My first foray into the Midwest in nearly three years, it’s hard to believe I’ve been gone that long. Yet one trip to the grocery store, fumbling through the radio channels in the car (Hey! That’s my high school’s station!), navigating the city’s roundabouts (which have street signs that look like some sort of caveman drawing or Panama City high-school spring break tattoo-all squiggles and circles and arrows pointing to maybe outerspace), and shrinking in size as I enter into a massive building, bigger than some city blocks, I’m instantly knocked into a stupor. I have been gone awhile!
I must have looked like a contestant on one of those shopping spree shows where they make you run around the grocery, invariably wide and wild-eyed, scanning your brain for some way to tie all of the millions of possibilities together in a coherent, successful meal plan. I tried to spend as little time as possible, just picking up the essentials that my kids would eat for the week and makings of a couple of dinners, but it was easy to get caught, staring a wall of produce, then swiveling around and staring at the islands of produce behind me, wondering, what the hell is the difference? And why are there so many choices? And, two-part question: Are the prices over there better, and if there is a chance that they are, do I have the energy to run back and forth finding that out? It was a time-space warp of consuming dilemma. I left the cheese guy wondering whether I said half pound or quarter pound while I ran back, for the third time, and yes, literally running, to grab bread to add to my dad’s planned dinner menu.
I don’t know. I did the best I could. And the cheery, though a bit dull, young man who took my groceries to my car told me that if I shopped there I could get used to that kind of treatment, and that he hoped I came there often, even though I had just explained I lived in New York City.
So a week in the burbs begins. To give you a taste of the trip so far (and it hasn’t been 24 hours yet) We’ve already you-tubed the following set of instructions:
1. How to rig a sunfish sail-boat
2. How to sail a sunfish sail-boat
3. How to overturn capsized sunfish sailboat
You-tube will get you into trouble, and hopefully it will get you out.
I’ve also shown Rome such suburban novelties as, while standing in the living room, saying, “Look at this Rome, you can just open a door, and then you are outside!” A trick he has utilized countless times already (They need a doggy door here!)
Also, while space is nice, it’s a lot more exercise managing two children in this space and the little one always thinks he is being abandoned when we leave the living room to go get a glass of water or something like it, so he has been very vocally concerned.
So, while New York City is obviously a bad-ass place to live, boy aren’t the suburbs so relatively easy? You may not be a bad-ass living here but you will certainly be more relaxed and easy-going about that fact. It doesn’t seem to matter what you are when you are enjoying a drink at the of a long, fun day right here:
Good Morning my friends.
Punished by the sleep Gods for giving up and crashing with the children at 9 p.m. last night, I am up at 5:45 this morning with a bright eyed and bushy tailed 9 month old, who, actually didn’t wake me up at all between 10 p.m. and 5:45 a.m. I’ll take it.
Gael loves music. This is something you need to know about him for safety purposes, in case you ever put rocking music on while he is, say, holding on to a table, he will begin head-banging to the music, and even if he loses his grip as a result of raucos head-banging, he will continue and thus may impose his forehead into the nearest solid object.
This kid is so hilarious. He dances to the weather music on NY1. In the park, we heard a drum circle from a while away but as soon as he got the beat he started bopping. A commercial comes on, he’s moving. If his Dad puts on some favorite tunes, he’s there on his knees rocking in rhythym while his Dad bobs his own head. More proof Gael is just like Papa.
He’d also like to be talking but only manages a Mamamama or Dadada once in while. His most common discussion goes like this, “Ba ba ba BA! Ba! Ba!” If we are shouting across the apartment, he will too.
Rome is entering the terrible 2′s, 3′s, whatevers. He was a wonderful two year old and now we are nearing three and he’s experimenting with all those possible emotions and contradictions.
