Running Red Momma

The usual rush and pull of the holidays has gone.  I am still looking back at some of the lessons we learned. The combination of daughter in ballet and a new PBS premier of Nutcracker created the perfect date. We waited for a lull in the holidays to view the recording. Much later, as we sat there watching the Nutcracker prince defend himself against the mouse king, my daughter whispered to me: "It's kind of weird,that guy, I can't watch it."  I have always tried to demonstrate my comfortability with the human body. I don't want my kids to have any hang-ups.  So, I tried to explain about the typical costume of a male dancer. His outfit was compared to a football players uniform, of course. However, that Nutcracker seemed enhanced . He was beyond the normal of ballet.   Sheesh, as the big screen lit up the room, I had a hard time looking at it as well.  Those tights just display everything for gosh sakes.  Why does each part need to be so clearly exposed? Why can...

We had a jolly Christmas Eve party. (Just in case you might be wondering.) P's sister couldn't be there, so she visited us via skype.  We carried her through the house to join in the party; think Pam in New York on The Office.   I was so happy for the wonders of technology.  Despite my earlier rant, it can help us be more connected.  The internet connection was so strong she joined us in the car as we loaded up.  That night had been full of meatballs, stuffing, creamed corn, wings, cake, cheese cake, cheese balls, cream cheese, cheese roll, did I mention the cheese? Erlack! Sometimes cheese, as much as I love it, does a number on me. As I climbed my very full body through the car, I could hold no more and I let out a much needed post-party toot.  "Ew, gross!" I heard.  Oh, the shame of being caught in the dark privacy of one's own car.  Is no place sacred?  Isn't the car man/woman's last place of solace?  I think I will have to blame the excellence of the...

With the advent of email, the joyous walk to the mailbox has been replaced by a shuffle for bills. As much as I appreciate the ability to easily connect within anyone in the world, the personal touch of mail has been lost. No longer do I get to see handwriting or mistakes or an individual choice of stamps. Instead, I get flyers and coupons. Hence, Christmas is a particularly festive time of notes from loved ones. I do a small skip to the box each afternoon. My husband and I know a family who sends sarcastic, witty Christmas letters. They actually cause us to read it more than once. This year, I saw the address and shouted to my husband "We have THE letter!" We gleefully sat down to read it together. I ripped it open and we settled down for laughter. It was a poem. It told us of how they were doing. The other spouse wrote it. Sigh. I don't think we finished it. Normally, I do read these kind of letters. We just felt so let down. I confess I don't write cle...

On a snowy morning, I sat my kids down to see this, (sound seems a bit delayed): I clearly remember waiting for the radio to play this song. We would sit in the car and hope it would come on. This video is still my favorite Christmas message. Then, I was in the zenith of my young- teen- MTV-watching career. Every singer was a favorite and sooo cute. There you will find that Bono is young and hot. Boy George is funky before he channeled all the crazy. George Michael still looks sexy and innocent...well mostly. Simon Le Bon growls his lines and it is a fun tune. Bananarama, Paul Young and Spandeau Ballet are all there. The men display their full-color hair with eye make-up. (My daughter remarked the men look like girls/ the girls like boys. Bananarama was doing grunge before it was cool.) The bangs, tousled hair and glam of the 80s are delightful. They re-did the song recently. The newer version includes Cold Play and Natasha Bedingfield. Amy Winehouse is missing from it...