These Are The Days

Smart ~ Writer ~ Mom

Month: April 2016

My Bedroom Wall Is Better Than Trump’s Wall

Thirteen-year old Kim would be very disappointed if she knew how this whole thing turns out.

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This is what one of my bedroom walls looked like circa 1983.

Check out that groovy floral print wallpaper. I. Am. Dying.

Yes, Scott Baio was my everything back then. Tuesday nights were all about ABC and Happy Days.

Oh Chachi…

I raced to Bob’s Market to get the latest issue of Tiger Beat, always hoping he was on the cover or – even better – on a full page spread inside.

I knew all the words to the Joanie Loves Chachi theme song “You Look At Me.” Omg I’m singing it now.

I thought for sure our nine-year age difference was no big deal. I figured we would date as soon as I moved to California to start my new life as a photographer / actress and then we’d get married and live in a mansion in the Hollywood Hills forever and ever.

I had a plan.

And I admit that for years I hung on to my Scott Baio fantasy. Even though he turned into a skeevy creep, I still defended him. Omg. I even watched his reality show a few years ago. Nothing could turn me against him. Nothing.

Until he came out loud and proud for Donald Trump.

Sleep with millions of women? Eh, they’re exaggerating.
Kind of a jerk in social circles? Eh, he’s just moody.
Pledge your allegiance to Donald Trump?

I believe we’re all finished here.

Bye Chachi. My heart is broken.

Nothing will give me greater pleasure than voting blue tomorrow.

(Omg I can’t just walk away forever. My lucky number has always been and WILL ALWAYS BE 22 in honor of his birthday on September 22. I just won’t tell anyone.)

Bubble Wrap and Prayers

I’m not a praying person. At least not in the conventional way. I don’t attend church and I don’t have a bedtime ritual or even a dinnertime ritual that involves any kind of prayer or meditation. Unless of course you count our five year old who occasionally feels compelled to say the mealtime prayer she learned at school, which ends: “thank you God for feeling me.” She says feeling me instead of feeding me.

Any time I travel by plane, I engage my pre-flight ritual. It’s a very informal phrase I recite silently as I walk the jetway to board a plane. I used to close my eyes but after one collision with a headphone-wearing teenager, I’ve decided to keep my eyes open. I’ve been saying it to myself for years. Every plane flight. Same words, same sense of worry, same intention. And even though I don’t always remember to express gratitude every day, I do always remember to pause when my plane has landed safely and send a silent note of gratitude to the universe. Just my way of coping with my fear of flying, I suppose, without letting it paralyze me and literally ground me.

But despite the lack of any formal prayer routine, I find myself thinking lots of little prayers or whispers throughout the day. Please help her to be a good friend. Please help her be patient with herself. Please keep him safe. Please help me not yell so much. Please don’t let me buy any more Oreos. 

I like to think that whomever receives my little prayers and whispers is sympathetic to the Oreo struggle.

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I saw this today in a friend’s Facebook feed and I liked it.

I try really hard to not be one of those helicopter parents, but it’s hard. Oh my lord is it hard. Sometimes, I just want to get a huge roll of bubble wrap and wrap it around my kids’ hearts, bodies, minds, spirits – so nothing can hurt their little bodies and their little hearts.

I know it’s not practical, but I still wish I could do it.
Since I can’t, I think I’ll lean on this.

 

#MicroblogMonday: Patriots Day

1385861_10202622211899717_1295683755_nToday is Patriots Day across most of New England and it’s one of the coolest days to be a Bostonian, even if you don’t live there anymore.

It’s a state holiday in Massachusetts and, I’m pretty certain, Maine. Not quite sure about the other four New England States. What’s up, Rhode Island?

Patriots Day commemorates the battles of Lexington and Concord which of course, kicked off the Revolutionary War, and it’s also the day when thousands of runners tackle one of the toughest courses in the country – the Boston Marathon.

Today, I’m catching highlights on Twitter, but back in the 70s and 80s, I remember watching the Marathon live on TV (Channel 5, to be exact. With Natalie Jacobsen and Chet Curtis anchoring) and hearing familiar names like Bill Rodgers, from my hometown (did he live there? train there? grow up there? not sure). And goodness. Joan Benoit – a woman who seemed to defy conventional female athleticism then and apparently now, as per my Google search just a moment ago to see what she’s been up to.

Patriots Day was always a school holiday and it usually fell during school vacation. (The battle date is April 19, but the day is always observed on the third Monday in April.) One year, I spent the day at a friend’s house. Her father was a mailman, so I remember he was off work. I was in fourth grade and my friend and I sat coloring in the living room nibbling on iced oatmeal cookies and apple juice while the  TV, with antennae positioned just so, was tuned to the race. I remember hearing the reporters’ voices over the cheering crowds, gleefully announcing names (usually Kenyan) of those finishing in the first spots. And I remember hearing about Heartbreak Hill and watching the agony on runners’ faces as they faced this daunting challenge in an already grueling race. For a kid watching on TV, it was always a pretty exciting day.

And of course, just a few years ago, I remember being at home working and suddenly seeing my Twitter feed light up with news of a bombing. Suddenly this annual hometown tradition was thrust into the world spotlight, as I tuned to CNN to fill in the gaps and put images to the words I read on social media.

It was a horrible day, but the spirit and resilience of the city shone brightly in the days, weeks, and now years that followed.

Today, in Delaware, I caught the highlights on social media as usual, and I couldn’t help but notice it’s a bright, sunny day for the runners. Happy Patriots Day, Boston.

This post is part of #MicroBlogMondays. Head over to Stirrup Queens to find out more.

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