her work as a teacher and the way she presided over her beautiful family. A tireless woman who always had a way of making everyone feel special. A friend said that their family was like 6 degrees of separation in our community. Probably less in my estimation.

The last time I saw her was the day before she died. It was late in the day and she, her husband, daughter and grandson were walking down the street. I looked in my rear view mirror as I passed and waved, and thought to myself how lucky they are to have raised such a beautiful family and be so young to enjoy the next generation. Her daughter is pregnant with her second child… a girl.

A bittersweet cycle of life.

To you, my friend. I can only hope that wherever you are, you are able to see the impact you made on this world.

Some days time loses out over crying.

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June 16, 2008 · 10:00 pm

First Thursday

If you live in my house, or that of 6 other outrageous women in my zip code, the first Thursday of the month means a night out with ‘the girls’. I will use that term only in the cliché of ‘girl’s night out’, for the seven of us are certainly w-o-m-e-n. In all its positive (and not so positive) connotations. Our husbands may like to spell that b-i-t-c-h. (or more affectionately… bee-otch).

It is hard to describe this group and do it any justice. Were we born out of the need to be heard and not judged? Perhaps. I do know that this is a table where I can fool absolutely NOBODY. And if I try to, I am called on it… big time!

Our mission, if there was to be one, is to BE THERE, no matter what. And to laugh, laugh, laugh.

We started in the most haphazard of ways. We met riding the train, through carpools, as neighbors or running partners. There was no rhyme or reason to who was in… we just happened. We measure the time we have been together by the age of the youngest of our collective 18 children who was born 2 weeks before we started. (12 years ago!) We have shared each other’s joys and heartbreaks ever since. There have been many of both, which makes us all realize how important it is to have your girls.

Our beginning was the essence of the title of this blog, we all could cry but we just had no time. Funny…but not. We were all working mothers with children ranging in age from 0-10 when we began. We come from all fields: medicine, finance, design, merchandising, real estate and entertainment. We are business owners, consultants, full time employees… you name it. Some have stopped working (for pay), some have scaled back and others have ramped up. We are the embodiment of how to juggle at any cost. And we were all beginning to realize that ‘the cost’ was ourselves.

Now that the kids are older life is easier on a maintenance level, but way harder on a life issues one.

There is no table I have ever sat at that is more entertaining. The following is the list of topics discussed at one dinner:

hillary vs. obama, SAT vs. ACT, big 10 vs. private universities, medical neutering of men in power (sorry guys, but this COULD keep you focused), career paths, time off, homeopathic vs. western medicine, botox, tennis, pilates and yoga, 10 lbs. on your ass doing wonders for your face at ‘a certain age‘, social media ruining the focus of our kids or are they just learning in a new way, multi-tasking, facebook, study habits, glass ceilings,  spreadsheets, iphones, the choices of our kids, the ailments of our parents, south beach, vegas, perez hilton, dave matthews (how did those two get in the same conversation?), the right to choose… EVERYTHING in our lives, the size of our asses and our egos, face creams, bad dreams, edging towards, turning and passing 50… and everything in between. (And that is just the list I dare to publish).

Thank you my dear sweet First Thursdays, for keeping me laughing, and yes crying too! You make the good times more joyous and bad ones easier to endure.

I love you all. (admit it, you are tearing up a bit ; )

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June 15, 2008 · 10:23 am

Remember the Stink in Seinfeld’s Car?

I have a rival story.

There is nothing more perplexing than trying to figure out the mind of a 15-year-old boy. Unless of course you have been living with one and observed the habits of the pack he brings home.

As I have stated before, I love teenagers! I truly do. They are sophomoric, so am I. They love music, so do I. They love to laugh. Well, we all know, so do I!

This little story will make you both cringe and smile if you have ever lived with (or been) a teenage boy.

Last friday my daughter and I left my son and his 4 friends playing a heated game of basketball in the driveway. It was during the ghastly heat wave we had in NY last week. High 90’s, 1 million percent humidity. They were all dripping wet when we left and kept on playing after we were gone.

