I miss panty line. I'm not sure if it's politically correct to say so, or if it's just plain weird, but I really do miss panty lines. |
Vacation. We wait for it all year, anticipating the transformative powers that will lead us from our stressed out daily routines to ... well, our stressed out vacation routines. And no one does stressed out routines better than a mom. |
For in the Bontempo household, only three television shows reign supreme: "Man vs. Wild," "The Deadliest Catch" and "Dirty Jobs" (none of which, ironically enough, is found on any of the "big three networks"). |
And, though I won't go so far as to wear a burka, it's safe to say that I will at least keep my underwear "under" my clothes, unlike those exercising the "thong showing above the pants" freedom. |
I love summer. I love it for oh so many reasons: Looser, lighter clothing, lazy, languid days, absence of schedules. But most of all, I love summer because of the food. |
This weekend, another Father's Day will come and go, frankly, without much fanfare. But, before you start to feel sorry for the guys, consider this: They prefer flying under the radar. Too much attention makes them exceedingly nervous. |
I want to reveal my inner goddess.
I know she's inside somewhere, and if the pictures are any indication, she's leggy, looks amazing in a bathing suit, and spends her time cavorting on a beach, which is right up my alley. |
The sudden obsession with quart-sized plastic bags revolves around the growing angst of the female Bontempo family members as we contemplate packing for an upcoming vacation. Now, I've managed many a family vacation in the past, with, I must say, the precision of a four-star general planning a major attack. With itemized lists created for each member of the traveling party, pre-packing inspections held and gear stowed with military exactness, past travels have gone pretty much without a hitch.
|
That means the boy has successfully completed sixteen years of schooling and will emerge this weekend with a diploma affirming the same. More important, it means that his father and I have survived his sixteen years of schooling.
I'm not sure which of us deserves more credit. |
I know what I want for Mother's Day. I know what I want, but the odds of my getting it are slim to none. It's not that my loving family won't buy it for me. It would make everyone's life much easier if I told them what I wanted and they could simply go to the store and purchase it. But what I want isn't available in any store. |
Ask any man his impression of dandelions, and the immediate reaction consists of a scowl, a furrowed brow, and an occasional "expletive-deleted" expression. |
I recognize that my refusal to abandon the trappings of womanhood - some might say vanity - in favor of comfort, can go too far. And some things, like it or not, really are better relegated to a photo album than the maturing female body. |
| | | | | | | Photo by Chuck Burton/Associated Press
Elliot Shadle, left, and his brother Alden, front, stand with their father, Virginia Tech history professor Brett Shadle as they look at a memorial for shooting victims at the Drillfield on the campus of Virginia Tech in Blacksburg, Va. on Thursday. | |
As our children grow, it is their job to separate from us, to find their own identities, to make their own way. But the separation is never easy, no matter how close the parent and child. The separating of an adolescent from a parent is usually wrenching nothing gentle about it. |
Move over, Springer, there's a new ringmaster in town: With the addition of Rosie O'Donnell to Walters' all female morning gab fest, "The View," it appears Babs has now resorted to mud-slinging to boost the ten year old program's ratings. |
Okay, before you decide to call Child Welfare Services, let me clarify. Luke is a dog. A pampered, well-loved, spoiled, very expensive dog. |
Yes, change is constant. But you can bet that I won't be changing our brand of cream cheese, or soap, any time soon. |
Hold the phone: missing a flight due to an ice storm is not so bad when you are left sitting by the pool in a bikini. |
It's a rough life: having to wait your turn, buying things you never get to use, getting the tail end of the hot water reserve, the evidence mounts in support of crying a river over the difficult sacrifice that is modern day fatherhood. That is, until mom gets to cross-examine the witness. |
The plain truth is: I think Valentine's Day is stupid. At least, I think what it has morphed into is stupid. What likely began as a sweet, simple custom to acknowledge the special people in one's life with a small token of affection today holds anyone in a relationship, or hoping to be in one, hostage to the impossible task of proving one's undying devotion through the purchase of stuff, and lots of it.
|
Somewhere along the line, though, "service" has come to mean, "We don't think it's really our problem, but if you have a screwdriver, we'll try to talk you through it." At least, that's what it means according to my computer company, which shall remain nameless for all of the obvious reasons. |
I daresay most of the women I know, could, with a minimal amount of effort, look far better than Cameron Diaz, sheathed in a white frilly gown with an odd looking black blossom on her shoulder, tresses dyed inkwell black to match. Maybe she was torn between dressing for a party and channeling Morticia Adams - one possibility which could account for her schizophrenic appearance. |
If there was ever a person who could steer a sinking ship back to some sort of a moral center, someone who could remind a crew of frequently questionable characters of their public responsibility, this is the man. It's about time. Congratulations, Denny. Score one for the good guys.
