mothers on the verge

When The Prince and I were dating we took one of those personality tests. You know. The ones where you're assigned a series of letters that attempt to clarify your uniqueness. Anyway...so when we went back to see our results, this guy had put some numbers on the floor. I was told to stand at one end, and The Prince at the other. This was the gap in our way of handling situations. Basically, I'm close to an atomic stress ball and he's a Zen master. How does that work in our life? Welcome to our holidays: I have 15 lists, in different colors, in a spiral bound notebook. The Prince has a six-pack in the fridge.

This morning I got out the cookie recipes. I collect cookies recipes. I love cookies. And every year I try out at least one new recipe for our party to see if I can add to the mix. Usually it's a dud-a-thon. Like the key limes cookies that never harden and turned into panier-like lace things the size of my head. And the sandwich cookies with filling that never hardened and dripped on everything. On my satin skirt for example. Or my favorite: a Martha Stewart recipe that promised disks of candy-colored crisp. And required so much food coloring I felt I was eating a cleaning product. The Rabbit and I sat as she ate breakfast deciding which 5 batches I should make -- never more than 5 different kinds. I've tried six. And The Prince didn't speak to me for a day after leaving me at 3 am crying into the flour.....He keeps tally now. She hates meringues (so cute though...!) so those were out. Ditto to anything with nuts since we have too many friends now with kids who are allergic

So I have a new formula: Don't get stressed. It works like this: Morning comes. Pull covers over head. Stay there until it's bed time. No but seriously folks. Actually yesterday went fairly well. I know that many people measure their holidays by parties they attend, cards they receive, time spent baking cookies with their children. I measure it by how many times I start to lose it with The Prince. Just once last night for me, so I feel I'm doing very well. (I am sure he would disagree). It came because, as I mentioned before, we're having 32 thousand people in our house for an open house a week from Saturday. There is booze to buy, snacks to buy, cookies to bake, a house to clean, decorate -- actually all very fun things in my book. When I have help. The Rabbit has actually grown enough to be a help -- she's amazing at napkin placing. Seriously. So last night I started to talk to The Prince about things we might want to nab this weekend to get a jump (since, hey, we

It's not even December yet and already my family looniness has started in preparation for the event The Prince fondly refers to as "Oh God. Is it THAT time of year again?" Ah yes. The time of year when I start to make my own New Year's cards (100 of them), plan a holiday party, a birthday party (22 kids this time. Yes, I am off my meds), cupcakes for the said birthday at school, (homemade -- nut allergies prevent bakery cupcakes from being picked up), packages to be mailed to DC, packages to be mailed to LA, packages to be packed, and then if I have time an attempt to stand and gaze at the tree at Rockefeller Center with a hot cocoa. Which never fails to turn into a shoving match with tourists wearing cameras the size of their heads (wasn't the digital revolution supposed to make everything SMALLER!!?) and hot cocoa all over my coat. Every time. And did I forget that I do work? The Prince and The Rabbit have come down with a combined cough/laryngitis/runny nose/he

So this daily act of kindness stuff is way WAY harder than I ever thought. I never factored in all the people who frankly irritate me so much I forget I am supposed to be nice to them. However -- I think I've definitely been smiling a little more. Whether I mean it or not. And I am sincerely aware of how crazily irritating I've been sounding complaining as much as I have been. If I complain to every one I know, what on earth am I going to write in the blog? So let's see....I did very much try to be nice to the woman at the Rite Aid who rang me up, until she snatched the box of toothpaste out of my hand as I was putting it in my OWN BAG which I brought to SAVE the plastic ones telling me, "Not until your card goes through. Not until your CARD. GOES. THROUGH." Right, because I didn't hear you the first time, and you caught me slyly trying to steal that box of Crest ProHealth on sale for $3.99. Oh yeah, and that box of lemon lime Tic-Tacs. (love those.) I think I

