A Mom's Life

Today was just another blizzard condition day in UpState New York. I'm pretty sure I saw Puxatawney Phil roadside building a snowman as we crawled home from work. As the wind shield wipers creaked rhythmically back and forth, we listened to NPR's " Frrrressh Air!"-today's broadcast an interview with a writer and his son who is a recovering meth - amphetamine addict. During one part of the interview the father described a brain aneurysm he had amidst his son's drug addiction. While he could not remember his own name, he repeatedly asked the nurses to call his son to make sure he was ok . When he could remember almost nothing about himself and his life, this father knew was he was a parent and his child needed him. When all he had was pure instinct, his inner parent became more prominent than his own identity. If I meet a new daycare staff member I often skip my name entirely and introduce myself as " Caroline's mom". Why do I need a n...

Over the weekend I had "my hour". Sixty whole minutes at the gym including 30 on the new treadmill and the latest In Style magazine to read while I sweat it out to my itunes. I happily flipped and thumped along, checking out the latest hand bags and arm cuffs until I got to an article about Katie Holmes. I had to flip back and forth several times to admire one of my favorite Hollywood pieces of eye candy. How can she and I have children almost the same age and she can look like that and have run a marathon this year? No matter what we all tell ourselves about celebs, we still envy them or just can't help but stare at their image in a magazine and read all about how they've found themselves via religion, rehab or marriage to Tom Cruise. My favorite part of the article was Katie recalling Suri's birth story. She says something about how supportive Tom was by placing candles and picture frames around the room. That's helpful? If Andy was lighting candles during ...

I just got back from a week on a bus trip with 40 college students. It was my first time away from Caroline and it was excrutiating. I've known about the trip for months but nothing could prepare me for the stress and heart break of leaving my baby for a week mixed with the dangerous cocktail of becoming the mother of a gaggle of 18-22 year olds for five days. The morning I left, I choked back tears as Caroline gave me a limp wristed good bye and shook her Weeble in my direction. Prior to the trip my sanity had been slipping from me as I fielded anxious calls from parents about fulfilling their child's hopes and dreams during the trip and hinting that my behind would be on the line if things didn't go as promised. That morning I was crying about missing my baby but maybe crying even more about taking on the responsiblity of 80 other parents' babies. As I sat on the bus loaded with sleeping, hoody-wearing, ipod-clad students, I wondered how I got into my current situatio...