Friday, February 22, 2013
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Why Valentine's Day Isn't Just For Lovers
I always get kind of miffed at Valentine's Day because of the detractors, the #FOREVERALONE people who can't seem to see that love isn't just romantic. Love is familial, and platonic and everything in degrees from that gentle feeling of caring for someone to full blown love romance. Valentine's Day can be what you make it.
Why would you ever choose to MAKE a day something negative?
At our house, it's a day to remember to celebrate how much we love each other. We give candy and small snuggly gifts (and sometimes Mommy gets a pretty piece of jewelry but sometimes not) and we take a day just to say, we are a family and we love each other.
It's a reminder to celebrate the fact that you do in fact have people in your life that you love.
After we open our presents, and maybe have a piece of chocolate or two or four or six, we always like to head out for a dinner to celebrate who we are as a family. There's really only ever one place that will do.
Where else can we play skeeball and eat pizza and shoot zombies and dance with Chucki E ? Really, this is the spot.
So next year, when it's Valentine's day, if you're lamenting that you don't have that perfect romantic evening, remember this. Love is what you make it. It might be an evening of video games at Chuck E Cheese. Or a night out with your other single friends. Or bowling. Or trying a new tapas restaurant. Valentine's Day can be anything you want it to be.
I wouldn't have mine any other way. Because, in the end...love the you take is equal to the love you make.
John and Paul were always right about that you know.
Tweet
Why would you ever choose to MAKE a day something negative?
At our house, it's a day to remember to celebrate how much we love each other. We give candy and small snuggly gifts (and sometimes Mommy gets a pretty piece of jewelry but sometimes not) and we take a day just to say, we are a family and we love each other.
It's a reminder to celebrate the fact that you do in fact have people in your life that you love.
After we open our presents, and maybe have a piece of chocolate or two or four or six, we always like to head out for a dinner to celebrate who we are as a family. There's really only ever one place that will do.
Where else can we play skeeball and eat pizza and shoot zombies and dance with Chucki E ? Really, this is the spot.
So next year, when it's Valentine's day, if you're lamenting that you don't have that perfect romantic evening, remember this. Love is what you make it. It might be an evening of video games at Chuck E Cheese. Or a night out with your other single friends. Or bowling. Or trying a new tapas restaurant. Valentine's Day can be anything you want it to be.
I wouldn't have mine any other way. Because, in the end...love the you take is equal to the love you make.
John and Paul were always right about that you know.
Tweet
Labels:
Chuck E Cheese,
Mommyhood,
Parenthood,
Valentine's Day
Why Valentine's Day Isn't Just For Lovers
I always get kind of miffed at Valentine's Day because of the detractors, the #FOREVERALONE people who can't seem to see that love isn't just romantic. Love is familial, and platonic and everything in degrees from that gentle feeling of caring for someone to full blown love romance. Valentine's Day can be what you make it.
Why would you ever choose to MAKE a day something negative?
At our house, it's a day to remember to celebrate how much we love each other. We give candy and small snuggly gifts (and sometimes Mommy gets a pretty piece of jewelry but sometimes not) and we take a day just to say, we are a family and we love each other.
It's a reminder to celebrate the fact that you do in fact have people in your life that you love.
After we open our presents, and maybe have a piece of chocolate or two or four or six, we always like to head out for a dinner to celebrate who we are as a family. There's really only ever one place that will do.
Where else can we play skeeball and eat pizza and shoot zombies and dance with Chucki E ? Really, this is the spot.
So next year, when it's Valentine's day, if you're lamenting that you don't have that perfect romantic evening, remember this. Love is what you make it. It might be an evening of video games at Chuck E Cheese. Or a night out with your other single friends. Or bowling. Or trying a new tapas restaurant. Valentine's Day can be anything you want it to be.
I wouldn't have mine any other way. Because, in the end...love the you take is equal to the love you make.
John and Paul were always right about that you know.
Tweet
Why would you ever choose to MAKE a day something negative?
At our house, it's a day to remember to celebrate how much we love each other. We give candy and small snuggly gifts (and sometimes Mommy gets a pretty piece of jewelry but sometimes not) and we take a day just to say, we are a family and we love each other.
It's a reminder to celebrate the fact that you do in fact have people in your life that you love.
After we open our presents, and maybe have a piece of chocolate or two or four or six, we always like to head out for a dinner to celebrate who we are as a family. There's really only ever one place that will do.
Where else can we play skeeball and eat pizza and shoot zombies and dance with Chucki E ? Really, this is the spot.
So next year, when it's Valentine's day, if you're lamenting that you don't have that perfect romantic evening, remember this. Love is what you make it. It might be an evening of video games at Chuck E Cheese. Or a night out with your other single friends. Or bowling. Or trying a new tapas restaurant. Valentine's Day can be anything you want it to be.
