Some days, it’s difficult to balance on the thin line between achievement and failure. Read more →
“That’s not true” has become my ten-year-old son’s knee-jerk refrain. He corrects every word I say. Every. Single. Word. Read more →
Lately, my son questions every word out of my mouth. It’s driving me batshit. Read more →
My parents bought a vacation house in the Poconos back in the early nineties. Actually, my mother was the one who bought the house. She went out with realtors and scoured the area to find a little cabin backed by a rushing stream, with an empty lot on one side and a preserve behind it. An idyllic, private setting with a lake club and a pool club nearby.
No one else in the family was interested. My brother, twin sister and I were young adults by then and were starting to take our own vacations. Plus, our idea of a vacation didn’t involve lakes with water snakes and silty, muddy bottoms. We were Jersey Shore kids.
My son didn’t cry on his first day of preschool; he cried on his thirtieth. Read more →
Lately, I’ve been feeling a little smug about how well I’m dealing with the aging process. My encroaching wrinkles give me character. I embrace my faulty memory. And my crotchety, do-it-my-way-or-not-at-all attitude has a certain charm. Aging and I have become buddies.
Then, the other day, I decided to wear a thong. Read more →
Let’s get this out of the way: I like pretty things. Read more →
I’m happy to say that my essay “Why I’m Teaching My Son That Tears Take Courage” has been published by The Good Men Project, a website focused on illuminating what it’s like to be a good man in today’s society. Read more →
After I started getting published and my parents realized my writing wasn’t just a passing phase, my dad told my sister, “When Colette finally writes about me, ask her to be kind.” Read more →