And today's that day

Today is September 8. Aside from being the day before my birthday, it's also the first day of school for many of my friends' kids. We started last week, but in Toronto today is the day. 

And I can't help but feel sad. Homesick. Left out. By 9am I will see more back to school pictures than I ever cared to.  I'll see kids lined up in front of their perfect houses, holding chalk board signs in their ever growing hands. First day of grade one, two, three.  There will be close ups of backpacks and lunches.  By 9:15 I'll see lots of smiling faces.  Beaming about going back to school.  These faces will all belong to my girlfriends. Actually by now,  even the kids will be happy to get back to a routine.  

But first we will see the end of summer pics. A few last camp shots, barbecues, and definitely a s'more or two. There will be beach photos and bikinis too.  

I'll pour through tons of these memories in the making and I'll feel left out and empty. It's the first time since we've moved back to America that life here will feel real. 

We've truly left our home of 14 years and it seems the city is functioning without us. My kids' school bell in toronto will ring at its regular time. Kids will run down our old street. They'll pack into that overcrowded building and my two will be absent. Today and everyday. 

While I'm so grateful to technology for keeping us connected, I can't help but feel lonely. And upset that I won't be there at drop off.  I'll miss the walk over to our favourite coffee shop.  And then at 3:10 today I'll miss my favourite time to catch up with the mama drama. The playground politics.  

Don't get me wrong. I love my new town school.  I already adore a big bunch of the new parents. It's just that I had built those friendships for 7 plus years

So when I come home for a visit Toronto, please don't take me to the CN tower. I'm not interested in the latest restaurant. Or the coolest stores. 

But please let me back in the circle at the playground.  Let me catch up with you about quick dinner and lunch prep ideas. Tell me your new crockpot tricks.  Invite me to grocery shop with you again. I loved it and I'd take it over a fancy dinner out any day...

I only want to be part of your ordinary. Your everyday. Even though I'm so far away. Today and always. 

Miss you loads. 

Stay at home.

Dear family,

Since you're all still sleeping, I thought I'd use my free time to send you a thank you note. A love letter, if you will.  After all, the whites are washing and there must be at least 32 minutes left in the cycle. 

Speaking of which, I love to do your laundry.  Yes, I really do. Some days I remind myself how lucky I am to have a masters degree and a private school education. Surely all my knowledge of art history and psychology gives me a leg up with stain removal and the like.  

Not only do I love the act of doing your laundry, but I enjoy scanning the house searching for your dirty clothes.  This is most fun before a school day when you desperately need your black sparkly leggings. I search and search and then usually find said item in a ball. Crumbled. On your bedroom floor. 

I also love to wash towels. Especially the ones you use once to shower.  Or to swim. Don't even get me started on water preservation. Planet  Earth be damned. 

I also really enjoy packing your lunches. I love the high of running through various grocery stores to find the items you happen to love this week. A specific kind of Turkey for sandwiches? Nitrate free.  A Portuguese bun? Organic milk boxes? I'm on it.  

And because I'm so good I'll be sure to wrap everything in sustainable packaging   Mostly because i live to wash lunch containers after a long school day.  What I love even more is finding the containers at the bottom of your bag early the next morning. Cleaning out moldy peaches starts anyone's day with a smile. 

And your water bottles. I love that you're all so environmental. I love that you look down on plastic water vessels. I'm happy to buy you multiple new clean and green bottles. Sigg, swell, you name it, you have it. And don't worry if you lose my favourite bottle. I'm good with the old bpa ridden plastic ones. 

I also enjoy that you have so many hobbies. What with guitar and skiing and singing and tennis, you'll be the most well rounded kids in town. I enjoy shuttling you from place to place. Actually I do. Because while I loathe to drive, I love the time to hear you chat about your day. I honestly do. 

And then comes dinner.  Because I do virtually nothing all day while you're at school, I have plenty of time to meal prep. I'm happy to go to whole foods for your organic salmon and then run over to the Barns for that sauce you like so much. And then because I love you, I'll also stop at Shoprite for those mini ice creams you seem to adore.  Don't worry that they're three times the price of the normal stuff. 

  And I'll always have avocados on hand for a last minute guacamole.  I'll always stock your flour tortillas in case you fancy a cheese quesadilla or a fish taco.  One of you will only eat whole wheat bread and sadly the other only white. I vow to keep plenty of appropriate bread in the house at all times.  Because that's the kind of mom I am. 

