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.

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…?”

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.

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.

Seems like yesterday I was changing diapers, while today I’m explaining the term “suicide bomber.”

The lowly chicken has been big news around town lately.

We never forget our best teachers. But do we remember to thank them for what they’ve done for us?

I’ve been seeing lots of those stick family car stickers around town, mostly on the back windows of mommy vans and stud-daddy SUVs. What’s the point of these stickers?

My angel-faced son was not quite 2 years old when the director of his church preschool called to tell me my boy had dropped a wooden block on his foot, then yelled, “S**t!”