I saw a little piece of magic this weekend, right here on the Jersey Shore. Something that reminded me, not for the first time, that I am right where I’m supposed to be. The celebration of our nation’s independence stirs up a lot of emotions for me. I mean, when you’re divorced, all holidays kindaRead more…
Tag Archives: summer
When Nothing is Fair at the Fair
It happened around 7:35 p.m. on Wednesday, Aug. 26 this year. That’s the moment when my youngest child – a boy who still kisses me full on the lips and likes to sleep in my bed – looked at me in horror when I suggested we go on a ride together at the annual firemen’sRead more…
5 Things I Feel Kind of Sorry About (In No Particular Order)
I try not to live a life of regret. I try to frame the maybe-not-so-positive events that go down in my world as life lessons. This way of thinking makes my therapist very happy and I’m a pleaser so there you go. However, sometimes I do find myself second guessing decisions I’ve made. Wondering whatRead more…
Forty-Eight
I knew that my 48th birthday yesterday was a something when it even seemed to give my father pause. I called him the day before to thank him for the gift he sent, and he mentioned my age and how the calendar on his computer had told him it was “Amy Byrnes’s 48th birthday” andRead more…
Summer ’14 Highlights: ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ and Egg Whites
My two daughters came into my room this morning to find me lying on my bed, typing on my laptop. “Mom, are you wearing real clothes?” one of them asked, and she started to inspect the strange pleated pants I was wearing that I bought at Athleta recently and had really taken a cotton to.Read more…
Full Nest Syndrome
Lately, I’ve taken to sitting at the head of the big pine table in my kitchen to write, my black-and-white slipcovered chair backed into the bay window that bumps out that back corner of the room. Outside the window over my left shoulder, there’s a tremendous amount of chattering these days coming from the finchesRead more…
overheard: summer conversations
This morning, while sitting locked in my room atop my bed on a work conference call, I overheard the following shouted in the hallway: “Can you PLEASE stop shaving your armpits in the bathroom sink?” Ah, summer.