That's A Wrap

Take One, Scene One:

Two friends are seated at a kitchen table surfing eharmony, a website of dating hope that one friend has recently joined.
The joiner says: "Let's look at my matches. If nothing comes of it, at least I will have 90 days worth of laughs."
Non-joiner says: "What was the age range you put in? My God, if that guy is 45, I'm 70!"
Joiner says, "Look at this one, he lists his job as "pharmaceuticals," he's a drug dealer, next!"
Non-joiner says: "Well, here ...this guy seems normal, he is an architect."
Joiner says: "Are you kidding...he's making out with his dogs in every picture. I hate dogs. Okay, I did say I like pets on the site but this animal lover, no way!"
Non-joiner says: "Okay, this guy then, he is a lawyer...no wait he has tattoos all over his arm...he probably got his law degree while in prison.  Next."
Joiner says: "All right, let me show you the 2 guys I have decided to break the ice with...look at these two.
Non-joiner says: "Oh my God, no way...no way...no way get rid of them...they are ex-husbands of friends of mine...only in their dreams are they what they say they are. Lucky I'm here to screen these guys for you."

At that moment, the computer screen beamed, "Windows is Shutting Down."
End of Scene One

You may think that you saw this scene on tv, you may have.  I am sure it has happened an unimaginable amount of times.  The other night it played out in my kitchen with my best friend, "the joiner."

So often you hear people searching for their "soul mate."  Who coined that phrase? It has become a cliche. My friends need to stop searching for one, as a nice friendly chap will do as a start. 

I need to have my joiner friend come back over and watch my favorite tear jerker flick: Cinema Paradiso.



Young Salvatore falls in love, has his heart broken, and never really loves again. His eyes are opened at the film's end. The film's ending is the best I have ever seen.

Call me a naive romantic, but I love the way love is portrayed in the movies. Love is wondrous and love is torture.

My true love is Robert Redford. Of course it is. He is intelligent. He is a cowboy. He is a thespian. He is a philanthropist. He was and always will be Hubble Gardner. And, well, my name is Katie.

I think I have watched, "The Way We Were," at least 30 times.  Katie Morosky is an odd choice for Hubble which is why us ladies love it!  Katie M did start annoying me after my 20th viewing however, I keep forgiving her because of dialog such as this when she pleads with Hubble to stay:
HG: "You never give up, do you?
Katie: "Only when I'm absolutely forced to. But I'm a very good loser."
HG: "Better than I am."
Katie: "Well I've had more practice."

I bet most women have dated a Hubble Gardner. I was in love with one for three years until his candy coating wore off, exposing his true Charlie Sheeness.   I fled.

Us women love to talk about love. What could be better fodder?  Over the years I can recall some pretty sage advice that I have given myself and others.  I continue to develop this love laundry list:

1. Know your value.
2. Desire a loaf of bread and not crumbs.
3. Don't rescue or look to be rescued.
4. Let yourself be adored.
5. The movies are not always right.

Regarding the Fifth principle, a scene from my favorite Mother/Daughter drama: The Joy Luck Club,  proves my point.  After Suyvan's dinner party at which her cooked crab was featured, Suyvan says to her Chinese daughter,
"That bad crab, only you tried to take it. Everybody else want best quality. You, your thinking different. Waverly took best quality crab. You took worst, because you have the best quality heart. You have style, no one can teach."

Listen here, my eharmony joiner friend(s).  You have the best quality heart.  You have style no one can teach.  Take the good crab. You deserve quality.

Where Are My Gold Shoes?

Today the sky is a dreamy blue.  A shade of blue that I have seen many times in children's picture books, in popsicles, gumballs and sheets of satin.

I wish if the sky fell it would just envelope me in its sweet, comforting blue hue.

The week has ended. A bittersweet conclusion.  My mom flew in for my daughter Casey's Spring Break.  With a "routine" break comes tender, sweet, funny moments and jittery, scattered, flip-outs.  The flip-outs are my short bursts of frustration where I cannot get my five year old to "do as I ask."


