Tag Archives: birthdays

Twenty-three

My daughter is 23.

There I said it. That was not easy. How can this be? The curly-headed little girl that used to boss us all around is now really a grown up. Like taking the 6:45 train go to work everyday kind of grown up. Like getting back a tax refund kind of grown up (lucky girl).

I have always said that the first 5 years of parenting lasts forever and after that it flies by so fast you don’t know what hit you.

Happy birthday to the one who knows me best, keeps me in line, chills me out, shares the ups and downs and still makes me laugh every day. (well almost every day). 

For those who are saddened by the idea of their kids growing up, here is some wonderful news. It gets better every year.

Love you Petuney. May your dreams all come true, even if they are taking a little detour on the 6:45 right now.

Happy 23!

 

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Time to Cry Tuesday – The Cure of Friendship

It has been a rough 2 weeks. For those who do not read regularly, we lost our dog suddenly. It has been very hard on me and I felt as if the sadness would never lift. There has been a heaviness in my chest that felt permanent and it worried me.

Until this weekend. I was lucky enough to be included in a birthday celebration for a very special friend. (and the bonus was it was near my brother and sister-in-law, so we got to spend some wonderful time together beforehand)

Nine women traveled from near and far to join together and celebrate. We were all tied by our love of this woman and the many ways in which she is special to us. Nine woman – some of whom knew only one or two people there before we arrived – all left with eight new friends. All sorts of both interesting and ridiculously outrageous conversation ensued. Hours of laughter and lots of great food and wine helped to accelerate what became one of the most extraordinary evenings I have ever experienced.

Her husband and sons graciously got the hell out of there  slept out so we could have the house to ourselves. Our wonderful chef prepared tapas paired with incredible wine choices. He got quite an earful with the topics we discussed. In true James Bond form we should have killed him at the end of the evening.

Instead we all followed him on twitter and promised to tell all our followers how great his food was. (we can be that way)

On my long ride home I thought a lot about what made the evening such a success. How could nine otherwise unrelated women all come to an event like this at our age… and sleep over! I think the answer was clear – because our friend is just the type of person you would do that for. I arrived there knowing that the conversation would be both stimulating and outrageous. That the topics would range from raising kids, teens, young adults to dealing with aging parents; career paths, art, music, life choices, of course social media and yes dying dogs. No topic was taboo yet every one of them was met with tolerance, empathy and a big dose of not taking ourselves all that seriously. Each one of us brought to the table their varied experiences and the humor to get through just about anything.

And most of us have.

A huge thank you to my dear friend’s sister-in-law and husband who made this happen. I feel truly honored to have been a part of this and grateful for the new friendships made.

Oh yeh, and thanks for the biggest jam-master hangover I have had in a long time… it was surely worth it.

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Nineteen

Today marks the beginning of the last year I will have a teenager! That’s right, my boy is 19 today. I labored with this boy through my entire birthday and he was born at 1AM, leaving him to not have to share his  special day. It is hard to believe that we have reached this stage already. I have always said that the first 5 years of their lives lasts an eternity and after that it flies by in the blink of an eye.

The picture above is from his 10th birthday. This photo is the essence of Danny. Even though he looks more like the photo below these days, his core being is captured in the little carefree face on this cake.

Here’s to you, my boy. You are patient, kind, analytical, funny, thoughtful, responsible, silly at times (ok and maybe a bit of an idiot at others, but aren’t we all) and oh such a joy to raise. Sometimes I wonder who is raising who. As you’re 4th grade teacher once said, “Danny is a happy go lucky deep thinker.”

I could not ask for a better son. I love you more than life itself. Have a blast for your birthday and for goodness sake, BE CAREFUL.

(Hey, I am still a mom)

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You say it’s your birthday…

August 15th is a big day around these parts. It just happens to be the day that I am picking up my boy, and my girl’s boy from camp. But that is not all, today is MY MOM’S BIRTHDAY!

So kiddies, whether you know her or not, I would love nothing more than for you to wish my mommy a very happy birthday. For if you knew her, there would be no better present than tons of wishes. (FYI, if you are reading this on facebook or email, please take the time to click over to the actual blog comments so she can read them all, thanks)

Mom, the picture in this post is one of Jana’s special shots of your favorite place.

And of course there will be cake.

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21 years ago today…

… I took off my jewelry and nail polish, did not wear any make up, and marched into the hospital for a scheduled c-section.

I liked to think of it at the time as the Jewish girl’s version of natural childbirth.

You see, the strong-willed, confident, decided personality of my amazing daughter were the very traits that kept that little breech baby from turning around in utero. Even after an external version, which in my opinion is not a valid medical practice. They tried to turn her at around 8 months and on the sonogram I am pretty sure I saw her move half way around,  stick out her tongue, give us the finger, then turn right back.

It is hard for me to fathom that today I am the parent of a 21-year-old. I could ramble on with all that Sunrise, Sunset, is this the little girl I carried stuff but honestly, I don’t think Dr. Jimmy could bear it. And truthfully, I am on the verge of launching her brother.