So that’s fun. It makes me realize that parenting isn’t about doing a great job taking care of your children as much as the goal is to teach them to do a great job of taking care of themselves. I try to tell Rome things like, “If you can’t get what you want, think of something else you want that you might be able to get.” And constantly, “Say that in your normal voice.” “Ask that in a nice way!” “Nicer!” I don’t know if it’s working, but I hope it does. Whining in an already high voice is just too much!
Two/Three year olds are so smart for being such big babies.
Anyways, I’m back to fending off this 9 month old, who, I engage in play across the room and he ignores me but as soon as I come over here, he’s making a beeline for me.
And what more could a mother really ask for anyways? We had a nice family brunch on Saturday with Grandma-Mom which left Sunday free to fill with whatever we wanted at whatever pace we wanted – an unusual treat. I took Rome jogging to the park to play while Gael took his morning nap. It was gorgeous that day.
Anyways, that’s a lot of what we’ve been up to – enjoying the growing kids and warming weather.
My “double” stroller. It’s so much cheaper than a real double stroller and more exciting, because you never know who is going to fall out first!
Good morning. It’s a beautiful day. Spring at it’s best – sun and warmth and green, green, green — all made more beautiful by their proximity in time to a string of gray rainy days.
I had trouble getting on my way to work this morning, as Rome was being particularly engaging and fun. We practiced silly faces and cuddled and laughed. He is so similar to me, it’s eerie. I see myself being harder or less patient with him because I always understand what he is up to. This week he was acting up, especially right before I left and right when I got home from work. We employed the thinking chair a lot.
I said to him, one might after a set of such antics, in a quiet and nice voice as it was just before bed, “Rome, I don’t like when you hit me.” And, in instant and equal measure, he said, “Mom, I don’t like when you go to work.”
Fair enough. I mean, still, no hitting, but the little man has a grip on his motivations.
Parenting has probably been the best education in growing up. No longer can you relax in blissful ignorance, naivete or half-baked back up plans. All of a sudden your wiggle room is cut short. No more messing around. Of course you could, but it likely will cause things to turn out badly. It’s time to grow up and help the next generation begin the journey to do the same. And Dear GOD, let’s hope the next generation reverts back to growing up at an earlier age compared to mine.
Thus, this weekend we celebrate one half of the mysterious equation of parenthood. It’s an unreasonable undertaking, draining all manner of resources with breakneck speed. Then, out of a mysterious well, a parent discovers a secret spring of patience, love, and determination to see their children through.
My mother has borne untold stress and concern for us in the 30-some years of raising 4 of us, the likes of which we will never appreciate fully until we are on that side of the equation. And, partly, we have been shielded from observing the stress of it because that’s not how she rolls.
Her energy is always positive, outward, and constructive.
She’s a hoot and an amazing support and asks hardly anything bit friendship and good times together in return.
So, I salute you, Mom, in a way that makes my face scrunch up weird to avoid tears from forming and falling out while I write this on the 5 train into Manhattan.
I love you so much for everything I know you’ve done for me, us, and everything I still don’t even realize.
You are the best!
Things on my mind lately: Bacon. French Things.
Big Changes: Haircut. (Do you know how many people you upset when you cut off long hair?)
New Blog Idea: Life Look – A new chart each week to use to examine your life in greater detail.
New Business Idea: A Life Coaching business to accompanying Life Look.
Things I’m over: Rain and cold. Worrying about having a public blog.
Things I’m looking into: NYC maximization: Bronx Zoo, Governer’s Island,Top of the Rock, Concerts and Live Tapings
Recent Success: Date night. Dinner and a Movie and I didn’t even take my phone to worry about the children.
Things Rome is now into: Changing settings on the Nook, our phones. Entertaining big kids on the playground, esp. with dances moves if necessary. Break dance moves. Oh yeah.
