It’s Tuesday, and that means … time to dip into the blog archives for a double shot of some old favorites from back in the day — before I discovered the beauty and the power of the Share button.
Last night as my friend Jordan was helping me navigate the intricacies of social networking sites, he asked me, ”So how’d you come up with your blog name?” Oddly, he hasn’t been the only one to ask me that in recent days, so in honor of The Ever- Helpful Jordan, who thankfully works for brownie slabs and advice about girls, and for other curious readers, here’s how my blog came to be named Don’t Put Lizards In Your Ears … because, in fact, not everybody’s old enough to know better.
Don’t put lizards in your ears.
Who would, right? I mean, that’s a pretty weird thing to say. Good advice, but a bit incongruous. And really, how often do those words actually come together in conversation? In my experience … uh, never. But I’m finding that as a new mom — and a late-in-life mom at that — I say a whole lot of things to my 2-year-old son, Fletcher, that I never — not in all my wildest college-era hallucinogenic-fueled dreams — thought would tumble out of my mouth. Read more …
[What's the most bizarre thing that you've ever said to your kid? Post a comment or email me!]
Meanwhile, while we were flying home from Denver last week, Fletcher commandeered my laptop to watch Stuart Little, which gave me a chance to catch up on my New York magazines. (Truly, the bathroom and the cabin of an airplane are the only places I can read in peace these days … though I don’t recommend an airplane cabin bathroom!) I was transfixed by Jeff Coplon’s “Five-Year-Olds At The Gate,” about the incredible lack of public school seats available for the city’s exploding kindergarten population. A close friend recently told me that her youngest had gotten wait-listed at several public kindergartens and she wasn’t sure what would happen come Fall. “What am I paying taxes for?” she wondered. All of which made me grateful that, much as I miss it, we don’t live in New York anymore … and that I only have one child to worry about getting into school. Even as one of my cousins is contemplating having a third, once again, here’s why one’s absolutely enough for me.
When I got married the first time, I don’t think the wedding band was on my finger 15 minutes before my father asked, “So when am I going to have a grandchild?” Well, 12 years, one divorce and another wedding later, he finally got a grandson. And barely a year later, I started getting from all quarters, “So, when are you going to have another one?”
Huh? Are you kidding me?!?! I’m still adjusting to this one.
My standard reply alternates between “We don’t want to have more kids than we can afford to send through graduate school” and “Well … maybe if we’d started earlier …” Yes, I’m aware that women in their late 50s are having babies, thank you Aleta St. James. Hey, if you wanna be pushing 80 at your kid’s college graduation, go for it … and I hope that in the excitement of watching your progeny receive a diploma, you don’t trip over your walker and break a hip. But, as far as I’m concerned, this factory produced a single model and is hereby closed to business. Read more …
[What's your ideal family size? Post a comment or email me!]
Recent Comments