I was nervous when my oldest kid turned three, because I’d read that that’s around the age when most of us embed our first long-term memories.
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I was nervous when my oldest kid turned three, because I’d read that that’s around the age when most of us embed our first long-term memories.
Neither of my kids has ever eaten a school cafeteria meal — never, ever.
Holy hell. My oldest kid has started middle school.
Eleven-year-old Birke Baehr recently was the youngest of a group of mostly teens who presented their big ideas at the inaugural TEDxNextGenerationAsheville event.
September is Hunger Action month, which sounds like the title of a Steven Seagal movie, but it’s not. It’s pretty damn serious. Especially for our kids.
It’s time again for that funkiest and most family-friendly of Asheville street fests: the Lexington Avenue Arts & Fun Festival.
I wore a school uniform for eight years, and, for the most part, it worked for me. I jumped out of bed at the last possible minute, threw on the same outfit as the previous day, grabbed breakfast and went to school.
Free-range isn’t just for chickens anymore. Nowadays, free-range also refers to a way of raising kids. To briefly recap from a column I wrote a few weeks back: Free-range parents tend to give their kids lots of age-appropriate independence. They step back and let the young ‘uns learn from experience. The basic idea is to
This summer constitutes the shortest break ever for most of the schools in Western North Carolina (at least for students in the public school systems).
I had the best weekend ever. I mean, really. Cause we were, like, packing for the beach? And you know when you have kids? And you’re going on a trip? And you have to pack for, like, three people and a dog?
What flies out the window for moms after that first baby is birthed? A whole lot. That damn stork drops off the baby then takes off with stuff like sleep and exercise.
If I personally were to tip toward a specific personality disorder, it’d most certainly be paranoia.
Have any moms you know suddenly stopped eating garlic? Are they looking pale and a bit lovelorn? Are they carrying around door-stopper-sized books with black covers? If so, they just might be Twilight Moms.
Are you a “helicopter” or “lawnmower” parent? Or do you identify as a “free-range” or “slow” parent?
I’m writing this from a sun-drenched island in South Georgia. At the moment, I’m inside, hiding from the midday sun, yet I’m still gooey with sunscreen. Sunscreen that I recently discovered might cause cancer — not prevent it.
Our kids understand that we’re trashing the earth. A 2009 poll revealed that one in three of those aged 6 to 11 fears an apocalypse in their lifetimes. Rightly so.
I’m a hypocrite. I do and say things that I don’t want my kids to emulate.
President Barack Obama’s and First Lady Michelle Obama’s spring break visit to Asheville personally inspired me to eat ribs at 12 Bones Smokehouse (not that I needed an excuse). The first couple’s visit also inspired Buncombe County Commissioner Holly Jones to a healthier, albeit somewhat less tasty, goal.
Manners and proper etiquette were huge topics of conversation in my house growing up — often rising above politics, religion and even football as important discussion fodder.
May seems to jumpstart Western North Carolina’s summer season — what with local festivals happening practically every weekend, tourists appearing in smallish droves, and the winding down of the academic year. Oh, and the Tourists, as in the Asheville Tourists, are back in the ballpark. Which brings me to my topic for this week: cool, […]
Raise your hand if you, your kids, or someone you know learned to swim at the Asheville YWCA under the tutelage of Jean Coile and her teaching staff.