I know nothing about football.
My husband knows everything there is to know about football.
As my children get older, more and more, I rely on those bits of parenting wisdom my mom unknowingly doled out while she faced new challenges with her own children.
Recently, I conducted a little experiment. So I Googled "most popular idioms." A photo of Sarah Palin popped up. Stupid spellcheck. So I changed the "t" to an "m" and resumed my experiment.
For several years now, I've been fascinated by all the "organic" offerings in my sister-in-law's home.
I've been on a mission since the birth of my first child almost 15 years ago. As hard as I've tried to complete this mission, I fall short every time. Actually, I fall head first into a big bowl of Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey or pan of brownies whatever is closest.
The first week of 2016 is upon us. And unlike all the other years before, this year I've resolved to do something that is probably the craziest (yet sanest) things I've ever done.
Instead of the same boring goals like, "I want to lose 15 pounds" or "organize every drawer, closet, bank account" or "more reading, less television," this year I've decided to create a doable, more exciting list for 2016.
Birthdays come and go... you hope
I turned 29 years old the other day. And by other day, I mean years and years ago. But it sure seems like it was yesterday.
Now that he is halfway through his junior year in high school, the countdown for college is on for my oldest. While we remind him on regular basis to study, volunteer and research colleges, he is quick to remind us about his career goals.
Everyone is thankful for something. Even on the day of Thanksgiving, when 40 members of your family are talking loud, complaining about the food temp, and wondering "out loud" if the serving dish used for stuffing belongs to them.
Two little words that can bring our entire household to a standstill.
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Mainly because it's all about food and less about buying the perfect gift. The one day of the year when calorie intake doesn't count and it's perfectly acceptable to wear stretchy pants for four days straight. This year is no different.
A few days ago a very interesting story started trending online... again. It's one that dominates water-cooler conversations, late-night punchlines and everyone's social media feed. "Man donates testicle for a $35,000 payout."
More than two decades ago, as we were standing at the alter getting married, my minister, who had known me all my life, turned to my soon-to-be husband and said, "we all have our cross to bear in life, and, I promise, Angel is going to be yours!"
I'm rushing home with a carload of grocery bags filled with 822 separate ingredients for a dish I volunteered to prepare for a get-together. And why? Because it looked heavenly in a copy of Bon App'etit I swiped from the gynecologist's office earlier in the week. In the back seat sits an 11 year old who isn't talking to me because I said "no" to a sleepover. Up front, sits a 16 year old laughing at something a friend just texted that I probably wouldn't approve of. As we pull in the garage, I mentally start going through my list.
There's something easy about traveling with your nuclear family. No grandma, no grandpa, no aunts, uncles, no cousin twice removed. Just you and the kids. Easy in the sense that there's no expectations of how to behave. You're in your comfort zone because you share your life with these people day in, day out. They know you will order dessert at every meal on vacation. You know deep sea fishing isn't worth the money but totally worth it for the memories.
They told me it would happen. My sisters, my brother, my friends, strangers in line at the grocery. I didn't listen. In fact, I despised those words, "You're going to miss this stage."
Over the last three years, I've learned so many things about my dad. But two stand out the most.
So the text from my friend Caroline went something like this: "Handgun classes and kickboxing! You go girl! What's next? Eating number 5 at Pad Thai?"
This past Wednesday we moved our eldest into her new home away from home for the next four years.
You read that right. After a very uneventful two weeks waiting for something funny, dangerous, or even inspiring to happen...nothing. I started and stopped about 30 different story ideas. This happens sometimes but this time...nothing.
There's rarely an occasion my boys and I can have a conversation where they aren't trying to talk over each other or fighting. I never know where these times of curious questioning and mostly peaceful exchanges will lead but since I fancy myself a cool parent nothing is off limits.
I had a terrible dream last night. You were leaving for a trip. A trip alone. A trip without us; your parents and little brother. We were getting ready to check bags when the attendant asked for your passport. We forgot it. I panic, offering to pay whatever in order to get a "quickie passport" printed at the gate.
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