Saturday night, like many here in town, we battened down the hatches. We bought the water and batteries, found the flashlights and radio, stocked up on non-perishable foods, and cleared the yard of potential airborne detritus in anticipation of Hurricane Irene’s blustery blow-by. Little did we know that the real storm about to come through would be inside the house on this, the weekend before school starts. This past weekend, Hurricane Lorette came to town. She started developing significant pressure and gust about two weeks ago after so many weeks of summer vacation in small spaces. Vacation…

It was an unusual way to spend an evening. Three adults and one child, sitting in a parked car at the Glavin fields, the fading daylight coloring the horizon, the hoots and calls of children in the far distance. My husband, sitting in the driver’s seat, is peering through a small pair of binoculars towards the fields. “Do you see her?” “Yes. No. Yes, I can see her.” “How is she doing?” “She looks good.” “And mine?” says a voice from the backseat. “Oh yeah, I see her.  Doing well, looks good.” We are trying to identify our respective 8-year-olds, two in a mass of other second and third grade …

I believe princesses are born, not made. How else to explain my two children, born from the same set of parents, brought up in the same house under the same circumstances, but who exhibit very different styles? My eldest is just as likely to go frog-catching as she is to play with her American Girl doll. She acted like a dog, barking and scampering around on all fours, for about three years—one of her longer childhood “phases.” As a preschooler, she liked dinosaurus, denim, and superheroes. The youngest came into this world like a little lady with an inherent love of all things that glitter …

The necessity of having a Plan B became apparent to me a few weeks ago, during February vacation, when I spontaneously took the kids to a trampoline park in Boston. Day trips with children are rarely successful spontaneously, and this was no exception.  We drove an hour to get there, yet arrived too early, the park doesn’t open until noon, we were told by the adolescent-looking staff member in a navy blue uniform.  I can be flexible, just you watch. We found a nearby eatery and had an early lunch or late breakfast, depending on the order. Since my kiddos have visited this Mc-establishment …

Davis Guggenheim, the award-winning documentary movie maker, said that his biggest challenge in making “Waiting For Superman,” the celebrated documentary on urban education and charter schools, was getting people to watch a movie with complicated and highly emotional content about other people’s children. “Other people’s children,” Guggenheim writes, “that phrase kept echoing in my head like a challenge. How do I get people to care as much about other people’s children as they do their own?” Recently, as I watched from the sidelines of soccer games and lacrosse games, from small chairs in …

“You are a blue-faced monkey Mom.” She means it as a compliment. Eldest Daughter and I are cuddling, all 60 pounds of her folded on my lap. I twirl her brown strands of hair around my fingers and rest my head on her shoulder. She is referring to the blue-faced Sichuan golden monkey, as I know after many nights of reading the “Usborne World of Animals” book together. According to the book, the blue-faced Sichuan golden monkey is quite affectionate and mothers spend “hours” hugging their children. Late to the “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother” party, I finally read that cleverly-marketed book by…

I fear Spring-induced amnesia. I fear that as the days warm and lengthen, the sweet smells of mud and earth will somehow cloud up my brain and as the grey towers of snow melt away, so too will my memory of all that I have learned this winter. I have crafted a Now-I-Know list for next winter, as a memory aid. 1. The other Mom from Around Town and I agree that we need to remember the time to buy a snow rake is in the summer. Snow rakes go like hot cakes in the winter. Alternatively, the time to buy an air conditioner is not during the summer and the time to buy a sump pump is when you don’t …

I thought we were enjoying a quiet ride to swim lessons at the YMCA, listening to the radio, just the two of us.  My 5 year-old, sitting in the back seat on this sunny, winter afternoon, the inside of the car warming despite the icy air outside, says, “Mom, what is that—'sex?'” Oh, man. “What?”  I ask. Perhaps I misheard her. “What is that...'sex?'” she asks again, crystal clear in her pronunciation. Oy. Apparently I did not mishear. I turn down the radio. “Where did you hear it?” “In the song.” I begin earnestly listening to the background music that I wasn’t paying much attention to just a …

When the automated phone call and E-mail came at 5:30 a.m., alerting me to yet another snow day, I was tempted to E-mail back, “Noooooooooooooooo….!” But I question whether the humor will translate. Does Mother Nature even have a gmail account? Given: we have gotten walloped with snow this winter-it’s been a record breaker. Given: complaining about the weather is boring and futile. Snow is like aging in that you can try to deny it’s inevitability, you can rail, but eventually it will march wherever it wants to, possibly all over you. Your hands are not on this steering wheel. As a life-long …

By 10 a.m., we have run out of all arts and crafts supplies. I have heard the “Mamma Mia” soundtrack at least 20 times. It’s the second snow day in a week, in addition to the long weekend. Both kids are home from school, and Daddy is away. That guy misses all the fun. As the endless weather models flash from the television, I realize it is time for me to re-engage with my nemesis of the season—our behemoth snowblower. I like to think that I provide gut-busting entertainment for my neighbors when I use the  snowblower. I imagine I am the neighborhood Lucille Ball, pushing, pulling, slipping …

Recently, I inadvertently won a door prize and a pizza lunch, twice in one day.  Thinking lady luck was smiling in my direction, I immediately sent in our full-day kindergarten lottery ticket. Here in Shrewsbury, a spot in full-day kindergarten is highly coveted, like Willy Wonka's Golden Ticket. The lucky names get plucked from the pool of eligible students during the televised lottery. The rest get a space in the half-day classrooms, attending either mornings or afternoons for the school year.    Today is lottery day. I exchange texts and email messages of “good luck!” with other parents in…

My friends and family have been put on notice that they can expect our seasonal greeting card in March. As usual, I am behind in holiday preparations and now realize I cannot possibly get our card out in time for Christmas.  New Year's isn't looking likely either.  March is a boring month and long. December has sparkle to spare. I figure I'll spread that excess cheer around, while also giving myself an extension. Nobody seems surprised by my declaration of card tardiness. It seems I typically admit defeat and succumb to my grinchly nature around this time of year.  It's my own personal …

Shrewsbury's cup runneth over with playgrounds. Since we live near Shrewsbury's Central Park, aka Dean Park, we never had much of a reason to venture beyond it. However, a trip to Shrewsbury's Park and Recreation website showed how much more Shrewsbury has to offer, with 10 playgrounds within our borders. With an itinerary including only non-school playgrounds, a GPS and some cooperative helpers, ages 5 to 10, we set off to experience each playground heretofore never-been-seen by us. We christened this The New-To-Us Playground Crawl. Materials Required: band aids, snacks, sunscreen, a sense …

It's been almost two years since I threw out my back, effectively putting my running shoes on ice. But I am now healed and I needed to get a race under my newly rehabilitated belt. To get back in the saddle, I looked for a course in my comfort zone. I found such a race, a modest 3-mile run that goes through my neighborhood on a Sunday.  This is how I found myself at Independence Hall on South Street, for the 6th Annual Veteran's Day race hosted by Veteran's Inc., a national organization that supports veterans and their families. I was one of more than 300 runners taking part in the race this …