Mihow

Tag: intimate

  • NaBloPoMo: It’s Not The Voting That’s Democracy; It’s The Cocoa.

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    I voted yesterday. I brought Em with me and we voted together. I thought we’d turn it into “A Thing”. I’d teach him what it means to vote; take him into the booth with me; introduce him to democracy. We’d share an American moment—mother and son. So we set off at 8:15 AM. But I…

  • Stop Shredding Your Youth!

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    A couple of months ago, I was digging through some junk and stumbled upon several teenage diaries. Only they aren’t really diaries in the true sense of the word. I didn’t use them to write down my darkest, most inner thoughts. These are spiral bound notebooks I once shared with friends. Do they have a…

  • Scenes From A Movie Theater

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    We saw Inception last night. But don’t worry, this post has nothing to do with the movie. There will be no spoilers. It was a sold-out show. This happens frequently in NYC. People still go to theaters to see movies. Theaters are often full weeks after a film’s release date. I love this about living…

  • It’s Not You. It’s Me.

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    Here’s the skinny: I’m going through some stuff I don’t know how to write about—not yet. All I know is that lately whenever I sit down to write, I write about everything but the stuff. So I end up feeling disingenuous. All along, since the birth of this blog 9 years ago, I have tried…

  • Bye Bye, Facebook.

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    Today I “Deactivated” my Facebook account. I wanted to delete it but apparently that’s not really an option over there. So, yeah. Deactivated. Let me begin by stating that I am by no means someone who holds back when it comes to sharing personal information on the Web. (How old is this website?) But I do…

  • No Strollers Allowed!

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    I wrote the post below instead of doing what I should have done which was to call the establishment directly and ask them about the sign. Instead, I did what I can’t stand and got passive-aggressive about it on the Internet. (I am currently punching myself in the face for this, btw.) I’ve decided to…

  • Mom's the Word.

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    I don’t write much about Emory for probably pretty obvious reasons. He’s no longer a baby—he’s not even a toddler anymore—he’s a little boy. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to write about him. There are so many stories I want to share daily; stories I have actually written but never push live. I just…

  • Cabin Fever. Wii Olympics. Shutter Island.

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    On Sunday Emory and I packed up the car and set sail for South Jersey to stay with grandma and grandpa for a few days. The snowstorm that hit us last week was lovely, but it kind of kicked my ass where cabin fever is concerned. We were just stuck indoors too much and I…

  • The Nanny and Separation Anxiety.

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    We have been using a nanny for a little over a month. She came highly recommended by the owner of our building who has employed her for two years and continues to every day after her kids are out of school. (I have her in the mornings, three days a week.) She’s been perfectly fine.…

  • My Due Date.

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    On Monday I took a bus from 14th Street all the way to the Upper East side. I enjoy riding the bus. Many people find that crazy, but I do. I love getting lost in thought while moving through the streets of Manhattan. There’s just so much to look at, so many things that don’t…