Things Gael is now into: Everything. And his first tortilla!:
After a mild winter and a brief bout of summer, Spring has truly arrived: semi-gray days with warm sunshine passing in and out but otherwise too chilly for that new spring dress without stockings. New Yorkers are unforgiving in their glares when you wear bare legs to work on one of those not-so-warm days. But today it’s obviously cold, and wet, and rainy, so I won’t make that mistake. I’m also taking advantage of that wee hour between baby wake up and two year old wake up to sit by this open window, listen to the muffle of spring rain falling down with perfectly interspersed murmurs of quiet thunder, and sit here and say hello.
Oh yes, I also have hot coffee.
The man-baby, however, is out to get me. At under 9 months, he’s still a giant and really nothing stands in his way. Hell, he’s trying to stand up by himself. He will shoot up to a quick squat, then cautiously try to go the rest of the way up, teetering somewhere near “stand” before folding back down. With child one we couldn’t wait for him to progress to each stage. With man-child here, we’re a little alarmed at the rate. (He’s here now, standing at the couch, torn between swiping at my laptop and watching Barney on in the background. Yes, I’ll happily employ t.v. to distract.)
And they are sooo different. Gael loves to eat, and read books, and even watch Barney on t.v. (I know, I know). He doesn’t get upset if he gets hurt – only if he’s tired and you leave him – he’ll be sad. Rome was totally opposite. Not interested in any of that and a kind of was a big wuss, though he is getting a lot better rolling with the punches these days.
One thing they both have in common is stranger-startling friendliness. I took Gael on a little trip this weekend to see his Umpa and Mimi. Please don’t tell Rome, he thinks I took Gael to work with me, overnight, and he’s very jealous at that. But I took Gael on a plane to see Umpa and Mimi and it was wonderful and Rome would be heartbroken, I know. Gael, however, had a blast. From riding a stroller around the airport with flight attendants tripping over themselves smiling and laughing at him to insisting on charming everyone in the security line, he was busy and wildly successful. He even got the professional comedian sitting in first class to laugh when he played peekaboo with him using the curtain between him and our seat in coach.
Well, what else to tell you – life is still interesting, no other news from us. Well, wait, Aldo is starting his own business – one long contemplated but never acted on – financial advising “for the rest of us.” And my brother’s chocolate business is getting more creative and interesting all the time… My own reviews to come soon.
And this, my friends, turned out to be just one of those nice quiet update posts. I ran across a quote yesterday, sadly from my google email random ad links, but I liked it and it’s a simple one -
“Saddle your dreams before you ride them!” – Mary Webb
Not that we didn’t plan things out, but the past year has felt a bit, bareback, if you will. It’s just now we are really figuring out how to install a saddle on things. Overall, we’re blessed and healthy and happy though, so we won’t complain.
Hope you are as well as possible too!
Have a great Tuesday. And don’t forget your umbrella (or your stockings).


I’d like to think that failing at blogging means I’m succeeding at life. There’s too much material flying by to capture it all, or hardly any of it. In fact, I had to turn to the images captured in photo form to remind me what we’ve accomplished in the past week or so.

The man-baby at 7+ months can pull himself up at the coffee table and pull off a decent real-person impression. He is coordinating his leg movements (right, left…right, left…) so he can almost pull off a real crawl, though he looks sometimes like he just wants to start walking by the way he pushes his legs up straight into a modified downward facing dog position.

Rome, sounding and looking more like a teenager every day, got a new bike. In a fit of frustration with being always cash poor and stuck in a small space, I splurged a bought an awesome toy that would require us to get out and enjoy the warm weather. Afterall, Rome is perfectly potty trained now so he’s basically a big boy (except he is getting a little too artistic about peeing in his little potty and kind of colors outside the lines sometimes). He’s ridden the bike all the way to park and back now and is getting more comfortable with balance and maneuvering. Next is gliding.
Mom’s recovering from knee surgery fairly well though she probably pushes herself too much. She remains the boys favorite escape from their parents.
Aldo’s second batch of home brew is coming along and soon we will get to taste it, and taste it, and taste it, until suddenly we don’t know quite how we put down 30 bottles of Black IPA.




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