Tag Archives: Mom

The Mother’s Day gift my Mom isn’t getting

And yes, I know Mom isn’t supposed to be capitalized when preceded by ‘my’ or ‘your’ but it just feels wrong not to capitalize it. I will break this rule every time. 

Spring for me is the triple whammy of gift giving: Dad‘s birthday, Mother‘s Day, parents’ wedding anniversary.

M&D

Finding gifts for the people I love more than bacon and naps, who have the means to buy themselves whatever their hearts’ desire AND who always proclaim that they don’t want me spending money on them is hard. Continue reading

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Twitter Spotlight: Sarah Orsborn

First I found Sarah’s blog, Ernie Bufflo, which is named for a moniker she gave herself as a child. Twitter came later. Instagram too.

Our lives are quite different but I was drawn in by her writing. This woman is strong–you only need to read about her harrowing delivery of beautiful twins Etta and Claire to gain an inkling of that strength.

Any time I need a lift, I watch this video of Claire walking. You see, Claire has Spina Bifida so this walking thing took extra practice. Look at her go!

Meet Sarah:

Sarah

OneChicklette: Your favorite qualities in a love interest Continue reading

Twitter Spotlight: Christina Majaski

Writer, very funny blogger (you can apply to date her)

OneChicklette: Your favorite qualities in a love interest

@cmajaski: humor, a beautiful brain, and the ability to cook well.

OneChicklette: Your chief characteristic (one word)

@cmajaski: bitchery

OneChicklette: !!! (I need to use that)

CM

OneChicklette: What you appreciate most in your friends

@cmajaski: They tolerate and support my hair-brained ideas.

OneChicklette: Your idea of happiness Continue reading

Rice to Riches

I thought I hated rice pudding. Actually I did hate it.

My first taste of rice pudding was probably at the Charl-Mont, a now-shuttered department store restaurant I dined at hundreds of times in my childhood and where I had later worked as a [terrible waitress]. I remember a milky pudding with random grains of rice.

Disgusted, I couldn’t understand how my mother could like rice pudding. Blech. I avoided it for year.

When I moved back to NYC, I heard about Rice to Riches. In spite of my distaste for the gloppy dessert, I always planned to take my mother there.

Instead, we’d go to Pellegrino’s, planning to save room for dessert and make a stop at RtR.

Pellegrinos

 

Take note: there’s no escaping Pellegrino’s with any stomach space remaining.

Finally, I made a solo stop at Rice to Riches on my way to a midday meal at Pellegrino’s with Mom and some of her friends. 

I don’t know what I expected but…wow! All of the flavor choices and toppings at Rice to Riches made my head spin. And that’s what got me to taste for myself and not just pick flavors I thought Mom would like.

rice to riches

Guess what? I loved the rice puddings. The texture was more like oatmeal, which I love, than the nasty soupy product I sampled years ago.

I bought rum raisin and butterscotch rice pudding for Mom with a side of cherries. And a small caramel flavored rice pudding for myself!

Further proof that a set-in-her-ways picky eater can learn to appreciate new tastes.

PS while Rice to Riches is generous with samples, I do not recommend going in with this mindset.

“Why so quiet, Chicklette?”

It was quiet around here last week on the blog. Hopefully your reaction was “where is she?” and not “oh, thank goodness!”

In recent weeks I have been away more than home. 

hiya

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Greetings from Montecito

This is all you need to know:

But in case you do want to know more, keep reading. Continue reading

My weekend in a nutshell

Pellegrinos

By the time I got back from a biz trip to DC, I was too tired to do much.

I found the energy to eat and drink though! Mom and her friends visited Saturday and we went to our old favorite, Pellegrino’s.

When the group departed, I met up with friends at Linen Hall (one rushed Manhattan) and Omar’s (two delectable Manhattans).

How was your weekend?

A Weekend Full of Tickets

You know how I love to nap on weekends. And blog. And go to restaurants. And nap some more.

This past weekend, I really didn’t do much of those things. I thought I’d be cranky about the change to my comfy routine, but instead I really enjoyed myself.

On Saturday, I had brunch with my buddy Walt from Bowery Collective at The Wren. We talked about Whiskey Washback.

Then my friend Melissa and I saw Kanye West at Madison Square Garden. It was my second time seeing the Yeezus tour. More on that soon.

Kanye

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Marathon weekend in NYC

“Take a hot shower. You’ll feel better,” Mom said on my fifth or sixth day of being sick.

“I wish you were here to put fresh sheets on the bed while I shower.” I responded, practically punctuating my words with a :-(.

crabby

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After Philly: 2 hours in the car with Dad

While I was in Philly, my family suffered two losses. Sunday, in particular, was an awful day.

On Monday, once it was clear that my father was doing well post-procedure and would be released the next day, my mother made the trip north to Scranton while I stayed behind to wait for Dad‘s discharge. Her departure ensured that I got to watch The Bachelorette in the hotel.

On Tuesday, Dad was beyond eager to get home. After six days in a narrow hospital bed, being awakened at all hours for checks of his vital signs and numerous needle sticks, who could blame him? Dad desperately wanted to put on his own clothes and escape, but he still had a heart monitor on him and an IV port for medication delivery. While we waited for final orders, I used a lime popsicle to get him to behave and sit still.

Are all men children for life?

When he got sprung from jail the hospital, we made a break for it.

Together we drove up the Pennsylvania Turnpike in Mom’s Cadillac. Traveling by car with Dad is better than driving with my mother (sorry, Mom). He lets me control the radio and doesn’t criticize my driving.

In fact, he typically falls asleep for approximately 49% of any car trip. It’s only weird when he raises an arm and points zombie-like mid-snooze. Given how much he uses his hands when awake and talking, this should not have surprised me. Dad blames being Polish for that (and lots of other things).

We spent most of the drive tuned into XM-Sirius 90s’ station. Dad didn’t know TLC’s No Scrubs when it came on, but I noticed him tapping his toes to the music and took that as an invitation to give him the history of Chilli, T-Boz and most importantly, Lisa “Left Eye” Lopes, as well as to explain the concept of a ‘scrub.’

Dad is now fully on-board with the fact that women don’t want or need no scrubs. A scrub would get no love from him should I accidentally date one.

Telling Dad that Left Eye was the one who burned down Andre Rison‘s mansion really put the whole story into focus. He seemed appropriately sad when I told him that Left Eye died in a car accident in Central America.

I was about to tell him about T-Boz’s battle with sickle-cell anemia and Chilli’s history with Usher, but then Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch’s Good Vibrations came on and I had to keep up.

Dad had never made the connection between the actor he likes, Mark Wahlberg, and the dude who “sang” with a funky bunch and lifted cinder blocks on a barbell.

I don’t own this image

I didn’t bring up the wonderful Calvin Klein campaign. There are limits to the things I will discuss with my father. I did, however instruct Dad never to call Mr. Wahlberg “Marky Mark” should he ever meet the actor. Can’t have Dad’s handsome face getting punched.

After passing through the Lehigh Valley tunnel, we hit construction-related traffic. Neither of us were bothered. We had great tunes and even better conversation to help us pass the time.

I intend to drive my father around again when I’m back in Scranton in a few weeks. We haven’t yet exhausted the possibilities of 90s on 9, but there’s still the 80s station.