Year: 2015

This is (Almost) Forty

So 2016 is the year I turn forty. I’m not sure how well I’m going to handle it. I’m constantly reading posts with titles like “Life Begins at Forty!” and “Forty is When Life Gets Good!”. Hmmm…. Well, I’m trying to stay positive as I hurtle toward this milestone but lately I’ve definitely been feeling my age. I will admit that I can list many good points to being…older.  However, I also can list many, many not so great reasons why forty is most definitely NOT “The New Thirty”. I’ll start with those: My more recent Christmas “gifts” have included: a new transmission, a new stove, and a new ceiling in my dining room to fix the damage from my leaking bathroom (oh and a new shower). I was excited about all of them. Saturday nights are often laundry nights. Every other Saturday night is bed-changing night. If I drink more than two glasses of wine while out silliness, tripping, and spilling will ensue. More than two glasses of wine consumed at home leads to extreme sleepiness. I have aches and pains in strange places and no idea how I injured anything. I wake up more tired than I was when I went to bed. Instead of receiving wedding invitations we hear about divorces. Instead of attending baby showers I attend “graduations” from pre-k, sixth grade, middle school… Several...

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The More Things Stay the Same

No, I do not want to build a snow man. I just…No. Ugh. I shouldn’t complain, but I’ve been so spoiled with this lovely “Springmas” we’ve been having. And when you’re spoiled that makes reality that much harder. So this morning, I grumbled as I dug out my boots and gloves, grabbed a shovel and went out with my husband to attack my driveway. Then I helped my daughter get into her snow pants and boots so she could have a great day at camp. Panic set in as I realized I had not checked to see if said pants and boots would actually fit. I was 1 for 2. The pants fit but not the boots. At least she waited until we got to camp to tell me they hurt her toes. This happens to me every year. I’m never prepared: the boots are too small in winter; the bathing suit is too tight in summer. So I started thinking, what if I started trying harder to be better at the things I just suck at? Let’s start with being on time. I could use a lot of help here. I am late for everything. Usually because I need to do 9,376 things before I walk out the door. So what if I cut back to 8,435 things? Still going to be late. Ok, I could just get...

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Family Ski Weekend, courtesy of El Nino

I write this from a Vermont mountainside condo. The steep slopes, which should be covered in lovely white snow and peppered with skiers, are strips of brown grass. A chilly rain and dense cloud cover set a gloomy mood. The chair lifts are stationery, the parking lot nearly vacant. It’s a resort ghost town in a historically desirable ski weekend. Such is the plight of skier life. Last winter, some of the country’s baddest-ass skiing was in the Northeast. We got pleasantly pounded with fresh powder, storm after storm, while the West suffered a painfully dry winter. As luck would have it, last year I had a strong realization that I wanted to get back into skiing, after years of going once or twice a season and renting gear. I decided that skiing was important as a family activity, and we invested accordingly. This year, the West is enjoying a powdery paradise, while we New Englanders are experiencing a downright tropical December. Thanks El Nino, but I prefer some resemblance of winter to amp up the holiday spirit. In early November, our family (us four, my parents, and sister and her young family) agreed to hit the slopes over Christmas vacation. We went all out and rented a mountainside condo, perhaps for the first time in my life. We registered the kids for ski school, daycare for the littluns, and...

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for the holiday…a drug holiday

In the world of the chronically ill, there is a fantastic sounding phrase called “the drug holiday.” To me, this always evokes images of sun-drenched beaches where all the overworked pill bottles and syringe dispensers go to relax and take a break from the demands of their patients. And maybe another sun-drenched beach where those patients go, free from the confines of schedules and side effects and careful meal balancing and the math gymnastics involved in every Daylight Savings Time switch.

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Tips on Having a Tear-Free Christmas

If you celebrate Christmas, you can probably relate to the fact that there is so much pressure to have a perfect, sparkly Christmas morning.  And those of us with young children know that amongst all the sparkle, come the over-tired, overwhelmed, over-excited tears.  Here are a few things I’ve found to be helpful in navigating the chaos and minimizing the tears. THE NIGHT BEFORE…   Before you wrap, open all those horrible plastic packages, put together anything that requires assembly, and put in batteries if required.  Then wrap.  This will save all the “Can you open this?!  I need scissors!  No, a knife!  Where is the Philips head screw driver?  How do we not have any AA batteries in this house?!” on Christmas morning.  This year, the one thing my four-year-old wants is The Ultimate Garage.  So yesterday, while the house was empty, I sat on the floor, laid out the 356,000 pieces, and attempted to decipher the 21 page instruction manual.  I can proudly tell you that two hours and a trip to CVS later (turns out we actually didn’t have any AA batteries), the box of plastic had been transformed into The Ultimate Garage.     Go over the morning plan.  What time is acceptable to wake up?  If you wake up before Mom and Dad, don’t go downstairs yet, don’t climb in the crib with your little brother, things like that.     Prepare the coffee so all you...

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