Mommy Is Sorry


I’m sickened. Bereft. Disappointed. Angry at the outcome. My mind is swimming with retorts and outright scary scenarios of what is to come. I want to tell my child that I am sorry. I tried, in my little way, to make the world better.  I voted.  I donated.  I wrote and talked about it to anyone who’d listen….but it was not enough.  I feel we have failed.  Racism is real and alive in our country. Sexism is solid. Equality is being despicably threatened and ignorance and bullying are being celebrated. What do you say to your child?

Tears are streaming down my face as I write this. The sadness about where we are, as a people, has knocked me over. Do we tell our children that love doesn’t win? Do we tell them the way to win is to bully and lie your way across the finish line? This is not the world I wanted for my son. My solace right now is that, at 2 years old, he is blissfully unaware of this hate that has been so emboldened.

I cannot listen to social media or news shows…my god, I don’t even want to look at a newspaper. I need a break from the circus. The irresponsible coverage of this event has helped it’s outcome. I want to take my family and hide away somewhere in our little cocoon. I want to wake up and believe it is all a bad dream. I need to step away and make a certain peace with this so that it doesn’t continue to take over my life. So that I can continue to parent and raise our child with compassion and knowledge, instead of the hate and ignorance that surrounds us.

Is the outcome of this political election really having such a profound affect on my being?  I have some other serious stuff happening in my life, so maybe that is why I am feeling so gutted? Or is it that I’ve realized, literally overnight, that kindness and love is in the minority, and the ugliness of what humans can be is gaining momentum.  I’ve always been a person who tries to see the good. I always find a way to be happy. I figure it out. Maybe I just need some time. But faith in my fellow country men and women has been knocked out of me. I feel like a lost child who doesn’t recognize her surroundings and can’t find her mother. I will not choose hate. I’m not made that way. But my silver lining is obstructed right now. I’ll have to let you know when I find it. Until then…I’m sorry O. You deserve so much better from the world we brought you into. Mommy is so so sorry.

Until next time, be brave. Give kindness generously. And love like our lives depend on it. I wish more of us understood that they do.

Touchstones To Get You Through The Election Season


Fall is one of my favorite times of the year.  It is a season that generously boasts such bold beauty.  In New England, it is truly spectacular.  If you are like me, you might be having a hard time seeing all the positives through this ugly election season that is truly putting a damper on my autumnal affection.  I decided some touchstones were in order.  Enough of all the negativity. I voted early. It’s up to the Gods now.  Moving on!  It’s time to let in all the sunshine and make LOVE my priority.   I implore you to make your own list of things that bring you joy during this season.  The act of writing them down brought joy to my heart.  It is good to remember what brings us to life.  Everyone’s list, of course, is different, because we are all wonderfully deliciously different.  And that is a glorious thing.  Here are some of mine.


Autumn Afternoons

The sound of leaves falling outside

The smell of a fire burning in a fireplace

Hot cider

Mums in bloom


Homemade apple sauce

The colors of autumn leaves

Trick or Treat

Lighting candles around the house

Baking in the oven

Stews and soups

Butternut Squash

Pumpkin Spice Scones at Starbucks

Hikes in the woods

Sweaters and fleeces

The sweet smell of my son’s hair after playing outside

My son’s joyful laugh while he tosses leaves in the air

Cabernet by the fire

Dozing in my husband’s arms

Ollie sandwiches (that’s a 3 person hug with Ollie in the middle)

Celebrating gratitude

The brisk night air

Starry autumn nights


Sending you much love and light this season.  It’s time for a bit of peace, love and understanding.  From what I hear, Kindness is making a huge comeback.  Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  #rosecoloredglasses #polyannawannabe




Touching Hearts


“The passion of touch warms the heart.”

My yoga teacher said that last night in class and it stuck with me.  It made me think about how we, as humans, need to be touched.  It isn’t learned.  It is instinctual.  And it isn’t a sexual thing.  Sometimes we just need to be hugged, rubbed, or caressed.  Simple as that.

