Columns

PGSD

My kids have a bad case of PGSD:  Post-Grandparent Spoiled Disorder.  For those of you unfamiliar with PGSD, it is characterized by a dramatic increase in whining, pouting, and tantrums, a loss of ability to use words like “please” and “thank you” and ask nicely, and the expectation that every whim will be entertained instantly.

If your children are suffering from PGSD, you may notice that they express unusual dietary requests, like fruit snacks for breakfast or popcorn for dinner.  They may begin to whine if you don’t give them what they want within 2 nanoseconds.  PGSD can also infect a child’s toys, causing their rooms to be suddenly overwhelmed with new acquisitions, usually ones that make noises or have impractical, small parts or are completely age-inappropriate. In rare extreme cases, PGSD can involve live pets, ear piercing, or the inexplicable introduction of chewing gum to your two-year-old.  In older children, expect a considerable amount of heavy sighing.

Read More

11 Likes

One Day

Wake up. It’s seven thirty. My God. Too early. Shut eyes and concentrate on sleep, dammit.

Nine. Ok, then. Stumble down the stairs. Make a bowl of nuts and seeds. Really, this paleo thing kind of stinks. Add blueberries and one drop of vanilla. No sugar, because PALEO. But pour on some heavy cream. Oh, yeah—paleo doesn’t always suck. Make a flat white. Carry it upstairs.

Read More

2 Likes

Wear Pants While Visiting Rabbits

I’ve noticed lately that many books for children, especially those aimed at 3-6 year-olds, are a little light on creativity and a little heavy on messages. Perhaps it’s time and age, but I don’t remember the authors of yesteryear taking it upon themselves to cram as many life lessons into our bedtime reading as possible.  Sure, there were always morals and parallels that could be drawn, but as the reader we were allowed to use our imagination and sensibility to interpret as we might.

Read More

3 Likes

Get It Together

You know those mothers who always look perfect?  They fix their hair and wear make-up every day, they only wear workout clothing if they are actually working out, and in general they just seem to have it together?  Yeah.  I am not one of those mothers.  I’m the other kind.

I’m the kind of mother who wears a velour tracksuit on a good day.  For me, putting on a pair of jeans counts as “dressing up.”  In fact, I’ve been known to take off my jeans when I get home and put on a pair of sweats or yoga pants because that way, my jeans don’t get dirty and I can wear them again the next time I leave the house (and despite the fact that I probably own 10 pairs of jeans, there are maybe 2 that actually fit).  I own make up, but I don’t wear it very often, and I’ve been known to go 6 months or more without a haircut.  I usually intend to at least blow-dry my hair on days when I get a shower, but about 80% of the time, I’m at school drop-off with wet hair.

Read More

5 Likes

Who Says Oreos Aren’t for Breakfast?

We are only two days into summer, and already I can feel my standards slipping.  Bedtime has gone out the window, the Monkey has already watched two PG-13 movies that he’s NEVER been allowed to see before, and, most notably, we’ve eaten Oreos for breakfast.

Oreos.  For Breakfast.

Now, while I’m lax about a lot of things, I do try to maintain some healthy influence over my children’s eating habits.  But something about summer makes poor choices easier to justify.   I try to ease my guilty conscience with a little game I like to call “Find the Food Groups”.

Read More

3 Likes

Dinner Party

I suppose that in Paris, if you are invited to someone’s home for dinner, it is really about the wine. Or maybe in New York City, it is about the sparkling conversation, or maybe the clothes the women are wearing. I guess in most cities, it is not really about the food.

I think this is wrong. I live in Ohio. The heart of the Midwest. Although if you look at a map, Ohio really ISN’T in the middle of the west, but I digress. We have dinner parties in Dayton. There are glamorous people hosting them. Not at my house, however. Another digression. What bothers me is the disingenuousness of all this. Because in my opinion, dinner parties should be about the dinner.

Read More

5 Likes

View from the Empty Nest: Food Fatigue

I fully understand teamwork. Division of labor makes all kinds of sense. But somewhere along the line, the division of labor over here has become depressing. At least to me.

Of course, I am sure that my husband must get tired of mowing the lawn. But he only has to do it in the summer, and only once in awhile. And being outside, strolling behind the mower and stopping to talk with the neighbors doesn’t seem all that bad to me. Well, ok. Sweat. But otherwise.

Read More

1 Like

Yours, Mine and Theirs: What Autism Looks Like… Really

I read through the test results, which may as well have been written in Japanese, for all I got out of the therapy-speak and scoring, but there… under “Conclusion”… there was what I’ve known, all along.

My daughter, Curlytop, is one of many, many people in the world who reside within the Autism Spectrum.

God, I was so relieved to finally have an accurate diagnosis! I was so ready to fax off the results to the misdiagnosis-giving-ADHD-zealots, and reiterate my desire that their bunk label find a home where the sun doesn’t shine! I mean, I’m no proctologist, but I’m pretty sure I know where to put that faulty diagnosis. I was so grateful to be on the road to accessing more services, and getting more answers! I was Supermom, on a quad-shot mocha, ready to rock that shit!

Read More

1 Like

Yours, Mine and Theirs: Motherhood Ruined my Jams

My new car has satellite radio, y’all. This is a new, exciting, grown-up thing for me.

Initially, I was in love with the idea of “all 80s, all the time,” just one click away from “badass hits of the 90s,” but reviving the music of my youth isn’t the walk down memory lane I’d hoped for.

How the hell did this filth become the anthems of my youth?! Looking back on my fave songs from adolescence and teendom, I don’t know how my mother restrained herself from burning my Walkman. Is it possible becoming a mother, myself, has made me *gasp* scrutinize the lyrics of songs I once belted out, with abandon?

Read More

0 Likes

View from the Empty Nest: Just Your Average Joe

I read an article recently that made a lot of sense, and it also caused great relief. The gist of the article was that our common perception of what is “average” has been vastly inflated by the media. The result is that most of us think what is “normal” is actually far above it. Let me cite an example: Granite countertops. Whenever I watch HGTV, all the young couples looking for their first home absolutely insist on granite. I mean, they actually say things like, “Granite countertops are a must. If the house doesn’t have them, we are afraid that’s a dealbreaker.”

Read More

0 Likes
1 2 3 32  Scroll to top