Which One Ticks Me Off More? The Pedophile Or The Young Mother?

At the end of my street lived a woman in her 80’s and a her nephew. The Nephew was a middle aged man with typical habits, but nothing about him looked too strange. He had a train set in the garage and he wanted to show it to my kids a few years ago. I thank gawd every day that I met him when the kids were toddlers. The rule has been this: You are allowed to walk down the street and around the corner but under no circumstances are …

My Kids Never Hit First But They Always Hit Hardest

I’m a pragmatic woman, and that’s translated into my parenting. My son is seven and my daughter is ten. In ten years of parenting I have not uttered the words “don’t hit”. In our family the mantra is “don’t hit first”. If you hit hardest, it’s entirely likely I’ll take you out for ice cream. Why? Safety. My son Alexander is a red head, not just any old red either. Alexander’s hair is an incredibly rich shade of deep red that doesn’t quite shift into auburn. Alexander started wearing glasses …

She Smelled Like Urine and We Ate Slow Roasted Goat In Silence

One of my great pleasures as a housewife is lunch. Lunch is a silent affair eaten off my Grandmother’s Rosenthal China if I’m home, or if I go out it’s typically to an ethnic restaurant where the tab is $10 or less, the sanitation may be questionable, and the food is authentic. Last week I was craving birria tacos. Birria is a slow roasted goat meat that is very flavorful without being gamey. There’s one taco shack (and I mean shack) in Hollywood where the Birria is consistently good. So …

Colorado Ski Vacation: Where I Finally Ski

As the antibiotics kick in and Alexander’s fever subsides we start having a little fun. The kids disappear into the snow and build forts. We caution them to stick together, but there is no lecture about the homeless guy on Ventura or the speed of cars. Instead we worry about boots falling off or spats between children. The kids go to daycare ski school for a few hours and Robert and I take a few runs together. It’s fun, but it’s pretty tame and I’m needing just a little more. …

Ten Perfect Years

As Jane is ten today I realize that Mr G and I have had ten perfect years. For ten years we have been perfect parents. Perfectly awful. Not every day, but there’s a learning curve and dear sweet Jane is our first experiment. We’ve made a few mistakes, but rest assured we’ve breezily blamed it on our own parents as they were the ones to err first. Jane took us from our adolescence and moved us into adulthood. Although planned, nothing could have prepared us for Jane’s entry into our …