I see it with my little O. He can be playing, happy as a clam, and he will walk over to me, come in for a hug and then go about his business.  It’s like a vitamin for him.  I believe that I can’t hug and kiss him enough.  Especially at this age, when he still wants me to.  He needs it.  It’s clear.  It makes him happy and secure.

I don’t know if that need evaporates when we get older, but the context of touch certainly changes.  It becomes something we are super aware of.  If we mistakenly touch a stranger, we are embarrassed and apologetic.  We are taught that touch is something we only do with people we are close to…and then it changes to something romantic and becomes gender related.  Women can hug other women, or a man.   Men generally only hug women they are romantic with (or related to) and tend to shake the hand of another male.  Shaking the hand of someone, while technically touching, doesn’t quite have the warming effect a hug provides.  Do men really need less “contact” or is that just what society tells them?  Whatever the case is, physical contact, human to human is pretty limited these days.  It’s strange and sad, really.

When was the last time you hugged someone? I mean really hugged? Not a polite hug.  That, to me,  is a glorified handshake. It’s like the “air kiss.”  Pointless.   Well, not pointless, but you know what I mean.  I’m talking about a true full body, 4-8 second hug?  My Aunt Ellie always gave me great hugs.  She would say, “touching hearts” while we were in a full embrace.  She’s been gone almost five years now and I can still feel the warmth of her touch.  Granted, we were very close.  But I would venture to say she made many other people feel just as special as she always made me feel.  I’d like to be more like my Aunt Ellie.

I’d like to teach our little O the value of the human touch. I want him to know the power of a hug and the profound meaning a simple hand on one’s shoulder can have when someone needs support.  I’d like him to seek contact with people, rather than communicate via virtual means.  And yet again, the only thing I can do is be an example.  He will choose his own way doing what he is comfortable with.  I guess, as parents, our job is show him the possibilities.  Our house is a home of affection.  We not only shower O with hugs and kisses, but we are always showing each other affection.  Touch is good.  Touch is important.  It lets us know we are loved and alive.  That our life matters to someone else.  It makes us feel safe and secure.  What was that Diana Ross song? “Reach out and touch….somebody’s hand…make this world a better place…if you can.”  Totally throwback time and totally corny…but so true! In yoga class it was more hip…..but the sentiment remains.

So until next time, go on a mission to touch someone (and yourself, if the spirit moves you but THAT’S a whole other post) and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Namaste! Xo

A Kinder Gentler Mom


I belong to several Mommy groups on Facebook. Several for older Moms…and several more for just Moms in General.  I love these groups for many reasons.  Not just for questions posed and ingenious answers that follow, but for the sense of community these groups give me. As I mentioned on my Home page, I moved my life from Florida to Massachusetts right after the birth of little O.  I have no friends here yet.   I have no support close by except my Mother-in-law, god bless her!..and some awesome family that are a phone call away.  But no daily friends to chat with and compare baby notes with. I know, I know…I can seek out play groups and “Mommy and me” type events…and I’m sure that will come, but right now, trudging through the New England snow to sing “The Wheels On The Bus,” isn’t practical or appealing.  So until the ground thaws, it’s a nice outlet to have some cyber friends going through some of the same stuff.


But last week on one of the group’s pages, who’s name shall remain nameless, because I actually can’t remember which group it was, nor does it matter….a mom posted a photo of her son who looked about 10 – 12 months old.  He was sitting in a pack and play.  She asked the question if it could hurt her son’s eyesight if he watched a cartoon through the mesh side of the pack and play.  Now before you jump to respond, let me tell you, the number of women who jumped all over this mother because she was letting her child watch television was astounding.  Now I don’t know how old she is or what her background is.  Regardless, she didn’t need to be slapped upside the head by other Mom’s when she was seeking answers.  The question she posed, was not, should my child be watching TV.  Yet, more than half of the “support group” moms chose to enlighten her, unsolicited, and some not very nicely, I might add.   Without even knowing her circumstances.  Did she have a toddler as well? Did she (fill in the blank)…..the circumstances could be anything..but one thing is for sure, they are HER circumstances.