I am aware that only recently I waxed lyrical about the fun and games to be had on the school run. I have now changed my mind. Things that drove me crazy this morning: Chronic exhaustion due to the Small(er) One waking up all night with a series of increasingly ridiculous demands The Small(er) One spilling her breakfast all over her uniform and screaming when I tried to change her, then screaming when she decided that soggy cornflakes on her lap was too much to bear and that she wanted to be changed after all The Small(er) One sitting in the hallway for ten minutes, refusing to go to school because she didn't like the pattern on her socks Firstborn being attacked by the Small(er) One bacause she was wearing 'her' scarf Getting outside the flat, finally, only to discover that it was pouring with rain. My suede coat and shoes are unlikely to look the same ever again The Small(er) One shouting "I hate you mummy, you smell of wee" at the top of her voice and blowing r

11:23 pm in Gotham. The Prince came home from a late night at work. He's eating some left-overs and invites me to watch TV with him: A Premier League Game from 1996. (Yes, that's soccer. Although this was a game in England and so that would be football.) It's a game from 11 years ago. 11 years ago. And he shushed me so he could hear the score.

Sent to me from a similarly plagued mother. Apparently sent from one class parent at a elementary school to the teachers regarding the organizing of the Thanksgiving Day Feast at their school. (No, not from The Rabbit's school. Actually from a school in a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT STATE. Honestly.) Names have been changed to protect the innocent. "What I Will Be Thankful For..." ..is when this holiday - or the school version, anyway - is over. First of all - I love you all. And none of this is about you - you are awesome, terrific, wonderful.... you get the point. But I'm seriously hating this Thanksgiving arrangement. Case in point, I see or speak to Jane Doe (the other Kindergarten class parent) multiple times a day. But at this point, even we are sick of each other as we have spent the entire weekend in room parent hell trying to help the main class parent coordinate all the party room moms (some of whom apparently don't get along???) across 4 classes, just to pla

Tonight I am getting dressed for dinner. It's the 8th anniversary of the day The Prince and I got married. And I know it sounds like a bore, but I can't find anything to wear. I have always had a body image problem. Always. Even when I weighed practically nothing. And I don't anymore. And so I sit here and see the pear shape at the back, and the arms soft, and my stomach not allowing my skirt to sit on my hips where I want it to sit. And I just don't feel like me. And that's not the worst part. The worst part is I am raising a daughter. A beautiful, proportioned daughter who hears her mother get angrier and angrier because she can't find anything to wear. Now, I'm not stupid enough to use the word 'fat' around her. But it doesn't matter. She's bright enough to see what's going on with me. That I hate my body. Because it doesn't look the way I want it to. No. Because it doesn't feel the way I want it to. I miss my toned arms. I mis

Seems I'm not the only one speculating on how we can toss the glum and find some more cheer as told by Times hack Eduardo Porter.

Away for the weekend for the Prince's grandmother's memorial and home today with a sick Rabbit. I wanted to give my updates on how I'm progressing with my plan to start seeding some kindness around me that I announced a few days ago. I thought I would give daily updates, but as I started to type them I realized they read like some "Oooo look. I'm doing good" list which frankly made me gag. So let's just say that over the last 3 days I'm 2 for 3. I actually have noticed something different already -- I feel way more attuned to the kindness given to me. A thoughtful voice mail message, for example, left at a moment when I really needed to hear from a friend. Kismet. Kindness. The same thing in that it's helping. So enough of the Stuart Smalley stuff. And back to our regular programming.

Firstborn: " Mummymummymummy !" Me (engrossed in Hello! magazine): " Hmmm ?" Firstborn: " Mummymummymummy !!" Me, (putting the gossip-rag down): "Yes, darling?" Firstborn: "Look at me!" I watch fondly as Firstborn leaps in the air, whirls around and generally prances. "Lovely!" I exclaim. I am about to dive back into a fascinating article on the gracious life of a minor royal when Firstborn stops in front of my prone form and prods me. "Mummy," she says. "Do you think I'm sexy?" The room freezes. My brain scrabbles desperately for secure ground. I gulp. " What did you just say?" Firstborn beams at me while executing a perfect pirouette . "I said," she announces, "do you think I'm sexy?" I am lost for words. I open my mouth and all that comes out is something that sounds like "phnurgle". "Because," Firstborn explain, "I am really good at gymnasti

