mothers on the verge

So I'm supposed to believe that the reason that the Rabbit and I are having to elbow our way into a decent school for her next year is because the Riches are having babies and not moving to the suburbs. I don't know how many problems I find with this New York Times story -- one because I am not apparently rich enough to be rich according to the piece (does this really shock me?) and also because ... well....maybe I am being stupid in not fleeing for the suburbs either. Growing up in Los Angeles proper makes me a half-city, half-suburb kidlet myself. The Rabbit is clearly 100 percent urban. I wouldn't mind a little in between for her -- but suburbs of New York? Frankly, all those woods and big houses and Land Rovers freak me out. Anyway, an interesting story for those who live in a city. The rest of you can just pat yourself on the back and feel superior to the rest of us....

A friend just sent the most insightful article from the Columbia Journalism Review on women, mothers and careers that I have ever read. The point? That readers are being fed a myth on mamas "choosing" to leave their careers. Right, like my friend who chose to leave her job after her boss told her she had to spend evenings and mornings with sources in addition to her regular hours... Anyway, it's a great read. Your thoughts?

The Rabbit has turned critic. On Friday afternoon, amid a slush and sleet storm, The Rabbit informed me she did not want to go to ballet class. Since I don't have any fantasies that she will perform in Swan Lake -- nor did I relish the idea of venturing out into the black and (worse) yellow crud on the sidewalks, I was fine with the idea of staying in. What do you want to do? "WATCH movies!" So I rented Brother Bear 2 (Oh, keep your comments to yourself) and settled in with her, snuggling, eating apples and watching the movie. After? She wanted to draw pictures for "daddy" with her new markers. Daddy came home for dinner. He asked what we did. "Nothing." I prodded her gently, reminding her what a nice afternoon we had. She said, "But we didn't play." I again reminded her that we did exactly EVERYTHING she had asked to do. A "Rabbit afternoon." She said, "Mama, drawing is sitting. Watching TV is sitting. Watching TV is NOT p

With school, ballet class, a weekly playgroup and to playdates, The Rabbit has a richer social calendar than mine: which consists of waving to some moms at pick-up in the afternoon and The Prince. Today I am sitting thinking, Gee, a beautiful day, I should play some hooky and call a friend. Screetch of brakes: My best friend lives in Washington, DC. A good friend in NY is at some Ashram in India for the month (Yes, she's childless...). YLM is in LONDON!!?!! The rest are not (sigh) around. I have never been a social butterfly. I actually think that sitting alone with a great book and a cup of coffee is a GLORIOUS way to spend my time. Throw in a garden and that's what I hope heaven looks like...well as long as I get to see The Rabbit and The Prince some times. But now I suspect that all this energy into The Rabbit's social calendar may have been a little misfed. Or maybe it's just that spring is here and I've come out of my winter hibernation.

Jell-O Chocolate Fudge Pudding Snacks: 140 calories 3.5g Total Fat 20g sugar 2g protein Yo-Baby Stonyfield Yogurt Vanilla: 120 calories 4g Total Fat 16g sugar 4 g protein

A great blog entry on The Wall Street Journal site today --- I am not advocating one or the other, although most know that I am a proud mama of The Rabbit, sans sibs. But this is a topic that has clearly touched not only MY nerve. Good to know I'm not the only one out there foaming at the mouth....

It's warm, the trees are beginning to bud, coats thrown aside....yes, you guessed it. the (S)mothers have returned. I knew the lag was too good to be true. So now they've come back -- actually new (s)mothers. I am slowly starting to suspect that (s)mothers may actually be some alien leech that chews its way into a normal mother and then presto --(S)motherville. Although I just think these women were born this way. This week? Oh yes, playgroups again. This time for the summer months. And who has been excluded? Truthfully, this time I feel, me. From a mom I helped get into THIS playgroup, which as you'll recall, the Rabbit was excluded from the first go around. I am starting to feel that living in Gotham means you have to be a narcissistic praying mantis. Those of us who actually try and do nice things only get trampled on. Sure we'll come to your house and eat your food. Sure we'll take part in your kid's next birthday party. Sure we'll leech on to your phot