A Mom's Life

On a June return flight from California, I sat next to a woman on the connection from Chicago to Albany. Without sharing our names, we began chatting about the usual flight topics like how cold it was on the plane, racing to catch the flight after delays, and the dreaded drive home from Albany at 11 at night. After telling her my drive was an hour and 15 minutes from Albany, she asked exactly where I called home. When I told her Cooperstown, I should have known what she might ask. "Oh! Cooperstown! Do you know Andrew Marietta?" I couldn't help but roll my eyes when replying, "Yes! Yes, I know him!" She smiled, cautiously, and I continued, "He's my husband." I went on to tell her I can't help but react in this way because it happens so often. She continued to share with me, as most people do, that she's from our area, and has worked with Andy before. She told me how helpful Andy is and how friendly and informative she finds him. These ar...

This week, to wish her five-year old daughter happy birthday, Victoria Beckham kissed her on the lips. Mommy shamers united in hatred and blasted Posh Spice, calling her action disgusting and her a pedophile. In the photo, posted on her Instagram account, Victoria and Harper are in a pool (an AMAZING infinity pool with an ocean view BTW) and Victoria has her head slightly tilted while kissing her pig-tailed kid smack on the lips. With a few simple clicks you can be privy to the negative comments questioning the appropriateness of the kiss. You can also read tons and tons of positive comments in support of the kiss and see photo after photo of Mommy and Me smooches. There are many articles, and blogs, online discussing whether parents and children should kiss on the lips and as you can imagine, there are just as many supporters as there are those in opposition. The web has drawn upon experts, like a British etiquette expert who said it's not proper etiquette to kiss your child o...

A tiny thought has been knocking at my mind's door. It's been tap, tap, tapping; some days very loudly, so much so that it distracts me from anything else. Other days, it is subtle and soft, rhythmic, like my pulse; in sync with the rise and fall of my chest. The tiny thought blew in from a distant place, a far away land. I do not know exactly when it arrived, but I surmise it came in on the fierce gales of the mid-life late winter storm, which took place just as the ice began to recede on the lake, reminding us that winter had not yet let us go. Just as I realized that this stage of my life was not yet ready to let me go. I'd thought I was impervious to the tiny thought. The thought, though small in one's mind, proves powerful for many women. I've heard stories of the tiny thought and have been witness to the tiny thought's metamorphosis. It starts as a seed and grows to a longing, a home sickness, an unspoken knowing. You will know, friends say. You will k...