About this column:
Elizabeth Heubeck talks Towson parenting and consumer issues. I’m generally not big on New Year’s resolutions. Thanks to my routine-driven lifestyle, I’m not a yo-yo dieter or a join-the-gym-at-the-start-of-every-year kind of person, and I've long since abandoned vestiges of my 20s' substance abuse binging. But I don’t have to dig too deep to recognize that my behavior could use some adjustments. Even if I wanted to deny them, my flaws show up in my kids. So this year, I have a few resolutions to make. In 2012, I vow to … Get organized. I had to empathize with my daughter when I read her progress report from school a few weeks ago. Her teacher wrote …
I have a bad feeling that one of my favorite holiday customs is going the way of the dinosaur. By this time most years, the railing in my living room is plastered with cards from friends near and far, wishing our family happy holidays and best wishes in the new year. Not this year. Every day for the last week, as I peek into my mailbox at the end of the day, I expect to be greeted by a last-minute onslaught of cards. So far, it hasn’t happened. As I write this, I have on display in my living room a measly couple of holiday cards—and about just as many theories about why. The simplest …
At 11, my daughter is still young enough to be convinced that it’s cool—or at least acceptable—to hang out with her mom on a Friday night, especially if one of her friends tags along. So this past Friday night, I planned an outing that would test a theory local officials have been kicking around for a few years. It’s a simple idea, really: Improving and showcasing Towson’s pedestrian-friendly commercial district. This holiday season, the Towson Chamber of Commerce has worked hard to draw people into downtown Towson for this very reason. I think they’re on to something. Over the weekend, the…
I think I’ve figured out why Thanksgiving kicks off the holiday season. We need all the nourishment we can get—be it from comfort food or the company of family and friends—to prepare for what lies ahead. This Thanksgiving, the turkey and stuffing were barely cleared from the dinner table when conversations turned to Black Friday deals and Christmas lists. I tried my best to shut my ears to it. I just wanted to linger in this pleasant state of bliss a little longer: Watching my kids run ragged with cousins they see only a few times a year, enjoying the most amazing pumpkin apple cheesecake I’d…
When was the last time you and your significant other got away—together, alone? By together, I mean just the two of you. Not a girls’ spa weekend or a guys' golf weekend or a multi-family vacation. I’m talking about just you and that person you live with, but probably see very little of on an individual basis. Bringing the kids doesn’t count. My husband I used to take quick weekend getaways fairly frequently when our kids were still in diapers. It was somehow easier when the only planned activities they’d miss were their naps (grandmothers, at least the sort that willingly watch two toddlers …
One night last week, I was mindlessly pulling cans of vegetables off the shelf at the Giant for the food drive my daughter’s class is sponsoring when I stopped suddenly, can in hand, my attention riveted to the end of the aisle. There, in front of a display of stuffing and other Thanksgiving-type food items, stood a young woman. She looked dazed. Her blonde hair was matted, her face windburn from what I guessed was excessive exposure to the elements. She stared intently at the shelf for some time. Finally she turned away, without even one bag of stuffing. As she shuffled by me, I couldn’t …
Shopping the other day, I just about melted when I glimpsed an oh-so-cute bright orange fuzzy pint-sized pumpkin Halloween costume. Halloween used to be the easiest holiday of the year at our house. Buy a couple big bargain-size bags of candy, zip up the kids in cute furry costumes of my choice, do a lap around the neighborhood collecting candy and call it a night. But now that my kids are entering the “tween” phase, Halloween’s getting a lot trickier. I realized this about a month ago, when the subject of costumes came up. My kids made it clear to me that store-bought plastic garb wasn’t …
Early in my motherhood days, I swore I would attend my kids’ every game, every meet, every recital. Now I realize that, short of chopping myself in two, I can’t always be there. Although I understand this simple fact on a cognitive level, on an emotional level it’s anything but simple. That’s especially true on a weekend like this past one, in which my son had five soccer games. I think. I lost count after three. I’m not kidding (about the number of games, or that I lost count), though I wish I were. It wasn’t my idea to have 9-year-old boys perform with the sort of stamina as if they’re …
“Been to Fresh Market yet?” asked my neighbor, referring to the new high-end grocery store across from Towson Town Shopping Center. “What’s there?” I asked. She started rattling off all the reasons I should go there: fresh meats and produce, a phenomenal bakery. “And the sauces. You’ve got to go there for the sauces,” she said. Sounds great, I told her. But I don’t think I’ll be gracing that new grocery store anytime soon—awesome sauces or not—or MOM's Organic Market, the other new grocery store in town creating a lot of buzz. I have nothing against grocery stores. In fact, I probably spend …
It was one of those incredibly uncomfortable moments. The head of my community association’s board, of which I’m a member, asked — or rather pleaded — for someone to step forward and head up the silent auction that was mere weeks away. I tried my best to make myself appear very small; invisible, actually. I sat as still as I could, doing my best to avoid eye contact with the pleading leader. But my best wasn’t good enough. After the meeting, when no one had volunteered to take on the gargantuan task, I got cornered. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a believer in community service. But I know my …
