I’ve always said I’m “New York to the heart but got love for all.”

After saying that people still say I don’t seem like I’m from New York.

New York is a big state so I guess they don’t think I fit the Manhattan stereotype.

Which is true. I don’t. Thank goodness because that’d be hella bad.

I also don’t fit the Los Angeles or London stereotype.

Yes, some people throw out where they think I’m “really from” based solely on my voice.

And they come up with The Valley or Notting Hill.

Anyway, New Yorkers are supposed to be loud and unapologetic.

And I’m not. I’m guarded.

So guarded that “pulling teeth” has been used many times.

It’s ironic considering blogs are supposed to be a window into someone’s life.

And this blog started as a way to answer all the emails I received asking about my life.    

I’ve found myself sharing more on Twitter (@veepveep) more than I do here.

It’s easier for me to share something about myself in person at an event or a lunch than to do it here on my blog. Which doesn’t make any sense.

I can tell a room of 200 marketers all about me but the only true insight into my life on this blog is found on my 100 Things About Me list that was written years ago?

I don’t know why letting someone reading my blog get an impression of me based on a 100 Things list that isn’t a reflection of me now was so comfortable.

But I do know why I chose to water down posts about my children … So I don’t receive any more nasty emails than I already do.

I must give kudos to all the bloggers who don’t water it down, because I appreciate everything you share.

Even when its in its unedited, and probably “Vodka fueled oh no she didn’t just go there” glory. Ladies, you are amazing.

Thanks for inspiring me to take the Native New Yorker moxie in my heart and realize honestly believe I should no longer fear writing on my blog.

Stick around as I dip my toe in the water. (Not the Hudson people.. I’m not that brave!)

digg Del.icio.us Technorati kirtsy Yahoo My Web Stumble Upon Bloglines Email this

Someone in my son’s daycare doesn’t have their cootie shots.

So now I’m writing this blog post from my bed.

I’m home.

Typing. As my little one recovers from puking on his daycare teacher.

Fun.

Actually, ew. I feel for the woman.

And for my little boy.

It’s always lovely when your child catches something from another kid.

So I’ll be home with him trying to work in between wiping up and throwing out.

And disinfecting the entire apartment.

If I’m lucky, he’ll take a nap, and I will watch Top Chef off TiVo.

Actually the last thing I want to see is food right now.

Yeah, T minus 3 hours before I’m sick too.

Or at least until I need to change my clothes or give him a bath.

digg Del.icio.us Technorati kirtsy Yahoo My Web Stumble Upon Bloglines Email this

Tomorrow the kids will be in school while their paternal grandfather (whom they have never met) becomes a US citizen.

After decades in this country, he’s becoming a citizen and then packing up and moving (along with his wife) back to his birth place.

Unlike their grandfather, their grandmother does have an interest in knowing her grandchildren. And because my children do spend time with her this news makes me sad. Sad to know that part of their family will be far, far, far away soon. Soon meaning - probably less than a year away. Far meaning – an over 16 hour flight with a layover or two depending on the airline.

I wanted the kids to grow up equally close to my family and their father’s family. Although their paternal grandfather had absolutely no interest in a relationship with them for the past six years, I was hoping one day that would change. I truly was.

Now with a 16 hour flight between them; it doesn’t look like that will happen. And I’m so very disappointed. Disappointed that the color of my skin is the excuse this man has given for not spending time with his grandchildren. Disappointed that he would rather be an ass then get to know three sweet children.

digg Del.icio.us Technorati kirtsy Yahoo My Web Stumble Upon Bloglines Email this