BLOG: Sentences and Syllables

Local blogger Adrienne Kerman reflects on Mother's Day.

Moms Talk

It's Elementary, My Dear

Or at least it used to be.

This column originally appeared on Brookline Patch in March 21, 2011. It has been updated and is running again in response to a recent push by local educators to get parents involved in math initiatives.  I used to do well in math. I have an (unfortunately) very distant memory of getting A's in elementary school math. But that was a long time ago, before two plus two stopped equaling four. It starts out innocently enough. I’ll be making dinner, screeching James Taylor into the spatula, minding my own off-tuned business, when I hear IT. The eight words that bring instant alarm and dread to my gut. “Mom, I need help with my math homework.” How hard can sixth grade math be? I was eleven when I graduated that particular grade. I can do this. I…

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What A Mother Does: Doers

Moms Talk looks at what a mother does.

Last week I wrote about how a mother does. She does a lot. Some of my favorite Moms Talkers immediately wrote in adding some of the very special things they do, contributing to a list long enough to wrap itself around the world in a hug. Here are their voices: Kristi G. Reads the same book over, and over, and over... Trying to do it with enthusiasm each time no matter how tired she is of that “Sam I Am,” hoping it will encourage her child's budding love of reading. Rosemarie Harper erin o Stands in line for 7 hours in the wee hours of the morning with her son to get him the latest Harry Potter book. JP I remember staying up at night with my daughter after she had night terrors ... just holding her and singing to her and telling her stories…

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A Mother Does

A mother is as a mother does ...

While web surfing the other day I came across a poll that asked, “What is a mother?” As the writer of a column entitled Moms Talk, I’d like to think I could answer that question lickety-split. Then the poll continued, “What encompasses the parameters of a mother?” Huh? First of all, I don’t think a mother has any parameters. No boundaries, no limits, nothing to confine her, or her love. Second of all, I’m not sure the most accurate way to phrase the initial question is to ask what a mother is. I think the truer question would be to ask what a mother does. That I can answer … A mother, If you're a mother, then you can continue this list for miles. Tell me what you do in the comment section below. I’ll post your responses in next week’s …

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Moms Talk

Dad’s Talk: Date Night at the Ball Park

No, not that ball park, but a fantastic alternative for the whole family to enjoy.

On Saturday, the Red Sox equipment van pulled out of Fenway Park on its journey to Florida and spring training 2012. My sons were practicing curveballs in the back yard and the excitement of spring baseball and a new Red Sox season came upon me. It made me remember a particular date night when I took my wife, Adrienne, to her first minor league baseball game. At the time, we lived in Newburyport with our twin toddlers and I was writing a sports column for the local newspaper. I wanted to write a piece on the Lowell Spinners, the Red Sox minor league affiliate. My wife Adrienne, who would watch a House Hunters rerun over the Super Bowl, was happy to tag along on anything that involved hiring a babysitter and leaving the house. She brought a…

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Moms Talk

Pecking at my Reflection

What do you do when you have a child who’s just like you?

There is a beautiful wild turkey that hangs out in a tall tree (yes, tree) in our back yard. He’s wandered the streets and yards of our neighborhood for almost two years now, somehow eluding the jaws of the Corey Hill Coyotes. He’s become so familiar with us he no longer puffs up at the bursts of loud sound forever emitting from our house.  This turkey has a routine that brings him pecking at our back door several times a week. We love this. It’s so funny to see the turkey right there on our doorstep, politely knocking to gain entry. Of course the boys want to open the door, and even I considered it for a crazy moment, before I remembered… turkeys can be mean. Then we realized he didn’t want to visit with us at all, he was merely pecking …

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Moms Talk

Death by Chair Legs

Who knew?

Did you know you are supposed to clean the legs of your wooden chairs? You can be honest, no one’s judging you here. Well I didn’t know, until the day I came home from work to find our housekeeper squirting lemon-fresh Pledge on the curvy-carved veneers of my wannabe French Country chairs. Is this something people do? Sure, if a glob of spaghetti sauce dropped on the chair, I’d give it a swipe, but otherwise it’s safe to say I’ve never given the those chair legs a thought. Seriously, do they even get dirty? I did what I always do when I’m stumped. I called my mother, and sure enough, yes, you should occasionally give attention to the chairs legs. It appears dirt and dust can accumulate there just like anywhere else. Go figure. This is why …

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Marian Ferro

2:29 am on Saturday, February 4, 2012

Loved the article! I'm glad to know I'm not the only one with that attitude toward cleaning. About how much does it cost to hire someone to clean a house? I'd love to do that, but doubt that I could afford it. And when the person saw my house, she'd probably immediately double her rate!   more ›

Moms Talk

The Great Divide

One 42-year-old woman. Two twelve-year-old boys. Could there be a greater cultural divide?

In her book, Letter to my Daughter, Maya Angelou writes about a dinner party she attended on her first visit to Sengal at the home of a famous actress. As Angelou observed her opulent surroundings and the elegant guests milling about, she noted they were all—every single one of them—carefully avoiding the luxurious Persian rug so beautifully laid out in the middle of the floor. Not one person walked or stood on it. Angelou became appalled for her fellow guests. She could not believe her hostess could be so discourteous as to place an object above her guests’ comfort and convenience. Angelou (never the wallflower) acted. She stepped right onto that rug and proudly “walked back and forth several times.” The guests, who were “bunched up on …

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Adrienne Kerman

7:32 pm on Monday, January 23, 2012

thanks!!!   more ›

Moms Talk

The Terrible Tale of the Two-Headed Toddler

How are you in a crisis?

One morning when the boys were two years old, I went to check on them in their cribs. Both boys were standing up, arms stretched out to me, so darn adorable with their matching feet pajamas and big gap-toothed smiles, keen and eager to start the day. But wait, something wasn’t right. I did a double take. For a minute I thought I was trapped in a warped and nightmarish version of Sesame Street’s "One of These Things is Not Like the Other." It appeared one of my twins had grown an extra head. Overnight, he had developed a baseball-sized lump over his eye that was so large it squooshed his eye into a barely perceptible slit. It was terrifying to look at. The son in question was blissfully unaware. He just wanted to be sprung from his cage so …

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Adrienne Kerman

1:37 pm on Tuesday, January 17, 2012

So funny, Wendy ... how fortunate you are to have a doctor in the house, he'd never get any rest at our house! :-) Have a great week!   more ›

Moms Talk

Dads Talk: Pinging and Ponging at MIT

A father and sons adventure in Cambridge.

I’m so proud!  My twin boys and I are heading to MIT. What a thrill it is to know my children will be dwelling within the same four walls of some of the world’s greatest thinkers. They will be competing with our future scientists and Nobel Prize winners. Clearly, reading them the "Origin of Species" during their time in the womb has paid off.  As we pulled up to campus, my 11-year-old geniuses were deep in thought, while attempting to rip out each other’s gall bladder to be the first one out of the car. My one son dove through the car window to be the first one to touch sidewalk.  Who am I to judge such brilliance? As reality kicked in, I remembered that we were at MIT to compete in a ping-pong tournament.  Actually, it’s officially called…

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