Even though I live in one of the largest cities in the country, I still like to indulge in what some might consider more rural pursuits. I home can all of my own jam and chutney (plus various pickled items). I knit 90% of our sweaters and winter accessories. I garden - as much as one can do with containers in a limited space. And I am seriously considering keeping several chickens in our tiny backyard. This is what I have always done and in the past friends have mainly viewed these activities as mildly interesting oddities, or a holdover from my (very) rural upbringing.

Not anymore.

A month ago I started working full time again. I was laid off in February and before getting the new job I freelance full time. After starting the new job, I needed to finish some lingering freelance projects and was feeling the stress of "burning the candle at both ends." Once I finished my last project I had visions of evening spent playing with my daughter before her bedtime, knitting, sewing, relaxing.

by Yogamom

Up until 2 weeks ago, we had no summer plans for S. He refused camps ALL of them. He has even rejected the idea of swim lessons. What the what? Okay, so an entire post could be written about do we or don't we insist on camps we know he would enjoy...why do we allow him to have this much say in the matter...everything isn't about negotiation, etc. etc...but alas this is not about THAT. Or is it about that he has agreed to 3 clay camps at amoa, laguna gloria and a bevvy of drop off playdates - this is a jump forward 3 or so years to sleep away camp.

This week, my husband had a lecture in the UK, which also happens to be where his family resides. We would have normally tagged along, but airfare is steep for a family of four, so he decided to just take our older son, Mr G.

That meant that D, my younger son, and I have been home without them this week. It also happened to be the last week of school--a 3-day week--so that meant plenty of time together without big brother and Daddy.

Though I tried to give D lots of treats, took him to see "Up", visited the water sprinkler park, and set up playdates, D still really missed his other half of the family. He often asked if we're going to pick up Mr G if we're going somewhere in the car, and one night in the supermarket, he cried, "I wanna go home and see Daddy and Mr G, and give them a hug."

Later in the week, he said that "Spoogee," our car, "misses Mr G and Daddy, but I don't miss Mr G and Daddy." Which I took to mean that he's adjusting to their absence, but I think we both can't wait till the other 1/2 of the family comes home in a few days.

Among the many bits of advice I've received as a mother, 'enjoy every second because it goes by so fast' rings most sage at this stage in my sons' development. I know this - How did this giant 6 year old replace the baby that I held in my arms seemingly yesterday? But in times of stress, when the boys are fighting and I just need 15 minutes to myself, I sometimes find myself rushing things in my head. 

by oneofhismoms




New York City has a strange phenomenon --  cut-throat competition for coveted spots at fancy private pre-schools.  I've always chuckled quietly to myself upon overhearing people obsessing about pre-school admissions.  I teach in a public school.  Though some public schools do deserve a bad rap, many of them, like the school in which I teach, are wonderful places -- places I wouldn't mind at all to send my child.  They're free, too.  I never thought I'd get crazy like that.  That is, until I tried to get my son into a public Pre-K class.

Today I experienced that rare and exotic treat: an afternoon to myself. It was a little overwhelming to be honest. What precipitated this event was the fact that I had a doctor's appointment in Manhattan and I had arranged for my daughter to go to a friend's house after school.

did you know that when a cat is euthanised their eyes dont close? they stay wide open for some time. it's kind of freaky if you aren't prepared for it. but i was, i've put down sabin, tofu and now enzo.

one of our cats died tuesday. i should clarify that by saying we put him down. the sadness is seemingly unbearable. it comes in waves. falling to sleep is the worse. when it is quiet there is nothing but time to think about enzo and the events that led us to his death. but this is a family show, right folks?

once we knew what we were going to do and that it was going to have to happen in short order, we made the decision to get S from school so he would have the opportunity to say goodbye (or not). when we arrived at school S was up at bat. he saw us and was happy to have us watch. he got his turn (a triple!) and then we called him over. we explained that we were there early to see if he wanted to come home and say goodbye to enzo, that as he knows enzo is sick and we are going to help him die. or i said something like that, im not sure of the details. i don't know if i can't recall what i said exactly because it was a pretty stressful moment for me or because i'd rather not think that i screwed that exchange up. i mean what do you say?! how do you not project all that you are going through?!

to my surprise S said yes, he wanted to come home and we assured him he'd go back to school shortly. he yelled to his mates "save my place!" and we got in the car.

on the way home we stopped at the bodega to get enzo a can of tuna and milk, his favorites. and of course S wanted a treat too. his was in the form of a tri-colored ice cream sandwich. i'm glad we made that stop cause when we got home enzo perked up at the sound of the tin can opening... and the fishy smell. but again, conflicted about not screwing this up for S, i wondered if it was bad to connect skipping out of school and getting ice cream with a pet's death. that modern parental angst never turns off does it?

