My body has betrayed me. It’s not that I’m so old (although my kids think I am a dinosaur) but I am clearly at that age where things don’t work the way they used to. The sad part is that my brain knows exactly what it wants my body to do, but there’s glitch in the wiring and something’s not working right. So early this morning, in my warm bed listening to the thunder, rain and lightening, I debated in my head, “Do I stay or do I go…I want gelato, I want a cheeseburger, okay I’ll go…” and rolled out of bed to get to my spin class.  I’m a relatively new spinner because I have a relatively new …

A recent physical for my daughter uncovered the shocking fact that she was no longer my little girl.  Quite the contrary, because she now stands within an inch of me, and her shoe size might just be a bit bigger.  I asked if someone could please show me to the room that MY daughter was in and my sweet, not-so-little girl groaned at my feeble attempt at pediatric humor. I so don’t get it…right? What this sudden growth spurt really means is that it’s open hunting season in my closet (and my sister’s, for that matter) and I don’t like it very much.  From shirts to boots to underwear…nothing is …

When I was in fourth grade, I had a horrible fever.  I missed almost a month of school, and my mother will tell you it took months off her life.  Day after day we took my temperature and called the doctor; day after day he ran blood tests, asked questions and begged my mother to calm down and wait it out.  As it turns out, it was just a fever that wouldn’t go away, but during that month, when I got sick of watching “The Dating Game,” and “Love, American Style” my mother would read to me.  I was too sick to do anything else.  The book she chose was To Kill a Mockingbird.  My mother, a former …

Let me be perfectly clear; I did NOT want the long board purchased at all.  I expressed a typical Mother concern; you’ll wipe out, you’ll miss a curb, you’ll run into someone.  Stitches (been there), head injury (done that) broken bone (I have a running family account at Illinois Bone and Joint). But who am I? My son was turning 20 and apparently long boards (imagine a skate board on steroids) are all the rage on college campuses.  As I see it, it’s another scam created by orthopedic surgeons drooling at the prospect of setting bones and casting body parts.  Do I sound bitter?  Maybe. Then …

I hate getting lost.  It’s completely unnerving.  I am a bit obsessed about knowing exactly where I am going and how exactly I’ll get there.  So it was last weekend that I journeyed to New York alone, trying not to get lost.  Actually, I worked very hard at not getting lost and the harder I tried, the more frustrated I became.  I was consumed with arming myself with every directional aid possible; subway maps, a city map, a cross-town bus map, an app with a map…all to no avail.  I was stuck; I was agitated. And so the question remains…why am I afraid of getting lost? It’s not like I’m the …

Forgive me if I am struck dumb by the fact that you are on your phone while at the same time trying to place your deli order at Sunset Foods, explaining to your girlfriend why the scabs on your feet are NOT clearing up with the antibacterial tea tree oil your herbalist from the Ashram sent you via FedEx.  I’m so sorry if I’m emitting horrifying gasps of disbelief while you discuss your most recent trip to the gastroenterologist and why the Miralax mixed with Crystal Light gave you less cramping but made you more gassy towards the end (no pun intended).  Did I hurt your feelings when I stood …

A news flash recently came in the form of a text from my middle son (the family therapist), answering my question about his ability to get home and feed his younger sister dinner because I wanted to go out with friends.  “She’s going to high school, Mom," he wrote. "She can FEED HERSELF.”  Apparently I was the one being served…a heaping plateful of reality, with a side of brutal truth — fat free, of course. Well, my son is right, and he’s not the first one to let me know loud and clear that I am in a state of transition more overwhelming than my growing girth with each pregnancy and more …

Girl Drama is all that.  For those of you lucky enough to have seen the film Mean Girls, you know what I’m talking about (And for those of you who need to see it, get a move on)  I have not exhausted the subject of girl drama because whether you're 14 or 48, that business will age you faster than a lifetime of sun worship and cigarettes.  Junior high could be it’s own theme park.  Just think of the wonderful rides…Adolescent Anger, The Crying Game, The House of Haunted Hormones, Same Clothes Castle (where everyone is in yoga pants and Uggs…) and Snow White and her 7 Cronies…imagine the fun …

I am a bona fide, sanitary wipe-waving, antibacterial spray-dousing, touch-that-door-handle-with-the-paper-towel-only germ-a-phobe.  Beyond any reasonable doubt, I am certifiably crazy.  I am writing this with my pinkies as I sit on an airplane—the world’s largest breeding ground for both airborne AND hand-to-mouth bacteria and I am very busy swiping my tray with my handy package of Clorox wipes.  I love Clorox wipes. I don’t think I was always this way.  I grew up like the rest of you, maybe not always putting paper on the seat or washing my hands afterwards and chewing on dirty fingernails …

  Twas the night before New Year’s, And in my wee little heart Resolutions were forming… I could feel them start.   The champagne was chilled The caviar too, To ring in the New Year With friends good and true.   But nagging inside My overworked brain Were years of resolutions Attempted in vain   No more sugar or chocolate or decadent treats, More running, less coffee, I would try to stay neat! I would not snack before I served meals, And I would refrain from Zappos… No matter the deals!   Resisting the urge to succumb to road rage, And dressing in clothes that match my age… Attempting to …

