We're the beneficiaries of every great service that most New Yorkers are privy too: Tons of parks and playgrounds, classes, building playrooms, museums, culture, diversity... and getting to our New York offerings in a New York minute.
You feel like you are winning at times. You excel in one way, but always have a weaker leg of the race. You prepare, but you never know what the weather will be like that day. It could be cold and windy or really freakin' hot.
These days, it's sometimes hard to recall who we were before parenthood. Sure, you're still you and I'm still me, but having two kids in just as many years has made it difficult to take a breath and step outside of our roles as mother and father.
I've learned most mothers are good at what they do, flaws and all. In fact, it's our flaws that make us capable of instilling grace in our children. We have to learn to trust our instincts and trust that even when giving our best fails us, we are not failures.
It was a treat to watch a film that got me thinking about my own life experiences (in the same way, I imagine, it got a lot of people thinking about their own experiences) and the life still yet to be lived.
This winter has been brutal. I'm not talking about the freezing-your-buns-off, slipping-and-sliding-on-the-sidewalks, snow-up-to-your-armpits kind of brutal. I'm referring to enduring repeated school cancellations due to cold air and slippery streets.
The only two things these boys shared was a gene pool and an innate desire to irritate the hell out of each other. Son #1 and Son #2 possessed different interests, different personalities and different world views altogether.
As I sat down at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and my iPhone, I noticed that my husband was busy unloading the dishwasher and re-organizing a cupboard. A wave of guilt washed over me. I'd slept later than he had by a good hour, yet I had no intention of getting up to help him.
Babies don't yet know how to hide their hearts and concoct masks. They are not afraid of looking stupid. They don't know judgment. What you see on a baby's face is the closest glimpse inside the human soul as possible.
The stress and the fear of this kid getting into something he shouldn't while I'm dealing with all the other lives in this house has me at my breaking point. Scratch that, my broken point. I'm a frazzled, frantic, mess. It's not a good look.
Good sales people don't have all the answers to customer's problems, but they do everything they can to find them. They don't win your trust and throw you over to an account manager after meeting quota on your dime.
Like most children, my 5-year-old is obsessed with Christmas. He loves the brightly colored lights. He is spellbound by Christmas trees. He gleefully sings about reindeers, Santa, and jingle bells. The only problem is that we're Jewish and we don't celebrate Christmas.
Before the news about Bill Cosby surfaced and broke my heart, to me, he was a parenting rockstar. He was the one who made us laugh and feel that this whole parenthood thing wouldn't be so bad after all.
Warning: I have already been told this subject makes a lot of people uncomfortable. My employees were cool when I announced it during our Monday morning meeting, but I knew they were all cringing inside.
There was a me, before there was a mom. I was my parent's first child, and I was loved and very special to them. I had adventures and experiences as a child and teenager that helped mold me. As a young woman I went out and explored the world, like you are now.
Six years ago unbeknownst, hell unplanned by me I'd just gotten knocked up with T. Of all the thousands of lessons I've learned from parenting in the last six years, perhaps the weirdest has been sometimes it is a relief to find out that another kid puked a little in your kid's hair.