Tag Archives: love

Jane’s First Day of School

1 Sep

Yesterday was Jane’s first day of school.

At 2 years, 7 months, my little baby went off to preschool.

I thought there would be tears on somebody’s part:  mine or hers.  Or possibly both.

But instead, it was one of the best days we’ve shared so far.

Jane was giddy with excitement and couldn’t wait to get dressed, put on her little backpack and bound down the front stairs to clamber into the car seat she usually refuses to even go near.  When we arrived at the school parking lot, she nearly pulled my arm out of the socket trying to get me to “Hurry up!

So many people have asked whether I am sad, but it’s quite the opposite.

I’m happy.  Happy that the day went off without a hitch.  Happy that my little Jane was so excited about her first day of school.  Happy that my plan of preparing her for this day by reading countless books about going to school and watching re-runs of “going to school”-type television episodes seems to have worked.  Happy that I chose to stay at home when I did.  Happy that the past two months after I quit have been purposefully spent creating an atmosphere of love and happiness and security in our little nest.  Happy that she’s ready to fly.

And off she goes . . .


CRAVE IT. COVET. LOVE IT. This Week: Love Weddings

24 Aug

This week I’m loving weddings:

Wedding season is wrapping up and we’ve been to three beautiful weddings – including a first-time marriage for our 65-year old uncle and his blushing bride – and witnessed two engagements – including my own lovely bachelor brother Uncle B’s proposal to Aunty C.

My own wedding was a mere four years ago, but already, Gump’s (where we registered) is sending me its wedding magazine.  Perhaps they were thinking that I’m done with my starter marriage and on to the next?

First or fourth, official or un-official, weddings rock.

Like our wedding bands pictured above?  Visit Philip Press Master Platinumsmiths on the Sunset Strip in West Hollywood for the ultimate in custom made engagement rings, wedding bands and one of a kind handmade pieces for your jewelry collection.  Don’t think you need to be engaged to wear one of these amazing designs:  a right-hand ring is just what every girl needs.

The Good Mother: Selfless or Selfish?

14 Apr

Most parents lashed out at Rahna Reiko Rizzuto when she confessed that she left her children in order to pursue her own dreams and find herself after five years of motherhood.  Readers practically flayed her on the stake, condemning her for choosing herself over her children.  Was it really necessary to accuse her of being “worse than Hitler“?  Does being a good mother really mean we have to give up being ourselves, sacrificing our identities at all costs?

Read my take (and see whether I qualify as a “good mother”) at Salt & Nectar’s blog here.

For those of you who haven’t visited this well-written blog yet, Salt & Nectar is a find in the vast sea of “mommy blogs.”  The authors, Sarah Stewart Holland & “The Other Sarah”, aren’t just funny, engaging and thoughtful, they’re two lawyer moms, so – naturally – they’re great!

What are you still doing here?  Get thee to Salt & Nectar!

Do you love me?

6 Mar

“I love you too much.”

-Jane, age 2

A Mother’s Love is the Best Love

21 Feb

I was contemplating the potential subject for my last Valentine’s Week post, when sitting here at my mom’s house, on my mom’s couch, with a stomach full of my mom’s cooking, it occurred to me that I have blogged about Valentine’s Day with Hubby and Valentine’s Day with the kids, but not about the person who I owe for giving me the ability to love (and of course, who I love):  my mom.

After becoming a mom myself, I have a new found respect and understanding for my mother, who not only raised and cared for me, but put up with and deftly managed my rebellious behavior and, at times (okay, most times), wayward personality.

My bent toward misbehavior and a penchant for “the night life” started at the tender age of 3.

My mom reports that as a toddler, I climbed up into my parents’ hutch, took down the wine goblets, filled them with water tinted with red food coloring, and then sipped my “wine.”

In high school, I begged and pleaded to drive myself – and three boys – six hours to Reno to see Carlos Santana . . . in the middle of a blizzard . . . without chains or experience driving the winding roads through the Sierras .  She let me go, divulging to me later as an adult, that she had to let me go.

“I handled you like a kite whipping in a furious storm:  keeping the line slack, instead of reeling you in too tightly, in case it became too taut and snapped altogether.  I would have lost you completely that way.”

Looking back, she was probably right.  And she is definitely ingenious in terms of parenting.

Jane is going through a seriously trying phase right now – waking up in the middle of the night screaming bloody murder when there is absolutely no reason for her to do so.  Refusing to eat food.  Refusing to get dressed.  Still wrestling with the idea of having a second child in the house since Sam was born nine months ago.

So today, after suffering through several 3:00 a.m. bedtimes and refused naps, in addition to waking up in the middle of the night for Sam, I sought solace and comfort in the sanctuary of my childhood home.

For a few hours, I relaxed like a child, with my mother bringing me bits of food here and there while I took up at my old desk to finish a work project in the peace and quiet.

