My Husband Has a Crush on a Bald Frenchman

I’m not a jealous person by nature but sometimes at night when it’s time to go to bed, instead of following me into the boudoir, my husband, hypnotized by the glow of his laptop will murmur, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

And then I start to seethe.

He’s not coming to snuggle with me under the sheets because he’d rather watch videos on Youtube. Specifically, clips of French Algerian soccer star Zinedane Zidane. Most likely, my husband is watching the “best of” video of “Zizou” (as the superstar is known to his fans), a montage of the best career shots edited down to seven minutes against the backdrop of Coldplay’s “I Will Fix You.”

My husband loves watching Zidane zigzag across the field past other world-class soccer players. If I’m in the room, I get dragged to the computer.
Continue… »

“West Side Story” still rings true in modern life and love

It’s family time again. We have planned a day to see “West Side Story.” We make a quick stop first at the Carl’s Junior on Market Street where signs of poverty are harsh reminders of how far society needs to come to encompass those who struggle to survive.

My family: David, Alicia, Dante and I arrive at the Orpheum Theater for a time capsule-like experience set in the fifties, a time we baby boomers were born into. The scenes in “West Side Story” that depict the cultural divide between the Puerto Ricans and Irish could easily mirror the hot topic of today, illegal immigration.

A part of me feels embarrassed by this underhanded way of sharing the negative stereotypes within a love story. Yet, as a historical musical, I feel the actors bring to life so much more than a lecture. Continue… »

Wild Man

Courtesy,www.castlegar.ca

My husband David loves fishing. I married a man whose Dad would drop him off with his rod, reel, and bait at a fishing spot in Greenbrae and not come back to get him for a few hours. David spends a good part of our summers plotting his next fishing trip. He will search for the perfect fly, make dates with experienced guides, e-mail back and forth to his fishing buddy, and more, just to be able to cast his line in clean waters and catch and release rainbow trout.

Upon his return, I take in his fishing stories with all the interest I can muster as I love fish, but that is when I am eating them. I call him a “Wild Man” as he recounts hiking through treacherous brambles where fresh mountain lion droppings are evident on boulders nearby. 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… »

A Mother’s Friendship Will Last Forever

My Husband, the Father I Never Had

I watched my husband, Keith, brush the hair away from my five-year-old daughter’s forehead last night as he read her Pirate ABCs. His voice growled as he did his best Johnny Depp impression. Miranda nestled next to his chest, looked up at him, smiled and snuggled closer.

I walked out of the room, tears welling in my eyes. My dad never read me a bedtime story. Not once. That wasn’t our bedtime ritual. Even though I was only six, I remember it clearly.

You see, Lyle Dennison didn’t read to his kids. He he was too busy being an Oakland cop. And when the job had been too much for him, he was busy hoisting a few Manhattans at the neighborhood tavern.

Continue… »

Mommy Has Free Time Alone!!!!!!!!!

My husband has taken the kids camping and left me to have a precious twenty-four hours to myself.

It is a gift.

I walked them to the SUV, gave kisses and hugs and waved as the car descended down the hill. Then I opened the gate, skipped down to the house and ran inside.

Continue… »

Mother Murders Her Annoying Cat

Binkley was a mean cat, the kind who lives forever out of spite.

When my husband mentioned in passing, “Binkley’s limping a little,” I did not expect a cat that dragged her leg bone behind her like a scavenged drumstick.

When the vet’s x-rays revealed a shattered leg in the hardest place to fix, I learned about feline osteoporosis. Binkley’s usual hop down from the bathroom counter would cost at least two thousands dollars, with no guarantees, not counting follow-up visits and medication.

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… »

Christmas Shopping Traditions: The Wife’s & The Husband’s

My Christmas shopping exploded when I met my husband.  I’m the third of eight children and our family gift traditions were simple.

My husband had only his father, his brother and his brother’s girlfriend.  But their tradition was (and remains) to buy each other five or six gifts.  And then there were “gifties” for the close friends that are his extended family. 

And my husband-to-be never started shopping before December 20^th.  His routine was going to a big mall, feeling so totally overwhelmed and freaked out that he became paralyzed and went home nearly empty handed.  The real shopping happened between noon and six on Christmas Eve.  I played along the first year and hated it, but somehow felt it was my role to support his holiday routine.  He loved having me with him.  

Continue… »