The conversation

The conversation

Anyone who knows me knows I have historically eschewed politics at every possible turn. I don’t necessarily understand them, and I’m not necessarily interested in them except insofar as they tend to orchestrate the world stage. Recent situations have compelled me to educate myself in this area – about the present, and about the past. I’ve learned much about past presidents, for instance, and the information has, in many cases, compromised the vague sense of “good” or “bad” I may…

Read More Read More

No longer politics as usual.

No longer politics as usual.

A few of my son’s friends came over recently to pick something up, and they had not seen our house yet. My son gave them a tour, and the whole time I was thinking, “Good Lord. This house is a mess.” I was somewhat embarrassed, and a bit frustrated about the condition of the kids’ bedrooms and bathroom. As I watched the RNC conclusion that night, a similar feeling crept in. I am embarrassed and frustrated by the state of…

Read More Read More

The Arrogance of Youth, or how I learned to stop lying about hair color

The Arrogance of Youth, or how I learned to stop lying about hair color

Waiting for the Memorial Day Observance to begin last evening, I couldn’t help overhearing a conversation between a few elderly people a few chairs away. They were discussing the lives and accomplishments of some of their relatives, and one woman said, “I’ll never forget my niece! She lives – wait. Where does she live, dear?” she asked her husband. “Cleveland. Yes. And what’s her name again?” I sat there chuckling, thinking, what do you mean, you’ll never forget her? You’ve…

Read More Read More

An open letter to Donald Trump, from a mom

An open letter to Donald Trump, from a mom

For seventeen years – all of their lives – I have strived to teach my children concepts I think are critical to a happy, healthy, charitable and compassionate life. Some of these concepts, like healthy self-esteem and body image, the ability to have difficult conversations, and the self-confidence to stand up for themselves and others, have been particularly challenging because I’ve had to learn them in the process. As I sit here and read about your latest insult – comparing…

Read More Read More

Irony at its best

Irony at its best

I recently realized that for the last month I have not written a “Boom with a View” post about being a 50-something working mother of teens with elderly relatives because I am a 50-something (with some of the health issues that accompany this age) working mother of teens (both involved in after-school activities and neither of whom drive yet) with elderly relatives (with some of the health/mobility issues that accompany that age). Coincidence? Perhaps. More will follow, I’m sure, as the…

Read More Read More

♫ Isn’t It Romantic? ♪

♫ Isn’t It Romantic? ♪

Gather ’round, kids. Our very favorite holiday, Valentine’s Day, is fast approaching. It’s the one day we are allowed to blatantly display our love for each other, and every year Auntie Maggie takes particular delight in sharing the special story of this most romantic time.  Yes, Auntie Maggie has an issue or two. Our story begins in Rome in the year 269 A.D. Emperor Claudius wanted to build a really big army so he could prove his manhood by having…

Read More Read More

There’s No Place Like It.

There’s No Place Like It.

I want to go home. It’s funny to type that as I sit in my chair at my desk in my office in my house, because of course, I AM home. But this home – this house where my children have grown up and this neighborhood where I walk my dog every day and this city in which I’ve lived for three decades – is not the home I’m talking about. That home is back in time somewhere – the…

Read More Read More

Don’t let the door hit you.

Don’t let the door hit you.

Dear thyroid cancer: You never did scare me, though you scarred me for life Removed as you were by my surgeon’s knife But with his skilled hands, you still didn’t mar My precious neck which now bears your scar You tried and you failed to make me feel sad You weren’t even the worst that I’ve ever had. You crept into my life with intent to disturb And so with my clean scan, I kick you to the curb. Maggie

Disturbing Thought for the Day

Disturbing Thought for the Day

“Kids! Where are my tweezers? I have a mustache again!” “Oh, come on! I’m old enough for an AARP card but too young for discounts?! That’s not fair!” “Yes, I know these mood swings are killing you, honey. They’re killing me more.” Recalling some conversations of the past 24 hours, it occurs to me that in my mid-50s, I am in the puberty of old age.  

The grief of stages

The grief of stages

A few years ago my kids reached ages that I vividly remember being. Every song from the ‘70s serves to keep those memories fresh, and they translate, somehow, to my parenting. Those memories inform the way I talk to my kids, respond to them, make requests, challenge them, congratulate them. I remember the roller-coaster emotions, the raging hormones, the displaced anger, the confusion. I remember the “being with friends” moments from which emerged life memories. I feel like I’m a…

Read More Read More