mothers on the verge

I have discovered a speedy route to Heaven. No, I haven't been in secret conference with The Man Upstairs. Quite simply, I have found the best bribe ever. Picture this. I am at home on Friday morning, trying to work while all hell is breaking loose around me. The Small(er) One is bellowing for me to take her for a wee while Firstborn is literally hanging off my leg in despair because she can't find her pink Dora The Explorer knickers. The phone is ringing and I can't find it. Some fool buzzes the intercom repeatedly, refusing to accept that I am not his mate Ahmed. Then Alpha Male calls to ask exactly why I spent £75 at Boots earlier that week and do I not realise the critical state of our overdraft? Just as I am about to break into a million mental mommy pieces, screaming that I can not bear another second of this level of harassment from both family and non-family members before locking myself in the bathroom for an extended period of sulking, I remember that I have my v

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I don't understand how a cold in the summer months can feel 80 times worse than one in the winter. I know having a little one automatically enters you into the cold-of-the-month club, but truly I am exhausted from having to keep Kleenex and Sudafed stocked in the cupboard. I had thrown away the bottles of Purell after all the warnings came out on how dangerous antibacterial soaps and gels are (something about killing the good bacteria -- the ones that eat the bad guys.) I still wash my hands and The Rabbits hands religiously. But I swear I am thinking of breaking out a box of those mouth covers -- you know -- the ones you see doctors wear in operating rooms, or those people on the street, the ones you back away from slowly because you don't want them to launch into a tirade about your leather bag, or stroller or whatever has stuck on their insanity radar for the day. Just like those people.

I've been back from holiday for a couple of weeks now but have been trying hard to ignore the fact. I've been an ostrich, sticking my head in the London sand and pretending that I am still in that lovely holiday doze zone. Sadly, I now have to emerge and blink in the harsh light of reality. Yup, I'm back in London. Yup, back to work and no more lazy days with the girls running around and not giving a stuff about the mountaineous pile of laundry/ washing up/ whatever. No more getting up late to a pile of croissants and no pressing deadlines. I'm getting used to that knot of mild panic twisting ominously in my gut again, always somewhere in the background, always nagging away as I race from place to place, always about to be five minutes late and not sure how I'm going to fit everything in to one short day. Still, I guess if I was in holiday mode the whole time there wouldn't be much to look forward to. But then again, can you ever get too much of a good thing? P

In for my second round with Gotham, with 13 years and counting, I feel like I may be slightly qualified to write about this point: The costume of attitude, and of course clothes, that we New Yorkers don to stress our exalted status in the cosmos. Like me, Susan Sawyers, a great blogger on The Huffington Post, has recently made the flip from Cali to Gotham , and wrote about her experience for the past nine months. And I have to say, we Manhattanites did not fare so badly, but not so well. But even those of us who aren't exactly native, but aren't exactly newbies, still feel the sting, and often, when we step out of line. Like the woman with the Parents League, who after I called to find out nursery school options for The Rabbit, informed me I had missed all the deadlines for any "good" school and asked, "What were you thinking?" In my stressed out state, having spent the past 4 months buying our new place in the Lower East Side, I told her, "Moving."

Readers will remember that MOTV took a hit out on these harshly colored, plastic tupperware containers masquerading as shoes awhile back. But now I just heard that a close friend of The Rabbit's had his arm broken by slipping while wearing Crocs are on the playground. In June. Leaving the 5-year-old stuck during the summer unable to swim, play on monkey bars, ride a bike, scoot around on his scooter.... So...not only are they fugly, they're can suck the fun out of playtime as well? Sure. Sign me right up.

Can't tell you how wonderful our vacation was. Not the least of which was because .... WE WERE OUT OF GOTHAM. Now for a Manhattan Mama to complain of her home turf may sound odd, but given the Rabbit's horrible school year, work stress, life stress, I so needed out of here. And so last month, we packed three bags, sold the fish, donated the plants and took off for my home state for nearly one month. A vacation, yes. But more like a detoxifying immersion into all things West Coast. I know, I know. California rots the brain. California is so behind. California is, well, California! But I am not ashamed to say: Love it. I love the oleander that grows along the freeway, the eucalyptus leaves that perfume the night air, the gleam of a coyote's eyes as it skitters down the street after midnight. I miss the ocean. God I miss the ocean. Not the packed, picnicking families, coconut oil choking beach ocean. No....the jagged cliffs, the swirl of pink and orange as the sun dies slowly

A recent row with, who I thought was, a friend has made me think over the last few days about how much I appreciate the friends I do have in my life. Truthfully, most of my closest friends do not even live near me -- not even in the same city. But somehow there's that feeling that I can pick up the phone and just call at any time -- and we're still connecting the same way, even if we can just grab 6 minutes on a ride home from work, or on the way to pick up our rabbits, or late at night, in different time zones, whispering so that babies do not wake. Yes, I miss having a girlfriend near by who I can just grab coffee with, or go shopping -- but let's get real: Like I even have that kind of time any more. I also appreciate those friends who didn't feel I had personally abandoned them when the Rabbit appeared. One of my best friends, who has no children of her own, would never dream of not including my daughter in our plans when I make it into DC to see her on my few, and

Just returned from a three week vacation from New York, my regular life, and still feel like hibernating...will give the highlights soon....