For the past few weeks, Baby-Ko has woken up saying “Mommy, I’m up from my dream! Come get me!” As I pick him up out of his crib (yes, he’s turning 3. No, he’s not in a big boy bed yet), I do my best to cheerily ask him about said dream.
Me: “What did you dream about?”
Baby-Ko: “The jungle!”
Me: “The jungle?!”
Baby-Ko: “Yaaaaaaaaaah, the jungle. And, and, and, the ocean!”
Now before you marvel at how amazingly imaginative my young boy is, I must confess: He did not come to these brilliant visions and landscapes on his own. I sort of fed them to him… At some point, during a typical nightly ...Read More
It’s hard to believe that almost three years ago to the day, I was feverishly reading all the what you need to know about your baby books in anticipation for the arrival of Prince Baby-Ko. As I made mental lists and actual lists (God, I miss having the time to be anal retentive), I’m pretty sure I declared a whole lot of sheeeyaat that I absolutely thought I would never do….
Yup. At the time, I was pretty sure that *I* would never be the one to discourage teeth brushing at bed time.
Cue 2 weeks ago…
I’m marching Baby-Ko in to his room after his third attempt ...Read More
At the age of 13, the year that When Harry Met Sally came out (and became my number one favorite movie) I fell in love with Harry Connick Jr.’s music. In fact, instead of a Sweet 16, I was to celebrate my birthday at the Hollywood Bowl with my BFF Lo seeing him in concert. Her dad was not only able to get us tickets, but also backstage passes. TO. MEET. HIM. As luck would have it though,
I came down with mono.
Bad mono.
(It was the summer after I went to Israel to learn about my religion, and the summer boys went to my boobs to learn about how much fun ...Read More
Before I had a child, I swore that I would always be honest. I’d speak the truth to him. I’d teach him things without covering up or rewriting the facts. I’d wear my heart on my sleeve and with patience and loving kindness, share the world with him…. one answer at a time.
Then he started talking.
A lot.
And because of this, and the fact that I am an advocate of encouraging childhood imagination and literacy, I have a confession that I’m not proud of:
I am so happy that Baby-Ko cannot read.
Take for example our trip to the beach a few weeks ago…. It was a lovely day… ...Read More
As you may recall from the string cheese incident that rocked the nation in late 2009, my beloved 2.5 year-old son, is quite particular about food. It has to be cut just so… Served just so…. Fed just so… Nothing can touch, nothing can be too hot, and nothing, I repeat, NOTHING, may be eaten (aka stolen) from his plate, unless he is in the sharing mood and demanding that everyone at the table takes a bite (whether they like it or not).
Baby-Ko’s appetite and palette is completely unpredictable. One day he may devour an entire plate of spaghetti and “meat-a-balls,” and another day he may completely protest it. Unfortunately, ...Read More
If the inside of a woman’s purse is the window to her soul, then I am very much screwed.
It dawned on me the other day as I reached down into my once beautiful Marc by Marc Jacobs bag, that my purse has now become a laboratory for filth… an endless abyss of coins (not the kind that help at a meter), leaky pens, tampons (that scream toxic shock), and crumbs from snacks that look like they’ve gone through the food processor…. I’m scared to reach inside. I’m scared of my own purse.
I don’t quite know how I have become LITERALLY a crazy bag lady…. But I have. Want a ...Read More
As mentioned a few weeks ago, I have officially become a single mom. This change in status not only comes with a slew of complex emotions and sadly, hairier legs, but also an onslaught of incessant mommy guilt…. which, as a working parent, who happens to work in the world of parenting, it can feel a little overwhelming. So, with a 2.5 year old little boy, my sensitivity level to what might ultimately eff him up for life (due to said divorce) is at an all time high…
That said, I think it’s gone too far and Baby-Ko knows it. The kid is playing me. He hears the guilt ...Read More
Ten years ago, date night meant dinner at the hottest spot, dancing, drinks and subsequently a gnarly hangover the next morning (or afternoon, really).
Alas, life is a little different now and my date nights have turned in to two hour increments in the middle of the afternoon (while said child responsible for perma-stubble on my legs spends time with his grandparents). I love my new life… I do. Though, like Steve Carrell and Tina Fey’s character in “Date Night,” a little adventure is craved every now and again… as long as I can get some sleep before Baby-Ko wakes up at the crack of dawn and wants to watch ...Read More
I’m Jewish. My mother is Jewish. My father is Jewish. My ancestors are Jewish. As a child I spent summers at (Jewish) summer camp, attended religious school, and was even bat mitzvah’d. I feel Jewish. Think Jewish. And catch me on a humid, not so good hair day, alas, I look Jewish.
All of that Judaism, for me, has meant one thing (okay, three): Food, jokes, and tradition. Let me break this down as to what this means….
Food. This one has nothing to actually do with the type of cuisine Jews eat, because frankly, if you judged my Judaism by the “Jewish things” I eat, I would not ...Read More
A few weeks back, the Executive Producer for Momversation (the sister site to Parents Ask) was teasing me about this protein only diet that I’ve been doing… (Yes, I have been that annoying person in the office responsible for the wafting smell of microwaved turkey bacon and Jarlsberg Lite every morning). So, what was my reason for doing the kind of diet that I typically detest?
“I want to get rid of baby weight.”
He cocked his head. “Um… How old is Baby-Ko again?”
Busted. My kid is starting preschool in the fall. Hello….
Right then and there it occurred to me that I have officially reached my cut off for ...Read More