It’s time again to look back on some of the memorable moms of the past year.

I’m feeling a mite bit grumpy this holiday season. I haven’t had time to shop or bake cookies or plan any holiday events. That’s part of my problem. But there are other holiday irritants (in addition to the Fraser fir next to my desk that I may be allergic to). I’m hoping that if I identify the stuff that’s turning me into a parenting Grinch, we can all commiserate together, purge the poison and find some pleasure in the holidays.

Every now and again, I ask my kids what they think I should write about. Recently, my 10-year-old replied, “You should write about how parents should spend more time with their kids.” Uh-oh, I thought.

The 7 billionth person on earth was born on Halloween, according to the United Nations. The UN chose a symbolic baby, giving the title to baby Danica of the Philippines, although a little girl named Nargis, born in Utter Pradesh, India, was also chosen. Perhaps she’s 7,000,000,001. In actuality, a number of other babes in other countries also were celebrated as potentially being the 7 billionth.

There seems to be another baby boom happening here in Asheville (cold winters equal fall bundles of joy). I was thinking about all the baby stuff necessary to care for a bambino, and more importantly, all the baby stuff that parents think is necessary that truly is a waste of money.

The modern day take on Samhain has given me an excuse to load up on crappy candy that I’d never buy otherwise. It also gives me the excuse to wear outrageous outfits and decorate my house with bones and dead things. In past years, I’ve written about child obesity and dental decay, costume drama and expense, and the dangers of letting one’s kids take candy from strangers. But this year, I’ve decided to let go and embrace the decadence of Halloween, especially since I live in the Cesspool of Sin.

The bad news is that, despite all our 21st-century technology, humans still get head lice. The good news is that Asheville now has a certified lice removal service that can rid us of the critters using natural products and the old-fashioned but highly effective method of nit combing.

Barney the Dinosaur turned out to be a registered sex offender (well, the third dude who dressed up in the purple costume). Speaking of purple, there’s Tinky Winky the Teletubby, whose triangular antenna supposedly symbolizes gay pride. Not to mention the psychedelic qualities of both that show and the funky Yo Gabba Gabba. Then there’s Hannah Montana, whose wardrobe could dress a streetwalker. What are parents to do about kids’ television programming? Never fear, Glenn Beck has come to the rescue.

I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. I’ve considered deleting my account on several occasions because, believe it or not, I’m a pretty private person. Though I sometimes find it fascinating to see what people I knew 20 years ago are doing now. Oftentimes, they were more interesting in my imagination than they are in reality (I’m not talking about you, of course). That said, now I’m stuck with Facebook as long as my daughter has a Facebook page.

I have a huge celebrity crush on chef Jamie Oliver. He’s a Dad who cooks like a madman and he’s started a “food revolution” to help combat the U.S. obesity epidemic. Even though Oliver is British — he loves America. What’s not to crush on?

“Eat your veggies!” It’s a refrain that rings out in homes all over the country at least once each day. Well, in most homes with kids.

Another summer’s almost over here in Western North Carolina. Asheville City School students return to school on August 16 — which means it’ll still feel like summer in terms of heat, but it won’t feel like summer for the young ‘uns spending all day sitting in classrooms. But we still have a couple weeks left of sweaty boredom, afternoons at the pool, summer camps, forced summer reading and juggling adult work schedules. Between all that, here are some last minute, inexpensive summer fun activities that you can check out with your kids.

If you insist on chaperoning your kids to Bele Chere yourself, you’re clearly a better person than me. For you better people, I’ve come up with a few tricks to make the experience more bearable based on the past times when I felt it was my parental duty to take my progeny to the festival.

Without further ado, here’s 10 things I give you parents permission not to waste your time worrying about…

Here in Asheville, people seem to think it’s OK to take their babies (and their dogs) wherever they want. Just know that some people (OK, me) might get feisty when your baby, whom you thought was going to sleep for another hour, wakes up and starts screaming during the climax of an R-rated movie.