In the name of not starting to cry now through the end of June I will remain truly happy that my girl is finishing her semester abroad and celebrating her birthday in the middle of hundreds of Flamenco dress clad women during yet another festival holiday in Sevilla.

So instead of turning this into a Time to Cry Sunday, I will use this post to ask each and every one of you out there –even the non-commenting all time lurkers – to come out of the woodwork and wish my girl, my first born, Jana, a very happy birthday. Maybe this will help make up for the fact that Fed Ex did not deliver her package in time even though I paid the national debt to get it there.

Some lame excuse about a volcano.

Anyway, Janny-girl, this is what you will find when you finally get that box.

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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Time to Cry Tuesday – It’s Only a Number

number

“Not bad for 99”, said the old woman in front of me at the supermarket as she gestured towards her husband counting out his change.

“99?!” I said, how old are you?” She told me that she was 95, he would be 100 in November and they would be married 76 years that same month. All I could think was that either Gary or I will surely run one or the other over with the car before then I hope to have such a long, happy marriage. Seventy-six years of marriage, YIKES!

Honestly, these people looked like they were in their early 80s. “He does all the cooking now. I did it the first half of our lives but he finds it relaxing and I just do the wash and the ironing now. Maybe a little dusting now and then.”

Now, here is a little something you do not know about me. It is more than a coincidence as it has been happening my whole adult life. At times when I am most stressed or aggravated, perhaps suffering from some good old-fashioned self pity, I get a sign. No seriously, I do. It is not that I am all that religious, moderately I would say, but I am spiritual. And I do pay attention to the signs.

So here is the thing. I could be having a rotten day, things can be going all sorts of wrong and then I will see a blind man get on a subway. Or someone with two canes walking down the street. All kinds of disabilities show up in my line of vision just as I am feeling good and sorry for myself.

And that is when I look up and say, “OK, I get it.”

So back to my little old couple, who by the way were driving which did concern me, but I digress. I was in the supermarket off schedule. I was racing from a soccer game in the rain to a Saturday night affair with an hour to shower, hair and make up. Oh and of course Spanx which take up 15 minutes of that hour. If you have ever put on Spanx you know what I mean. I realized that I did not have dinner for the drenched and famished soccer player so I stopped off to pick something up.

I was driving and thinking about turning 50. Not one to usually care about the numbers, this year was no exception. Until just then. And I thought, hell, 50 is old. I mean not out of it, life is over, drama queen, where has my youth gone kind of old. Just old. Or maybe old(ish).

And then there they were. My sign. The fact was these people were twice my age. And ironing for G-d sake! Seriously, get over yourself, kid!

To add to the attitude adjustment there were the 2 trips to the DMV today (a story for another time), that made me realize that in that context I was a totally young, skinny, babe.

So in celebration of turning 50 I will reaffirm my favorite thought:

There is no reality. Only perception.

Here’s to perception!

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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Hijack this blog

born-to-blog

There is nothing like good friends. Even ones who threaten to hijack your blog. Who better to take over and pseudo guest post than the infamous First Thursdays?

These divas throw a hell of a birthday celebration. Check out the framed picture above that they had done for me. (Fyi, I blog under my maiden name, but I First Thursday under the married one).

I think I look pretty good on Springsteen’s body. Just to give you an idea of how diverse we are, I photoshopped the last person onto Giselle’s body. Hey, whatever blows your hair back, right?

In honor of the last day in my 40s I give you some suggestions that were made for blog reworking, along with some other comical writings that were part of my birthday roast – First Thursday style:

Blog Days:

Time to get out of the basement Monday

Time to cry Tuesday (and oldie but goodie)

Time to leave the zip code Wednesday

Time for a little laugh Thursday

Time to vent Friday (this could be a great one)

Time to workout Saturday

and a favorite for all the husbands out there, mine for sure:

Time for “a little head would be nice” Sunday.

And since all you readers know me pretty well by now, I will share their “top ten things Amy will never do now that she is 50 list”

1. Go to spin class (safe bet)

2. Play tennis with Jo (safer bet, she would kill me)

3. Have lunch at the club (I should be so lucky to get out of that one – the minimum haunts me)

4. Go to Bergdorf’s with Maddee and Michelle (ok, I admit it, I did say I thought Berdgorf’s closed. I had a moment of confusion with Bonwits, so shoot me)

5. Go to South Beach with the First Thursday Girls (sorry girls, montauk maybe, south beach, not so much)

6. Discuss again… to be rich or thin? (don’t ask)

7. (this one I will omit to protect the innocent(ish) Hey, we all still have to live in this town!)

8. Not blog or tweet for the day. (Why would I consider this? Jeez!)

9. Get out of the basement (this one I am starting to do, I swear)

10 BOTOX! (this one is a given)

Thank you, my friends, for a great night from the women who will always keep me on my toes and will NEVER let me fall. I love you all!

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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