During a break, over heart-shaped lemon cakes, we got to talking about Jane and her rebellious behavior, and my mom reminded me of the kite analogy.  She added that children should be respected and treated as human beings, not silly creatures with lesser feelings or intelligence – attributes we tend to ascribe to the infant and toddler set based on their diminutive size and limited vocabularies.

“Children are adults without experience.  They are intelligent beings, but have not yet had a lifetime of experiences to inform their decisions and influence their actions.  You have to explain to them, allow them to make decisions and exercise judgment on their own, and empower them.  How would you feel if there were people towering over you and continually telling you what to do and saying ‘No’ at every turn?”

Again, ingenious parenting advice.  It makes a world of sense.  And I tried it this evening when Jane said, “I don’t like bedtime.”

I explained to her how great it was to lie down in a bed and roll around with your stuffed animals.  That it feels so good to close your eyes at the end of the day when you’re tired.  And that it’s so nice to wake up in the morning feeling better after a good night’s sleep.

At that point it seemed that the tactic was working.  Jane agreed, “That’s a good idea, Mommy.”

Then I gave her a choice of reading a bedtime story or going straight to bed.  She stated defiantly, “I don’t like reading” (which is completely untrue) and chose to play with a balloon.  Okay, so that wasn’t a choice, but she was still engaged in a back and forth with me, so I didn’t scold her or take away the balloon.

Instead, I tried a partial ignoring, partial distraction method (as recommended by my mother):  I read one of her favorite stories to her stuffed animal and talked to him, saying, “I love reading, don’t you?  Yes, we love reading.  Let’s read this book together.

Jane nearly pounced on us and announced, “I love reading, too!”  So the three of us read together.

When it was time to get into bed, Jane cried when I first put her down.  When I asked why she was crying, she explained that she wanted to read a specific nursery rhyme book.  I obliged because I had to reward her ability to express herself and engage in a two-way discussion.  She was surprised, but her tense rebellion quickly melted into an easy smile.  After reading the book she chose, she willingly complied when I put her in bed.

Although, it took quite a bit little longer to get her down, Jane went to bed happy and on her own accord; and I was happy to not go through the typical bedtime struggle.

As a mom, I now realize how much time, energy and effort my own mother put into raising me.  (As she reminds me, it wasn’t an easy task).  It’s a wonderful feeling to be able to be cognizant of the depth and breadth of the love that someone has bestowed upon you.  And in the past two years, I have found that it is an even greater happiness to become a source of that kind of love for someone else.

Here’s to you, Mom.  Happy Valentine’s Day.

In Love with Love

15 Feb

Love, Chloe, that is.  I inexplicably fell head over heels for Chloe’s new fragrance the second I swiped the Nordstrom catalog sample on my naked, eager wrist.

It’s a strange feeling for me since I usually take the time to develop a relationship with a new scent before committing.  I tend to go for the superficial qualities at first.  You know, what’s the name of the perfume:  is it bold; does it represent me?  Who makes the perfume:  no second rate houses or trendy celebrity fragrances.

And it’s hard for me to stray from my normal type:  bold, musky fragrances like Dior’s Addict and Guerlain’s Samsara.  While I have been known to dabble in florals, those have just been daytime perfume dalliances (Givenchy’s Fleur d’Interdit; Chanel’s Chance; Bulgari’s Omnia Crystalline), not what truly satisfies me.  No; to be mine requires a bit of that mysterious je ne sais quoi characteristic of all my prior nighttime companions.

Even after getting past the first step, I like to dance around the final act of purchasing.  It’s the thrill of the chase, I suppose.  Before letting a new, unknown perfume envelop my body and titillate my senses, I need the build up of anticipation before the initial spritz.  I flip through magazines searching for the fragrance inserts; spray testers on countless paper strips at the perfume counter.  Sometimes this goes on for months.

And I need to feel connected.  Ready to take the plunge.  If I’m going to welcome a new fragrance into my life and show it off as my signature scent, there must be the potential to mesh well together.

But instead of my usual coy flirtation, this time, I jumped headlong into my love affair with Love, Chloe after only one brief catalog sample encounter.

Making a beeline to the perfume section of the Neiman Marcus cosmetics department, I swung my hair back over my shoulder for effect and announced,

In the bedroom

I’d like to buy the new Love, Chloe perfume.”

Do you want to try it on?”

No.  I know I like it.”

Brazen, right?

But I was sure.  In fact, I was so taken with this exotic bouquet, that I bought the perfumed lotion, too.  (If you’re wondering, the fragrance is a cross between Houbigant’s Quelques Fleurs and Hermes’ 24, Faubourg – a warm, spicy, sophisticated powdery floral, evoking the smell of luxurious finely milled face powders of makeup days gone by).

It’s only been two days since falling prisoner to my latest perfumery fantasy, but I’m still enamored by my impulsive affair.  There’s a spring in my step and a smile on my face, knowing inside that my new treasure and I are onto something good.

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