I remember years ago seeing a clip from Jon Leguizamo’s one man show in which he talks about his mother reaching a point in her life when she was “no longer about re-production, but about ME-production”. That phrase has stuck with me through the years, not only because it was hilarious, but also because I have eagerly awaited the day when my own life could once again become about, well, me. It’s so easy for us moms to lose ourselves (...Read More)
About LisaLisa, who hails from Rhode Island, is what has come to be known as a “Beta Mom”, exploring what is "good enough" when it comes to parenting. She, along with Beta Dad, is shooting for happy, well-adjusted children, but there are days when they'll settle for children who haven’t committed a felony. Most days her son "the Monkey" (b.1998) and her daughter "the Ladybug" (b.2001), fit that bill. In the Beta house matching socks are not a requirement as much as a pleasant surprise and Super Nanny is educational television. There are days when Lisa dreams about being that super mom striding through the grocery story with her perfectly groomed children, carefully selecting her soy-based, gluten-free, organic, farm-raised groceries. That's usually right before she rips into the bag of oreos straight from the grocery cart, looks at her happy kids and knows she's doing just fine.
Recently we packed up the family and took a short trip to New York City. What better way to spend a few lovely days in Spring than to stroll the streets of Manhattan, take in a couple of shows, visit a museum or two, eat some good food and do a little shopping? Just me, the Hub, the Monkey and the Ladybug. And 100 high school students. Every couple of years the Hub—a high school choral teacher —and his colleagues (...Read More)
One of the times that I find the Ladybug to be at her sweetest is when I first wake her up in the morning. Flush from sleep, she still embodies just the slightest trace of the baby she once was, orienting herself, yawning wide, sighing contentedly and presenting me with a toothy grin. Some mornings I rub her back to get her moving, maybe tickle her toes or kiss her fingers, but it is all part of what I find (...Read More)
Like many parents, I spend my time trying to dually cope with the present —“Mom, the dog just threw up something that looks like a Barbie”—and the future —“Mom, this is my boyfriend… we call him ‘Dog.’” Mostly I worry about the middle of the night phone calls. Not the ones bearing tragic news, God forbid. No, I worry mostly about the ones that begin with “Mom, I need bail money.” Now, I have truly great children. Kind, generous, loving (...Read More)
“Parenting is the most important job you’ll ever have.” I hear this all the time; people waxing poetic about the importance of raising good children. They’re our future, you know. No pressure. I find it ironic that the world’s most important job has the world’s most indefinite job description. There’s no handbook, no instructions, no boundaries and very little regulation. Kids learning to work the fry machine at McDonald’s get more job training than parents. Oh sure, plenty of people (...Read More)