I wouldn't have mine any other way. Because, in the end...love the you take is equal to the love you make.
John and Paul were always right about that you know.
Tweet
Labels:
Chuck E Cheese,
Mommyhood,
Parenthood,
Valentine's Day
Sunday, February 17, 2013
If You Let Me Play Sports...
If you let me play, if you let me play sports. I will like myself more;
I will have more self-confidence.
If you let me play sports.
If you let me play, I will be 60 percent less likely to get breast cancer;
I will suffer less depression.
If you let me play sports, I will be more likely to leave a man who beats me.
If you let me play, I will be less likely to get pregnant before I want to.
I will learn what it means to be strong,
if you let me play...*
She has said for a solid year, "I want soccer" having watched her oldest brother play. There is a place nearby that starts soccer out at 18 months so we decided at 2 years old, she was ready. The two year old class was full, so we had to "try out" for the three and four year old class. She did great.
The old Nike commercial played through my mind, as I watched my two year old run up and down the field with bigger kids, following instructions and yelling enthusiastically.
Yes, I'll let her play sports.
In fact, I'll insist.
*source - 1. Nike, Inc. television advertisement. Text as reported in Eleanor Mallet, Everywoman:
Letting Girls Have a Sporting Chance, THE PLAjo DA. ER (Cleveland), Oct. 3, 1995, at 1E.
Labels:
Mommyhood,
Nike,
soccer,
sports,
the pink one
If You Let Me Play Sports...
If you let me play, if you let me play sports.
I will like myself more;
I will have more self-confidence.
If you let me play sports.
If you let me play, I will be 60 percent less likely to get breast
cancer;
I will suffer less depression.
If you let me play sports,
I will be more likely to leave a man who beats me.
If you let me play, I will be less likely to get pregnant before I
want to.
I will learn what it means to be strong,
if you let me play...*
She has said for a solid year, "I want soccer" having watched her oldest brother play. There is a place nearby that starts soccer out at 18 months so we decided at 2 years old, she was ready. The two year old class was full, so we had to "try out" for the three and four year old class. She did great.
The old Nike commercial played through my mind, as I watched my two year old run up and down the field with bigger kids, following instructions and yelling enthusiastically.
Yes, I'll let her play sports.
In fact, I'll insist.
*source - 1. Nike, Inc. television advertisement. Text as reported in Eleanor Mallet, Everywoman:
Letting Girls Have a Sporting Chance, THE PLAjo DA. ER (Cleveland), Oct. 3, 1995, at 1E.
Labels:
Mommyhood,
Nike,
soccer,
sports,
the pink one
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
A Shower Of One's Own
Virginia Wolfe argued that to write fiction, women must have money and a room of one's own. I think that largely, we've come past the money part. Not that we're all rich, but women in the workforce are no longer a concept but a normal way of life.
I don't need a room of my own, because I like sharing my room with my husband and with a two year old about to transition to her very own big girl room. It's not a bad thing. It might not be my dream room but it's where I sleep and dream and the people I love are near.
No, what I need is a shower of my own.
Don't get me wrong I HAVE one. But unless I'm in there in the wee AM hours, it's not mine. The room is usually inhabited by at least one sprite singing, dancing and generally being loud and somewhat annoying in the mirror.
I was considering this, during my early AM shower this morning. I was letting the conditioner soak into my hair, slathering myself with some of my favorite hard milled soap ever. I was head to toe good smells and soapy slathery happiness when it occurred to me.
This is peace.
I've moved past the point where someone needs to be in the bathroom with me always when I use the toilet (well at least I get to escape at work) but showering....showering is bliss. It's hot water and steam and calm. I love showers. I feel refreshed and new and relaxed. When my kids are shouting and carrying on, it's a function of getting clean. It's not pleasant. I liken it to my 6 minute showers of high school. Just as fast as I can go and be socially acceptable.
Can I live in the shower?
Tweet
I don't need a room of my own, because I like sharing my room with my husband and with a two year old about to transition to her very own big girl room. It's not a bad thing. It might not be my dream room but it's where I sleep and dream and the people I love are near.
No, what I need is a shower of my own.
Don't get me wrong I HAVE one. But unless I'm in there in the wee AM hours, it's not mine. The room is usually inhabited by at least one sprite singing, dancing and generally being loud and somewhat annoying in the mirror.
I was considering this, during my early AM shower this morning. I was letting the conditioner soak into my hair, slathering myself with some of my favorite hard milled soap ever. I was head to toe good smells and soapy slathery happiness when it occurred to me.
This is peace.
