For the first time since Pet Rocks were hot in 1975, I got caught up in a toy craze.
That 18-wheeler barreling down the mountainside at us, with no runaway truck ramp in sight, is another holiday season. Let’s just hope the truck is loaded with Christmas trees.
Every once in a while I feel guilty about not volunteering at my kids’ school more often. That’s when I make the mistake of blurting out half-baked ideas. Ideas like: “Hey, I want to help the fifth-graders produce a school newspaper.”
The spine-tingling thrill of watching people wandering around dressed up as monsters and villains makes me happy. What makes me less tingly is the rampant consumerism around Halloween.
My family discovered Jeff Kinney’s books several months ago — long after most of the 9-12-year-old set—and we’ve become Wimpy Kid addicts. These books are the first young adult books that speak to all four of us — kids and adults alike.
Breaking news: President Obama’s approval rating plummets in elementary schools around the country. Why? He wants to steal summer vacation.
There’s more good news on the health benefits of beer, especially for women. A recent study reveals that those of us who drink beer regularly have stronger bones than those who don’t.
Supporting a family member with autism is a full-time, often life-long challenge.
Here we go again. We’ve cleaned out the “bad” plastics from the cupboard. We’ve taught our kids not to use plastics or plastic wrap in the microwave. We’ve replaced sippy cups and plastic water bottles with metal drinking bottles. But wait. Those metal drinking bottles that have been marketed as eco-friendly and non-harmful? Not safe, either.
I fully expect that, if one person in my family contracts the flu, we probably all will, and dressing up like a character from Scrubs while dispensing acetaminophen to the kids isn’t going to keep me healthy. So here’s what I bought for our home flu kit.
While us parents are wandering around humming, “School, glorious school,” our kids are caught up in a state of what I call “dreadcitement.” They’re both dreading and excited about, anxious over and anticipating the start of a new school year.
Parenting when you’re sick or in pain can be difficult. Most of us have to just muddle through the burden of taking care of kids while trying to heal ourselves.
The amount of designated screen time is an ongoing kid vs. adult battle in my household. During the school year, my kids are allowed one hour per day, though they rarely have time even for that when school’s in session.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about pets and death. Perhaps because I’ve had a number of friends who’ve recently lost long-time family pets. Perhaps because Biscuit (our dorkie-poo mutt) recently used our canoe as a springboard to jump the fence and follow us down to Asheville Pizza & Brewing.
Regardless of what my kids need or want, whether or not they can get it themselves, or whether or not they easily can ask another adult for help, they always, always, always ask me first. And nine times out of 10, the first three words out of their puerile mouths are, “Mom, can you…?”
Last year, visions of natural disasters, girl-eating bears and murky ponds freaked me out. This year, it’s the interloper otherwise known as the swine flu.
Here’s a list of some of my favorite kid movies. Some of these I saw first as a kid myself; some as an adult. But I’d watch any one of them again now — with or without my kids.
I felt like I was suffocating. Worst case scenarios spun through my head. I remembered reading that in abduction situations, the first three hours are crucial.
Now that the joy of no school has faded into that perpetual, annoying chorus of “Mom, what are we going to do today?”, I’m searching for entertainment.
Many of you already are showing your concern about these draconian cuts by showing up at rallies, writing letters, signing petitions and calling state legislators. But more of us need to dive into the churning waters of state budget policy to protect education and our kids’ future.
I often refer to laundry as the Sisyphean stone of parenthood. It’s the number one never-ending chore of parenting. Number two, after laundry, comes grocery shopping.