Now What?

Truth: Monday's suck. I honestly, and quite naively, thought I had today (Monday) by the balls. Last night (Sunday) I put on my A game. I made the kids' lunches (which included fruit, just saying), prepped my coffee pot, filled a bowl with quick oats for the morning and took out my Pilates clothes for the 6 a.m. class. I checked the forecast one last time. Early morning snow to rain by the morning commute. No snow pants needed for school this Monday! At 10:30 p.m. I nestled my weary body into the cool flannel sheets and launched into dream land. Around 3:30 a.m. I heard a loud, thunderous roar and thought it must be a rain storm. Then I heard the dreaded scrapping sound of tow trucks along my street and thought the unthinkable. Snow. I got up and peered through my dusty venetian shades and saw the offending powder form a billowy blanket over my lawn. As a New Englander, I should be immune to snow and wintry mixes. Hell, I trained for four Boston marathons in far worse condition

At my row class this morning, I chatted with a woman who recently reconnected with some friends in Luxembourg after having studied there twenty-five years ago. On this recent visit, she recalled that the easy-going life-style she keenly observed years ago still remained as prominent as ever, even with all the advancements in digitizing our lives. Newsflash: People in Europe know how to take it easy. This conversation immediately triggered memories from when I studied in the quaint town of Nijmegen in the Netherlands during my junior year in college in 1991. As a naive 19-year old college student thrust in a foreign land abound with bikers and canals, I was awe-struck by the breezy Dutch way of life. Cooking with friends, drinking coffee or going to a pub were normal day-to-day activities. After lecture students would meet for coffee at a koffiehuis (not to be confused with coffee shop, though worth a visit nonetheless) to discuss the day's lesson. Sometimes the professor would

Answer: Bust, or maybe Busted? I did not plan on writing a post this weekend because, well, we had plans -- big, magical plans filled with kingdoms, mouse ears, tea cups and childhood fantasy. Our family vacation to Disney world came to a sudden standstill due to Matthew, the nefarious hurricane that barreled up the eastern Atlantic coast. Earlier in the week, I eyed the news and half-heartedly paid attention to the weather. Last Monday, I assumed the hurricane would have passed Florida by Tuesday or Wednesday. On Tuesday night, my daughter meticulously packed her Minnie Mouse carry-on case with shorts and swim suits. She even picked out her airplane outfit. On Wednesday night after I put the kids to bed, I received a jolting email from Jet Blue -- Your Flight Has Been CANCELLED. They even capitalized the "cancelled" part and it felt like I got punched in the gut. "How can this be?" I thought. The Orlando International Airport would be closed from Friday (the day w

If Shakespeare were alive today, he may be having the last laugh watching neurotic parents debate about homework -- for elementary school that is. The conversations heard around the school yard goes something like, "What grade does homework start? Why isn't my kid getting homework" Are the other 2nd grade classes getting homework? I heard we were doing away with homework." My first bit of advice is, Relax. As a mom to a first and fourth grader, the amount of homework that journeyed through colorful cardboard folders, through rain, wind, snow and the occasional lost backpack, has been tame. And nobody lost any sleep over it. Recently the homework topic manifested at our parent back to school night when my son's 4th grade teacher explained her homework philosophy. For this year, regular homework will consist of a weekly reading log that goes home on Tuesday and returns completed the following Tuesday. Kids are required to read at least 30 minutes for a minimum

Does anyone remember the Ronco rotisserie grill? You put a massive piece of meat inside, set the button, and hours later - presto - your food is cooked to juicy perfection while you carried on with your life for hours outside the kitchen. I like to live my life like the Ronco grill  - set it and forget it. Don't get me wrong, I can handle change, and I think of myself as very adaptable. Heck, I lived abroad at age 19 for my junior year of college. However, now that I'm married with kids and have a full-time job, I like the day-to-day things to be on cruise control. I like to set it and forget it. Well this week threw me for a whammy just as the start of the back to school routine started to marinate. I received an alarming message from work. The CEO of my company announced a change to the standard work week hours. Beginning November 1, all salaried employees will adopt a standard 40-hour work week. Now, for all you busy full-timers, you may be thinking, "so what"

While technically summer has not officially ended per the astronomical calendar, it's over from a summer school break perspective. Actually, the demise of summer starts around mid-August when humidity is replaced with crisp air and back to school catalogs clog the mailbox. I admit, I was in denial. I wanted the endless summer to prevail, to savor and preserve every ocean wave crash and the velvety sand between my toes. But there's something to be said about getting back to a routine. For the last few weeks leading up to the start of school, my kids roamed about with wild abandon. Camp ended, and we shipped the kids to my parents for a week. I felt out of sorts. Maybe it was too quiet? Instead of going on long runs in the early evening, I binge watched the Americans. Our big date night in Cambridge was downgraded to suburban dining in Wellesley. I side swiped a metal pole trying to back into a gas pump, tearing the front section of my beamer. We took the last week of August