Category Archives: parenting

July 22, 2008 · 4:54 pm

Do Not Flush Tampons… EVER

This one is pretty clear. It is the ‘EVER’ that really scares me into never even thinking of flushing a tampon. Funny, but I don’t even use them anymore (sans uterus) but I still feel guilty about all the ones I flushed in those very toilets 30 years ago.

As I have proven before, nothing funnier than a tampons post (unless maybe you count a flying penis).

This is an actual sign from the bathroom at my daughter’s camp, although I must admit that I took this shot a few years ago and found it in the camp archives. No matter, the message is timeless.

Imagine running a girl’s camp in the mountains. Now imagine being the plumber for the person that runs the girl’s camp in the mountains. It is safe to say this guy spends 80% of his time, not trout fishing in the lake, but tampon fishing in the toilets. I am thinking he probably must be mighty cranky about spending his summer this way. How considerate of these girls to try to end his plight.

Another great thing about this shot that is lost at this size and resolution is the graffiti. For decades we have been told not to write on these walls, but we cannot help ourselves. (the arts and crafts shack has my name all over the place). You can’t see it clearly but to the right of the sign it reads:

“jayme penis (hearts) ryan petafile insest’.

OOOOOK then. Spelling issues aside, are we not just a little bit worried about Jayme and Ryan here?

2 Comments

Filed under family, humor, parenting, signage, women

Tagged as , , , , , , , ,

July 21, 2008 · 12:22 am

Busting Chops


(I’m back – for those of you who might have missed me) Just returned from 4 days in the Adirondacks visiting the kids at camp. No cell service/no internet! More on that at a later date. 

Throughout history there have been revivals of a ridiculous sideburn fashion called ‘mutton chops’ for the obvious reason that the guy looked – well, pretty much like he had a little lamb hanging off his face.

For some reason – probably just because they can (or in some cases, kinda can) – 16-year-old boys at my son’s camp try out the growing of facial hair. Danny embraced this custom with a little more enthusiasm than his genetics would allow. (see above) He made a valiant effort at a goatee as well. Seemed there was simply more space than hair for the poor guy.

That said, on first seeing my daughter and asking how her brother was doing she said, “ his facial hair is soooo not ok.” She is usually very supportive but in this case I have to admit she was not too far off.

When I saw it, I was amused by the fact that my youngest was actually old enough to make this attempt. As the first day of visiting progressed we received all sorts of commentary about ‘Levinson’s Chops’. The older guys and most of his peers were supportive. The girls? Hands down felt they had to go. There were even requests to his counselors to shave him in his sleep (I think that was made by my daughter).

Danny? He appeared to enjoy the discussion without showing any signs of ego. I love this guy. He rises above it all and has a good time with it.

Saturday morning they were gone. I assume he was proud of his first attempt, felt the need to share it with us, but had grown tired of the growing.

This whole thing made me think, wow I am the mom of a facial hair grower. There I was, visiting the place I loved so much as a child. A place where so many rights of passage occurred in my own adolescence. This was our last visiting day at camp! Next year he will be a counselor. And she, well, she may be ready to move on after ten years.

Right there it occurred to me that I was aging out of this camp for the second time in my life.

I suppose you never stop the bittersweet job of growing up.

3 Comments

Filed under family, fashion, humor, parenting, trends

Tagged as , , , , , , , ,

June 30, 2008 · 7:12 pm

Sleepaway. 10 for 2.

As I mentioned in my Jeep packing post, BOTH my kids left this time.

Sleepaway camp, that kidtopia in the mountains of upstate NY that they dream of all year. 10 for 2 translates into living 10 months in anticipation for the 2 that they are at camp.

For anyone who has never experienced this, and certainly parents who did not have sleepaway in their childhoods, it sounds absurd to send your kids away for the summer. Mine both started at 10. It is his 7th summer and her 10th! She is a third year counselor and group leader and he is a waiter. Waiter/waitress summer is the ultimate summer at this camp. They define themselves by this year, he will forever be an ’08 and she an ’05. I met someone recently who went there and he told me he was an ’88. I had to explain to others what that meant.

At breakfast yesterday a friend asked me to explain this camp. What was the lure that kept these kids coming back year after year, some well through their college years, others through grad school and sometimes beyond if they are teachers.