When we came back, Danny tells me that he had to take the laundry out of the dryer because, “they needed it for a minute”. I did not think much about it. Left for dinner with daughter and husband and sometime after the second hot sake it occurred to me!

“I know why they needed the dryer!” At that same moment my daughter got it to.

Yes, my friends, five 15-16 year old sweaty, disgusting, post-basketball-playing boys, took off their shirts and put them in the friggin’ dryer!

Worse yet, they put them on when they dried and went out for a friday night… with girls!

Nothing like baking that sweat into your clothing and impregnating my dryer with a stink that no can of Febreze will ever cure. (BTW, Febreze is the Spanx and Spacebags of living with teens) Can you imagine calling the repair guy, “Um, well, I have this kind of stink in my dryer that I can’t get rid of. No really, I have no idea where it came from”. Enough to get the Matag repairman out of retirement!

I can’t be sure, but I think I saw the cleaning lady turn up her nose when she did the laundry this week.

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June 12, 2008 · 9:35 pm

This is not a dress rehearsal…

With the graduation season upon us (today was the last day of classes in our district), and by request of a friend who flatteringly remembered an email I sent last year, I have decided to post this reflection. This certainly falls under the category of finding the time to cry. Even if you don’t have a graduate, this one will probably require a tissue:

This is not a dress rehearsal…

or watch the temp when you decide to iron the graduation gown.

6AM on the day that my first child graduates high school.

how can this be, she was just a curly-headed little whirling dervish whose door i had to hold shut as she was throwing her ever famous brand of temper tantrums. that same door with the loose latch from all the times she slammed it for effect when she stormed into her room in her tweens. you know the one, who at five years old marched into nuerosurgery to ‘get her neck fixed’ and never once asked ‘why me?’.

who was that radiant young woman that walked out of the house wednesday morning with her car packed and her keys in hand saying, “don’t worry mom, i have the garmin GPS, i don’t need a map!”

well i think, perhaps, i need a map today. someone tell me how to navigate this road. we surely have had enough practice. we graduate them ad nauseum – from the 4’s, kindergarten, 5th grade, 8th grade – the most graduated generation of all times. you would think we would get used to it. but this year’s cap does not have flourescent orange and green finger paint decorating it. this kid has actually grown up! how dare she. does she not know that my bravado this year has all been an act. of course i could not be ready for her to be the competant, independent, grab-the-world-by-the-balls person i worked so hard to raise. does she not know i was only kidding!! wisconsin?!! that is halfway across the country!

i digress – back to the gown and the iron. being a working mom i always look for ways to overcompensate and make sure that i am doing the mom thing as well as the work thing. so, of course, they both are never really quite up to the standard i expect. somewhere in the 4-page green directions for graduation (you know the one, where the assistant principal gives them a 10 bullet list for how to enjoy graduation and prom, 9 of which stress not drinking or doing drugs) there was mention of taking the gown out of the bag and ironing it. at midnight i was the mom who would just hang it up. at 6AM i decided no daughter of mine will graduate with a wrinkled gown!

so why is it, exactly, that they make these things out of the same material as basketball shimmer shorts?!

no, you will not be able to notice my daughter by the big brown iron mark on the back of her white gown. but if you look close, you may notice that on the front left shoulder the fabric is, how should i put it, a tad ‘melted’.

as jana would say, ‘it’s FINE’. as my parents would say, i did it ‘the Amy way’.

a huge thank you to the jana who has become one of my favorite people on earth to spend time with. surely the one that knows me the best, and loves me anyway. sometimes it seems that she is raising me. i think her humor and radiant smile will get me through this one. levity has always been her strong point.

love and congrats to all of you who have been in the parenting trenches with me the past 18 years. for some of you it is your first, others, your last. it is never easy to watch them go. but then again, we could all use a rest. and as my mommy mentors tell me, they come home, stay out all night, sleep late and bring lots of laundry.

let the games begin!

