Like many others, I spent Thanksgiving weekend eating a lot of great food, spending time with friends and family, and even getting in some exercise thanks to the incredibly gorgeous, unseasonable weather we enjoyed in this area. And again, like many others, the exercise consisted of playing in a touch football game, going for a couple of long-ish runs, and taking a power stilts class. (Cue sound effect of scratching needle on record) Power stilts? I found myself asking the same exact thing. Since getting involved with a band of other short-attention-spanners almost seven years ago, I’ve been …

As Thanksgiving is tomorrow, I’d like to get in the spirit of the holiday and reflect upon some of the things for which I am truly thankful. Of course, I’m completely grateful for all the usual stuff: a husband and a daughter whom I love more every single day even though I may want to throttle them occasionally, good health, enough food, comfortable shelter and smart and ridiculously funny family and friends.  >shakes head like Keanu Reeves in “Parenthood” because introspection seems so out of character< But I also wanted to mention some of the oft-overlooked, but truly important things that …

Well, it’s that time of year. You know, the time when everyone gathers on the big day to eat, watch some larger-than-life figures on the television and then give thanks. Unless, of course, they are a Redskins fan. I recognize that’s some mighty big trash talk from someone who knows very little about what’s going on in the world of football. I don’t know what gene I’m missing, but I have absolutely no interest in the sport. Perhaps it is because I did not go to a big football school. Perhaps it is because I never played as a child. Perhaps it is simply because I hate freedom ... [Right now, …

This season, my daughter, Avery, really hit her stride as a soccer player. That’s the word on the street, anyway.    You see, until this past Saturday, I had no first-hand knowledge of her progress because every time I showed up at practice, she would be distracted. And by “distracted” I mean “a total pill.” She’d cling to my leg and refuse to go on the field even though she loves playing and seeing her friends. Of course it was killing me to miss seeing her in action, so after staying away for several weeks and having a couple of talks with her about not losing focus if I watched, I …

Based on all of the photographs I’m seeing posted on Facebook, I would say this was one of the most creative Halloweens in recent memory. There were so many fantastically surreal and scary characters that if I didn't know better, I could have sworn I was in a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon’s office. One friend of mine dressed as Cindy Lou Who (she looks just like her) and her husband dressed as the Grinch. My mother dressed as Princess Beatrice wearing her insane fascinator from the royal wedding. An old friend and his girlfriend did professional-quality makeup for their Day of the Dead …

I woke up from a nap this weekend to discover I had become extremely popular while I was asleep. (Yay! All the wishing I did in junior high school finally came true!) During the course of my slumber, I had received 65 new messages in my personal e-mail inbox. When I clicked on the inbox, I realized every single message was from my husband. While I can appreciate stalking shows how much he cares (flashback to our dating days), we’re married now and it frankly just seems like overkill. It took me a moment to realize the e-mails were actually from my daughter, who was sending them from the …

I’m at an age where my contemporaries are achieving some pretty amazing successes in their careers. One friend was recently flown to Brussels to be a keynote speaker at a conference, another is on a book tour for her well-reviewed first novel, and yet another promotes partnerships for a high-performing public charter school in New England. I always thought when I reached an age where my friends stopped regarding work as a place to meet happy hour companions and instead began focusing on providing value to the world, I would feel like a real grown up. Surprisingly, arriving at this point does …

On a recent trip my husband, daughter and I took with our friends Leon and Amanda, our itinerary included the exotic destinations of Bali, Jakarta and Yogyakarta in Indonesia, and Hong Kong in China. And I have to admit, even though we flew to the other side of the world in search of new experiences and to immerse ourselves in other cultures, nothing we did on our trip was much different from what we do at home. Life for us was pretty much exactly the same, with a few tweaks, as we followed a similar daily schedule that included many of the same activities. For instance: Starting the day with…

Wow. Who knew I had so much to say? (Stop raising your collective hands, smartypantses, that was a rhetorical question.) Almost exactly one year ago today, I became a columnist for the Oakton Patch, thanks to editor Nicole Trifone finding my blog and taking a chance that the good people of Oakton might actually read something titled “At Home with Brutalism.” (My initial submission choice for the column title, “Brutalism at home” was rejected. Thank goodness for conscientious editors.) And every Wednesday since then, I have had the pleasure — nay, the responsibility — of delving tirelessly …

I’m fortunate that my in-laws live so close. (No, I’m not drinking as I write this…why do you ask?) What I mean is that we can often rely on my husband’s parents to stay with our daughter when we want to go out for a few hours. It’s good quality time for them and our daughter, and I estimate this arrangement has saved us about $3 billion over the past five years. (Give or take.) With babysitters now earning anywhere from $10-$15 an hour to watch one child, it makes me want to travel back in time to visit the teenage me who accepted $1 per hour to babysit up to four children, hold her down, …

