In college, my pal, Martha, embarked on six weeks of The Red Diet. She ate only red and white foods, while red lights flashed on her tummy and drumming music blasted through the stereo. We chuckled watching her gobble up sirloin steaks (red meat), vanilla ice cream...
Yesterday, as I sat on Mopac, fuming, as one does in Mopac traffic, I spied the Frost Bank Tower. It’s now overshadowed by the higher, hipper skyscrapers, of course, but I remembered the balks and groans during its construction. “Have you viewed the monstrosity? You...
I used to stroll around Target with two babies born thirteen months apart. What mom doesn’t kill a day with air-conditioned zombie-walking, mainlining Starbucks like a boss? I’d pass the little boy’s department, well-stocked with graphic tees. My eldest was a serial...
“People should know,” the therapist said, “parenting is not gratifying.” I released an awkward “HA!” Did he just say that? Out loud? New mothers really shouldn’t hear this. Or any mother, rookie or veteran. The proclamation was irresponsible. (And thrilling.) And...
You’ve made it to the grocery store. Start in the produce section with the endless plastic bag hoo-ha before hitting canned goods. Don’t use up your reserves. You’ve a long journey. Next up, heavy lifting in aisle thirteen. My troop bathes in red sauce, apparently,...
I love to travel more than anyone in Austin. It’s a bold statement but I’m resolute. For our honeymoon twenty years ago, my husband and I splurged and flew to Italy. We spent two weeks romping around Florence, Tuscany and the Amalfi Coast. Our travel agent (remember...
We are a mostly “individual sport” type of family. Drawing, Spotify-listening, solo excavations into our own imaginations — that sort of thing. But I do long for moments of us working as a team. There was the sharing of the remote that one movie night. I don’t...
Like good Austin parents, we sent our kids to an enlightened preschool. And I mean this in the best possible way. The kids called the teachers by first names, they celebrated birthday fruit instead of cupcakes, and conflicts were “discussed” in lieu of discipline. On...
When I married my hunky Jewish husband, he had no idea I was such a Christmas-head. We’ve had our holiday issues. Said hunk wasn’t that into my Christmas tree. In fact, not at all, bless him. But as our years together seasoned, my tree collecting...
Yes, yes. First— it was the pandemic. Then the long summer with nowhere to go. Certainly, the kids never departing the house for school added to the extra cinnamon roll or seven. So, I radicalized myself. I stopped eating anything with flour or sugar. You got it. The...
My mother hated Halloween. We never understood why. It started in July when the costume catalogues arrived. Mom would tap the page of a benign Snow White or fireman, wary but hopeful. We would balk at her simple dreams. My sister chose Mickey Mouse one year. But her...
All I want to do is be a grandmother. I’ve got my name picked out: Nana. It’s not original but it’s comfy. I have nineteen bins of children’s books ready for reading to littles on my lap. But it’ll be a while before grandmother status. My kid is only twelve. Most of...
