Thursday, September 05, 2013

Tattoo 140


After listening carefully to a grown-up conversation about tattoos, our girl added to the conversation:

"If I got a tattoo, it would be "12 x 12 = 140",  so I could remember that one. " 

I smiled all the way to my toes but didn't laugh out-loud until later (I didn't want her to feel silly) and gently told her it was 144 not 140.  

Though her thoughts weren't perfectly formed, in her childish way, she saw the true meaning of our conversation:  tattoos are reminders.  

Hopefully they are beautiful reminders.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Under the Bridge: a Selfie Adventure

While in NYC I have the days to explore by myself, while my husband works. Left to my own devices, I've discovered that I think I'm invincible. This is the reason I'm blogging from NYC and not after, to recover. I'm staying in this morning to rest and stay warm. Yesterday I ran around the city to stay warm (9 degrees) and explore. Now, I'm beat.

Yesterday I rode the train to Roosevelt Island. It's an island in the East river, under the 59th St. bridge. It used to be a prison, housing gangsters and the criminal Mae West. Then it was a hospital for the insane and contagious. Now, the hospital bits which have survived are a nursing school and specialty hospital (that sounds suspicios).

The island also is a master planned community. My observation is it's like Communist era Poland, meets NYC. I also saw the filming crew from Person Of Interest. Here are my photos, incase you never make it there yourself. I was so cold my fingers hardly worked for my phone camera!











Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Freaked Out Mom

Photo by P.R. Frank
Though we are 1/2 done having our children growing in our house, we are taking a parenting class.  I always can learn to do better, and in turn, find I'm more comfortable in my skin.

Parenting in general freaks me out.  I want to be my best for my kids.  Despite my best efforts, my kids will turn out.  I like to remind myself that, and go to a parenting class.

Last week, as we were talking about the class, our daughter overheard us.  She had an opinion about our parenting.

"Guys, I know you are good parents.  Wanna know how I know you are good parents?".......
yes..... 
"I spend a lot of time in my room."

We laughed too hard together.  It's true.  She does spend a lot of time in her room getting a grip, and letting me catch my breath.  In a calm moment, she was thankful and it was funny.  It won't be funny next time I have to send her to her room, but it helped me not take myself so seriously.