First time blowing your nose
First soccer game when you re-tie your own shoes
First trip to the library alone on your bike
First time baking cupcakes from scratch without help
First lip gloss
First unsolicited apology to your brother
First day packing your own lunch
First time you care about your haircut
First time you comfort me
I do not remember the mall being quite so loud. Or so colorful. Or so big.
Twelve Oaks Mall popped up at 12 Mile and Novi Roads back in 1977, when I was ten years-old. We had Hudson’s then. There was a movie theater near Sears. And a food court.
There were stores where a girl could buy ballet flats or a sparkly scarf. Lord & Taylor was a good spot for winter coats and dresses. You could spend an entire teenage afternoon wandering from one end to the other. If you were lucky, you’d head home with a swishy dress, a pair of jeans and a new lip gloss. Continue reading
My daughter is writing 30,000 words for National Novel Writing Month, and I am not.
I am proofreading her bat mitzvah invitation and walking the dog and editing student essays and making sure we have enough bananas. Continue reading
The tea sandwiches should have been my first clue.
Invited to brunch with my future husband’s family in New Orleans, I expected bagels and lox, smoked whitefish, coffee cake and sliced tomatoes. Instead, the spread included jambalaya and petit fours, cucumber sandwiches and mid-morning cocktails – delicious, but nothing I would have found on my grandmother’s dining room table in Detroit. Continue reading
My daughter did a magic trick. She sawed the beautiful lady in half right before my eyes – except she did it with words, with her remarkable story about September 11 and New York, with people flying within reach of the Twin Towers and kissing beneath street lamps and flowers falling from the sky. Continue reading
It’s been a tumultuous couple of months in my community. My synagogue building is closing just as Miriam gears up for her bat mitzvah in February, leaving us anxious and excited all at the same time. Continue reading
Now I know how my nine-year-old felt his first day of Little League.
On the playground, he’s the king of baseball. But among kids who’ve been playing serious ball since age five, he was destined for the outfield. Continue reading
Always travel for simchas. You will easily find a way to make it to the funerals. Make a point of celebrating as much as possible. Continue reading
I kiss Miriam goodnight and am overwhelmed by scent: Midnight Pomegranate hand lotion, mint foot cream, tea tree shampoo. The fragrance is fruity and woodsy, surface and substance, the tangle of possibility and promise embodied by a 12 year-old girl. Continue reading
Josh wants a space pirate party for his sixth birthday. I’m working out the details. In the meantime, I celebrated the big 4-3 yesterday. It was quite an extravaganza. When you’re a grown up, you have to squeeze your birthday into the rest of an adult day. You don’t get 24 hours off from being the mom.
Here are some highlights: Continue reading
Writing It Down 