renaissance

Mothering Heights: The Hanukkah Bunny

“Did you hear that?” I asked my girls as they ate dinosaur chicken nuggets and juice boxes for dinner. Their little faces dropped. “What was it?” “I heard something upstairs, maybe in your bedroom.” Their eyes widened as they searched my face to see whether they should be happy...

Mothering Heights: The Turkey Fail

I’ve obviously failed as a mother. Come Thanksgiving and my kids only want to eat chicken tenders and French fries. There’s no respect (or desire) for the roasted turkey, cornbread stuffing, and puddle of gravy.  Just mention cranberry sauce and saliva drools down my chin. Th...

Mothering Heights: A Survivor’s Strategy

Here’s my speech: Get a mammogram yearly, examine your breasts monthly, and exercise daily. If you have breast cancer in your family, have dense tissue or feel a strange lump, demand (not request) a MRI and ultrasound. Eat your vegetables, drink mostly water and try not to...

Mothering Heights: Golden Heroes

All together now, “Big breath in.” Repeat after me, “School has started. And the tourists are gone.” Now doesn’t that feel better? Not really. I’m still traumatized from back-to-school shopping where I stood around in my comfortable shoes and double muffin top negotiating with my...

Mothering Heights: Kardashian vs. Franklin

“I want to be famous,” my  11-year-old tells me. We are standing on Hollywood Boulevard watching the premiere of the new Ben Stiller movie, “The Watch.” I had a meeting in Los Angeles and brought my daughter along for a fun overnighter. “Why do you want to be famous?” I ask....

Mothering Heights: The Miss List

When I was growing up, I didn’t have any famous female role models. Of course, I wanted to help people like my social worker mother, do everything perfectly like my Aunt Ona, and be on time and classy like my grandmother. As far as someone in the news, it just wasn’t happening....

Mothering Heights: The Traffic Bash

I’ve taken to bed. Seriously. I am in bed, refusing to move. I vow to never leave my house, ever again. It’s not because I found out that my summer diet is actually a weight gain program or that my organizational plan is making me a candidate for “Hoarders: Buried Alive.” Nor is...

Mothering Heights: Parental Unplugging

The last few weeks of school are like the final days of pregnancy. You’re so busy getting ready for it that by the time your water breaks, the final school bell rings, you are desperate for that baby face to pop out and say, “Wah, wah! It’s summer time, Mommy!” Don’t get me...

Mothering Heights: My Academy Awards

I’m feeling oxygen deprivation as I realize there are only four days left of school. We must keep calm and carry on. Or as I like to say, “Keep calm and eat chocolate.” Instead of whining about the fact that I have not made any plans for my kids, I want to focus on the positive....

Mothering Heights

Not Child’s Play   Somehow parenting seems to be getting more and more worrisome. Not only do we have to ask “do you know where your child is?” but also “do you know what your child is reading on Facebook or Instagram?” For those of you who don’t know about Instagram, it is...

Mothering Heights

Parenting Method #261   I’m finding it difficult to whine about motherhood these days. Perhaps after 11 years, I’ve perfected a method to this parenting madness. Granted my girls are older and out of the dirty-diaper-oops-I-pooped in my-panties phase. Also, public restrooms...

Mothering Heights

The Fear to Volunteer   A friend of mine says there are two types of people in the world: Those who have worked as a waitress and those who haven’t. My husband says there are those that have children and those that don’t. I say there are those that volunteer and those that...

Mothering Heights

My Yellow Brick Road   For spring break, I traveled solo to the Land of Oz for a service honoring my Aunt Ona. Even though she had traveled the world (and lived in the OC), she wanted to be buried in Humboldt, Kan., population 1816, a town where my extended family was...

Mothering Heights

Getting It Right   Mea culpa. I want to apologize for the title of my column, GROMs Be Gone. It was not my intention to say that skateboarding should be banned from Laguna Beach. For those of you that don’t know me well, I spent the last year fighting breast cancer. I rarely...

Groms Be Taught, Not Gone

Editor,   Groms will never “be gone”, that is the way God has designed life (“Groms be Gone, Mothering Heights, March 23). Every generation will raise another as we are fruitful and multiply the human race. I am one happy parent of a skateboarder who is growing up like I...
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