Ladies, I have news. I have fallen helplessly in love. The object of my affection is a 26-year old with great legs, who is sometimes low-key and occasionally high strung. During the past three months I’ve wanted to be at his side constantly, and he’s happily obliged. No, I haven’t fallen in love with an Ashton Kutcher lookalike, but rather with the used Baldwin upright that’s been sitting in my living room since August. I’m smitten.

I actually fell for this piano decades ago, before I even had it in my possession. Since I was a little girl, I had wanted to play. I asked my parents for lessons, but they couldn’t afford them, and they certainly couldn’t come up with the cash for a piano. Then, as the years went by, I swore I would learn on my own, but somehow it never happened. I blamed the lack of time. The lack of money. The fact that, no matter how hard I practiced, it was just too late to get to Carnegie Hall. So I lived my musical life inside my head, because, well, … //READ MORE

My 8-year-old was the first to voice his exhaustion. “Mommy, just how many Buddhas do we have to see in Thailand?” Granted, it was a sweltering 98 degrees in Bangkok and we were probably on our ninth temple of the day. Before that, we’d chased Buddhas throughout the southern part of the country, where it was equally hot and humid. And prior to arriving in Bangkok, we’d traveled around Japan catching even more glimpses of the Enlightened One. The Great Buddha in Kamakura, Japan, which towers over sightseers, was probably my children’s favorite. And, in their view, a great place to end the Buddha tour.

But no chance of that, kids, now that we were in Thailand for five days and the Buddhas here were as plentiful as the Pad Thai. Not to mention the fact that Mommy, a self-declared Buddhist-in-training, was armed with a map and a determination to see just how powerful this figure reigns in Thai culture. … //READ MORE

I don’t know about you, but I have never worn perfume. For one thing, I have no idea how to select one. And for another, I hate the thought of shelling out $120 for two ounces of Chanel No. 5, Carolina Herrera 212 or Snoop Dogg—err Snoop Lion 69. OK, I just made up that last one, but it’s probably just a matter of time before Snoop (now Snoopzilla?) actually does launch his own fragrance.

But I digress. This story is not about perfume, but about what happens at the perfume counter. So one day not so long ago, I go a moderately upscale department store to buy a birthday present for a single friend. This friend is a girly girl, someone whose bedroom is more of a budoir, complete with a plush headboard and, on her bureau, all sorts of pretty potions arranged on a delicate glass tray. I cannot relate to that, because since having kids the most prominent decorative accents in my bedroom are stray Legos and mounds of laundry. But my friend likes to wear this particular fragrance, so I figure this gift is a no-brainer. I bring my 5-year-old son along and plop him down on one of those tall, revolving stools that overlook the cosmetics counter. He’s a pretty well-behaved kid, but as soon as he sees … //READ MORE

My husband is a risk-taker. He’s not the kind of person who’ll bet against the stock market or jump out of an airplane, mind you. He takes small, everyday risks that usually don’t result in bodily injury or catastrophe, but can turn out to be a magnificent pain in the ass.

For instance, he seems to enjoy riding around in a car equipped with less than a hundredth of a tank of gas. No, he’s not pulling a Richie Cunningham, conniving to run out of fuel so we’ll be forced to pull over to the side of the road and neck. (We should only be so randy these days.) It’s just that he honestly doesn’t get supremely worried about anything until sirens go off and lights flash around him. As it often happens, I’m nervously pointing at the fuel indicator that’s edging toward “Empty,” begging him to find a gas station, and he’s telling me to relax, because “we can still go at least 12 miles before we run out.” It’s like fighting about money, sex, or the status of the toilet seat lid … //READ MORE

Those of us who are still out there in the market love to swap stories about all the quirky crimes men commit before, during and after a date. Admittedly, our critiques begin before we even meet them, as we voyeuristically search their online profiles for their selfies—self portraits taken while they’re staring into the bathroom mirror or posing in their geek caves—and then rip them apart for their poor judgment and reality-show-worthy depictions (come on, we all do it). Then, when we actually meet up with one of these guys, we may be subjected to all kinds of interesting behavior that gives us more complaint fodder: ungentlemanly manners, booty calls, delays in returning phone calls, not having a plan for the first date (“Uh, so what do you want to do tonight?”), or even learning that the guy has dated everyone we know. By this time, we have an endless number of stories to exchange with our girlfriends.

At some point I had to ask myself: Are we women just as bad? Are guys just as analytical and dumbfounded about our behavior? I decided to find out by asking my male friends and former dates to reveal their biggest pet peeves about us. Here are their top … //READ MORE

Admit it, there are times when you feel off-balance and frazzled. Maybe you’re running late for work, can’t find a parking space or just spilled a cup of coffee on your new skirt. Perhaps you just had an argument with your partner that left you flustered and overly emotional. Or maybe you’re stuck in traffic with a screaming baby in the backseat. Whatever the scenario, you feel like your world is spiraling out of control and need to pull yourself together—fast.

As a yoga practitioner and teacher, I’ve learned there’s no one formula for every person. But each one of us has the creativity and resourcefulness to come up with strategies to help calm themselves through life’s less-than-perfect moments. To get you started thinking about it, here are some simple strategies that can help most women quiet their monkey mind—the incessant chatter that goes on inside our heads—and regain clarity. Even when it seems like the universe is conspiring against us. … //READ MORE