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June 11, 2008 · 8:41 pm

The Sandwich Generation (hold the mayo)

Nice term, right? Wikipedia uses this definition: The Sandwich Generation are a generation of people who care for their aging parents while supporting their own children. Ahh, another baby boomer phenomenon! (nice pic, don’t you think. can someone name that meat for me, please?)

While I am happy to say I am not caring for my parents, I have certainly been helping to navigate their healthcare issues for the past few years. More from a support, research and admin point of view, as I am lucky to have very competent, educated parents. But the simultaneous pressures of aging parents and growing children has become a national dilemma that those of us who are lucky to still have parents at this age face day to day.

As you can tell by now, I like to find the humor in any situation to help me get through it. I have certainly been challenged over the past few years. Hmmm… which story to tell? How about this one:

My dad, the bionic man who is the healthiest sick guy I know, was going in to have his pacemaker upgraded. We liked to think of it as Harvey 2.0. My brother came up to lend support and stay with my mom. Upon arrival at the hospital, my mom is in tears. I figure she is worried. “Oh no”, my brother says over his shoulder while guiding her through the parking lot, “Dad just closed her fingers in the car door.” You MUST be kidding! But, alas, it gets worse. He turns around again to say “And she slipped in the shower and I have not yet assessed her injuries”. My first reaction was, “I left you with them for 24 hours and this is what you come up with?” Luckily he, too has a sense of humor.

Fast forward to the end of the day. We now have mom in the ER, she has broken her rib, hand was just bruised but they admit her to find out why she is falling. Dad? He is in recovery. Bro and I are huddled by the vending machines in the only cell phone zone in the friggin’ place and I watch him point and say, “There goes dad!” I turn to see my father in his gown (butt covered, thank goodness) with an IV poll searching for my mom in the ER. (where’s poppa?) Of course, while I am on a ridiculous business call (…yes, of course I heard your details of revision 19 of the brochure we are doing. no i am not distracted).

Did I mention my kids were home, dinner was not on the horizon for anyone and the poor dog is crossing her legs? And that by the end of the 5-day visit my brother was calling the local liquor store by its first name?

Sandwich indeed! (BTW mayo gives me indigestion)

For those of you who have your own brand of this story (and sadly this is just one of mine), I feel your pain. But we all have to realize how fortunate we are. Hard to understand this sometimes, but we truly ARE the lucky ones. Yes, there are hard times. But my kids, at 15 and 19 actually have all 4 grandparents.

And that my friends is a gift.

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May 20, 2008 · 5:16 pm

How to fit a 10 lb. dorm room into 5 lbs of luggage

Unbelievable! 9 months have passed since we left her standing there on State Street to begin her new life.

9 months! It took that long to grow her 19 years ago. All I can say is that I am thankful that she did not accumulate this much stuff in utero.

This room is not that big, and she only inhabited half of it, how could she possibly have THIS MUCH STUFF!

Enter… THE SPACE BAG. (this needs music in the background)

My friends, these are the Spanx of packing! And why, must I ask, am I always in the business of reducing things to small spaces? I discovered these when we moved her out there. They became a mild obsession. I spaced bagged everything in sight. The dog was quite nervous.

You cram the stuff into them and virtually suck the air out. Down coat,…less than an inch thick. Comforter… paper thin. Underwear… non existent.

Space Bags…priceless.

This experience took on somewhat of a game show atmosphere. Buy boxes and packing materials in the lobby of the dorm at highly inflated prices. Run upstairs and pack everything that is to be stored, dry cleaned, laundered and shipped in less than 23 hours, applying the bar code labels from the equally inflated storage company. Climb over roommate and her mother doing the same thing. All in a 10×12 space. Everybody circle to the left.

Cram remaining items in existing luggage. Drink heavily. Repeat in August.

Which brings me to…

May is the new June and August is the new September.

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May 14, 2008 · 4:06 pm

child support

here is a new take on that concept. my daughter, being thrilled with the whole idea of the blog, sends me this IM:

stand by your mom

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