When I was expecting my son, my husband and I decided that we would not find out if we were having a boy or girl. We had undergone fertility treatments and there was not much of a surprise about the pregnancy itself, so we decided to save the big reveal for the delivery room.
I didn’t have any preconceived notions about whether I wanted a son or a daughter. After all of the years I spent trying to get pregnant, I truly did not care what sex the child was, I felt truly blessed to finally have the chance to be a mother.
Female friendships have always come easily to me — I have one sister who is truly my best friend, a very close relationship with my mom and lots of really wonderful girlfriends. I have never had many friendships with guys.
Growing up, we lived in a neighborhood with lots of girls and very few boys around the same age — in fact, all of the neighborhood girls played “house” nearly every day one summer, and the only neighborhood boy was invariably cast in the roll of “Scruffy” the dog! Now fast forward to me, parenting a three year old boy!
Chase is the first (and currently only) boy on my side of the family. When he was born my mom, sister and I didn’t really know what to expect, and sometimes, we still don’t. Read more…
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Arabic in the sand for "Happy Birthday UAE."
In New York, once I had kids, I tried to ignore the 4th of July. To me the 4th meant crowds, heat, and noise: too many people jammed along whichever river was the site of the fireworks, too many picnickers having too much to drink; and too much general mayhem for comfort: call me crazy, but the idea of teen-agers roaming the streets brandishing small explosive devices doesn’t seem particularly festive.
Once or twice when the boys were young, we braved the crowds, shoving the stroller ahead of us like a battering ram through the throngs. But in the long run? Not worth it.
What else I don’t do on the 4th? I don’t wear flag colors (I’m a New Yorker. We wear black. Year-round. It’s an entire city filled with women who dress like Morticia and Wednesday). Read more…
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“It wasn’t just for him, but it was for me, too!”
Have you ever been doing something while thinking that it was to help another person, only to realize it was for you, too? This has been the story of my life recently.
I have been living in New York for the past month and a half, getting my youngest son started on his career and getting my oldest son settled into his new apartment with his two roommates. He’s starting college at NYCDA (New York Conservatory for the Dramatic Arts), and it’s his first time out on his own in NY — what a place to learn about life.
I couldn’t just throw him out to the wolves — I refused to! Thankfully, my youngest son and I were blessed to stay at their apartment and slept on one of his roommates’ sleeper couches in the living room. It was interesting to say the least, but it made me an even better woman, a stronger more faith based woman. It was a journey I’ll appreciate for a lifetime.
I had my ideas of what was going to happen to us while we were visiting New York, but like always, there was another plan of action already in effect, and I didn’t even know it. Read more…
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It is hard to believe that ten years have passed since our nation was changed forever by an act of terror that claimed the lives of 2976 people. Innocent people, who woke up that day to go to work, attend a meeting, fly on a plane or bravely risk their lives to help the injured and the trapped. Their lives were cut short, and their family and friends will forever be affected by that tragic day in American history.
Most of the world experienced 9/11 through a television. For those of us that were in New York City that day, we had a front row seat to one of the most awful things imaginable.
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I am sitting at a gate in Terminal C at Newark Liberty International Airport (EWR) waiting for my flight back to Seattle. You may be wondering…”How does she have time to sit and write with two girls while she is at the airport?”
If my girls were with me, I definitely would NOT be writing.
I would be mulling this post over in my head while I watched them burn off steam running over and under seats before getting on the six hour flight back home. The beauty of this story is that I got the weekend off from mommy duty to travel east 3,000 miles to go to a wedding in New York City! I know, I mean, I really do know – LUCKY ME!! Read more…
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Buzzzz…….Buzzzz…… It is 5 a.m., and my alarm clock just buzzes away. I hit snooze one too many times, and I have that same thought cross my mind as it does every morning. I wish I could call out of work today…… But, I never do.
I have been working on Wall Street for over 15 years, and something in my nature always keeps me going.
I commonly refer to myself as a “worker bee.” The worker bee in me has been married for eleven years, waited to have a baby for six years and then went through another three years of trying before our little miracle was conceived.
I pat myself on the back when I tell people I never took a single sick day while pregnant as an example of dedication to my job.
I also continued my typical schedule during the entire pregnancy of going to bed at midnight and waking up at 5 a.m. How do I do it? Why do I do it? When will I stay home with my baby? These are the common questions I hear from friends and family at functions, parties and holiday get-togethers. Read more…
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When I was expecting my son, my husband and I decided that we would not find out if we were having a boy or girl. We had undergone fertility treatments and there was not much of a surprise about the pregnancy itself, so we decided to save the big reveal for the delivery room.
