glenrockschwartz

Dear Alex, It has come to my attention recently that you have moved from generally noticing all girls, to perhaps being more specific in noticing and quietly liking one girl in particular.  I should have guessed that this would happen soon, given that this summer the boys in your camp group were a bit in awe about your friendships with girls and openly teased you for being a 'flirt'.  Even so, upon first thought, I thought that you were WAY too young and then realized that it is actually me who is WAY not ready.  In fact, you are at a perfect age.  When I was in fourth grade a boy named Rob Chaseman used to ride his bike home next to me and a group of my friends.  He used to sing Rolling Stones songs and I think I had a crush on him for doing this. I think you are a rockstar, just like he was. I love you so much, Mommy

Dear Alex, On October 25, 2013, just five months shy of your tenth birthday, this is what I know: Alex likes Adele and Adele likes Alex.  And I love you! Love, Mom PS this picture is from a Halloween parade - this isn't the way you guys dressed in 2013

Hi Alex and Avery, When you get older and have kids of your own, you will contemplate leaving the city for the space and greenery of the suburbs.  You will do this because the giant sized kid toys will be taking over your apartment and you will have convinced yourselves that your children need freedom to have fresh air whenever they want it, although in reality your kids will want to stay inside and watch tv, play video games or use the computer rather than go in the backyard.  You will also justify the decision to go suburban because of the schools, the excellent schools!  Before, during and after you make the suburban transition, you will bring up these justifications ad nauseum to your friends who have chosen to remain city dwellers, but in reality, you will be repeating these mantras to quell the fear in your own hearts. "Will I begin to wear mom jeans?" you wonder (or for Alex, whatever the male equivalent is to 'mom jeans').  Will I feel completely isolated...

Dear kids, Wow! I don't know why, I should expect it by now, but the fall and its routines really pack a punch that leave me gasping for air. I have always said that autumn is my favorite season: I love the changing colors of the leaves, the weather getting cooler so that you need to grab a sweater in the morning that you will shed midday, new clothes to wear and getting to snuggle in under the covers and night. Fast forward to being a mom of school age kids and that list changes to: football practice and games four days a week, School of Rock twice a week, Hebrew School twice a week, tap & jazz, soccer, cheerleading, packing lunches, making sure homework is done, making sure forms are filled out and returned, no time to cook or eat shabbat dinner together and in general no time to take a deep breath and just be. It's also emotional in the fall because there is a return to interaction with sports coaches and teachers and a fierce mama bear (that's me) will do ju...

Dear kids, Last night our family had dinner together.  This is not something that we do together every night, but most Sundays we'll try to sit together. While we were eating, your dad said, "You know, I have to admit, I really like having dinner like this, all of us together." Kids, if you want to know what makes a man really manly and attractive to women, it is comments like this. Love, Mom

Avery cuddling next to me in my bed, "I have a wedgie." Me "that's nice" A "do want to see how it's tucked in?" Me hiding a smile and enjoying how her little voice enunciated the hard CK sound in tucked, "Uh, no." A "c'mon, you know you want to see my little tushie buns!

Dear Avery, After your cousin Ben's birthday party last weekend, you were out walking around the Upper East Side with your Auntie Dawn.  When I came to pick you up, the three of us stopped into a mani/pedi place.  All the ladies in the place, both those working and those enjoying a treatment, celebrated that this was you first time getting a big girl pedicure.  We sat in pedicure chairs next to each other and you squeezed my hand tight at the beginning of each new step in the process.  When Lucy (the lady who gave you your pedicure) started to scrub your legs and feet you squeezed my hand extra hard because it really tickled and because as you leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Mommy, what if she scrubs off my freckle?"  The sweetness and innocence of this statement was not lost on me and nearly made my heart burst with love; I know how much you love that freckle on the bottom of your foot and how much you think this makes you who you are. I love the wond...