A Mom's Life

The next few months are stressful for me. It starts tomorrow. American holidays are the epitome of conspicuous consumption. Tomorrow night, my little elves will dress up like Bat Girl and Spider Girl and tromp around town, with pillow cases cluthched in their hands,collecting insane amounts of candy. They will fall asleep in the car ride home, their mouths smeared with chocolate. They will eat candy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for several days. I will stress out about hyperactivity and cavities until I stress-eat a significant pile of chocolate from their stashes. Then it will be all gone and we will forget about candy consumption for another year. Simple solution: I ate my problem. Just a few, short months later, conspicuous consumption rears its ugly head again. As the Christmas holiday nears I will perform my own annual ritual; a sign of the season. I call it the toy cleanse. I perform this ritual at least twice a year, usually before the girls' birthdays and before Chri...

Char is in a phase. It's been a long phase. It started when she was born.In her honor, I drafted up a few little poems. ONE My little Charlotte, with a twinkle in your eyes, and horns on your head. TWO Are you three years old? Where did you learn all those words? No four letters, please! THREE You are the second, Birth order rules apply, here. Wild child, yes! FOUR Keep me on my toes, Wish I had extra eye balls. Always in trouble. FIVE Look away one sec, And you appear with a knife and your sweet smile. SIX Pull on the dog's tail. "He likes it, Mom," you tell me. A dog's best friend. Not. SEVEN The little sister, Are you a friend or a foe? Little protector. EIGHT Up at 5 a.m. You ask, What should we do now? Go the F*7^k to sleep! NINE,p> Char, you make me laugh. Charlotte, you make me cry, too. Full of pride, and tears. TEN Kids don't challenge you. Kids are so easy to raise, Said no one, ever. LAST Who...

"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away."-Henry Davidson Thoreau Nonconformists have long celebrated these words from Henry Davidson Thoreau. Weirdos around the world applaud the notion that is it a-ok not be just like everybody else, especially if you just can't be like everybody else. Thank goodness for that. When I first read these words in high school I too, applauded. At 15, I considered myself a true nonconformist. I listened to Smashing Pumpkins and Pearl Jam. I wrote introspective poetry on the walls of my bedroom. I dyed my hair purple. I shopped at second hand stores. I was so different, so, so different from everyone else. It was hard. Like Thoreau, I felt like I should go live in the woods, away from others, to better understand nature and to reflect on society. Instead I chose to watch Singles and wear combat boots and develop...