eatthefrostingfirst

Sometimes I feel like I'm living my life out of a Talking Head's song: "And you may ask yourself. Well, how did I get here?" Occasionally I think I'm on a show-watching a movie. Or acting in it. Playing the part while life just passes me by. Right in front of me. P-A-S-S-I-N-G me by.  This morning oldest had an endoscopy (one of many that he has had and will continue to have for the hot new disease titled EOE. I know, my kid's a trendsetter) I digress.. I'm sitting in the waiting room. Waiting (duh!) Mrs. Stern? (oldest's) Mom? Oh ah, yes, that would be me. When did I become someone's mom and a Mrs.? Really? I'm going through the motions. Day by day. My kids are fed, cared for, loved. I take them to their doctors appointments, school, camp, playdates. I cook dinner, clean the house, do the laundry I do an occasional facebook post, dinner with a friend, see a movie, glass of wine on a Saturday night. Yes. Im living my l

So when I asked (incessantly) my 7 year old why he wasn't playing football with the other boys at recess he said he wanted to play on the swings instead. "Mommy, if I dont care that I'm not playing with them, why do you?" So there it was. A kick in the gut. My 7 year old was smarter than I was. He was more secure with himself than I was. He was confident enough to do what he wanted to do at recess-not conform to what everyone else was doing. Lesson learned What else have I learned from my brilliant, adorable, smart ass, funny, willful and exhausting boys? It's fun to eat candy before 10AM sometimes. It's okay to cry when you're afraid, unsure, scared or confused Thunderstorms are sometimes scary Sing at the top of your lungs if you want Ask questions Giggle Do as you wish not what others do

The smell of the rain during the summer instantly brings me back to walking down the camp road on the way to the old rec hall for some rainy day activity. My kids cannot go to Canobie Lake Park without hearing some story about how we were not allowed to make phone calls home on trip days and how we weren't allowed on the big roller coaster when I was their age (not that I would've wanted to go!) A Friday night shabbat service at a temple is instantly compared to Friday night services at camp. (The tunes aren't the same and it's not spent putting arms around the person next to you in an overly heated dining hall as you sway back and forth) (With only one giant fan blowing in row five-the way back of the place!) 4th of July was spent eating bomb pops and admiring fireworks which were being set on the docks at the waterfront. The smell of bug spray ruminating in the air as we all huddled around yelling "ooooh, aaaaahhhh, awesome" (I wonder if they still do tha