Ties That Bind
I had just confused a boccie ball with a melon ball. Or maybe it was a Scarlett O’Hara and a Red Headed Slut. Either way, I was pacing back and forth behind a bar, hands on hips, muttering something...
View ArticleBudding Artist
Love this photo. It brings out Penelope’s independence and style. Oh, and her fondness for cake! (Photo credit: Kacy Jahanbini) One evening before dinner recently, Penelope decided to start...
View ArticleFor Mom, the Second Day of Kindergarten is Harder Than the First
Penelope waiting for the school bus on her first day of kindergarten. (It’s the 50th blog post for “Growing Up With Penelope,” and I thought I’d celebrate by turning the page over to Bernadette. Since...
View ArticleGrowing Pains
Penelope hurried over to me, eyes brimming with tears, her thumb and index finger wiggling one of her bottom teeth. She told me her tooth was loose and started to cry. I asked her if she was bleeding...
View ArticleLost on the Island of Misfit Toys
There’s something singularly depressing about listening to Gene Autry croon “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer” from a tinny overhead speaker in a thrift store. A sequined wedding dress hangs limply...
View ArticleReconnecting with Our Past
The 1971 World Horsehoe Pitching Championships. I grew up in a neighborhood where rectangular patches of black clay blotted the green grass of everyone’s backyards. With the center of my six-year-old...
View ArticleThe Games People Play
Looks Painful! The 1980s edition of the Milton Bradley game “Operation.”My sister gave Penelope the game “Operation” for Christmas this year. I think I was more excited than my daughter because it’s...
View ArticleThe Night Andy Williams Did It My Way
Andy Williams crooning with the Lennon Sisters. As parents, we all experience moments when our little ones do things that are total head scratchers. Maybe they’ll color on a wall or drop a balloon in...
View ArticleWise Words on a Cardboard Box
A few months shy of the third anniversary of my Dad’s death, my sister, brother and I gathered in the house my Mom plans to sell. We met to clean out my Dad’s art room. Toward the end of World War II,...
View ArticleWillie
Something wasn’t right about Willie. Even as a five year old sitting around the kitchen table playing Parcheesi with my grandmother, I would feel a rush of trepidation when he’d creep past us into the...
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