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Are you by any chance:

(A) Stuck in line at the post office mailing holiday gifts?

(B) Killing time in the pick-up line while a bunch of jerks I mean very nice parents at your kid’s school take their sweet damn time?


(C) Trying to find a reason to stay seated at your computer so you can finish a second cup of coffee and a bunch of sprinkled Xmas cookies that are so disgusting/delicious for breakfast?  (Or is that just me?)

Well let me help you out with some reading material!

Here are 7 ideas for family fun time over the holidays…

Find out why Nicole Kidman and I would totally be BFFs…

Ever have a head cold while pregnant?  It sucks…

But having a high risk pregnancy is not so bad…

I’m more worried about what to do with Viv when I go into labor

And the sudden appearance of mean girls in her life (or am I just projecting?)…

Speaking of Viv, why must her birthday be so close to the Chanukah/Xmas/New Year’s?

Hope you’re having a wonderful holiday season.  Leave me a comment and say hi!



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7 Reasons I Hate Wearing a Bra

Loyal Readers: I wrote the following post for  When I write for that site, they judge me based on number of views.  So if you want to read my bra story (because it’s funny!) please do, but if you don’t have time and want to help a girl out, just click on the link at the end of this post and it will count against my total.  This is the world we live in now.  Print is dead.  Long live clicks!  Thank you and now back to the blog.


When I was 13, I was desperate to wear a bra, even if it meant stuffing an A-cup with toilet paper to compensate for my flat chest. These days, all I want to do is remove my bra. Desperately. Sometimes I can’t even wait to get home and I’ll whip off my bra in the car (using the same through-the-sleeve trick that Jennifer Beals employed in “Flashdance”—it’s magic!).

I am blessed with reasonably perky, smallish boobs that can hold their own without much support. The only things getting in my way of total bralessness are my nipples, which can turn a conservative outfit into a wet t-shirt contest just by saying hello. So I brave the bra, even though I hate it, for many, many reasons:

1. The underwire is trying to kill me – I’ve heard men complain that they feel choked by their neckties. Well how would they like having a wire bound around their solar plexus? My bras cut off my circulation and make me short of breath, like some turn of the century woman in a corset. I don’t know if this is a fluke of my anatomy or a poor fit, but decades of bra experimentation have done nothing to solve the problem.

2. They’re itchy – Even the smoothest, lace-free styles irritate my sensitive skin, making me claw at my back like a self-grooming monkey. Very attractive in public.

3. The straps give me back fat – Naked, I look okay. Stick a bra on me and all of a sudden there are weird pockets of flesh oozing out the sides. Maybe my skin is just trying to get away from my bra? (see #2)

Continue reading at…

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My Daughter’s First Nutcracker Ballet (aka Just How Long Can a Preschooler Sit Still?)

Since my nearly 4-year-old daughter is taking ballet and wears mainly tutus these days, I couldn’t resist getting tickets to our local production of The Nutcracker. I’d like to tell you we dressed her up for the occasion, but this is pretty much a typical day around here.


When I was growing up in Connecticut, my mom used to take me into Manhattan to see The Nutcracker at Lincoln Center, and it was a big deal.  I loved the music, the dancing and the pageantry – especially the Christmas tree that magically grew on stage — and I was really excited to share our tradition with my own daughter.

Before the show started, we took Viv down to the orchestra pit to see the musicians tuning up.   See kid, not all music comes from mom’s iPod!


Once the ballet began, she had a lot of questions:

“What is that boy doing to the nutcracker?”

“When is the tree going to grow?”

“I want to meet Clara.  Will she come down off the stage?”

“Can we go see the musicians again right now?”

That’s when I realized, ballet is great for kids because there’s no dialogue to talk over.

There was a point where the Snow Queen came out twirling in a gorgeous white gown and Viv was utterly mesmerized.  I totally teared up watching her, the same way I did when she choreographed her first dance to “Let it Go” in our living room.  They move me, these milestones that mark my baby growing into a girl.  Hold me closer, tiny dancer.


During intermission, she easily talked me into buying her this tiara.


Which, five mintues later, was discarded into my purse for “making my head hurt.”  I resisted telling her that you have to suffer for beauty.

Viv got a little squirmy during the second act, with a couple of tense moments where Dave and I wondered whether it was possible to make a break for it, and if we had time to carry her out over the heads of a dozen seated ticketholders during the applause between dances.  But she made it through with a little help from our friend gummy bears.

I’m always worried that we’re watching too much TV and other junk (like straight to video Little Mermaid sequels) at home, so I was thrilled to give Viv a traditional live theater experience.


Of course, after the show, she told me, “I really liked that movie, mama.”

We’ll work on it.

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9 New Years Resolutions This Mom’s Guaranteed to Break

It’s that time of year again, so let’s wipe the slate clean and set some personal goals for 2015, shall we? As a first-time mom, I’m always looking to up my game, and I know I have lots of room for improvement. Of course, with every well-intentioned resolution comes the realization of just how easily I’ll screw it up.

1. No more using TV as a babysitter – If I need to occupy my daughter while I do some work, I’ll just set up a quick craft. Except that art projects nearly always lead to glitter in the floorboards, Play-Doh in my fingernails and “washable” (yeah right) paint all over my kid, while the TV just has that neat little on/off switch. Hmmm.

2. I will be more patient – When my preschooler asks me the same question 17 times in a row, I will not holler her first name in exasperation like it’s a swear word. I will calmly say, “Asked and answered, sweetie.” Because I’m sure that will work flawlessly to stop the madness.

3. No more short-order cooking at dinner – My kid is notorious for requesting pasta ten seconds after I plate her quesadilla, but with baby #2 on the way, I’ve got to put my foot down on specialty meals. At least until that sad little puppy face implores, “But I’m hunnnngry.”

4. I won’t check my email/texts/Facebook in front of my kid – The latest Kardashian nudity scandal is never more important that what my 3-year-old is saying—it just seems that way at the time. So I’m turning off those chirpy notifications and hiding my phone. Except whenever another Cosby accuser comes forward. I’m all over that.

Continue the list at…

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The Secret To Ending Tantrums

Does it ever feel like your toddler has multiple personalities, like, say, Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde? One day, my daughter is offering to help me set the table for dinner. The next day, she’s screaming bloody murder and throwing her plate across the room because I dared to cut her waffle into pieces that were “too small!”

While most toddlers resemble psychiatric patients from time to time, I’m pretty sure age 3 is too young to worry about a bipolar diagnosis. So what’s with the erratic mood swings and unpredictable behavior? Some of it is just normal toddler stuff, of course. But why are some days good and some days so very bad?

My husband and I have spent months pondering this phenomenon, often blaming ourselves for our kid’s nutty antics. “Maybe I didn’t give her enough advance warning that we’d be leaving the park,” I’d lament. Or “I wonder if she’s upset that I’ve been working more lately.”

Then, finally, we figured it out. The answer was as simple as Z.Z.Z.

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