Let’s celebrate our mothers.  After all, they gave birth to the greatest generation of women in history!

Thanks to my artist daughter, Simone

My family lived right next door to my mother’s brother and his family. A center wall separated our two homes, which were mirror images of each other. If my cousin and I were in our tiny bedrooms at the same time, we could practically talk to each other through the wall.

Eleanor and FDR were fifth cousins.

Although my two sisters and I we were physically close to our three cousins growing up, we were not emotionally close. I can’t remember one single Thanksgiving we spent together, one Sunday meal, or one vacation. My parents would go out with my uncle and aunt on Saturday nights, my father played tennis with my uncle and my mother and aunt were in the same Mahjong group, but for some inexplicable reason, none of the cousins were real friends.

I remember hearing about things called Cousin’s Clubs, in the late fifties and sixties, and thinking how odd these gatherings must have been. I wonder if my sisters and I would have been closer to our cousins if we had all been encouraged by our parents to interact more.

I adore my four nephews, and I know my sisters love my children and each other’s kids. We all get together a couple of times a year (Thanksgiving, occasional dinners), but we’ve never vacationed all together or go out of our ways to promote togetherness. The cousins are not especially close.

Cousin relationships are interesting. If siblings are close, does it automatically mean their kids will be, too? Does it matter whether cousins are friends? What if they have little in common outside of their mothers’ sisterhood? Big happy extended families are great, but I’m happy just as long as all the kids are happy and healthy people. I love being close with my nephews, and hope they’ll be in my life forever. It doesn’t appear, however, that they and my children will ever be kissing cousins.

PS My maternal grandparents were first cousins!

I had a battery of five medical tests this morning that will screen for stroke and carotid artery disease, peripheral arterial disease, osteoporosis, abdominal aortic aneurysm and atrial fibrillation. Those are all fancy medical terms, some of which have to do with blood flow to the brain and the stomach, the rhythm of the heart and the density of the bones. The screenings are aimed at early identification of some pretty serious problems.

There I am, in all my glory. Notice I wear my bracelets at ALL times.

The whole bunch of tests takes less than an hour and costs $145. A company called Lifeline Screening administers them throughout the US. The apparatus is set up in a big room–usually in a church–and scores of people move from test to test in an assembly-like manner. It’s very efficient and the technicians are always pleasant.

I’ll get the results in about three weeks, although I would have been notified right away if they saw anything that needed immediate attention. I also had a blood test to determine my cholesterol and glucose readings.  They were all normal. My mom had diabetes, so I’m extra cautious about that.

I’m a big believer in Ben Franklin’s adage: “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.”

One of my biggest pet peeves is hearing someone refer to his employees as possessions. President Obama is one of the greatest culprits. “My team, my Secretary of Defense, my this and my that,” he says.

This is a kid's book by Patricia Marx, illustrations by the talented Roz Chast, who has created New Yorker cartoons for decades

We do not own the people who work for us. We may pay their salaries, but they do jobs in return. They are flesh and blood, not decorative accessories for our living rooms.

I guess there are times when saying “my” is appropriate, such as in “my husband, my daughter, my teacher and my boss.” I’m not wild, though, when someone says “my attorney” (sounds so pretentious), but “my doctor” and “my hairstylist” seem fine.

I think we need to think before we use the word “my.” A young man recently–and officiously– referred to the two people who report to his girlfriend as “her staff.” The girlfriend is all of 23. When I had a staff of 200, I referred to them as ” the editors and the salespeople,” not “my staff.”

Don’t you think it’s much classier to refer to Bill Gates as “The Secretary of Defense,” rather than “My Secretary of Defense?”