And last but not least (i could go on all day) please be sure to always give me the stacks of school paper work as we are rushing to school in the morning. I don't mind filling out the contact information, emergency numbers, etc all while trying to scramble your eggs. Two ways.  

So my angels, I thank you for keeping me busy. Thank you for keeping me in yoga clothes.  I never liked dressing up anyway. And showering is for the weak. 

And most of all, Thank you for keeping me out of the workforce.  What would I do with a hefty pay check anyway?   Love you to the moon and back. 

Your mommy

Ps. My birthday is in 6 days and I want a Cartier watch and a vacation 

Lady of the house

I never aspired to be a wife. Certainly I wasn't one of those girls who had vivid dreams of a fancy wedding. I never contemplated a cathedral veil or a 12 piece orchestra. (Years later I'd be obsessed with these things)

 Never did I imagine a house with a white picket fence. Or any fence.  I wanted to live in an apartment in Nyc forever. 

 Kids weren't really on my radar. Sure, i found them cute. From afar. And babysitting certainly wasn't my bag. Hated it actually. Save for the homemade chocolate chip cookies the lady of the house made for me, I dreaded the job. I used to pray the kid would sleep. I died whenever I had to change a diaper. 

To avoid becoming a stay at home mom, I dated often. No way I was going to become a lame statistic. Friends were getting engaged and I dreaded each invite that arrived. A ruined Labor Day weekend. Another wedding over Fourth of July.  It was awful and I wasn't having any part of it. 

I lived and loved abroad.  A lot. I worked. I volunteered. And eventually I went back to school for my masters. I figured that when I did eventually have kids, at least if have a good degree. Perhaps that would make me more marketable post mat leave?

I worked my butt off all through mba and began to dream of my immenent six figure income. My mind was filled with holidays i would take.  Turkey, Morocco, India. Life would be glamourous.  Life would be grand. 

And then my boyfriend proposed. With an ice skating rink of a ring. I was shocked. I hardly knew what to say, so I went with "yes". And then for two years I questioned my decision. Who wanted to get married anyway. 

I graduated from school at the end of May and started my dream job right away.  A June 21 wedding followed.  

As I walked down that aisle in my cathedral length veil, I saw my dreams fade away.  And that 12 piece orchestra played on...

I felt the depression start to sink in and the ink hadn't yet dried

Now it's not that i didn't want to marry my husband. I just didn't want to marry him right then.   A few more years single would have worked for me. 

And as I predicted, my dreams started to evaporate.  Everyone around me was falling pregnant.  Talk of breast feeding, spoon feeding and diapers filled the air. With a bit of peer pressure and my quickly increasing age,  i decided a baby would be a welcome addition to my life as well. (I was 30)

Within 38 weeks I went from being "wife" to "mommy".  I was 31.  Gone was the girl who travelled everywhere. Gone was she who took courses whenever she could. Gone was the chick who ran to 6am hot yoga. Every. Single.  Day

And while I loved my daughter more than words could ever explain, I felt like I was losing me. I knew I was.  Gym classes. Swim classes. Music lessons. All for her. And she was 6 months old.  I shopped nonstop. For boots and skirts and dresses.  Again, only for her. 

As she grew more gorgeous i still looked pregnant. Or worse. 

My husband had began to workout feverishly.  He was addicted. To the gym. Certainly not to me. Or to what I'd become. Who had I become? More importantly, where did I go?

And his life carried on. All I carried was my baby and the groceries.  Every day. Every damn day. 

Actually his life did more than carry on. He flourished.  Each year or two he'd start a new job. Each job was better than the next.  He was climbing up the corporate ladder and I was ready to climb out the window.

From business meetings to work drinks and dinner, he was enjoying the good life. And I was living the housewife life...  Who would have thunk it?? 

 While I was and am so proud of his accomplishments it still saddens me not to have "work dinners" or drinks with friends from work. 

But today  my daughter is nearly ten. We've added an awesome animated boy to the mix.  He's loud and smart and handsome as hell.  These two kids rock my world. They also rule my world. And my days. And usually my nights too...

The youngest is 5 and I've yet to lose the baby weight. I cringe when someone asks if  I'm pregnant. 

 And we've recently moved countries and my husband started his biggest job yet. He's in charge of 400 people. 400 family's lives. Their well-being is in his hands. And he loves it. 

And me? I'm still left carrying groceries and often a kid. A very big kid. 

But I'm also buying  rain boots and sports bras.  Leggings and ice skates. Bike helmets and rollerblades. Uggs and umbrellas. 