I've moved past the point where someone needs to be in the bathroom with me always when I use the toilet (well at least I get to escape at work) but showering....showering is bliss. It's hot water and steam and calm. I love showers. I feel refreshed and new and relaxed. When my kids are shouting and carrying on, it's a function of getting clean. It's not pleasant. I liken it to my 6 minute showers of high school. Just as fast as I can go and be socially acceptable.
Can I live in the shower?
Tweet
A Shower Of One's Own
Virginia Wolfe argued that to write fiction, women must have money and a room of one's own. I think that largely, we've come past the money part. Not that we're all rich, but women in the workforce are no longer a concept but a normal way of life.
I don't need a room of my own, because I like sharing my room with my husband and with a two year old about to transition to her very own big girl room. It's not a bad thing. It might not be my dream room but it's where I sleep and dream and the people I love are near.
No, what I need is a shower of my own.
Don't get me wrong I HAVE one. But unless I'm in there in the wee AM hours, it's not mine. The room is usually inhabited by at least one sprite singing, dancing and generally being loud and somewhat annoying in the mirror.
I was considering this, during my early AM shower this morning. I was letting the conditioner soak into my hair, slathering myself with some of my favorite hard milled soap ever. I was head to toe good smells and soapy slathery happiness when it occurred to me.
This is peace.
I've moved past the point where someone needs to be in the bathroom with me always when I use the toilet (well at least I get to escape at work) but showering....showering is bliss. It's hot water and steam and calm. I love showers. I feel refreshed and new and relaxed. When my kids are shouting and carrying on, it's a function of getting clean. It's not pleasant. I liken it to my 6 minute showers of high school. Just as fast as I can go and be socially acceptable.
Can I live in the shower?
Tweet
I don't need a room of my own, because I like sharing my room with my husband and with a two year old about to transition to her very own big girl room. It's not a bad thing. It might not be my dream room but it's where I sleep and dream and the people I love are near.
No, what I need is a shower of my own.
Don't get me wrong I HAVE one. But unless I'm in there in the wee AM hours, it's not mine. The room is usually inhabited by at least one sprite singing, dancing and generally being loud and somewhat annoying in the mirror.
I was considering this, during my early AM shower this morning. I was letting the conditioner soak into my hair, slathering myself with some of my favorite hard milled soap ever. I was head to toe good smells and soapy slathery happiness when it occurred to me.
This is peace.
I've moved past the point where someone needs to be in the bathroom with me always when I use the toilet (well at least I get to escape at work) but showering....showering is bliss. It's hot water and steam and calm. I love showers. I feel refreshed and new and relaxed. When my kids are shouting and carrying on, it's a function of getting clean. It's not pleasant. I liken it to my 6 minute showers of high school. Just as fast as I can go and be socially acceptable.
Can I live in the shower?
Tweet
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
She's A Digi-Girl
I didn't know it, but the girl is probably going to be nerdier than her mother. She's definitely a mini-me in a lot of ways, but I often think I see more of HERSELF in her than anyone. Her father disagrees. He thinks she's me in miniature with all of my likes and dislikes and willingness to let you know what they are loudly.
It occurred to me last night how much like me she is, when after stories she carried the book back to my room and crawled into bed with me. "Read again for Julia," she said.
I was brushing my teeth, putting on lotion, telling her that we'd just read that story - she didn't want it again did she? And she insisted yes, she wanted it again.
I thought I was being slick, when I turned out the light and slipped into bed beside her. I said "But it's dark, Mommy can't read in the dark."
At which point she said "You need your phone, here Mommy," and reached over to my bedside table to grab my iPhone. "Make the light Mommy."
And with that, I realized, my two year old knew I had the flashlight app. It was time to read.
Yep, she's me. I like me though. That's probably a good thing.
Labels:
Mommyhood,
the pink one
She's A Digi-Girl
I didn't know it, but the girl is probably going to be nerdier than her mother. She's definitely a mini-me in a lot of ways, but I often think I see more of HERSELF in her than anyone. Her father disagrees. He thinks she's me in miniature with all of my likes and dislikes and willingness to let you know what they are loudly.
It occurred to me last night how much like me she is, when after stories she carried the book back to my room and crawled into bed with me. "Read again for Julia," she said.
I was brushing my teeth, putting on lotion, telling her that we'd just read that story - she didn't want it again did she? And she insisted yes, she wanted it again.
I thought I was being slick, when I turned out the light and slipped into bed beside her. I said "But it's dark, Mommy can't read in the dark."
At which point she said "You need your phone, here Mommy," and reached over to my bedside table to grab my iPhone. "Make the light Mommy."
And with that, I realized, my two year old knew I had the flashlight app. It was time to read.
Yep, she's me. I like me though. That's probably a good thing.
Labels:
Mommyhood,
the pink one