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FEATURE ESSAYS Mom Writer Lisa Garrigues: The Importance of Writing Motherhood As mom writers, many of us recognize the benefits that come with writing about our motherhood experiences. Now, award-winning writer and experienced educator, Lisa Garrigues, has created an invaluable resource for any mother, writer or not, to begin chronicling her own unique journey through motherhood. Continue reading Mom Writer Lisa Garrigues: The Importance of Writing Motherhood Guest Features Flower Children This time of year, when the light dims and the colors dull, I put my garden to bed. It’s like putting my children to bed only in the most literal sense; I cover them both to protect them from the cold. Putting the garden to bed involves no cajoling or threats, no interruptions to what I attempt to do after eight o’clock, no snuggling or stories or kisses. I go outside in a spare moment here or there to cut back the wisteria to a tidy grid on the lattice so it won’t take over the house next spring. I move the last few perennials around. (I move my plants like I move furniture.) I plant a few new bulbs – last fall, some pink cyclamen and early snow glories. I pull out the pumpkin vines and the pole beans and rake the remaining crumbling leaves into big, paper recycling bags and drag them out to the curb. The frost comes nearly every morning, white and gray and silver, crackling underfoot as my girls and I leave for school, and we settle into our winter routine indoors...
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Genetic Code “She shouldn’t have that,” I intercede just as my husband puts a spoonful of ice cream into Merritt’s mouth. At five years old, Merritt our youngest of four children has a very restrictive diet. No birthday cakes at parties or Slushies at Target. No ribs on the 4th of July or turkey on Thanksgiving. Continue reading Genetic Code
From Single to Only My children were six and seven, when I filed for divorce and the court removed their father from the home he refused to leave on his own. Even before that, I often thought of myself as a single parent. My children’s father was an alcoholic and a drug addict. He was not – could not be – a good parent. After the divorce, because he provided so little support (monetary or otherwise) for our two sons, I began to think of myself as their only parent. That was a kind of conceit, something I understand better now that he is dead. I was the only healthy parent my children had. But they had another living and present parent: their father. My ex-husband and I spent many hours in family court and custody hearings... Continue reading From Single to Only
A Tale of Two Ariels These days, princesses are rampant. You see them everywhere: in the mall, at the preschools, at McDonald’s. It almost makes you wonder what on earth has happened to our democratic society. Then again, the princesses parading around today are generally preschool age all they know is that princesses wear deliciously frilly ball gowns while they snack on Goldfish and juice. That’s about enough information for them. I have two girls. They are not princesses, but they would like to be. I have told them that you really can’t be an aspiring princess these days – William and Harry are out there of course, but alas, the timing is somewhat off. Not meant to be, I shrug, as they traipse off to their rooms, where they can nestle in with their trunks full of ball gowns, princess posters and pillowcases, and plastic “jewel” encrusted tiaras. Yes, the princess mystique has permeated our lives to a degree that is almost embarrassing to describe in detail. I will note for the ages, however, that the first printed words my 3-year-old could recognize on sight were, “Disney Princess...”
Birthday Wishes As soon as my Mom called, I knew what she was going to say. It was early August, a few weeks before my birthday, and I had been avoiding the conversation. “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she said, “What do you want for your 41st? You haven’t said anything yet.” She knew I kept a running list with at least one or two requests: a funky wallet, pearl hoop earrings, red leather backpack. “There’s something I wish you could get for me,” I said feeling the tears begin to form. “But I know you can’t.” This year I was list-less. Our three children were in France visiting their paternal grandparents, and my husband Philippe and I were still home in New York. Benjamin left in early July, Daniella and Simone in late July. Our plan was to leave for France mid-August and for Israel two weeks later to celebrate our son Benjamin becoming a Bar Mitzvah. Slowly, tears slid down my cheeks... Continue reading Birthday Wishes
Some Like it Hot When Twisting Themselves into Knots I felt it was good karma showing me a sign. A small plastic one, in fact, outside a Bikram hot yoga studio reading “10 classes for $10.” Wow, with a deal like that I could reach all the way to Nirvana without stretching my wallet. I took a leap of faith and signed up. I try to live by the motto, “never let them see you sweat,” so when I arrived for my first class, I planned to play it cool. I'd obviously never taken hot yoga before. The room was heated hotter then Hades, somewhere north of 105 degrees. A few minutes of warm-up stretching, and I was already vaporizing. I tried to pass it off as my “aura...”
Noble Gas I stared at the helium-filled balloons my six and 3-year-old grandsons, Ryan and David, directed me to hold; keep the strings tight around the fingers, they said. It was a bouquet of their favorite colors some with pictures of cartoon characters. The boys and their parents, my son and daughter-in-law live in Boston, and were visiting me in California. I had my grandsons to myself for a few hours while their parents shopped. We took the shortcut from my house through the parking lot to the playground. They ran ahead to the jungle gym, climbed on the swings and tried every piece of playground equipment. A few times, Ryan turned to me, pointed to the balloons with a smile, and mouthed something in my direction. David followed in pantomime. Sitting there, I felt a cool burst of autumn air tug at the balloon strings. I tightened my hold and thought about the pleasure and pull of family. Helium, I recalled, the noble gas that heads the series in the periodic table of elements; weightless, colorless, odorless and tasteless, able to lift little Mylar balls in defiance of gravity. Had the balloons not been tethered to my fingers, I wondered, and smiled at the prospect... Continue reading Noble Gas
Careful or You'll End Up in My Novel "Your heart is rent." - Golda Meir One night I dream that my ex-husband’s new girlfriend arrives at his house with her daughter. I don’t know if Tiffany has a daughter, but in my dream the little girl is three or four, dimpled and blonde like my son Alex. Tiffany introduces her: “Alex, this is Alex,” she says. I watch my Alex’s stunned face as this girl, Alex, jumps into his dad’s arms.
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