Last week i was asked to buy deodorant.  And I cried.  But i digress. 

I've trolled the malls for back to school clothes. And backpacks.  And lunch bags.  That perfect first day outfit?!

But get this. Together with my girl, I've created a dinner menu for the month. We perused the food network and found tons of interesting meals she agreed to eat. I made a fabulous spread sheet. And to think I was kind of excited to use excel again?!  And a little shocked I still knew how. 

It's not all doom and gloom.  My biggest achievement lately is that my kids love to eat. Thai food, Indian, Mexican, sushi. They have wonderful palates and even better manners.  They make me proud at least 13 times a day. 

But I'd be lying if i said this is what I always wanted. My dream come true. A suburban housewife with hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of education in my pocket.  And no full time job in sight. No tailored suits and designer heels.  No nanny to watch the kids and clean up their mess. 

No. It's not what I wanted at all. Never. Ever. Not on any planet. But it's the life I've chosen. My path for now.  And truthfully I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.  

Breathe and drink water. Namaste

what it feels like to die

Not to be morose, but this week I'm learning what it feels like to die.  What's it's going to be like when I'm no longer here. No longer around. 

I'm not actually sick.  As a matter of fact, I'm feeling quite well. 

I haven't been given a terminal diagnosis or even a bad blood report.  Truthfully I've been eating nicely and working out a lot. 

But this week, I'm packing up my home of more than ten years and preparing for a move out of this country.  Leaving where I've lived for 14 years. 

It's a lot of work and I'm quite exhausted both mentally and physically.  There's a ton to do. Cancel NY times subscription.  Re-route our mail. Cancel gym memberships. Notify the doctors and the schools and the camps that we are moving this weekend.  Drivers license reports. Medical exams. Donation bins. Lots of stuff people need to accomplish before they move or die. 

But the worst part is the stuff I have to sort, and I have so much stuff.  Stuff I haven't touched in 10 years. From books to knitting needles, I'm packing up boxes with things I don't need.  Things I'll never need. Items I didn't require in the first place...

I did finally manage to finally donate all the clothes that currently don't fit me.  That would include my size 6 citizen jeans and all of my Theory suits.  Talk about depressing.  Like cleaning out the closet of a dead (and skinny) aunt. Awful. 

Most recently I've been disposing of things I don't want the movers to see.  Or touch.   Ever. 

I've been wrapping up things that are precious to me. The memories. The moments. My life. 

And then there was last night. A last minute impromptu "drink the house". A small gathering of close friends to come and drink our liquor and eat our pantry's remains.

Dare I say it felt like a shiva?

For my non Jewish friends, a family sits shiva after someone dies. It's a time to come together. To mourn. To celebrate. To eat yummy food. People cover the mirrors and sit on boxes. No one is comfortable as they discuss the departed.  Everyone reminisces. 

Last night at my home, we did just that. Old friends told stories. They ate tasty foods. We remembered what life was like when we moved here. There wasn't much music playing. Some were more upset than others. There were some tears. When everyone went home, I was left crying.

People joked that we should have told the new owners our friends came with the house. Our friends loved to party with us and we were alway keen to host.

But soon I'd be gone. No longer a fixture on my warm street. No longer the mom at the playground taking home gobs of kids. I wouldn't be a part of the book club I created. Someone else has taken over my business.  My favorite coffee shop will still be busy without my iced coffee orders daily.

I imagine people will miss me. They alway miss the departed. Friends will talk kindly about me. Hopefully. Just this morning i received a text saying that i'm a magical magnate with a unique ability to bring people together and get stuff for free... People keep telling me that TO will miss me.  

The memories will live on for a time, but people will move on. It's what people do. New friends will be made.  New furniture will fill my bedrooms and my living room.  Someone else's clothes will hang in my closet.

          New laughter will enter my home. And it won't be mine

I also noted what a big effort people made to say their goodbyes. Babysitters were hired. Food was brought over. One family bought us a complete and exquisite middle eastern Dinner. One friend made chicken wings. They were a hit. Someone wrote me a poem that I'll frame right away. Nearly everyone close to me managed to show up even briefly to say farewell.

But in life, it's hard not remember those who didn't come through. Those who opted to dine with other friends instead of hanging with us. It's okay. After all, we initially cancelled the evening and then rescheduled. But still i'll love them for always, as they've been here for me many times before.