This friend happens to be the grandmother of 2 ‘legacy/legend’ counselors at the boys camp. One of them is 24, has graduated UPENN and taught in South America for the past year. My point being, this is no lazy slouch. In trying to explain, I told her this:

To start, I went to this camp. I know first-hand what keeps them going back. My husband, brother, in-law siblings, cousins and even my mother and aunts went there. My kids are known as third generation (a prized status, I might add). There is actually a fourth generation family. We are very jealous.

So what is the IT? The best explanation would be the sense of family, of belonging to a place and it to you. A culture of acceptance that no matter who you are or where you come from, this place is yours. Athlete, musician, artist, actor, outdoorsperson, offbeat personality, wise-ass – they are all accepted and embraced equally for who they are. This place is the level playing field where kids form relationships with other kids they would otherwise never hang with. Relationships there last a lifetime. Our kids are friends with the children of our camp friends!

Many camps can make this claim. But when you see generation after generation sending their kids, the proof is in that action. Some claim it is a marital dealbreaker. If the spouse does not agree to send their unborn kids to this camp the wedding is off (you think I am kidding, don’t you?)  A few years ago I asked my son why one of his counselors did not come back and he said, “oh mom, he had to be a lawyer” This kid had been in law school and still going back!

30+ years later when I step foot on that turf I have a sense of coming home. Of being somewhere that makes me feel that I have finally struck a balance.

There is no greater joy than to watch your kids experience that kind of childhood euphoria that you have known. When they tell you about their time there, they know that you fully understand. It is a bond that transcends the parent-child relationship. You are them and they are you. What a gift!

It is bittersweet when they leave us now. They are at an age where they do not compromise our lifestyle, rather they enhance it. When they were younger (and needier) we counted the days to have our time to ourselves. Now we feel the void in a different way, maybe one of foreshadowing.

But we still have the same response when other parents ask us what we do all summer without our kids…

Whatever the hell we want!

18 Comments

Filed under family, friendship, parenting

Tagged as , , , , , , ,

June 29, 2008 · 5:13 pm

How many Jews does it take to pack a Jeep?

Or as my father-in-law says, “Seven Jews, Nine Opinions”.

I guess you could say as a tribe we have a tendency to over control a situation and discuss our options ad nauseum.

Yes, my friends, once again I find myself reducing things into small spaces. This is the abbreviated version of the dorm room packing. My daughter (and her stuff) are on the move again. And this time she is taking my son with her. Sleep away camp! (more on this in my next post).

Picture this. A bright and sunny Saturday morning in June (the mother’s month from hell). In the past 30 days I have helped her pack and move home from college, pack (a minimal amount of stuff) for a 10-day trip to Israel, and now, after sending the oversized trunk and duffle up to the adirondacks via trucking company, we are in the business of trying to fit 4 19-year-olds and their weekend of stuff in a Jeep. The catch here is that the plan is to go camping at the Dave Matthews concert on the way. So along with all the other nonsense du jour, we must find a place for the tent. (note the ihome in the middle of everything, this is a very rustic camp we are talking about here).

There we were, four girls and their parents (and of course the dog), everyone (including the dog) with an opinion (or two) of what should go where in the car.

My daughter, “Guys, did I not tell you to pack light?”

The only solid piece of advice from the whole experience was from the mom who suggested that putting the tent at the bottom was probably not a great idea since that was the item that needed to be taken out first. (she must have had practice with this).

A half hour later and many discussions about ‘the best way to get to Saratoga” (Jews also love to talk about how they have the best route to… anywhere, actually, must be all those years of wandering) they are on their way.

Oh, and of course they never went camping. When a guy from camp offered a place to stay at his parents summer home on Lake George AND a ride to the concert to boot, the well placed tent seemed less than desirable.

Anybody else jealous of her life?

2 Comments

Filed under family, humor, parenting

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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 ; )

19 Comments

Filed under family, friendship, parenting, trends, women, work

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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.

15 Comments

Filed under family, humor, parenting

Tagged as , , , , , ,

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!

2 Comments

Filed under family, humor, parenting, women

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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.