S quickly forgot why we were home in the middle of the day so he went straight to his room to play.  we gently refocused the purpose of getting him from school mid-day and all sat in the living room with enzo. trying to stay as hands-off as possible we offered S to say anything to, or connect with enzo at this time. S shrugged. he looked a mix of confused, sad and being not all that interested. he was at a loss for words and began to squirm in his seat. we knew that was enough. he said goodbye to enzo from across the room as we walked to the car to return getting him back to the regularly scheduled program.

the rest of our afternoon was devastating. there is a mobile vet in town and she came to our house to euthanize enzo. we could determine if she was to administer the anesthetics and lethal cocktails over time or more quickly. and true to our personalities, D wanted the slow version, I wanted a quicker one. we ended up with the medium to slow. it was painfully slow, even D agreed, that it was emotionally harsh to draw it out for an hour or so. BUT in hind sight, the whole thing was very unthreatening for enzo, and intellectually i thought it a good experience to marinate in death a little bit. its never been this close to me. as i said, i've put other pets down in my lifetime, but it was more clinical and detached, at a vets office, or after a long drawn out illness where i had emotionally checked out months or weeks earlier.

back to the kid. at pick-up S and i went for a treat, this time for me. we sat silently enjoying each other's company and sugar delivery devices. on the ride home i asked him how he was doing without enzo. there was that shrug again. but then he added, i think that annick (enzo's sister, our other cat) is lucky. "all the love we had for enzo we can now give to her". and the next day, today, when i checked in with him he said "i dunno. i don't see him, so i don't miss him". thats sounds rough through my adult filter, but i can see with both comments, that in his child-like honesty is subtle wisdom.

that's S's first experience with death. and mine as a parent wanting to expose a pets death to my son in a healthy manner. all of that on top of my own mourning process. talk about multi-tasking. 

tonight, as D and i are getting a little distance on the past few day's events, we are better understanding what deciding to put our cat down means for us. we summed it up that enzo is not gone, our relationship with him has changed. that makes sense to us. and it's kind of beautiful. something i bet that would come out of a 6 y/os mouth. 

I was flipping through an issue of GQ Magazine (the one with Robert Pattinson on the cover) while getting my haircut, when I happened upon an article entitled, "The Unspeakable Choice by Wil S. Hylton." I was drawn in by the deck: "Last summer, the state of Nebraska made it legal to abandon a child. Then the children started flooding in--eleven a day at one point, from all over the country." According to the article, people were coming as far away as California and Florida to leave their children at "safe havens" in Nebraska, and that under the new law, they could not be prosecuted for doing so.

While created to protect young mothers from leaving newborns in dumpsters, these were not the parents who were taking advantage of this new law. It turned out that many of the children who were abandoned had mental illnesses, and that many of the parents saw this solution as the only way that their child might get help (because their insurance didn't cover treatment, or because they didn't have the means).

This article surprised me. Firstly, because I didn't know that it was ever OK to leave your children (Texas, where I reside, just happens to be another state that protects parents), and that so many parents were driving so far in order to do this. It made me wonder, of course, what type of parent would do such a thing. Sure, there have been times when I was so annoyed with my children, that the thought entered my mind, but I could never bring myself to actually do that. The article also made me ponder whether these parents were lazy and/or neglegent, or if this was their cry for help.

Well, this story would have to involve technology. My family, known for various intense and long-standing feuds of the traditional sort (not talking, avoiding certain streets/neighborhoods/restaurants on the off chance that the you-know-who of the moment may be there) has stepped it up a notch and is now embracing digital shunning. Yes, I am talking about Facebook.

This past week my daughter and I traveled up to MA to spend time with my parents. O lives to spend time with her Grammy and Poppy; she gets run of a whole house that has an upstairs and an upstairs (we live in a typical NY railroad apartment), a big backyard, and woods in which to explore. I love that O gets to spend so much time in the home where I was raised. The home that my grandfather built as a summer cottage. The house that was too cramped with my parents, two brothers and myself. The river down the embankment where I learned to clam, fish, and swim. It was, and is, a magical place at its core. But as with everything, things change.

She sees space and opportunity. I see age and decay. This past visit I noticed it even more: tiles needing replacement in the bathroom, dirt and cobwebs, crumbling cabinets, and a house just too big for two people.

The debate about overpraise is the meme in my circles, but does it mean you have to be an emotional scrooge and/or aloof? No! Here are some ways to say "good for you!" with out saying good for you, you know?

by Kris

I should be looking forward to this afternoon. My oldest son is being picked up from his Kindergarten class to go directly to a playdate with his best friend. She lives less than a block away from us and her sitter is fantastic - patient, kind, resourceful. I know that she can handle whatever comes along.

