New Direction

I thought I'd write this for others, but maybe I should write it for myself. I want to remember these days...these wonderful days when my children and still so little. Ryah, 3 and Ida, 3 months. We spent today inside in a post hurricane Irene stooper. I cleaned a lot, played a little, cooked. It was nice. Slow. Ali was home all day with us, which was really nice. Occasionally the wind would whip outside, sending a slight breeze through our living space, cooling everything down. Ryah has such a funny way with words. Since Ali was home to watch Ryah, I said we'd have bath time together, just the two of us, like old days before Ida came to join us. Ryah loved this. She kept hugging me. She told me I was beautiful. It was so sweet. Such simple joy, just to spend time with me. Her mom. Wow.
I have this huge ugly mole at the top of my right breast. Ryah is obsessed with this mole. It was her nursing substitute when she weened. Yesterday as I was putting her to bed, she caressed my mole as she does every night and often throughout the day, but she did something different. She told my mole that it was a "cutie" and "so cute." "Awwweee, what a cute mole," she said as she beamed. Hilarious. the day before this we had been out playing all day. After spending a couple hours at the play ground with a few good friends, Ryah has a melt down. She wanted ice cream and I said she couldn't have any. The water works started in full force. It had been a long day. As we crossed over to the sidewalk from the park, Ryah saw a water pipe with WATER printed on it. Ryah says, turning off the tears in perfect time,"Look Mama, W-A-C-A_R. that spells Ice Cream and it says that little girls who are crying need ice cream so they feel better. " I didn't cave in,

The Other Side of 30

I wanted this to be the title of my blog, but it was already taken. I want to write about things that probably most often but maybe never affect those of us who are over thirty...parenting, taking care of your parents, work life balance, dying, health insurance fights, money (or lack there of) etc. etc. etc. really exciting stuff. The stuff that fills my days now that I am on the other side of 30. Funny though, as I was talking about this to our housemate, a nice young lady who is not nearly 30 (and who reminds me that some of this other side of 30 stuff strikes much younger), I said something about about my baby needing to rise up (in the fist above the head, not the Lazareth, kind of way) and set all the loser politicians straight so she could have decent health care. And then I realized I had the title for my blog. It may end up being just another mom blog, but I hope not. My aim is to encourage all of you on the other side of 30 who find yourselves up a creek with out a paddle because you have way to much on your plate to do anything but neglect your kids and drink a stiff one every night just to sleep, to stop being a baby and get our proverbial shit together and make this world a better place. Then maybe our babies won't have to rise up so much when they are our age. We will see.