10 Comments

Filed under aging parents, family, humor, parenting

Tagged as , , , , , , , , ,

June 10, 2008 · 2:30 pm

Chairman of the Basement

Those who know me are fully aware of my subterranean life. I work in a home office in the basement. I click the mouse, pick the colors and bang the keyboard for way too many hours a day.

It has its advantages. Let’s see, I am not distracted by windows or changes in weather. I can stay focused. There is no real time, I can simulate night or day at my own whim.

There are times when I think, ‘please G-d get me out of here’. But mostly I am happy with the set-up. Sometimes towards the end of a weekend I get a little heady from being above ground too long. Too much daylight and fresh air maybe. I do occasionally worry that this controlled environment makes me, what I like to refer to as a ‘social recluse’. Don’t get me wrong, I love people, I just prefer extended periods of time with my dog during the week.

This could be why I love this blogging thing. I guess you could say that the social recluse branches out without upsetting the agoraphobic apple cart. (there could also be a good chance that I am certifiably insane, but we will talk about my mental health at a later date).

During a conversation with the First Thursdays (you will hear about them soon) about working women, we got on the topic of breaking the glass ceiling. There is no glass ceiling in the basement (rather dangerous, no?) The conversation went around the table about achievements of women, famous and those we know personally. At times like those I sometimes feel a slight regret about where my career could have gone if I did not have a family.

But then I realize that I may not have climbed the ladder and broken that ceiling (which sounds quite painful, actually), but I have created a balance that enabled me to do what I do (whatever that is), make a good living, feel a sense of professional fulfillment and still be, not only the Chairman of the Basement, but also the kind of mom I needed to be to my kids. (And of course if I carry dog biscuits at board meetings I can get the dog to vote my way).

Net of it all for me? I can always turn up the steam and work my butt off, but I can’t get back my little kids. Or my tweens. Or my teenagers (yes, I happen to love having teenagers. perhaps because they get my sophomoric humor best).

Don’t get me wrong, I do not preach that women cannot have it all. They can. AND SHOULD. It just needs to be the all that THEY choose. Hey, some of best friends carry the windex up there! (a glass ceiling should always be clean).

I will end this ramble with a plea to all women (and men for that matter). Can we stop being our own worst enemies. Working moms criticizing stay-at-homes for giving up their lives; stay-at-homes criticizing working for not being there enough.

Everyone has their own ride. Let’s support each other for our choices and be cool about it.

23 Comments

Filed under humor, parenting, women, work, work habits

Tagged as , , , , , , , , ,

May 26, 2008 · 1:22 pm

EVERYONE loves a girl fight

Dinner table conversation:

Danny (15): There was another girl fight at school today

Me: No kidding. That is terrible. Wasn’t there one last week, too.

Danny: Yeh, the principal actually had to push me aside to get to the fight to break it up.

Me: What were you doing there?

Danny: Trying to get a good look

My husband: EVERYONE loves a girl fight!

Me: (typical fire shooting out of my eyes step away from the children look across the table) You ARE kidding me, right?

Danny: I am usually with you on things mom, but dad is right, EVERYONE loves a girl fight!

This would fall under the category of me thinking that my husband is nuts until I began to tell the story. All of my male friends gave me the look like, “I know how I am supposed to react as an evolved non- neanderthal man in the year 2008, but really Amy, EVERYONE loves a girl fight”. I am not talking about the macho, sexist sterotypical, man’s man type guys. I am talking, almost (well actually all) of them. We were at a beautiful upscale affair on saturday night and there is my husband talking to two of our more sophisticated intelligent guy friends and I walk over to hear, “Amy, we are sorry but EVERYONE loves a girl fight.”

I suppose I will end this topic with the other amazing phenomenon that I have noticed amongst men of all walks of life. The answer to every question you ask a man can always be answered with…

“A little head would be nice”

“Honey, can you take out the garbage?

“Sure, but a little head would be nice first?”

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“As a matter of fact, a little head would be nice”

“My family is coming over, can you make sure there is gas in the grill”

“Your family? Well, I would think a little head would be nice first”

To quote Nana Julia “Men…”

(I believe the second half of that sentiment was …they should all hang from one rope)

18 Comments

Filed under humor, parenting, women

Tagged as , ,