Some people like to travel and get away for the weekend. I’m not one of them. My idea of a great vacation would be spent on the couch, with the hubby, being able to watch an entire episode of "Blue Bloods" without interruption. An hour would be fine. In my hour of escape, dogs wouldn’t have to pee, kids wouldn’t need rides and toddlers wouldn’t smack their faces into the solitary solid object remaining in the living room. No one would call, e-mail, text, break up with a boyfriend or suddenly remember that during off season for school supply shopping, they desperately need a neon yellow 2 …
A lot can happen in nine months. After 9 months with a driver’s permit, my youngest daughter is now a licensed driver. As a public service announcement, it may be in the best interest of Morton Grove, Niles and Skokie residents to avoid black Jeep Cherokees for a while. I kid, of course. She’s actually quite a good driver. Now. Having to teach your children to drive is perhaps the cruelest trick that society has ever perpetrated on mommies. I spent years attempting to keep her safe and then, in a blink, found myself forced into the passenger seat of a moving vehicle operated by this child…
I’m back! As Collin so eloquently described in a post the other day noting my absence, 2012 has been, well, rough. It started when I answered the door one afternoon to learn that my dear next door neighbor and friend had passed away unexpectedly. Three days later, I lost my beloved grandmother. She was almost 100 and lived an amazing life, but her loss, to me, was almost unbearable. While next to no forty-somethings still have their grandparents, I have been incredibly lucky and eluded myself into thinking she and her spunky sense of humor would always be here. Just as I was pulling myself…
You may have noticed that something was a little off the past few weeks on Morton Grove, Niles and Skokie Patch. Sure, you've still been receiving our daily newsletter, you've read stories, commented and shared. But where, oh where is that witty, colorful weekly column you've been craving? Where is the "Really Real Housewife?" Have no fear, Jessica Sieghart will return this Monday, Feb. 6! Jessica has had a very rough 2012. Sadly, her grandmother passed away in January. We have been keeping her and her family in our thoughts and prayers. And just as she was about to provide you with another …
While doing some late at night Christmas shopping a month ago, I caught a glimpse of myself in a store mirror and shrieked. Donned in my bleach stained “housecleaning jeans”, my son’s rumpled high school swim team sweatshirt and in desperate need of a haircut, color, contact lenses and a week’s worth of sleep, at that moment I could have only hoped that those “What Not To Wear” TV show people would jump from behind a clothing rack with one of those $5000 Visa cards, a trip to New York and a promise to look 10 years younger. Since that didn’t happen, I knew it was time to take matters into …
It never fails. Just when I believe that I can update my Facebook status to “Woo Hoo! Done Christmas Shopping!,” someone blurts a suggestion, usually a necessity, to the proverbial list and I feel compelled to go back to the store to get it. I’m never sure that I’m “done” Christmas shopping until we’re rocking around the Christmas tree. This is no one’s fault but my own because I can’t seem to follow Santa’s time tested, virtually fool-proof, gift giving plan. You see, I don’t ask anyone what they want for Christmas and I don't make lists. I suppose if I had to operate on a scale as …
The word “fake” doesn’t generally conjure up the most positive of responses. If presented with insincerity, knockoff purses, gold plating and imitation crab meat, most of us would crunch up our noses in refusal. Are there instances, though, where fake is better than real? The answer, in three specific circumstances that come to mind, is yes. The first would be when a major bra retailer refers you to the little girl’s section of a department store because “they don’t carry sizes that small”. Really? Who else would need a bra that boasts a miracle? There’s a reason that plastic surgeons make …
My son was about four months old when he began bouncing on my lap as I held him. By the time he was nine months, he had loosened a floor board underneath his baby bouncer chair. By age four, we had Buzz Lightyear flying off our staircase and by fourth grade, the word on the street was that if anyone ever needed item recovered from a tree, my Danny was your man. He fearlessly leaps, jumps, flips and bounces with the best of them. Yeah, he doesn’t get that from me. We put my son’s incessant bouncing and flipping to good use and turned him into an All-Conference springboard diver. If only we …
One thing I’ve noticed in the not-so-long time between becoming a first time mom and a first time grandma is that today’s baby gear is of much better quality, but also far more tricky to maneuver. My grandson turned six-months-old this weekend and, to put it bluntly, he’s huge. At 22 pounds and 29 inches, I was beginning to think he was going to bust the harnesses on his infant car seat, so I treated him to one of these 3-in-1 models that accommodate rear facing, forward facing and booster seated children. It came in a box roughly the size of half of a refrigerator, but I figured, like with…
“A grandmother pretends she doesn’t know who you are on Halloween.”- Erma Bombeck. Normally, I adore Erma, but I have no idea what she meant with that statement. Grandma-hood has fully restored my relationship with Halloween. Over the years, Halloween and I have had a turbulent affair. As a child, I couldn’t wait for the day to arrive. My mother always put together creative costumes for my sister and I and school exchanged for a parade and a party. That was fun, but I couldn’t wait to get home to grab my huge plastic pumpkin and take Tootsie Rolls from strangers. It was the day you could …
Four times a week, after sleep has drawn a cease fire to the teen bickering and my grandson snoozes to Beethoven under his twinkling mobile, my husband, Steve, and I check our lottery ticket to see if we’ve become overnight gazillionaires. We haven’t won yet, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time. We’re just waiting for the Laws of Karma to boomerang on over, smash through my front window and sign a tenancy lease so that we can kick Murphy and his shenanigan laws to the curb. Since neither of us is what anyone would call materialistic, Steve often ponders as to how much a lottery win would…
