Tag Archives: parents

Ebola Mom, Part 79

(Part of the Ebola Mom series )

On Monday I sent an email to all my clients letting them know I am pregnant, and giving them a heads up about my planned maternity leave in the fall. Every single one of them responded with congratulations and well-wishes, except for Ebola Mom, who did not respond at all.

And just now I received this:



A Tired, Dehydrated People

I recently had blood work done that showed low thyroid levels, so my doctor referred me to an endocrinologist.

Endocrinologist: “Your thyroid is inflamed and operating at about 60%. You’ve likely had chronic hypothyroidism your entire life, but sometimes stress can really bring it to the surface. It likely runs in your family. Is anyone in your family ‘high-energy?'”

Me: cracking-myself-up

Endocrinologist: “So no?”

Me: “To quote my brother-in-law– ‘The Lermans are a tired, dehydrated people.'”

Endocrinologist: “You said you have 3 siblings. All low energy?”

Me: “My sister has one setting and it’s this: img_2021-6. Jeremy is essentially a bear living in eternal winter. There are times on family vacation, during his 3rd or 4th nap of the day, when I have actually leaned over and checked his pulse. Zack has spurts of energetic enthusiasm when motivated, but then needs a 16 hour slumber to recover from his efforts. He also….like….talks…..like…..this…..”

Endocrinologist: “And your parents?”

Me: “My mother moves at the pace of a snail on Valium and has the voice of a soft bird. If you’re not sitting DIRECTLY next to her, or better yet, on her lap, forget about being able to hear or understand a word she whisper-mumbles. That being said, she IS active, like socially and activity-wise. It’s just, like, a slow-motion active.”

Endocrinologist: “And your Dad?”

Me: “Can’t sit still. The one exception.”

Endocrinologist: “Your husband?”

Me: “Like a corgi puppy lapping up a dish of Red Bull. Is that even important?”

Endocrinologist: “No I’m just enjoying your descriptions. None of this matters. Your thyroid’s broken, here are some pills.”




Upper East Side Standards

Before my first session with a new client…

Parent (to her kid): “I want you to listen to everything Miss Emily says, because she went to Penn, and if you listen to her, one day you can go to a school like that, too. Wouldn’t that be so great?”

Kid: (blank stare)




Oh I See What You Did There

Parent of student: “Why isn’t her math improving more?!”

Me (aloud): “Progress takes time.”

Me (internally): “Little do you know, ‘Progress takes time’ is just my vague, polite, professional code for GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK, LADY– I see your kid one hour a week. If she doesn’t put in the effort between sessions, well…I’M NOT A GODDAMN WIZARD.”

Me: “Why aren’t I improving more?!”

Therapist: “Progress takes time.”