|
"Stop!" I wanted to scream. "I'm not ready yet; I need more time!" Not much, just a few days to gradually deal with the normal mayhem and madness of the world. I'm not a good "jumper-inner"; I'm more of a toe dipper - I'll immerse myself eventually. I just need a little time to get used to the whole enterprise.
|
Most of us make annual resolutions which are hardly new. Every year, we set ourselves up with the same old promises to do better, look better, be better, and every year, we set ourselves up for the same old failures. By the third week in, the New Year feels anything but new, and the winter blahs have us firmly in their grip. Another year of the same old, same old. |
Charlie Brown spoke with a wisdom far beyond his years when he admitted, "I just don't understand Christmas, I guess. I like getting presents and sending Christmas cards and decorating trees and all that, but I'm still not happy. I always end up feeling depressed." |
I've done most of my shopping, and I can't help but notice that the stuff people seem to need most isn't on any store shelf that I can find. So, I'm writing to ask if you would mind throwing a few extra items in your sack of gifts this year. I'm not even sure you stock these things, but any reasonable facsimile will do. And the sooner you can get the stuff here, the better for all of us.
|
Last week, I said I wasn't going to partake in any of the Christmas madness, but who are we kidding here? To make the entire enterprise a bit more bearable, I've come up with my own version of the venerable holiday favorite, "The 12 Days of Christmas." Sing along if you dare.
|
With Thanksgiving just behind us and the grateful acknowledgement of abundant blessings still fresh in my mind, I want to eagerly anticipate the "most wonderful time of the year." I really do, but the thought of diving headlong into holiday gatherings, crowds, malls, traffic and most of all, debt, fills me more with dread than eager anticipation.
|
My days are planned around what to eat, when to eat it, and how much of it I can eat and still indulge in dessert without too much guilt. Like anyone dealing with an obsession, even my moods are governed by my passion. On days when I seem particularly cranky, my husband will often look at me and say, "I think you need to go and eat a sandwich. Talk to me when you're full."
|
Then it descends on us mothers like the black cloud it is and will continue to be for at least six years: our sons' adolescence. Whereas teenage girls ratchet up their daily dialogue quotient into the high five figures, frequently causing their parents to beg for mercy and causing great rejoicing by those holding telephone stocks, teenage boys are suddenly struck mute.
|
Somewhere after the age of 40, most folks find themselves re-evaluating things, taking stock, figuring out where they've been and where they're going from here on. Often, we're not all that thrilled with what we see, especially when what we see sags, bags and hangs in all of the wrong places. |
As long as there have been females, there has been shoe obsession. (You just know a cave woman somewhere decided to perk up her fur slippers by tying stuff onto her shoes - brightly colored rocks for the fall collection and flowers for her spring line.)
|
It was a trip I'd made about at least a dozen times before.
After a short fall break, I was taking our middle daughter back to college. Once again, it was time to load up the car and head back to school, no more than an hour's drive away.
|
Gone are the evenings of family togetherness; every room in the house is equipped with the latest video technology. Everyone retreats to their own corners, leaving only the use of the bathroom as a viable tool for honing the skill of negotiating. Miss a favorite program? Download it onto your computer, cell phone or iPod. Catch up on the latest antics of those crazy Survivors on your morning commute, or even during algebra class. |
Last Friday, John Stossel of 20/20 helmed a program intended to dispel or confirm, through science, the myths and truths behind the differences between men and women. Men and women are most definitely different, not only in the obvious ways, and the show set out to prove that those differences are based much more on physiological variations in our brains than on society's handling of gender.
|
Like most women, I possess a number of pricey bottles of perfume purchased with delusions of becoming someone else. They reside there because also like most women, I fell victim to not only the aromatic fragrances, but to the allure of the promises made if only I would dab the intoxicating liquids behind my ears.
|
| | | | | | | Mary Fran Bontempo said enough was enough and bought new cell phones for her family this week. While not the model Mary Fran bought, this Motorola-Symbol tech MC70 is just the latest in a line of phones that combines a cell phone, PDA, scanner, computer and imager into one portable package. Photo by Symbol Technologies/Associated Press. | |
These days, with the Bell telephone dynasty a distant memory, purchasing a cell phone and accompanying service plan all but takes a degree in technology. Five phones, five directories to be transferred, five calling plans with various options tailored to meet specific needs. And after what seemed like five hours of explanation as to the "benefits" of our new gadgets, I left the store significantly poorer monetarily but loaded down with enough bells and whistles to run the New York Stock Exchange.
|
A young guy, amazingly talented at repairing, building and installing just about everything, Gary was introduced to us by a mutual friend. Unmarried but engaged at the time, and with a job that was often seasonal in nature, Gary was looking to make some extra money and to keep busy during his off season, and once we met, my goal, as well as my husband's, was to make Gary happy.
|
Obviously, elementary school teachers have a stake in this whole business, as their intellectual infallibility in the eyes of their students has now been called into question. I can't quite think of Sister Rosalia in exactly the same way now that I know she was leading me astray with misinformation all those years ago. And having been on the teacher's side of the desk, I can imagine the overwhelming dread that accompanies the question, "But Miss So-and-so, why did you tell us Pluto was a planet when it really isn't?"
|
As we drove off, I realized that, with our youngest still away, we were flying solo for the first time in over 21 years.