Now I am an educated woman.  I am old enough to “know better” on many subjects.  I have been educated about “no TV for children under 2 years of age.”  But here is the big confession, cause this is about being real.    Have I put on PBS for 15-30 minutes here and there throughout a given day?  Have I introduced my little O to Thomas the Train (whom he adores!)? Have I sought out what Baby TV has to offer on Hulu? (Concertino is pretty wonderful)…so, YES.  There, I have said it.  But don’t  scream at me or chastise me.  Don’t shake your finger and raise your eyebrow.   I’m not going to defend my choice.  Because that’s the whole point of this post.  You don’t know what my circumstances are, as I don’t know what yours are.  You wouldn’t get a gasp out of me if you told me you thought Sesame Street was really good these days.  Nope.  Because YOU are raising your child…  Your unique baby who is unlike any other baby in the whole world.  And YOUR circumstances are your own.  Now, if you sat your child in front of the tube playing loops of Dexter or The Walking Dead, I’d probably think you were on crack, but I wouldn’t tell you so.  I would probably tell you about this sweet show on PBS, Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood, that teaches practical skills for growing and developing.  But again, it’s a fine line we tread.

I had a woman after my last blog “How To Have It All…Just Not All At Once,” who commented unfavorably regarding what I said about having a child in daycare.  I had said that if I had to put my son in daycare everyday, it would be someone else essentially raising my son.  Now, there is NO judgement in that statement. Perhaps it was a bit of a blanket statement and for that, I apologize.  I understand that women have to do whatever they can to make things work.  But it is over 8 hours a day of someone else caring for your child.  Yes, you instill your values and are raising your child, but there is an outside influence that is clocking in a lot of hours.  It’s not judgement, it’s just fact.  The point is, this mother responded with such defense.  And I get it.  Because as mothers we feel like we have to defend every move we make…from formula feeding, to TV time, to you name it.  Most of us question  every choice we make throughout the day.  We do a number on ourselves constantly….do we really need another mother’s judgement? The stay at home mom is constantly defending her choice to stay at home….the working mom is defending her choice/or necessity to remain in the work force.  And that is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what we may feel guilty or insecure about.

I’m sure you all have seen the Similac commercial “The Sisterhood of Motherhood.”   It blew up my Facebook the day it started being shared.  You can click on the title here to take a gander.  The reason it is funny…is because there is truth in it. ( truth in comedy, right?)  I mean, there was going to be a rumble at that playground! Mothers against mothers….against mothers.  It took a baby being in danger to bond them all.  Why should it take a tragedy to bring people together? I mean, really Ladies? Aren’t we better than that?  Why is it we are so quick to pounce on each other?  Why can’t we be each other’s champions and cheerleaders? Where is empathy among Mothers? Come to think of it, where is empathy among all people?  Why are we so quick to find each other’s faults?

This endeavor of mothering takes courage, stamina, and at times, a god-like amount of patience.  To rephrase an old adage…never judge a mother till you’ve walked a mile in her shoes, be they Gucci pumps or sensible flats.  The truth is, we need each other.  I need help, encouragement, and friendship everyday.  And wine.  Lots of wine. But seriously, a reassuring nod from the sisterhood of motherhood goes a long way.  When I’m navigating my stroller in the slushy parking lot of my local Target, and I see another mom doing the same….I try to give her a reassuring smile.  Sometimes a kind comment.  The point is, even the smallest kindness can get you through a day. Especially a tough day.  We all have them. So the next time we rush to judge, or comment on a Facebook post…Take pause.  Think.  Could this be you?  If not now, maybe someday soon?  If there are two things  I’ve learned in my “advanced maternal age” is to never say never and kindness goes a long way.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight, and remember…behind every great kid, is a mom who is sure she is messing it up! :)) xo