Early July.  The kids and I arrived in New York City a couple of hours behind schedule due to weather, overheated and overtired and overexcited to be on such an adventure, together, for the first time. Our first stop was the Upper East Side apartment of our dear college friends; the following afternoon we would take a bus to their house in Bridgehampton.  Only the husband, the onetime roommate of my husband (oh, the stories we share), was in the city, his wife and three children having already decamped to the beach. As our tired host graciously served up pizza at 10pm and poured me a glass ... [READ MORE]

In the Air Over There

Well good gracious.  It has been a full six weeks or so since I last posted, which means it must be summer vacation.  Which is, apparently, the most hectic time of the year.  You heard me: more hectic than back-to-school, more hectic than Christmas.  Heck.  Tick. Mercifully, this hectic-ness is punctuated by sublime spurts of rest during which it seems wrong to fire up the old laptop and blog, when one could be doing nothing, for heaven's sake. So here we are.  Mid-to-late July.  How did we get here?  By way of five summer camps and Bridgehampton, for starters.  All while my office is ... [READ MORE]

On Bikes and Battles, and the Picking Thereof

"It's a good thing I feel like I've been slapped with the happy stick!" I laugh, staring at the stopped Bay Bridge traffic in front of us.  "Here!" I toss my phone at my husband, who, left alone in the front of the car, is quietly obsessing over the cause of the standstill.  "Take our picture!" My knees are the most prominent feature in the photo, wedged, as I am, in the back seat of our Subaru Impresa (a "city alternative" to a station wagon), between Babygirl's car seat and LittleMan's booster.  Little Man's new bike is riding shotgun.  This is our very first family camping trip, and ... [READ MORE]


On the last day of May, the Robot had to go. If you have been keeping up with my fashion posts at The Eagle's Nest you know about The Robot, which required the donation of a shoebox to the art class.  As it turned out, LittleMan, upon learning his options, actually chose to use a boot box -- and if you know about women's shoes, or shoe storage in general, you will understand that the two are not the same.  A boot box is considerably larger, and then rendered even more so with the addition of plastic-cup feet, a plastic-hanger antenna, some bottle-pump arms, and protruding eyes made of ... [READ MORE]

Hot Town, Summer in the City

Life is one big learning process, and one thing I am learning this month is that random school holidays are often the enemy of the working parent.  It's funny, actually, because as an educator myself I have always loved school holidays and considered them a terrific perk of the profession.  But now that I have a son in "real school" I am realizing that: 1) there are an inordinate number of school holidays; 2) all schools have different holiday calendars; and, of course, 3) the rest of the world keeps on turnin' -- meaning deadlines still need to be met, phone calls answered, dollars raised, ... [READ MORE]

And So It Begins, Part 2 (How It Really Began)

Babyman started his new Pre-K the first Monday after our two-week family vacation in Tahoe. Babyman is not fond of change or shake-ups to his routine.  He is, however, tremendously fond of family vacations in Tahoe.  It follows that shaking up his routine just as our Tahoe vacation came to an end was something less than popular. We dedicated the ride home to hyper-enthusiastic Pre-K prep as only nervous parents can.  We stopped along the way to get a back-to-school outfit and, most importantly, a snazzy Cars 2 lunchbox.  The lunchbox, its utter coolness, its "I can't wait to show the ... [READ MORE]

Money Well Spent

We are spending about three or four hours a day at the pool since coming to Tahoe, usually a morning session and an afternoon swim.  Babyman loves the pool here; for the first time in his life, he can (barely) touch the bottom of the shallow end, and he spends a great deal of time on his tiptoes gasping for air. My husband and I, of course, would love to see some real swimming.  For the past year or so, Babyman has been taking private swim lessons, and the kid's got skills.  Seriously.  But, as with all things Babyman, they depend massively on his mood and inclination to oblige.  So we wade ... [READ MORE]