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Fit by Association

My husband once accused me of lying in bed and dreaming up ways to injure our children. “How about a zip line?” I suggested to Scott one morning over coffee. That very afternoon our medium-sized daughter bounded off the bus…

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All Talk

New research out of Toronto confirms what I’ve been telling myself and my husband – loudly and repeatedly – for many years now. Talking to yourself is not a bad thing. In fact, these brilliant Canadian scientists say that “using…

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Good Car-ma

  It was a case of mistaken pedal identity. The age-old accelerator versus brake puzzle. That’s what the nice lady said as she clambered from the mid-sized SUV that had crashed through the fence moments before and was now kissing…

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Balancing Act

  “You know, none of this stuff was even on my list,” I overheard my medium-sized daughter tell her older sister after the Christmas morning dust had settled. She sounded a little miffed. I don’t remember the year (eight maybe?)…

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Parents First

A few years back, we were so completely consumed with life – attending back-to-school nights, planning Halloween costumes, working on a parenting magazine, managing a myriad of important fall commitments – that we just forgot about our wedding anniversary. It…

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Just You Wait

Sleeping through the night at eight weeks. Nursing like a champ every four hours. Potty training at two. “This one’s reading all the baby books,” the pediatrician joked. He meant the baby, not me. My mother maintains God gave my husband…

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What it Takes

  The teacher all three of my women-children agree is the best they’ve ever had, admits he hated school when he was a kid. “And I was a lousy student!” he adds as a dramatic exclamation point. At first, I’m a…

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Charity Begins at Home

About a month ago, I made a list. Empty waste cans. Sort whites. Scrub toilets. Clean bedrooms. Unload dishwasher. Dismantle the stockpile of shoes in the utility room that had recently begun to rival the pile of laundry. There were about ten…

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Dad for All Seasons

  “He’s here! He’s here! Paula’s date is here!” Our voices rang out like a trumpet fanfare. My father had already pushed the furniture to the walls, clearing a path through our living room to the front entrance hall. The…

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Model Mom

My daughter took a bite of her oatmeal and glared at me. “Is that your breakfast?” At four, she had already mastered the art of raising one eyebrow in judgment. At that moment, she looked more like my mother than…

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