And boy do I fear that something will come along. And although you probably wouldn't guess it from meeting him for the first or even the second time, my son is a special needs child. Most of the time he is absolutely fine - engaging, intelligent and creative. Functional. But just when I am lulled into hoping that our problems may be lessening, it happens.

There's a new documentary chronicling the grueling process of preschool admissions in New York City: Nursery University. I'm guessing that "University" refers to the comparison to competitive college admissions, and the belief that the path to the coveted Ivy League schools begins at the exclusive nursery school. Which is why these parents are shown going to great lengths to secure a place for their children in these institutions.

Just watching the trailer makes me anxious. The recent baby boom means that there are many, many toddlers vying for the precious few spots in private pre-k. While I didn't encounter this when I lived in New York (luckily Mr G was painlessly accepted to a terrific school in Park Slope called Beansprouts), I did find this to be the case when I moved to Austin. In Texas, many moms put their babes on waiting lists when their child is in utero, hopefully timing it so that two years later, the child will be accepted. According to the film, niether expensive tuition nor the economic downturn is enough to deter folks from applying to these NY schools. On the contrary, the low odds seemed to make people more determined to get in.

I'm curious if you or anyone you know went through a similar challenging experience trying to get into a desirable nursery school.

by oneofhismoms

Oh honey, I'd love to play superhero with you, but right now mommy's too busy pushing peas through this strainer.  Not. 

Have I ever mentioned here that my son, S, isn't very forthcoming? He never has been, he isn't a chatty child, and that is especially apparent when in the company of strangers. 

by Kris

One of the biggest surprises I experienced after having children was the drastic expansion of my community. Sure, I 'lost' a few single friends who were unwilling (or disinterested) in adapting to my new diaper-centric lifestyle. But I gained oh so many more people in a world that literally shrank to a ten block square. (I could see Manhattan from my window but visited it about twice during the first year of my son's life.)

by oneofhismoms



I thought today I'd blog about sleep training.   How it sucks.  And how when the woman who gives you help with it has twins.  And when you have a friend with twins you realize that everything you do with your baby could have been twice as hard.  Or maybe I'd blog about  the two week wait advent calendar I invented.  How very proud I am of the idea, for my friends who are still TTC.  Then I had to go to a funeral today.  A funeral for a baby.  Then, I couldn't think of anything trivial.

In a few hours my son and husband leave town for a long weekend to visit my (out)laws. I have not had a weekend alone, in my home in many years. It was waaay before S was born, and even then, I truly cant recall the last time I was in my house for any substantial amount of time ALONE. And boy do I have BIG plans!

by Kris

Last year, way before I knew what truly horrible shape the economy was in, I started bypassing the type of exchange that centers on cold hard cash and began bartering for a couple of things. What skills do I have to trade, you may wonder (and I did too). Well, they're pretty darn basic - knitting and cooking - but they are standing me in good stead thus far. In fact, I am proud to say that I am now bartering for the following things:

As a parent, I'm hyper-aware that everything I do will influence my children, that everything action has a cause and effect. If I let the baby cry, will (s)he learn to self-soothe? If I only give them one dinner option, will they become less picky? If I do too much for them, will they become lazy?

This awareness makes me question every decision. For instance, should I keep them in public school, or put them in private school? Is it better for them to be in a diverse environment or to be challenged and engaged? Am I shortchanging them by not giving them the best education possible or will it be OK if I'm taking an active part in their learning?

I recall how upset I was when I wasn't able to afford my dream school because my parents hadn't saved any money for college, and wonder if my kids will resent me when they're older. I try not to obsess about things that are out of my control, but I can't help thinking about how much I was shaped by my own parents.

by oneofhismoms




No.  Not fancy Sex-in-the-City heels.  I'm talking orthotics.  $400 insoles.  How far from sexy can one woman fall?

per.mis.sive - adjective 1. habitually or characteristically accepting or tolerant of something, as social behavior or linguistic usage, that others might disapprove or forbid. 

by Kris

Because it is my best friend's 40th birthday and because there is a winter special on (buy 3 nights, get 2 free) I have arranged to spend five nights with her at a yoga retreat in the Berkshires. If you had asked me last week how I felt about it I would have said, "Excited!" But as the day of departure draws near, my forebodings increase. It's not the expense or the thought of treacherous winter travel that bothers me. And I always have a great time when my friend and I are together. In fact it's one of those rare relationships where we can be out of touch for months, even years and just pick up as if we had lunch on the previous day. The problem is that I have never been away from my two sons (ages 4 and 5) for that long before. Frankly, I'm scared.

We are just winding down a (for the most part) highly successful family vacation out on the West Coast. I say successful because if there ever was a situation that was ripe for disaster this was it: a shared household of 12 family members, complete with a nightly dinner rotation and an informal chore sharing structure. Oh, and 5 of those people are children ranging in a