In honor of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s recent birthday, I wanted to share a story.  The other night at dinner, my son was telling us that some of his classmates were talking about how much they dislike our President-Elect.  They dislike him so much they “hate” him, and they want to “punch him in the face.” 

My son told his classmates that they needed to do what Dr. King said — fight with their words and not their bodies.

I sat across from my son and felt my eyes fill with tears.

My son had said that.  Out loud to his classmates.  He didn’t just think it, but he said it.  It made me so very proud of him — his character, his values.  And it made me proud of our family.

Hope, and proof, that the dream lives on.

“When two people get married, does it only have to be a man and a woman?  Or can it be two men?  Or two women?”

That was the question my son asked me, and that’s the beginning of a personal essay that was recently published at MomsLA.com.

You can read the complete essay here.

On Sunday, we started the New Year with a family adventure — my eight-year-old son went on his first Ferris Wheel ride.  And not just any Ferris Wheel, but the world’s only solar-powered Ferris Wheel.  Standing in line, waiting to board, our son began to get nervous.  “Will it go fast?”  “Is it relaxing?”  he asked us. 

He told us he was getting nervous but that he still wanted to try.  And that’s what made me most proud.  My son didn’t walk away.  He didn’t change his mind about going on the ride.  We did it, as a family.  And, he loved it!

I tried not to make too big of a deal about it, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how this one outing really set the tone for what I hope will be a great 2017.  Trying new things, having family adventures, being brave, and not letting fear or worry keep us from doing what we want to do.

During the last few days of December, a lot of people tend to start looking ahead to the new year.  They’re busy making resolutions; promises to themselves (or others) about things they want to change and/or do better.  And, for the most part, they seem to tie it all to one particular date — the first of January.

I used to look at the new year in much the same way.  But, not anymore.

For our family, important new beginnings and significant milestones don’t take place on January 1st.  Instead they’re sprinkled throughout the year.  Like in March, when my husband and I will celebrate the 20th anniversary of our first date.  And in August, when my son will begin a new school year as a fourth grader, the same grade I taught for more than half of my teaching career.    

To my readers, warm wishes for a happy and healthy 2017!

When my husband and I first moved in together, we weren’t yet husband and wife.  (We were engaged to be married and were a year later).  We also weren’t two people with a lot of disposable income.  Actually very little disposable income.  Finances were so tight, that I kept a record of every dollar we spent.  What wasn’t absolutely necessary, wasn’t purchased.

Except for one thing.  I wanted (not needed, but deeply wanted) a real live Christmas tree.  Growing up my family always had an artificial tree.  In fact for most of my childhood, our tree was white (to resemble a snow-covered tree) adorned with blue ornaments.  (Which in fact worked out quite nicely since blue and white are the Chanukah colors, and my family celebrated a mish-mash of Chanukah and Christmas).

But living on my own I wanted a tree.  So we saved our money and bought one.  And every year since, we’ve had a live tree. 

This year it was our son who found the “perfect” tree.  And this year it was mostly our eight-year-old son who decorated the tree.  But that’s what makes the tree become our tree. 

Happy Holidays to all my readers!

If I’m honest, sometimes mothering seems like an endless to-do list. 

There is the list of things to do before school each morning, the list of things to do each afternoon after school, and the list of things that need to be done each night before bed.

There are appointments to keep track of.  Haircuts.  Dental appointments and yearly doctor’s appointments. 

But the other night, my son said something that made me stop and really just appreciate the moment.  He was in the bath, covered with bubbles.  And when I asked him if he was comfortable, if the water was warm enough, he didn’t just say “yes.”  Instead, he said his bath was so good, so warm, so cozy that he felt like he was “swimming in hot chocolate.” 

All I could do was smile and issue a quiet thanks for that moment.  And for all the little moments in between the chores on the to-do lists.

On Sunday, we took our eight-and-a-half year old son to see the theatrical production of White Christmas. He’s never seen the movie, but prior to buying tickets, I showed him a couple of clips on YouTube to see if he’d be interested in the show.  He was.

Our son is very musical.  He loves to sing, and he loves to dance.  So it seemed like White Christmas would be an ideal choice for his first theatrical stage show.  (My son did attend a small theater production of Sleeping Beauty with his second grade class last year).

My son was enraptured during the performance.  He smiled, he oohed and aahed when the artificial snow came out near the end.  He clapped enthusiastically.  And he told us he’d like to see another show again.

Although before the show, my son was a bit nervous.  As we settled into our seats, my son had wanted to know if there were any bad guys in the show.  Was there anything bad that would happen?  And I could confidently answer “no.” 

Which makes me love White christmas even more.  It’s all about friendship and love.  About doing something nice for someone else.  About having faith in others.  Important lessons for all of us.

I’m halfway through reading Katie Couric’s The Best Advice I Ever Got — Lessons From Extraordinary Lives.  It’s a collection of essays (some are just one paragraph long while others go on for pages) from a variety of people — athletes, entertainers, entrepreneurs, artists, and more. 

Here are some of the pieces of advice I’d like to share with you:

From Katie Couric — “When it comes to going for a job, a promotion, or just about anything in life, I’m pretty convinced that the meek will not inherit the earth.  You’ve got to find a way to make yourself stand out from the pack …”

From Mario Batali — “Sooner or later, you’ve got to get a brand. … The kind of brand I’m talking about is nothing more – and nothing less – than your own truth, expressed consistently by you.”

From Anna Quindlen — “Fear is what stunts our growth, narrows our ambitions, kills our dreams.  So fear not.”

Since tomorrow is Thanksgiving, it seems like the perfect time to revisit (and update) something I first wrote several years ago.  I’m a big believer in paying attention to the “little things.”  And along those lines, I’d like to offer an alphabetical list of gratitude for the mostly small, largely overlooked things that help make my life easier, more manageable, and more pleasant.