My mom's plane flew out last night. Casey spent the night at her dad's place and will return home soon. I am left with some waking hours of alone-time to let my brain and emotions melt into a pool of lumpy tapioca.   After this exercise, I will take my tapioca mindset and begin reconstituting it into a firm yet penetrable workable form.


Laundry is done, check. House is cleaned, check.  Dog is fed and walked, check. My yard is beautiful, thanks to my mom and Casey planting for days. . . Check Check Check!

The inventory of my surroundings is done so it is time to take stock of my thoughts.  Seeing Casey enjoy her Nonni all week and watching her behave splendidly for her brings me pause.


Mothers want the best for their daughters.  My mother sees the wonderful life that my daughter and I have.  She sees the beautiful relationship that Casey has with her father; one that I have worked hard to nourish and one which I continue to foster despite the sacrifices I make.  


Yet she wants me to be careful not to forget to nourish myself before all others...to vigilantly create my own life irrespective of my daughter...to pursue love...a love that will give me the adoration I deserve...perhaps the value I crave.


It is oftentimes lonely being a mother, having a child be so utterly dependent on you to know your way around the world.  It is especially lonely being a single, Alpha female raising an Alpha 5 year old female.  No matter how many "right" things you do as a parent, when you have lived your life in a driven, goal-oriented way, you see the "wrong" things you do in 3D.


But I must forgive myself for some of the lapses of "structure" I know that I need to provide my daughter in our home life: of going to bed at the same time, sleeping in our own beds, eating balanced meals at the table with no drawing pads and computers available. Yes I am guilty of cuddling up with my daughter on the couch during school nights and letting her drift off to sleep in my lap. Yes I am guilty of letting her sleep and wake up in my bed and letting her whisper softly to me each morning, "Mommy are you awake, look the day is here." Yes I am guilty of letting her draw while she eats and while I eat and write on my computer. 


But my daughter is not my life; she is the welcomed guide to my great life. Every day she grows and I grow. I teach her and she teaches me. She can do things better and so can I.  There are moments where I call her Veruca Salt; the spoiled girl who falls down the bad egg chute in pursuit of Wonka's golden egg, or Violet Beauregarde; the gum chomping take it and never leave it girl who turns into a giant Blueberry.   But there are countless moments where I call her my angel baby, a label the NICU nurses fittingly gave her at her birth.

Nearing Easter and having had my mom visit makes me think of my favorite children's book: The Country Bunny and The Little Gold Shoes.






The Country Bunny is the main character in a story that has defined my life and undoubtedly the lives of many other adults who grew up reading this tale of courage, resourcefulness, fairness, and determination. 

 In 1939, DuBose Heyward, legendary author of Porgy and Bess, wrote this story for his daughter. The Country Bunny is about a little girl bunny with brown skin who believed that one day she would become an Easter Bunny.  Her dream was a long-shot given that only “big white bunnies who lived in fine houses” and male “Jack Rabbits” had historically become Easter Bunnies, coupled with the fact that she had 21 bunnies to raise.  But the Country Bunny had a kind and very wise fan. A grandfather of all Easter Bunnies believed in the Country Bunny and he gave her the hardest task of all, delivering an egg to an ill child on the highest mountaintop.  With the help of gold shoes, the Country Bunny succeeded and became an Easter Bunny, returning from her quest in time to bring Easter tidings to her own bunnies.

I know many Country Bunnies and they enrich my life.  I see my mom as a Country Bunny. I hope that in time my daughter sees me as one too. 

I just found my Gold Shoes and I went out to my car and with my beautiful nails chipping and scraping, I removed the numerous stickers that Casey had plastered on the 2 rear windows of our car.  Those stickers had traveled with us for months.  Despite not being Jewish, nice moms at school wished us Happy Hanukkah because of the many holiday stickers gracing my car windows.  It was time for me to reinforce needed boundaries.  

The glue was great on Casey's stickers. They put up a good fight but finally yielded to my efforts.  Our car windows now glisten.  All I needed was to focus and assert my Country Bunny Alpha mompower.