Musings on the three most important things in my life; my husband, my kids and my Little Yellow Notepad
“Magtile!” Screams my almost two year old.
“Magna-tiles!!” Shouts my three year old.
“Where are the rest?” Chimes in my 5 year old.
And I know my game is over; it’s time to pull them out of the garage, where I had them so nicely hidden. And I can’t help but wonder how the stray one showed up in the kitchen.
Because the truth is, I hate magna-tiles.
There, I said it.
Magna-tiles drive me crazy.
Continue reading “Mom Review: What they don’t tell you about Magna-Tiles”
There’s something they forget to tell you about in childbirth classes. Nineteen years after finishing that exhilarating and exciting class, the omission is becoming more and more glaring. It’s called TEENAGERS. They forget to tell you that the little adorable baby that you will soon hold will keep growing and then tower over you. That this little baby wrapped up so comfortably inside of you won’t fit in your lap forever. That these little beings that you carry around for 9 months, the ones you give your body and sleep away to, will have no memories of this and will never feel the gratitude that you think should be coming to you. And they don’t tell you that even though you teach them life skills and watch them develop each day, behold; teenage hood arrives. And they’re no longer actively looking for your guidance at every move and slowly they forget that you’re the one who got them there to begin with.
Continue reading “What they forget to tell you in childbirth class…”
What is it about the word “bedtime” that makes kids hungry?
I really believe kids are hardwired that way; the bedtime circuit is somehow intertwined with the hunger trigger and they just work as a team. And I’m talking full-blown-hunger hungry. The type that a kid will even eat a banana, which they always vehemently say they hate, but suddenly it’s tantalizing at the mention of getting ready for bed. They’re so famished they’d probably even eat kale or spinach. It’s true that kids today are different than they used to be, but not when it comes to bedtime.
Continue reading “Advice from a sleep specialist”
I sit up straight in my seat and hold my breath. I don’t move a muscle as my blood pressure rises and my body fills with dread. And then I hear the words again, clear as can be and there’s no mistaking. It is what I feared.
“Let’s build a tent! Let’s get our blankets and pillows and make a tent!”
The announcement is followed by cheers and a chorus of enthusiastic yays as the six brothers run off to get their gear.
And my motherly instinct is exploding. I do not want a tent! I’ve had too many shabbos tent building experiences in the past 18 years that I know the future; this will end with many little people crying. It’s hard to predict who will be the first, but I definitely know there will be tears.
Continue reading “Let’s build a tent…”
So here I was thinking that maybe, as a seasoned mom in the business for almost 20 years, I had summer overnight camp down pat.
I know how to talk myself out of the panic when I don’t see my kid in a camp picture and how to calm down even when their smile isn’t as big as I think it should be in the photo, and I know how to use my sane voice to remind myself that, “maybe they had to sneeze or something.”
I’m not going to claim to have completely overcome the worry because that’s just part of being a mother and I’ve come to embrace it, but it is more in control than it used to be.
And then, two days into the month long overnight camp, my 3rd grader called.
“Mommy, I fell and hurt my arm.”
Continue reading “Summer camp … and a cast!”
Little Yellow Notepad 