A Air conditioning.  We take it for granted until it stops working, or we spend time in a place without it.

B Bookstores.  While it saddens me to know that there is only one bookstore close to home, I am thankful for that one bookstore.  Nothing quite compares to browsing through the aisles and discovering a book you didn’t know you wanted.

C Cheese, shredded.  Those bags of pre-shredded cheese make my dinner preparations faster and safer (no worrying about scraping knuckles against a cheese grater).

D Dollar Tree.  It’s reassuring to know that when it feels as if everything is getting more and more expensive, we can still go into stores such as The Dollar Tree and afford everything they have for sale. 

E Electricity.  Much like air conditioning, you don’t realize how much you depend on it until it’s not working.  When the power goes out, suddenly your options are so much more limited — no toasted bagel and no microwave popcorn.

F Flushing Mechanism of the toilet.  I don’t know exactly how it all works, but I’m grateful that it does.  That the “yucky” stuff disappears and is replaced with a “non-yucky” bowl of water.

G Glasses.  I’m thankful that we found out my son needed glasses.  I’m even more thankful we found a caring optometrist located close to the house.  And I’m even more thankful it’s become so common for kids to wear glasses and that my son wears them to school without any sort of teasing or self-consciousness.

H Hot chocolate.  My son and I sometimes describe the weather as “a hot chocolate day.”  The last time we enjoyed mugs of hot chocolate and played board games while the weather outside was chilly and rainy.

I “I love you.”  Three of the most powerful words.  And I’m thankful each time I’m on the receiving end of those words, and I’m grateful I have so many in my life to say those words to.

J Jokes.  Tasteful, g-rated jokes that are silly, make you laugh, and bring a smile to your face.  The kind of jokes you read off of popsicle sticks or the jokes my son reads us from his joke book. 

K Kitchen appliances, specifically my microwave.  While I don’t consider myself a “microwave cooker,” I do use the microwave each day.  I reheat leftovers, I warm up a bowl of my son’s favorite noodles, and for an easy dinner, I make microwaved baked potatoes.

L Letters.  There are only 26 letters in the alphabet; that’s all we have to work with, but combine them together and they’re among the most powerful human tools.  26 letters to convey every human emotion and anything a human could imagine.

M Magazine.  Call me “old school,” but I still have magazine subscriptions.  I like reading a paper magazine, flipping pages, and ripping out articles I want.

N Nightlights.  When I was young, they were reassuring.  Now that I’m older, a nightlight is just practical.  It keeps me from bumping into the wall when I wake up in the middle of the night and go to peek in on my sleeping son.

O Odorizer, as in the spray cans in each of my bathrooms.  You shake, press the top, and a burst of wild cherry or summer breeze is released into the air to mask any non-fragrant odor that may have invaded our noses.

P Parking space.  Whenever I have to circle for a parking space and then encounter one, I give a little “thanks.” 

Q Quiet.  It’s the night-time quiet that gives me a sense of peace and well-being.  My son is asleep, the house is in order, and I’m appreciative for another day.

R Radio.  My car has a CD player and a radio in it.  I still make my way through my favorite stations, because I never know which song will be playing next.  And every once in a while the radio will play a song I had forgotten about, a song I hadn’t heard in a long time, and it puts a smile on my face.

S Seat.  A seat in a busy Starbucks or at a crowded Johnny Rockets. 

T Tickle and squish.  Games that my eight-year-old son and I play.  There most likely will come a day when he won’t want to play these games with me, so for now I treasure them.

U Umbrella.  While you can certainly make it through a rainy day without one, having an umbrella is a game-changer.  It can make the rain not just endurable but pleasant.

V Vase with fresh flowers.  It’s one of my indulgences.  But it makes me happy to have fresh flowers in our home.

W Washing machines and dryers.  It’s nice to know that all I do is add the ingredients (dirty clothes and laundry detergent) and the washing machine takes care of the rest.   

X Xerox machines.  The computer printer in our home also makes copies.  A convenient and easy machine that we use much more than I had originally thought we would. 

Y YouTube.  We don’t watch it a lot, but it is very convenient to be able to access YouTube and watch a variety of different video clips.  I’ve told my son about Singin’ In the Rain, and then he and I watched Gene Kelly sing and dance to that famous song.

Z Zoos and aquariums.  While some may not agree with keeping animals in confinement, I would argue that zoos and aquariums make it much more likely my son will have an up close and personal experience with an incredible creature and then grow up with an appreciation and respect for that creature.

It’s been a tough week for everyone I know.  Our country, as we know it, has changed.  Whatever your individual politics may be, I think we can all agree that the President-Elect has said (and done) some hateful, hurtful things directed at many different groups of people.  In fact, his comments and actions directly impact my whole family.  The President-Elect has spoken negatively about women (me), African-Americans (my husband and son), the disabled (me), Jews (my son and I), and Muslims (my son’s former nanny).

The teacher in me came out as I tried to talk to my son about the three branches of government and the idea of checks and balances.  But I can’t help it — I’m scared.  I’m scared for the path our country is on; the path that half of my fellow Americans have chosen. 

Last year, my son wrote a letter to President Obama.  Months later he received a typed reply complete with President Obama’s signature, as well as a picture of the President and a signed picture of the First Family.

The letter and pictures were framed and proudly hang in my son’s bedroom.  They are there as proof that anything is possible.  That a man much like my son (a man with a black Daddy and a white Mommy) could grow up to become President of the United States.

That letter and photos will remain as reminders of where we were and where we can return. 

And needless to say, there will be no framed picture of our President-Elect hanging in my son’s bedroom.