Tag Archives: Family

Birthday Party Hell

My Wee One is 3 years old and she received her first birthday party invite (from a family member). My first reaction was, “NO WAY!” It requires a three-hour drive into the Bay State, spending a lovely Spring afternoon inside a VFW-type building and imposing upon my wonderful in-laws for room and board. But I think the overriding thought about my most uncharitable feeling toward this invite is the thought of time with all those children.

My feeling about Toddler Birthday Parties

My feeling about Toddler Birthday Parties

I’m one of those mothers who loves my child but I’m not one to love other people’s children. When my daughter was a baby, mothers came up to me in restaurants, cooed over my child and asked,

“How old is she?”

“Is she sleeping through the night?”

I politely answered their questions. Because it seemed pro-forma, I politely asked about their kids but I would forget their answers within seconds.

Yes, I know I’m exposing myself to all sorts of negative commentary but I’m writing what I’m feeling. I just need to get it out.

Well, to end this diatribe, I have decided to take the Wee One to her first birthday party because I know she’s going to have a blast and I’m going to have a great time with family.

Rant mode: OFF.



Last night Charlotte let me sleep for nearly 5 hours. I know, I know…I won’t get used it!

There's nothing like a sleeping baby.

Happy Thanksgiving

Hubby and I will be heading down to my folks in Dartmouth, MA for the holiday. Traditionally we eat at 11 am and by 12 pm, the dishes are cleaned and put away. (No joke!) This year my step-dad is working so we’ll eat at 4:30 pm and have the dishes cleaned and put away by 5:30 pm. Gotta LOVE family!!!


Audit tshirtI know a family who have eleven kids. Two of the kids are out of the house and one is in college. Their youngest is just over a year old. Granted, in today’s culture, having eleven kids makes most folks eye’s bug out and…federal agencies…

Today, the husband had to take the day off from work because the IRS was auditing him. The reason? One person could not have THAT many children to claim as a deduction. He had to bring birth certificates and other documents as proof.

What a waste of taxpayer money, a loss to the employer in missed work and one less holiday/personal day for the husband. Have other people experienced this? I don’t think Tim Geithner had to…

Action, Not Words

On Sunday, Hubby and I attended a cookout at his Uncle Blair’s house. (He’s really Hubby’s Mom’s uncle but everyone just calls him Uncle Blair.) His home is a converted boathouse situated along the edge of the Charles River. Do you know where Route 128 and Mass Pike converge and the Marriott Hotel oversees the whole highway madness? The house is not far from there. Standing on the river bank I saw ducks, geese, blue herrons and one water snake. Route 128 is bearly visible through the foliage. The dull roar of speeding automobiles sounds blessedly like wind. Being a holiday weekend, dozens of canoes, kayaks and party boats made their way up and down the serene waters.

Though the whole scene was bucolic, it paled in comparison to something else I witnessed. Uncle Blair is 92 and recently survived a stay in the hospital. I won’t go into the details but for a man who went through what he did, at his age, he looked great. His body may be slow, but Uncle Blair’s mind is as fast as ever. When asked how’s he feeling, he replies,

“With my hands.”

His siblings have passed except for his beloved spouse. Her health isn’t as robust as Uncle Blair’s and her mind wanders. Yet Uncle Blair is always at her side. I watched a man tenderly feed his wife and sit with her in the shade all the while surrounded by children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. When we were ready to leave, Hubby went inside the boathouse to say goodbye. He found Uncle Blair asleep on his recliner, a vintage Bruins game flickering on the t.v. Next to Uncle Blair was his wife, also sound asleep. Tim didn’t want to wake him, but noticed when he was leaving the living room Uncle Blair open his eyes, look at his wife, and fall back to sleep.

Something Fierce

My mother has an aunt, though she’s not really an aunt. She is related but not in an “aunt” sort of way. Know what I mean? This “aunt” is 101 years old and since the “aunt” hit 95, my mother has attended the “aunt’s” birthday parties which are held at her church and usually there’s a barbershop quartet.

All that is besides the point. (I just think it’s neat that a barbershop quartet performs at the parties.) Anyway, I once asked my mom if the “aunt” was ever married.

“Oh sure…twice.”

“Does she have kids?”

“No. She once told me that she would never be any ‘man’s incubator’.”

I thought, “Is she fiercely independent or fiercely self-centered?” What do you think?

USA #1

Last week I ran into a cousin who I haven’t seen in a few years. He’s a lovely man with a heart of gold who works as a DJ at a strip club. I may not agree with his place of employment but I’ll never forget what he did in the early ’90’s.

Cousin was in the National Guard who served in the first Gulf War. After his return from the Middle East, my cousin was full of patriotic vigor. Around this time, my Cousin, Augusta Bro and a friend decided to drive to Montreal for the weekend (a very do-able 6 hour drive from southeastern Massachusetts). My cousin helpfully volunteered to drive. I remember he drove up my parent’s driveway to pick up Augusta Bro. I don’t remember the car exactly…some Detroit boat of a car. But I do remember that my cousin had written in white house paint on the hood and sides of the car,

“USA #1!”

I laughed my a$$ off picturing the looks on the Quebecois as this example of exuberant American patriotism passed by.