         And so, without much work, I now know what it will feel like when I die. I know who loves me and I know exactly   what they think of me.  I'm not going to to lie, I'm a pretty lucky girl. The love is huge and real and and I can't wAit to see them all on the other side...(of the border)))

ROOTS>

Have you ever plucked a vibrant flower from the ground because you thought you'd enjoy it better somewhere else?  Like maybe in your new glass floral Tiffany vase?  Or even just in your hipster little mason jar that you bought at Whole Foods.

  Have you ever driven by someone else's fluffy white and blue hydrangeas and thought how  you'd just like to cut a few and take them for your own?  Or their lilac bush? How pretty the delicate purple flowers would look and smell in your living room.

 Don't lie, it happens to the best of us.  Often we're drawn to those blossoms and believe they'll fare better where we place them.

Or displace them.

And tonight, I feel like those said flowers.  Perhaps not so lovely that you'd want to snip me up and put me in your kitchen, but i feel pretty damn close.  It's summer.  Tomorrow is august.  The sun has been shining like mad in Toronto.  Lots of us are complaining because we're so darn hot.  We're sweating.  Our AC is pumping and we still can't keep cool  So we complain and dream about fall.  When we can wear our boots again.  And our jeans.  When will our kids will be back in school full time.

But then the cold will come and we'll complain.  It's what we do.  And we do it well.

 But i digress.

Earlier today i was feeling like those mistreated flowers.  But suddenly i'm thinking about the potatoes my son and i picked this past week.  Or the strawberries? Or maybe it's a sugar snap pea.  It's hard to decide.  We've done a lot of picking lately.  All of it legal and never from a friends garden.

We've made great use of the produce we've pulled from the ground.  From their roots.  We've made strawberry smoothies and gazpacho soup.  Today i made a fresh tomato sauce and then i added the sugar snap peas to my green salad.  I roasted a few of our potatoes, but surely the other 24 will go bad.

Because bad is often what happens when you pull stuff from their roots.  You think you'll find a better home for it, for them.  You think the fruit/flower/vegetable will be great for your family.  Taste delicious.  Look gorgeous.

But then, all too often, you take stuff from their roots and later find the need to compost the remains.

So i'm not a flower. I"m not a fruit.  And i'd hardly classify as a potato, so why wax on?

Why the long face?

I'm not so sure why, but I'm sad today.  I'm sad, because  in less than 2 weeks i'll be pulled from my home and displaced.

Yes, i know i've been begging for this for years.  Complaining that i'd fare better in a different place.  I promised I'd thrive closer to my old roots.  But as i think about it, i'm not so sure anymore.

After all, I've now called TO home for exactly 14 years.  14 adult years.

I only ever lived with my parents for 17 years and i hardly recall the first 4 or 5.  So, theoretically, I have more memories of life in TO than I do anywhere else.   Sure, I've lived in Spain and Argentina and those were grand times.  I've lived in CT, MO, NY,  VT and even CA.  I loved all of my time in those places, but lately, TO is feeling like home.

Both my kids were born here.  I completed my master's degree here.  I got engaged here.  Married.

I've started businesses in TO.  I've made countless wonderful friends.  Friends who mean the world to me.  A few of my favourite friends I can be happy with while doing so very little.  A grocery shop, Walmart, Target, Costco.  Nothing fancy, but the time is precious.

But let's not sugar coat it.  I've been sick in TO too.  Very sick.  I've had visits to specialists and hospitals.  Heck, I nearly died here.  And that wasn't good.  No, those weren't good days at all.

But now as i prepare to uproot and reroot, i feel anxious.  I know i'm going home, but what have i become?  What will i become?

I'm grateful for my time here and i'm pretty excited for our next adventure.  I just find it hard to leave the roots i've worked so hard to grow.

But like those flowers, potatoes and even sugar snap peas before me, I know i'm strong.  I'll be great someplace new.  Hopefully i'll blossom when I finally plant myself again.

Namaste Toronto.
xo

i'll wear purple

So tonight my five year old and i went out for dinner with my husband's 2nd cousin.  She's an awesome older lady, though i'm not quite sure exactly how old she is.  I do know that she's lived in her current house for 45 years.  She has four grown sons.  Many grandkids too.  One of her grandkids is even a lawyer. Most of all, I know she's amazing.  She's fabulous, but a spring chicken she is not.

I've always been drawn to cousin Martha.  Her warm smile, her loving heart, her wonderfully positive outlook on life.  Her generosity.  Even just tonight, after supper, we went back to chat at her place.  Right away, she gave my boy a huge Lindt chocolate bar and let him fill his pockets with hershey kisses.  He was smitten from the first kiss.