I have graduated from the College of Parenting, with a degree in Mothering, Smothering and Affection Mama Cum Laude.   I am proud of this degree and I know my brilliance is a fact, because the Journal of Behavioral Neuroscience (October, 2010) says so.  And I know this because I keep back copies of that periodical in my car so I can catch up on light reading while waiting for my youngest to emerge from school after a strenuous afternoon of cheerleading. What has become perfectly clear is that my final bout with postpartum tantrums and tirades almost 14 years ago left me stronger, faster and …

Friendships are a journey. We become intensely aware of their significance and worth as we get older.  Watching my kids this past weekend and relishing in their happy reunions with friends from high school and college was an amazing thing to see.  I know that it wasn’t always an easy path and getting to this stage in their lives took a lot of patience and growth; but I love who their friends are and I love how their friendships seem to take on greater meaning with each passing year. As younger children, our kids start out simply befriending the children of our friends. At some point they move…

Ahhh… the art of the apology.  It’s just not what it used to be. We live in the age of public apologies, and it seems that there is growing emphasis on the actual act--and not the meaning of the words behind it. Reed Hastings, the woeful CEO of Netflix, is the latest public figure to acknowledge a business blunder and Robert Dudley, Chief Executive of BP is still running ads saying how sorry his company is for, well, destroying the Gulf Coast.  While they are far from the morally reprehensible acts of say, Tiger, Bill, Eliot or even my fallen hero, David Letterman, they all rushed to the …

Homecoming is undoubtedly one of the biggest highlights of the school year for Glenbrook North.  The floats, the parade, football games, assembly and of course, the dance all bring the student body and the community together to celebrate GBN. There is nothing like crossing the field to the stadium on a crisp fall evening, decked out in green and gold.  It’s cold enough to see your breath and it smells like fall. I love the distant sounds of the drum line warming up and I love the sound of the fight song echoing across the grass. Having attended many homecoming football games, both as a …

I don’t care if you’re the parents of toddlers or teens…this job is exhausting.  It’s the daily grind of getting up, feeding, driving, wiping, cleaning, making lunches, listening, wiping again and finally falling into bed so tired it hurts.  It’s laying on the bathroom floor with them, washing cuts that you know need some sort of medical attention that you’re too tired to deal with and examining the inside of a Kleenex that’s been freshly blown into—you know, because there’s difference if it’s green or yellow. I think I’m getting tired writing this. There’s definitely a difference however, in…

It was an impressive night for Glenbrook North. Full disclosure: I am a Spartan.  Born and bred and came back here to offer my children the same outstanding experience—so I am definitely biased.  But having had one child who is already an alum and another who is an upperclassman, I feel qualified to shed some personal insight on the Parent Night held last week at GBN. “Night in the Classroom” is Glenbrook North’s curriculum night, held once each semester.  It’s an informal and educational evening where the parent community can visit each classroom, meet the teachers and review the syllabus.  …

If you question the outfit, then the outfit is questionable. Those are my words to my teenage daughter on a daily basis. Abercrombie and Fitch isn’t helping the matter either.  The last time I checked, shorts were a shorter version of jeans. The word “denim underpants” isn’t in my vernacular, so can someone please explain to me what’s up with the style of wearing denim underpants? Because really, that’s exactly what they are—and it’s not exactly a “look” that I am currently digging right now.  Spoiler alert: if you love watching your daughter dress up in as little as possible to parade around…

Entitlement is the new black.  How often do you hear a teen say something that makes you wince just a little bit because it sounds so wrong?  How often do you wonder if you’re giving your kids too much because you can?  There’s no doubt I do…and I think about the repercussions of doing that a lot these days.  When did our kids get so entitled?  It seems that the assumption today is that young teens have it coming and that they deserve it, too. ‘Stuff’ like iPhones, laptops, cars, iPads, Uggs and spring break with your buddies senior year is just the beginning. We are all guilty of giving a …

Another school year brings homecoming, concerts, assemblies and football games. It also brings tough choices for our kids. Is it OK to drink a beer if everyone else at the party is doing it? What if someone’s parents supply the booze? What if they turn a blind eye when you bring it in the house?  I love my kids fiercely but I don’t want to be their friend.  Don’t get me wrong, I love being with them more than anything, but there’s no mistaking my interest in their lives and their friends as anything other than maternal concern.  When parents try to befriend their child, the lines get blurry …

A little over a month ago, my 13-year-old daughter and I had a chance to travel alone together, and planned to watch a movie on the plane. After reviewing our options (Miley Cyrus movies, Zac Efron films, “old” Hilary Duff films and anything by Disney) I suggested that we rent The Breakfast Club. For those of you ‘growing up in Northbrook – again’ you’ll remember when GBN alum John Hughes came to Northbrook to film that incredible classic.  Any graduate of Glenbrook North before 1985 will fondly tell stories of the real Breakfast Club…the all day Saturday detention for doing something really …