2018 | PulseonParenting

Step Nine for an Extraordinary Life: Act Like a Tourist

Oct 09 2018

It couldn’t have been more obvious we were “not from those parts.” Wearing comfortable clothes. Lingering, in no hurry to get somewhere. Tilting back in slight back bends (our mouths agape) to marvel at the height of the skyscrapers surrounding us. Ok, we exaggerated the last bit just to be silly. But yes, my parents and I were the quintessential tourists in New York City. We stuck out, even in a sea of other visitors, even in a city where we definitely weren’t the weirdest thing on the street. It’s one thing to embrace the tourist persona while on…

Oct 03 2018

I’d like to interrupt our regularly scheduled blog post for an important public service announcement. I’ve written over time about the importance of the influenza vaccine and the myths surrounding it. Today, I’d like to share more of the latter. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard new rationale against getting the “flu shot” and it’s been a good reminder that one will never hear it all: I’m not getting the flu shot because I heard a woman got pregnant after she got it. You can’t say I didn’t warn you. And it gets even better: a boy in my son’s…

Sep 18 2018

He’s moody. He’s all arms and legs. His voice cracks uncontrollably. He eats like there’s no tomorrow. And then tomorrow, he eats the same way. He doesn’t understand why he is sad. He alternately hates you and and needs to snuggle with you. Sound familiar? A pubertal boy drowns in a cesspool of changing emotions, feels self-conscious about his raging acne, and takes naps like he did when he was an infant. (Not to mention he is nervous and confused about the changes in his body.) And that’s the tip of the iceberg. The process is hard…

Sep 11 2018

9/11. Seventeen years ago. How can that be? That day will be in our minds forever like it was yesterday. I remember where I was. I remember the crazy-busy workday. I remember believing what a cruel hoax I thought this was, because of course, this couldn’t be happening. I remember the faces of certain patients to the detail. I remember words exchanged. I remember the confusion, the desire for detail our office couldn’t receive because our clinic was t.v.- and radio-free, and smartphones weren’t “a thing” yet. I remember a patient coming in the office and stating that many firefighters…

Sep 11 2018

I wasn’t sure about sharing the story I’m about to share. I don’t like tooting my own horn or sounding that way. If I wrote it, I wanted the post to be vulnerable and relatable. My goal would be a story with a life lesson to share with the kids. So here it goes. I was driving home late one afternoon when I came up on an SUV traveling half on the road, half on the shoulder. It was creeping along, well under the speed limit, and the left turn signal was flashing even though there was no…

Sep 04 2018

Sometimes things just fall into place. Sometimes they fall into place so perfectly it surprises you: like finding two pieces of a polar-bear-in-a-snowstorm jigsaw puzzle that fit together. No, this isn’t about the box I needed for shipping a violin, which isn’t a box one normally has just laying around the house. (But in case you’re wondering, I just happened to have this very rare, but perfectly-sized box in our basement.) Instead, this is about the next step toward living an extraordinary life: I had just begun research into two posts on journaling, one for my readers’ personal guide and…

Aug 29 2018

My daughter, sitting in the cramped airplane seat next to me, sobbed uncontrollably. Even though these tears were triggered by disappointment (she desperately wanted that window seat so she could see London as we flew in), they were really from travel exhaustion. And from coming down with a cold. My son didn’t want to go to his week-long boy scout camp; staying home to play video games seemed a lot more fun. At least that’s what I thought his protests were telling his dad and me. When we arrived to drop him off at the rendezvous point, the floodgates…

Aug 15 2018

I hated writing as a kid (how things change…). And I mean Hated. It. But I did keep a diary, one of those with the cheapie metal lock that was easily picked by prying eyes. I wrote everything private in that little book. Boy-crushes, my worries, my deepest thoughts. It never occurred to me the irony here: I hated structured academic writing yet let the ink flow into a girly, flower-y volume. The answer seems obvious now. At school I wrote because I had to. At home I was the boss of what I wrote. Ba-Zinga. Just how slow was…

Aug 01 2018

We were told it takes a year. Of course, at that time we couldn’t imagine what the next 12 months would hold, but we knew it wouldn’t be easy. Every day would be a first. One year ago today my husband’s dad, my second father for 30 years, and our kids’ grandfather lost his brave fight with a rare cancer. True to his nature, he outlived the prognosis by several months with his positive outlook to live every day to the fullest. He learned from a early age how precious and tenuous life is and made sure, for almost 60 years…

Jul 31 2018

I love me a beautiful writing journal. Browsing all the shapes and sizes, colors and patterns, snap closures and leather ties is, for me, better than shoe shopping. I’m proud of my collection of bound volumes adorning my bookshelf, but I have a dirty little secret: I’m not so good about writing in them. Even the brand-new, shimmery, technicolor volume beckoning to me from my office space is not motivating me to finish writing in the yummy “Land of Oz” journal I currently use. Not that I don’t love journaling because I do crave the chance to free-write but…

Archive - 2018

Step Nine for an Extraordinary Life: Act Like a Tourist

The Influenza Vaccine: You Can’t Make This Stuff Up

We Will All Be OK: a Teenage Boy Going Through Puberty

9/11 and Our Kids

That Lousy Driver

Step Eight for an Extraordinary Life: Write it Down

Crying: Just Let it Out

How to Get Kids Excited About Journaling

One Year Later

Journaling: Not Just for Writers