A Mom's Life

Sometimes the love between two is seen in subtle ways. A gentle caress. Repeated glances. Always close by. There for you night and day, good and bad. The sound of their voice is music to your ears. I witness this true love on a daily basis and I envy it. Right before my eyes my own husband expresses his love for another...his little chocolate lover-his cell phone. If I could be anything, I think I'd like to be Andy's phone. He always keeps the phone in the inside pouch of his fuzzy fleece jacket or safe in his pants pocket. Often, when we are driving home together from work, he holds the phone in his hand and slowly rolls it open and closed with his thumb. When he's thinking, he presses it to his lips and softly blows, creating a warm film on its face. When we leave the house and he can't find the phone, he searches frantically for it. Once he has it tucked away, he reaches down in his pants to touch it over and over like an automatic, yet oddly erotic subcons...

What a lucky gal I am to have such a smart husband. A self-proclaimed expert on everything, Andy is your go-to-guy for unsolicited advice on any topic. As a nervous, first-time pregnant woman, my mind was always put at ease by Andy's knowledge of the expecting body. From recommending a scheduled c-section to arguing the money saving benefits of hand pumping, Andy was a constant voice over my shoulder, assisting me in my pre-parenthood decisions. In preparation for Caroline's arrival, I began stocking up on diapers. How silly of me, Andy cautioned, a baby just needs one diaper a day! Good thing during those nights of colic and breastfeeding, Andy had the good sense to open one eye, and suggest I feed the baby (after I'd already been awake for 30 minutes feeding and diapering.) If at any time I question a decision or even if I think I'm making the right decision, Andy is there by my side to remind me that I'm wrong or doing the wrong thing and quickly sets me st...

At 9:30 a.m. this morning I was sitting on a hill in a lean-to, rain pouring down around me, yellow leaves scattering in the cold wind. I wasn't alone. My companion is the director of a local wilderness education center and I was speaking with him about, what else, internships. What I love about my job is that I learn all about what other people do for work and how they got there. So there I am, little miss hate to camp, hanging out with Rambo/The Fugitive having an existential conversation about how people are killing themselves and the planet. By the time I left I was ready to sell my house and move the three of us to a closet-sized cabin in the woods. I'm just like most Americans, especially of my generation, killing my grandchildren to give the most to my child. It's hard not to think about our impact on the environment. It's easier not to really care. Invention often brings us one step forward and two steps back. I'm not going to lie, I'm a big fan ...

I have to tell you about the other man in my life. It's ok, Andy knows all about him. He knows all about how he excites me, thrills me and sometimes even scares me. He knows, too, how this man always leaves me coming back for more. His name is Dexter. He's a forensic blood expert by day and a serial killer by nature. He's chopped up hundreds of bad men and women in the Miami area. And I love him. I also love Netflix. Just when you are sick of watching ANTM cycle 345, a happy DVD arrives in the mail, it's red envelope boldly pushing its way through the boring and disappointing pile of bills. Their system has solved a great deal of problems in our house because they offer queues for two users. Andy can get Rambo and 28 Days Later and let them sit for weeks before watching and I can get all my faves, from 27 Dresses to The Other Boleyn Girl, without having to take turns with Andy. In addition to movies, you can rent TV series. This is a wonderful, wonderful ...

Have you read Marley & Me? I've been thinking about that book a lot today. It's a classic story of a man and his dog. I love Marley because he is a less than perfect dog and his owner has a love/hate relationship that over time just becomes love. Our pets are our family for better or worse. Dingo is our dog. Like most of our pets, we inherited her. She was born somewhere in New Mexico and roamed the land as a pup before being adopted by my brother-in-law. When he moved to Boston, she moved in with us. I was incredibly reluctant to take her. Alright, I was enraged. The in-laws all tricked me into taking her by telling me they were going to put her down if we didn't let her live with us. It turns out she had a willing foster parent in New Mexico but they shipped her to us anyway. I'll never forget our first day with her. I wanted to hate her just because she was a burden I did not want. That first night, I arrived home from work and it was raining. She was in the dog ...