Arabic in the sand for "Happy Birthday UAE."
In New York, once I had kids, I tried to ignore the 4th of July. To me the 4th meant crowds, heat, and noise: too many people jammed along whichever river was the site of the fireworks, too many picnickers having too much to drink; and too much general mayhem for comfort: call me crazy, but the idea of teen-agers roaming the streets brandishing small explosive devices doesn’t seem particularly festive.
Once or twice when the boys were young, we braved the crowds, shoving the stroller ahead of us like a battering ram through the throngs. But in the long run? Not worth it.
What else I don’t do on the 4th? I don’t wear flag colors (I’m a New Yorker. We wear black. Year-round. It’s an entire city filled with women who dress like Morticia and Wednesday). (more…)
The name of the Saturday column is now…“Saturday Layover”!
This name was inspired by Mama Robin J of Canada who said, “Or something along the lines of After the Trip – to relate to the travel itinerary that starts the week off.”
She gave us the idea to tie the name into the theme of our weekly travel itinerary, where Kirsten Doyle announces our schedule for the week to come.
We had over 20 suggestions for the column name, and they were narrowed down to the four below. Twenty World Moms Blog writers participated in the voting and here is how it went:
- After Hours 30%
- Afterthoughts 20%
- Saturday Layover 35%
- Midnight Feed 15%
It was close! Thank you to everyone who participated!
So, last week I mentioned that I had written a little something on my personal experience with race relations. As promised, here goes… (more…)
Growing up, my best memories of July 4th, the U.S. Independence Day, were picking out my clothes in shades of red, white and blue, helping my mom put our U.S. flag outside our house and getting to run around with fire sparklers around our backyard at night.
Sparklers were for the younger kids (say 8 years old and up), while the big kids were helping the adults set off fireworks on our side yard. You’re not allowed to light off your own fireworks now in NJ for safety reasons, come to think about it, I’m pretty sure that you weren’t allowed to back then either.
I can still smell the savory scents of the day: hotdogs, sauerkraut, hamburgers, sausage, peppers and onions coming from the grill, and the aroma of mom’s potato salad, barbecue chicken and corn on the cob coming from the kitchen. We barbecued all day in our backyard, and my parents would have their friends over. And, everyone brought their kids, so the kids were always off playing on their own.
My mom would also make a U.S. flag cake, decorated with blueberries, strawberries and whipped cream, and my dad would stand over the grill until everyone had their fill. I can still hear him calling me his “bicentennial baby” because I was born in the year of my nation’s bicentennial, 1976. (more…)