MY BOOK KEEPS SELLING!!

My book keeps selling.  The sales are all in the U.S. so far but they are selling!

Hope you enjoy the read!

I spent a fabulous hour with a group of readers at the Atria Roslyn Harbor

I came to talk and I learned from my audience.  There are some fabulous things going on at the Atria in Roslyn Harbor.  Thank you, Megan for inviting me.  I feel privileged to have met a group of feisty, alert, active, engaged people who are in their nineties – some even very close to 100.  They inspired me, as I hope I entertained them.  Summer camp for seniors with a lot of activities ranging from exercise-  including rowing teams, to talks, to trips, these people are staying relevant! I raise my glass to toast them:  To health,  to health, to health, to health, to health! (Judith Viorst)

4 more copies just sold! I hope you enjoy the read!

MY GRANDSON REFUSED TO SIGN MY MOTHER’S DAY CARD!

Mother’s Day is here!  We have an unusual tradition that my daughter invented.  My daughter and I celebrate Mother’s Day together the day before Mother’s Day.   She devotes almost the entire day and we spend it together doing girl things.  We chit chat over tea.  We buy junk jewelry.  We wander in and out and about town.  We sit down to lunch.  We get reflexology.  It is truly a great gift because my daughter is so busy.  I have to thank my son-in-law and my grandkids for sparing their mom for the entire day.  It makes us feel younger – like when my daughter was in high school.

On the real Mother’s Day, my daughter is the mother that her children celebrate.

She brought me a card and flowers and asked my granddaughter and grandson to sign.  My granddaughter sent me a “jewel.”  My grandson who is older and can write, refused to sign.

“It’s Mother’s Day,” the six year old lawyer inside him said.  “It’s not Grandmother’s Day,” he explained.

And the more I think about it, the more I respect his judgement to honor his Mother on this day!  And my daughter promised me that he will get me a card on Grandparents day!

 

 

 

 

 

 

GIVE ME BACK MY FACE!

 

I have come to the conclusion that there is a narcissist inside each and every one of us.  My granddaughter— well, she looks like me.  Even though she has her dad’s nose and his mother’s round face, she looks like me.  Even though she is built a little chunky and she has sturdy legs and feet, and I have thin legs and high arches, she looks like me.  She does not have my blue eyes.  But she has my hair.  Her hair is curly and wavy.  It has a wildness to it.  It needs work.   But after a bit of detangler and after someone runs a comb through it, and after someone twists a little piece and puts a ribbon in, she is striking.  

She has my look, my expressions, my feistiness.  She is charming and likes to laugh.  She likes to make others laugh.  She is engaging and she can hold a conversation.  

I had plucked a wild chin hair and it left a mark.  June noticed it when I was changing her diaper.  

“What’s that boo-boo?” she asked with sweet compassion.  She reached up and gently pulled my face down and said:

“I want to kiss that boo-boo.”  And she did.

Then she squirmed off the bed with an intent look on her face.  She has something to do and somewhere she has to be.  She is two and a half.

Dare to cross her, and she will give you a piece of her mind.  On occasion, she is knows to scream:

“Get out of here!  I didn’t ask for YOU!”

I cannot help it.

“Give me back my face,” I say mildly amused.  She laughs and pretends to rip her face off and put it on my head.  

“Give me back my hair,” I continue in awe that my looks and possibly my personality skipped a generation.   She is undeniably a part of me.  She pretends to pull her hair out and puts it on me.  But in a split second she takes back both her face and her hair.  

I look at her and I see a little me.  And I can’t help but be a little narcissistic and ever so proud!

377 words

MY GRANDDAUGHTER DOES NOT REFER TO ME AS “GRANDMA”

My not quite-three-year-old granddaughter wanted her mother, my daughter, to read her a book, but my daughter was busy with my grandson.  “Ask Grandma to read to you,” suggested my daughter.  My granddaughter put her hands on her hip, opened her mouth and in a very Queens accent, said:  “I don’t want FAKE mommy.  I want my REAL momma!”