It was my daughter’s first day of school, and I was feeling confident—perhaps too confident—that we were off to a good start. She’d opted to buy lunch that day, so I didn't have to figure out what to pack. We’d agreed on an outfit the night before, minimizing last-minute wardrobe freak-outs. She even managed to fall asleep at a decent hour the night before, reducing the likelihood that she’d be sitting in class with bags under her eyes. When I waved goodbye to her that morning, I was smiling. I should have known better. Around 1:30 in the afternoon, the phone rang. Caller ID informed me that …
Had you told me before Hurricane Irene hit that the electricity would be taking a half-week hiatus from our house, I would have freaked out and made plans to hunker down elsewhere for a few days. But because in the nine-plus years we’ve lived in our house we’ve never lost power for more than a couple of hours, I felt confident our streak of luck would continue. When it didn’t, our family more than survived. It took some mental adjustments, but we soon embraced the situation, which felt a lot like living at a campground with my neighbors. During the day, kids came from all corners of the …
“I am not here to entertain you!” It’s a refrain I heard from more than one parent last week. No surprise there. By the last week of summer break, most kids are bored. Really bored. Summer sports are a distant memory. Vacations have wrapped up, as have summer camps. Not many stragglers hanging around at the pool either. What’s left? Nothing too exciting, really. In my household, I’m nagging my kids to crack their math workbooks or a book. As for outings, the only place I took my kids last week was to Staples for school supplies. Whoopee. But all this boredom is about to vanish. In its place …
Come mid-August, cousins are a welcome sight in my family. By this time of the summer, my kids have had it with one another. They have very little to say to one another, at least nothing civil. They even take to swinging at each other on occasion. But when cousins enter the picture, everything changes—for the better. Last week, I had the good fortune of getting away for a few days with my two kids, their two cousins, and my sister. I couldn’t have hand-picked a better combination of companions had I tried. My 16-year-old niece, prone to compulsions, had just found a new one: knitting. My …
I’ve always been a firm believer in separating my family life from my work life—or at least upholding the appearance of separation. But recent revelations from other working moms have me thinking that maybe I can let my guard down. The first revelation came last Monday morning. I was driving downtown for a meeting when I stopped at the bank and glanced at my cell phone. I noticed I had just missed a call, and a voice mail message was waiting. Although I was running late, I stopped and listened to it, just in case. Good thing I did. The message was from the client with whom I was supposed to …
A friend of mine had just returned from vacation with her three kids and husband. "“How was it?" I asked her. “It was a change of scenery,” she responded, trying to sound neutral while biting her tongue. Ahh, I replied. I got it. Taking a vacation with kids is an experience entirely different than, say, getting away for a girls’ weekend or spending time away with your spouse. But year after year, I somehow forget this reality, and in the weeks leading up to my family’s vacation, I anticipate it with the same amount of gusto I did during the eight-year stretch before my husband and I had kids…
Every time I look around my house, the words of wisdom a friend recently shared with me echo in my head. “You have to get a house cleaner. It’s the best money you’ll ever spend,” she gushed. Though it's been years, I have experienced the joy of a thoroughly clean house. I still remember when, every Friday afternoon during my childhood, I’d come home from school, open the door, and breathe in the lovely scent of cleaning products. The floors would be so shiny and slippery that I would immediately take off my shoes and skate across them in my socks. Every countertop was not only crumb-less, but…
I just learned that a good friend and neighbor of mine is moving. Even though I’ve suspected it for quite some time, the news still saddened me. But I can’t say it surprised me. After all, a bigger house is part of the American Dream. And the dream, or rather the size required to sustain the dream, is—for the majority of Americans—getting bigger. Consider this: Since the 1950s, the average size of the American home has doubled; it’s now about 2,400 square feet, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. The expansion has very little to do with actual need, as the average size of the American family…
I wish somebody would force me to sit down in the middle of the day, every day, to read for a half hour. Oh, what a luxury that would be. I’d plow through the newspaper, cover to cover, instead of just quickly skimming the headlines or an article that really catches my eye while I’m slugging down my morning coffee, late for some child-chaufferring duty, or rushing to get started on a work assignment. I’d dive into one of the books that sits on my nightstand, mostly getting dusty, and read more than a few pages before my lids get heavy and I give in to sleep. But not everyone recognizes this …
Sometimes, I long for the days of preschool play dates—especially when it comes to my daughter. Back then, if she and the other tot tolerated each other reasonably well and I got along with the mom, a play date was made. These days, I am no longer in the driver’s seat of my kids’ social lives, although from time to time I subtly suggest which direction I think they should take. But when their quote-unquote friends cut them off or switch directions on them without warning, leaving them bewildered, it’s all I can do to keep myself from slamming on the brakes to try and minimize the damage. For …