At dinner, as we shared our classic Greek salad and brown bread, we laughed and laughed.  Chatting with her was like chatting to a girlfriend.  A contemporary.  We talked about Argentina, France and what's going down in Greece.  We discussed family and friendships and everything in between.

Martha lost her husband many years ago, but never did lose herself.  Just looking at her, you know that she's a woman filled with vim. Her hair is perfectly kept.  I know for a fact that she gets it done  with John each friday before meeting a girlfriend for breakfast next door.  Her shellacked  nails were the most lovely shade of purple.  Perhaps you'd call it lilac?  The nails matched her gorgeous purple patterned sweater and it was wonderful.  Who knew a paint choice could be so important?

While we dined, people passed by and warmly greeted her.  I felt like i was sitting with the queen.  She laughed and disagreed when i told her she was like royalty.  Never would she consider herself a queen.  Or even a princess.

To me she's a superwoman and i wish we could have hung out forever.  

She told me about how her husband fell ill with Parkinsons many years earlier.  The best part of his illness was the male caregiver, Alex, they hired to help out.  Alex cried like a baby when her husband passed away.  Martha says he was like a brother to them.

Twenty four years later, Alex is still part of their family.  Till this day she holds him in the highest esteem because he cared for her David so lovingly.  As a recent gift, she sent Alex and his family home to the Philipines for the month.  Plane tickets and all.  Why?  Because she said he deserved it.  I think i saw a tear in her eye...

I was sad when we had to say our goodbyes, but we were getting tired.  But I left feeling enlightened and happy.  Warm and safe.  I drove home having a better understanding of who I am and what i want to be known as in my circle.

I went into my house feeling okay about the situation i'm in.  Just fine with the big fight i'm having with a friend.  As a matter of fact, now i feel totally at peace with the fact that i'm no longer talking to this said friend.  Why?  Because i wasn't impressed by how she treated people.  My cleaning lady.  My babysitter.  My son.  And me.  Unlike cousin Martha, she's not kind to others.

Perhaps one day she and I will make up, but it will never be the same.  Aunt Martha doesn't stand on ceremony with people she loves, but she only loves those who are worthy.  Life's too short and life's too long.  No time to be with the wrong people and not enough time to be with the right ones.

I'm excited about spending more hours with cousin Martha.  I think next time i'll wear purple too.
lots of love,
xo

Hashtag what?!?

So my five year old just responded to my question by screaming, “hashtag yes mom”
Seriously, hashtag??
What could he know about what used to be a number sign.
When did he start to learn about social media.
What was my world coming to and why does he constantly want an iPad in his hand.

I wonder if he’ll never learn to read.
I wonder if he’ll need glasses sooner than later.
I wonder if he’ll ever be able to engage in social conversation.

Devices devices everywhere.
Apple owns my children’s hearts.
Perhaps a bit of mine too.

Gone are the days where kids roamed the streets until dinner time.
Gone are the days when we had to stand in the kitchen to make a call.
Or wonder who might be phoning?
Gone are the days of letter writing. (except for me and a select few who adore paper and pens)
and gone are the days where kids actually looked up. Ever.
Surely scoliosis is on the rise.
Chiropractors everywhere must be buying second and third homes.

I revel in the moments when my kids want to build crazy forts.
Even outside.
Even when they’re using my Pratesi sheets…

I love when my girl sings and plays guitar.
I love when they sing karaoke.  I love when they cook.

I beam when they rollerblade all day.
I’m the mom who lets them skate through the house.
Damn those  hardwood floors from 1929.

And i hope to keep my kids as wholesome as i can.
It won’t be easy.
The other day my 9 year old daughter said the F word.
Out loud.
She told me she was just repeating what she read.
On the wall of her school’s girl’s bathroom.
Written by a friend.  About a friend.
Bullying sucks.
And in a world full of hashtags and social media blitzes, i’m scared.
and aware.

i can’t keep my kids away of issues in this world.
They know about the escape convicts in NY.
They know about plane crashes.
They know sometimes men marry men and women marry women.
They know about the unfortunate nature of divorce.
They know about racial tension-.
My five year old prince just stated, “mom, a lot of kids with brown skin are short, right”.
Um, not actually boy.
But through truth we’ll have justice.
And with an open word, i’m hoping to create kind and loving, opinionated, yet accepting creatures.
#noonetoldmeitwouldbesohard

#popitlikeaxanax