Man, Just one night in and I already blew it. We had a few people over tonight for my birthday, and I got the loveliest gifts: a gorgeous necklace, fabulous book (Daring Book for Girls), some lovely creams called (get ready: Grace) and a set of butterfly notecards. If there were ever some messages of kindness those were them. And I was a stress ball all night. We leave tomorrow morning at 7 am for a 5 hour car/plane/car trip for The Prince's grandmother's funeral. And return the next day. I got edits at 5:30 pm tonight. And I got angry at The Prince for coming home after people arrived. After I packed up The Rabbit and myself. And I feel guilty -- all I was hoping for was a few people over for cake. I always feel strange about gifts. And then I always worry I am not appreciative enough. I squeezed in one act of kindness: I volunteered to send an e-mail out for The Rabbit's class for the teacher as she wasn't feeling well. Someone else got the e-mail out before I did --

I think I have figured out why I am walking around like Linus with a little cloud of dirt corrupting every nuance of my life: I'm jinxed. No, seriously. And I think I know why: Lack of balance. Now, I'm not talking about missing fiber from my diet. Or that my inner core is lacking some firmness. I just think somewhere along the line this year, I was distracted and took the wrong turn down some alley where it just ain't that friendly. Where cab drivers tell me racist jokes AND THINK I'M THE KIND OF PERSON WHO AGREES. So here's my plan. I'm going to be super friendly. To everyone. Yep. Kind of like that random acts of kindness idea. I'm going to try and do at least one kind thing everyday for the next 30 days. For anyone. And I don't mean filing the tip jar. I'm talking kindness. I'm talking helping a mom with her stroller up the subway steps. Smiling at the grumpy woman with three boxes of Triscuits who cut in front of me at the drug store. Waitin

A quick blog to rave about a new site called Catalog Choice. It's an Opt-out site for those who want to reduce the amount of catalogs that the post office tries to cram into your mail box every day. (That would be so me.) It's a fairly simple procedure -- kind of like the Do-Not-Call list -- and I've already opted out of about 10 catalogs that I seem to get weekly. It takes a while to kick in, and you actually need your catalogs (because you need to type in the customer numbers on them) but even the catalog companies are apparently supporting this because they too don't want to spend the money sending their Omaha Steak brochures to unsuspecting ,and uninterested, organic vegans out there. So check it out: Catalog Choice.

I am pissed off. I know exactly how pissed off I am because this particular incident happened at the start of the week and today, a full five days after the fact, I am still spectacularly pissed off. Alpha has started a new job, which is brilliant, but there is a slight downside in that he now has to be in the office bang on 9am every morning so no more Daddy school run for a while. It's now down to me to drag the nippers to school every day but I am not complaining. I really enjoy it; the route to school is a daily adventure filled with exciting dogs, cats, games of 'I Spy' and the discovery of 'secret' routes to escape the numerous monsters which lurk behind trees, lamposts and parked cars. The journey is punctuated by the feeding of mints into eager small mouths, dubbed 'leg fuel' to keep them going on the ten minute trek. What I don't like is the playground politics. Huddles of immaculate mothers lurk in the playground, eyes like laser beams, lipstic

The Prince is changing jobs and has a few days off before his next NEW gig starts Monday (yeah!!!!!!!!) and so today we're taking a mini-holiday, about 4 hours while The Rabbit's in school and before we pick her up to just walk around the city. It's a gorgeous day -- about 65 today -- perfect Fall like weather IF YOU LIVE IN ARIZONA. (I don't ever want to hear again that Global Warming is a myth.) And so we're going to look for a new suit for him, maybe a birthday present for me, maybe even a cup of coffee some place we've never been. Some place quiet. Where people smile. I really need this day. He and I have been sniping at each other, and I just need a serious break from the phone and the computer -- no more calls about legal stress, work stress, family stress. I just need a few hours with him, with me, to just be. Tomorrow we're taking The Rabbit out of school (her magical teacher is thrilled -- she said to me yesterday, "Family time is so importan