A Thing of Beauty

Slipping into my warm morning bed, Aubrey wraps herself in the afghan her great-grandmother made and sucks her thumb.

Once settled, she studies my face.

After awhile, she reaches for the bridge of my nose and points: “You have a dot here; it’s brown.” Moving her finger lower, next to my nose, she says, “And a dot here above your lips; that one’s almost the same color as your skin.”

Continue… »

Mom is a Coffee Junkie, Her Son Is Addicted to Dinosaurs

Dane, my 5-year-old, is sitting on the couch watching Prehistoric Planet, his favorite DVD about dinosaurs.

Leiopleurodon—an ancient whale-like sea creature whose jagged-tooth jaws have been likened to a giant car-crusher—has eaten, well, a dolphin thing.

Dane’s cozy under his afghan, but his hands are cold. He woke up too early so I sit and watch the video with him. I hold a homemade hot latte in my hands. It feels so good I think Dane will like holding it too.

Continue… »

A Special Bicycle

Someone stole my boy’s bike.

Fortunately, a friend has loaned us one until we buy another, but that bike! I bought it when Dane was 2 – the future rider he’d become, just a pedaling speck in my mind.

That bike inspired a 5-year-old’s self-reliance that would’ve made Emerson proud.

All summer long, we rode, first in circles around the playground; then, into Sausalito or along the Bay Trail between Marin City and Mill Valley.

Continue… »

Sing It, Pre-School Sister

My daughter has started singing with vibrato. She’s four. So, it’s not a quick and snappy “Mary had a little lamb,” it’s slow and pensive: “Ma-a-ary ha-a-a-ad uh-uh-uh li-i-i-it-uh-uh-uhl la-a-a-amb”

It’s pre-schooler sings the blues.

I’m not sure where she picked this up, but I will say it seemed to start after a two-week visit from her Grammy, who, if I may be so bold, utilizes a wee bit of the vibrato herself.

Continue… »

Daddy’s Home And Mommy Needs a Break

I’m a mom who’s ready for school to start up again. Not elementary school — dental school. My husband’s on break for a week before he starts quarter number five of his twelve-quarter program.

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that he gets to hang up his shirt and tie and spend some time with us — especially since during the school year I’m relentlessly on duty at home while he’s relentlessly on duty at school or studying.

During this break, we’ve been able to do some meaningful activities together; camping at the ocean, riding bikes along the bay, cutting out paper coconut trees in our son’s kindergarten class, drinking homemade lattes on the sunny porch.

Continue… »

Oh, Shit

My son, Dane, came home from kindergarten and told me his classmate Nadia got in trouble at school. She’d said the “S-H-” word.

Nadia’s from Romania and she’s a little older than her classmates. She’s also a bit rough-and-tumble, but harmless enough. I asked him what kind of trouble she got in and he said she had to run a lap.

Aubrey, my younger child, yelled from the other room, “What’s the S-H- word?”

Continue… »

Moustache Mamas

The concept: Women shouldn’t be ashamed of shaving – their upper lips.

I’m sure this has been conceived before, by some hairy Betty, in some by-gone era that had a few faithful Sallys offering timid support, but it looks like Betty tucked that Bic away when the rest of her friends quit inviting her to bowling night.

But this hairy Betty wants to resurrect the movement. Here’s what I’d really love doing – no, let me be more honest than that: here’s what I really love doing:

Shaving my moustache.

Continue… »

Children Sleep Under the Cover of Night

It’s seven-fifteen and pitch black outside. We’ve had a long, busy day and we’re ready for the kids to go to bed.

“Time for bed,” my husband says. “It’s late.”

It’s actually still an hour before their usual bedtime, but our kids can’t tell time yet – at least not on our dining room clock with the Roman numerals, and they don’t think to look at the other clocks – so they don’t catch us in the lie.

Continue… »

Fear for the Unknown

A middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper bobbed hair and a nylon jacket staggered to my apartment playground clutching her chest.

I ran across the lot to her, thinking she was having a heart attack. But in limited English and desperate body language, she conveyed she’d been mugged: her purse, grocery bags, and head scarf had just been stolen from her.

With my heart racing, I looked back at my girlfriends to make sure they were watching my children, and used my cell phone to call 911.

Continue… »

Loss Brings Grief, Empathy and Perspective

I’ve spent the morning crying for a high school friend.

She was a junior when I was a sophomore, and we were in a couple of clubs together. Really down-to-earth, gorgeous, sweet girl. I haven’t seen her since she graduated.

Today on Reunion.com, I read a message she posted last May about her brother. Her brother was a year ahead of her. He was an adorable jock kind of guy and they were good friends throughout school.

Her post said that her brother had lost a three and a half year battle with brain cancer. He left behind his loving wife of fourteen years and their two daughters. And, I noticed in the message, as if it couldn’t get any worse, one of his surviving daughters has leukemia.

Continue… »