From the category archives:


Of Teeth and Blogs and Life

January 6, 2014

Yesterday, my son pulled out a loose tooth and when he came out I momentarily thought that he had the lead role in the oral remake of Carrie. “What’s with all the blood?” I shrieked because unlike vampires, I’m not really into blood. “I pulled my tooth out,” he told me. And then he handed […]

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Phone Fun

December 19, 2013

I called my son yesterday. “Hello?” he said when he picked up. “Hi honey, how was your da-” “Let me interrupt you,” he interrupted me. “Because I am not here right now, so leave a message.” “Cut it out,” I said. And then I heard the beep. Because that was his outgoing voicemail message. “OMFG,” […]

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Betting Woman

October 29, 2013

Last week my 12 year old son and I made a bet. It was his idea, because betting me is easy money. I wouldn’t be surprised if Congress stopped mid-trying to balance the budget with a “Eureka! Let’s just bet Marinka the amount of the deficit!” Anyway. He wanted to bet on the outcome of […]

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A lot to take

October 14, 2013

For a variety of reasons, my husband doesn’t read my blog. Something about not enough time, having heard all this stuff ad nauseam, not wanting to give me the page views. As with more things, the details are less important than distracting. So I go on, post what I like, knowing that he will never […]

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September 20, 2013

Yesterday I lost a $100 bet to my son. The details are fuzzy. It’s like a play in three acts, where you basically live for the intermission so that you can either sneak out or get a cocktail to anesthetize yourself against what’s coming. In Act One, which takes place in NYC in late August, […]

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My Kid’s Homework is Trying To Kill Me

September 13, 2013

I love my son’s progressive school, but sometimes the homework, OMG. It always has to be meaningful and topical and it really makes me miss the mimeographed worksheet busywork of my youth. Like in Math, they had to write their Math Autobiography. “What does that mean?” I asked. “We’re supposed to write what math means […]

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Yes, Sting, the Russians Love Their Children Too. Even When They Pull Shit Like This

August 19, 2013

12 year old son: Why did the chicken cross the road? 46 year old me: Why? Son: To get to the mean witch’s house. Me: Ok. Son: Knock, knock. Me: Who’s there? Son: The chicken. Da’yum, mom. #OMG

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Back to the Future

May 8, 2013

Sometimes I wonder what it’s going to be like when my kids are all grown up and visit me with their families. Will they learn to accept Ryan Gosling as my new significant other or will they continue to be starstruck in his presence? I know I’m being presumptuous. I mean, there’s no guarantee that […]

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