Last Tuesday was our first day of kindergarten. As expected, there was a sleepless night the evening before, nervous anticipation about what the new teacher and classroom would be like, and inevitably, a few tears during the drop off.   But I’m OK now, thanks. I assumed this year was not going to be much of a transition because my daughter is attending kindergarten at the same place she’s gone to preschool for the past two years. She knows (and loves) the director and teachers and has lots of good friends in her class. Everything is familiar and comfortable and she tells me all the time she …

So, I did it. I finished the half marathon for which I began training two and a half months ago — and in record time, too. (The record being a personal worst rather than a personal best, but record-breaking nonetheless.) This was the longest race in which I’ve competed since undergoing knee surgery three years ago, and the fact that I finished it smiling and injury-free was far more exciting than receiving my finisher’s medal at the end of the race. No, it wasn’t.                                          The race was the denouement of an action-packed weekend: On Friday, my family and I rode …

Last week in this column, I admitted to being horrible in crisis situations. So you’d think that when we were facing our second natural disaster in less than a week, that I would have either a) fled to Canada or b) stocked up on 90 days’ worth of rations like every single other person in the Washington, D.C., metro area. And yet, I didn’t. Don’t get me wrong – I’m a planner. At any given time, we have a six-month supply of toilet paper in our linen closet. When we were first married and my husband realized I required this toilet paper security blanket, he mocked me. Twelve years of marriage (…

If there is any good thing that results from a natural disaster or crisis, it is that leaders emerge, people display an unusual capacity for compassion and kindness, and everyone seems to go out of their way to help their fellow human beings. Most people, anyway. When the 5.8 earthquake hit Oakton yesterday, I was sitting in my office at work. No one knew what was happening until a co-worker informed us with no small amount of urgency that we were experiencing an earthquake. She authoritatively told us to stay out of doorways and to step away from the windows. People listened and took cover, …

This week, our lovely little burg ranked No. 36 in the Top 100 places to live in the United States list created by Money magazine. My husband and I have now lived in Oakton for more than 10 years, and we’d have to agree it is a fantastic place to live, though we might debate its placement that far down the list. I mean, sure, we did have a hiccup a couple of years ago when although the commonwealth of Virginia was found to be in the Top 10 porn-using states in this fine country of ours, Oakton actually came in dead last in terms of porn-using zip codes within the state. Additionally, we are (…

To begin, let’s go ahead and make some clarifications: Hacking is wrong. Hacking can be justified if the outcome is entertaining. It is important to keep these tenets in mind when reviewing some recent examples of funny and unfunny hacking successes: News of the World hacking into telephone voicemail to find stories: not funny. (Although, angry protester subsequently trying to throw pie into the face of Rupert Murdoch: textbook funny.) Hacking into someone’s bank account and using their financial information for personal gain: not funny. Attending the Black Hat Conference and allegedly …

On Sunday night, my husband, daughter and I took my mom and her husband to see Dolly Parton in concert at her sold-out Wolf Trap show. When I mentioned this on my blog yesterday, a commenter noted, “I’m actually a big Dolly fan myself. I think she is an amazing and unbelievably talented artist. We’re talking about Dolly, the cloned sheep, right?” I replied, “I’m referring to the blonde one that a lot of hillbilly men lust after. So, really … it could be either one.” I bought tickets to the concert under the guise of a birthday gift for my mom, but truth be told, I love Dolly. (The artist, …

The economy is certainly taking its time to rebound and, according to a Money magazine article I recently read, this is probably my fault. The author noted that consumer spending is what helps the economy recover. And I hate shopping. Truly, I hate it. With a hatred I normally reserve for movie sequels, boy bands, and restaurants that sell drinks called “Megaritas.” I should clarify: I hate shopping in malls. I would rather do almost anything than spend time in a mall, and cannot understand how people actually enjoy spending their free time wandering around inside these windowless, soulless …

After more than 10 years together, I can’t take it anymore. I toss and turn all night, I wake up cranky and unrested — I’m not sleeping at all and it is because of sharing a bed. There’s the snoring, the space hogging, the need to be touching me the entire night. And that doesn’t even take into consideration the times he throws up on the duvet cover. I’m talking, of course, about my cat, Seamus. I realize this is my fault because I let him sleep in our bed. But to my credit, I assumed the arrangement was going to be temporary, something we allowed while he worked through his grief. You see, …

Oh, sure. It started out as something fun with which to experiment … an innocent pastime that made me feel like I was embracing life and expanding my horizons by signing on to try new things. But it quickly turned into something more than that — something that quickly spun out of control. I believe I now have a full-fledged Groupon addiction, which is second only to Zima in terms of embarrassingly shameful dependencies you’d be required to disclose in rehab. My overuse of this coupon site has become so rampant that “Groupon” is now a dirty word in our household. (Picture us doing Triumph the …