"Honey, what do you want to do with our new found freedom?"
"I don't know. Want to grab a bite and rent a movie?"
"We always grab a bite and rent a movie."
"Do you have any better ideas?"
I didn't. |
Imagine my utter horror, then, to discover every single woman's magazine ablaze with some form of the headline, "Leggings and Skinny Jeans are Back! And YES! You Can Wear Them!"
Well, no, I can't. And I'm willing to bet that neither can most of America - including the guys. |
Thanks to the destructive mastermind who invented Heelys, the sneaker with wheels implanted in the sole of the shoe, kids no longer even have to lift their feet to get around, much less run anywhere. By simply leaning back on the heel of the sneaker and giving themselves a slight push, youngsters can scoot anywhere with the most minimal of effort.
|
Parking spaces are at a premium during the summer months at the shore. As building booms have given birth to more duplexes and larger homes all along the coast, the summertime population of seashore towns has swelled to record levels. All of which means even fewer parking spaces to go around.
However, it's not the number of parking spaces that serves to separate the locals from their guests, but rather the way in which those spaces are commandeered.
|
Anyway, things hummed along nicely for a while, until two life-altering events took place. We bought a beach house and the kids became teenagers.
The cottage-like beach house came while the children were still young, and for several years, I lived with my illusions intact, running a slightly more relaxed but nonetheless tight ship. It was when they hit the teen years that the combination became combustible and blew my illusion of structure sky high.
|
This is a public apology to my husband.
After twenty-five years of marriage, I did the unthinkable. I called a locksmith to open our car. |
"Getting there" is an enterprise begun weeks in advance of the actual "getting" to the vacation. Beginning and ending with list after list of what to do, what to bring, what to cancel and where to stash the dog, getting there requires a fortitude of spirit and ingenuity inherent in only one magnificent creation of Nature. Getting there takes a mom.
|
Incessantly bombarded with images of waif thin, anorexic-looking models and celebrities, we are schooled early and constantly that thin is in. "Fat" is a four-letter word. And just try finding a woman's magazine without the word "diet" on the cover.
|
I think it's time someone thanked Joe Vento. |
It is because our guys know that we women have zero interest in the garage. In that haven, they are free to be whatever they like, as we of the fairer sex tend to avoid even peripheral garage contact at every cost.
|
Yes, in American culture, it's the moms and kids who are routinely celebrated, feted and basically, spoiled. The dads amble along behind, often looking befuddled, but rarely complaining that no one's paying any attention to them.
|
Lest we think that an escape to the mall for fresh summer attire will provide relief from the cold, hard villain in the mirror, we run towards the department stores and their bright hued clothing only to find, once in the dressing room, that our pesky poltergeists haven't limited their efforts to our houses.
|
Jimmy Mal and Meg's State of Denial |
I'm referring to the new game show sensation, Deal or No Deal, hosted by comedian Howie Mandell. I've always liked the slightly manic Mandell, in part because of his self-deprecating humor, and also because he's managed to keep a marriage and family intact, despite years of living in and around the Hollyweird bubble.
|
That's right, folks, it's prom season again. Few things are more important in the life of a teenage girl than "The Prom." Usually held in the spring, prom planning begins months earlier, at about the time the department stores put up their Christmas decorations, so, around October first. That gives the girls a few weeks during the beginning of the school year to scope out potential prom dates. |
By contrast, our garage, while technically of the two car variety, currently has space for about half a car, provided it's no larger than a Yugo, the remaining area being occupied by countless soccer balls, unused bicycles and dried out cans of paint. |
Now, after twenty-one years, at least officially, my son is a man. For to me, he will always be my little boy. |
I have been directionally challenged for as long as I can remember. If I am supposed to turn left, I will turn right. Go north, I'll travel south. Head towards the ocean, I'm going to the mountains. Enter the GPS, a life saver for the directionally dyslexic
|
My dog is served her meals regularly, has a large yard in which to chase birds and squirrels and has her paws cleaned every time she enters the house, to free her from any unpleasant effects of her backyard wanderings. She is lavished with affection and her every misstep is eventually excused because she is, after all, a dog.
|
We are forever searching for ways to get more of everything. In this nation of abundance, it seems we nurse a secret fear of being without or being saddled with second best. And we can't have that; it's simply un-American.
|
There were two other ceremonies before ours took place. Two other times during the day when excited students and parents swarmed the campus at Villanova University and marched through the doors in ninety degree heat to celebrate one of the passages of youth.
|
|
|
|
|