I’m certainly not Martha Stewart.  It’s been said that even Martha Stewart is not really Martha Stewart.  Anyway, as the holidays roll around I think often about an episode of the now-archived “Oprah” I recall watching several years ago.  Martha Stewart was a guest, as was a girl about the age of six and if I remember correctly, this youngster was Oprah’s godchild.  There was a segment of the show devoted to her making a craft, cookie or other “child-friendly” project with Ms. Martha. Who this child was, and what the craft/cookie event taking place entailed doesn’t really matter.  What…

I could start this post out with a canned statement such as “The Holidays are about….”  But that just doesn’t feel right.  I am having trouble getting this one going and think that ‘s a sign I just need to get to the point.  So, here it goes. People face illness, loss and other personal tragedies and struggles all year around.  Our family knows some of these people personally and lately, it seems that number is growing. Women are labelled with having the “biological clock” but really, everyone does.  Men, children and postmenopausal women included.  Our bodies don’t check the…

…this might be it: Be the type of parent you hope your child will someday be.

It’s a tiny spit of a town along Colorado’s Highway 145, a rare civilized stop between Telluride and Cortez.  In hard mileage the distance is modest, but Rico is a far cry from the beautiful-people atmosphere of the former and the over-franchised latter.  There isn’t much there…a mercantile, a bar, and a couple shops selling a few things tourists like to buy.  The structures are reminiscent of an old mining town, like Telluride, but with only spare modifications and upkeep.  No meticulously kept lawns.  No establishments selling upscale clothing or artisan olive oils.  My family and I passed through Rico…

If you remember the movie “Mr. Mom” from the early 1980’s where the unemployed Michael Keaton character stays home with his kids while his wife (played by Teri Garr) goes back to work, what scenes come to mind?  For me, there are three:  TOW (sorry, I am a huge Friends fan) “Mr. Mom” feeds the baby chili and TOW he dons the equivalent of a hazmat suit to change the same baby’s diaper (serves him right having to deal with baby-chili indigestion!).  And the third?  The one where Teri Garr is having a meal with her boss, and she starts cutting…

A colorful colleague in my previous profession used to say, “(If-this-doesn’t-happen) I’ll eat my hat!”  Which she never did, probably because she never wore a hat but also because she was rarely incorrect!  And when I recently purchased a military-style chapeau made from organic cotton, the clerk told my daughter, “The hat’s organic so your mom could eat it!” I wear the hat often and of course think of the eat-my-hat saying just as frequently, and that leads me to breastfeeding.  Obviously.  Or maybe not.  Bear with me… As a physician assistant expectant mothers asked me many questions regarding the…

I was just waiting for it to happen.  It was only a matter of time.  My son, like most kids his age, was becoming increasingly adept in a “techie” sort of way.  For example, I overheard him one day talking on the phone to his grandparents. I figured he had snagged my cell phone, yet AGAIN, despite my clear “hands off” policy after he managed to enter my passcode enough times to lock me out of the lifeline that is my smart phone.  But when I approached him, he had his Ipod and had downloaded the Textfree service and was…

[Warning:  Before reading this post, please be advised the content below has a certain gross-out factor.  It should probably not be read by anyone who has not cared for small children AND does not find it good playground conversation to discuss the stomach flu.] Over the summer, everyone in our household contracted an intestinal parasite (except my daughter, who in her whole seven years, has barfed exactly two times and must be hanging onto those wonderful colostrum antibodies like a fly to flypaper).  No worries, you can’t get it through cyberspace but you can get it from swimming in a public, chlorinated pool.  And since…

I love coincidences.  And the other day I was wondering what my next blog post should be and it landed right in my lap. I’m still practicing at using Art Linkletter’s wise words from my previous post (see “Thank You, Mr. L”).  I’m finding it’s tough to stick to my new mantra  A)  with the smallish situations (child all squinty in a school picture), and B) when in the throes of a revved up fight-or-flight occasion (like when my son suffered a concussion and I was 30 minutes away).  A recent conundrum lands somewhere in the middle but I thought how funny it…

“Things turn out best for those who make the best of the way things turn out.” ~Art Linkletter My new favorite quote.  It’s more global than that of parenting wisdom but doesn’t it work?  Some days just go wacky where kids are involved and “just going with it” can keep our hair from going gray (or at least not gray as fast….).  So when one of your children vomits on the freshly-shampooed carpet the morning of your first mani-pedi in years, remember Mr. Linkletter’s wisdom.  It has become my mantra, pretty much every day!