Posts Tagged ‘disappointment’


Tuesday, April 6th, 2010

About 20 years ago, when I lived in Los Angeles, I needed to go apartment-hunting. I did what all apartment hunters did in those days, pre-Craigslist and Google and practically all Internet: I picked up a copy of the local newspaper and scanned the real estate listings. Pretty quickly I learned that the real estate business had its own code to describe properties: “cozy” meant “small,” “charming” was “run-down,” and “fixer-upper” meant prepare to spend the next five years of your life doing just that.

My favorite term was “Beverly Hills-adjacent.” A unit described as “adjacent” could be miles from the center of what most of us consider “Beverly Hills,” but as long as it had anything in common with that prestigious location—both were north of Orange County?—the listing would proclaim it. It was a great lesson in how attitude influences perception.

Since becoming a mother, I’m very aware of my attitude, toward every person and every thing. My children are watching me all the time and, metaphorically speaking, taking notes. For example, two Christmases ago, we were driving home to San Francisco from San Diego and the kids saw a sign for Disneyland. “Disneyland, Disneyland!” they screamed. Of course, a trip to Disneyland requires months of planning ahead. It’s not the kind of destination where you can just swerve off the freeway at the Disneyland exit and pop in. (more…)


The Book Order

Wednesday, March 24th, 2010

I forgot to place a book order when the latest flyer from Scholastic was placed in Mateo’s cubby at preschool. I meant to. He and I had sat down at the kitchen table a couple of weeks ago and marked the items he wanted. Books about cars and trucks, bunnies and foxes, numbers and counting, songs. And the section in the flyer with toys in it? We checked those boxes, too.

Today when I picked Mateo up from preschool, he greeted me with an uncharacteristic frown. “You forgot the book order,” he said as his little friends danced around him clutching plastic Ziploc bags filled with paperbacks. “Everybody got books except me.” He cried as I buckled him into the car seat and cried all the way home.  At dinnertime, tears streamed down his face as he pushed away his plate.

 “Mommy forgot the book order!” he wailed when Tim walked through the door. “Everyone but me got a packet.” (more…)