I’m convinced that children don’t need mp3 or iPods, or any fancy electronic toys, no latest action figures or talking/walking/scary toys. All children seemingly need is a few blank sheets of paper (or white walls, if your kid’s into that kind-of thing), endless access to crayons/markers and enough empty boxes to choke a dinosaur. And maybe a package of diapers and wipes (which they can use to endlessly torture us with while undoing, stacking, restacking, unfolding, sticking, wiping and washing (...Read More)

For three solid weeks, I endured one illness after another. My six-year-old unfortunately is “that kid” that goes to school healthy but comes home with every bug on the block, which then further infects others in our home—usually my two toddlers. And when toddlers get sick, it’s pretty much like pandemonium on steroids. How do you control the snot-factor? The sneezing and coughing? How do you control the poop and the puke? You can’t. They simply don’t understand what is (...Read More)

Why is it that the second a New Year rolls around, everyone is all up-in-arms about improving their life and creating some ridiculous checklist advocating for change, condemning the previous year as a failure and vowing “this year will be different.” Why the hell do we do that to ourselves? No wonder we’re a depressed society. We fail every year, and set ourselves up for failure every time. I won’t make a list of “resolutions” – as if I’m resolving (...Read More)

Girls are inherently born with a sense for fashion (most girls, anyway). By the time they reach their teen years, it’s about putting together an ensemble, hair and make-up just so. You can’t pick out their clothes anymore, much less buying without their thumbs-up, they have to choose for themselves, to be in-style or “what’s cool” (because, parents are, like, so totally not cool). But in the early years - toddler, to be exact - at the age where you (...Read More)

My oldest son is playing tackle football this season. A sport I love to watch professionally (GO STEELERS!), but to watch one of my children play? Gulp. I see the tackles, the injuries, the blood, the pulled muscles, the torn ACLs all the time on TV. Trying to imagine my son ever enduring something of that sort sends me into a ball of tears, mumbling for my mother in a corner. He’s always been a soccer player, playing for as (...Read More)