Today coming home from work, I found my son running around the yard with a small football, while my husband was grilling dinner. My son asked me to play football with him and I agreed. So I walked up onto the grass and tucked my dress pants into my ankle socks (so the pants wouldn’t get muddy), and got ready to play the game with him. My son was delineating different trees in the yard as bases, and he was urging me to throw the football at the tree trunks to score points. When I did so, the ball deflected off the trunk, tumbling to the grass, where Joey proceeded to dribble the football with his feet for several yards. I chased him and tackled him to get the ball, to which he responded with fits of giggles. Then he told me we were both on the Giants, but we were on different teams. Offensive line and defensive line, possibly?, I thought out loud.
I bring this up because it was so much fun and so unexpected, and that’s why I love being a mom. Last night, I saw a really prolific show on memories and how we make them , and as I was playing this upside down game of football, I reflected how this was a great memory in the making.


wintertime from a kid’s point of view

my five year old son overheard me saying that I hoped that the recent downpour of rain would wash away all of the snow that’s left on our driveway and lawn. to this, my newly trained little skiier said “mom, I heard you say that you didn’t want any snow, why did you say that?” and then he added, “and why do they throw salt down to melt the snow on the roads, why can’t they put all of the snow onto the lawn?!” it made me chuckle. he’s got a point. the more snow on the lawn the more sledding we can do!

Something’s Missing

Something’s Missing

I don’t have one of my own, but I will quote Shel Silverstein


Something Missing

I remember I put on my socks,
I remember I put on my shoes.
I remember I put on my tie
That was painted 
In beautiful purples and blues.
I remember I put on my coat,
To look perfectly grand at the dance,
Yet I fell there is something
I may have forgot—-
What is it? What is it?. . . 

Sheldon Allan Silverstein

No regrets- Just lessons learned

I have learned to be kind and treat myself with the same understanding that I give others.  Coming to this conclusion has not been a lifelong process and has not been without heartache and sadness.  Through these challenges, I have come out with a greater appreciation for the phrase ‘to err is human.’  So what have been some of my greatest mistakes that have turned into lessons learned? There have been many, but to name a few: 
-Losing touch with my childhood best friend.  I drifted from him as we grew up and wasn’t mature enough to recognize that even though we were growing apart, there are certain memories that I have that only he was a part of – climbing trees in our backyards, riding our hotwheels, playing with toys in our nursery school class, sharing his Jewish holiday tradition by eating potato latkes at his kitchen table.
-Saying words in anger in response to my loved ones, especially my husband and my mother, who both tend be fiery and excitable, but also dedicated and loving.
-Not having enough confidence in myself to know that I was capable of becoming anything that I wanted to be and that yes, I could choose a lucrative career path and be fulfilled at the same time.  I love making human connections and helping others, but making money is very important too! It is stressful being in a career where make just enough to not be struggling, but not enough to forget about balancing the checkbook week to week.
I have worn my heart on my sleeve without reservation, and this has negatively affected some of my relationships outside of my family.  Now I am better reading a situation, and knowing when to be brief and reserved, or when it is okay to open up. I realize that not everyone wants honest and open conversation and that some feel threatened or embarrassed opening up or hearing such honesty. No matter what the circumstances,  I am completely comfortable saying, ‘I am well, how about you?!’ to certain people as I recognize the importance of small talk and surface chatter.  It builds trust and makes people feel more comfortable
ll this being said, I am gloriously happy with my life.  I have learned to not compare, as the grass always looks greener from the other side.  I have learned to use action instead of reaction.  I have reached out to my childhood friend and reconnected, even if it is on an acquaintance basis.  I have friends of all type- whether it be soccer friends, old friends, work friends, acquaintances in my community-  and they all bring a different type of meaning to my life.  I have said kind and apologetic words to my husband and mom. I frequently remind myself that they are seeing things from a different perspective than I and that I need to be understanding and appreciative of them. I recognize the strong love I have between each of them that keeps life exciting. I look at the positives with my job- it’s emotionally rewarding, I have autonomy, I have a flexible schedule– and focus on those highlights, rather than what it lacks.
I had had known better not to make these mistakes, life would be different, but I am not sure how.   These struggles have made me stronger and wiser, so I will take them at face value and be grateful for each day.
Sent from my iPad

The Daily Post

My name is telling of what my parents dreamed for me.  They dreamed I would be an independent and fierce woman like the person I was named after. I came along in 1977 at the height of popularity of the television show The Bionic Woman with its lead role heroine Jaime Sommers. This legacy has been a whisper on my shoulder as I have grown.

 My name has been a way for me to connect with others. When I meet a fellow ‘Jaime, Jamie, Jaimie’, we have an icebreaker conversation topic- how do you spell your name? Amusingly, there is a cohort of women in their 30s or 40s walking around who also had ‘dreamers’ as parents and can claim the same namesake as I.  

My name was an embarrassment for me as a child.  I didn’t like having a uni-sex name. I would sweat on the first day of class in grade school, praying to God that I didn’t have any ‘boy-Jamies’ in my class.  The role call on the first day felt like it took days to get through.  One year in fourth grade, I cringed with a flushed face, not once, but twice, during role call as other Jaime’s were called.  I blew a sigh of relief when I realized that two other  Jamie-girls were just as relieved as I that there were no Jamie-boys on class. I have to believe that Jamie-boys probably lived an equally torturous adolescence during first day role call.

My name occasionally gets me into a verbal battle with old-timers.  My eighty year old new-patient will say, ‘I thought you were going to be a man’ on our first meeting which is a lovely way to start a patient-clinician relationship, right! Even after I calmly report that Jaime is both a man’s and a woman’s name, I will have old-timers tell me that they’ve never heard of such a thing.

The name, Jaime, with an A-I-M-E, has taken me through life not without adventures, but I like it that way.