Love More, Judge Less
Yesterday, my seven year old said to me, “I want to play Legos upstairs.” I glanced up from my phone, and said, “ok, go ahead.” He replied, “No. With you.” WITH YOU. Both of my kids say this all the time. If they go upstairs, out in the backyard, or even to the bathroom, they want me
I first discovered the magic of horses at five years old, and, as the saying goes, we were off and running. By age seven, I (literally) landed my first pony-related concussion and sutures. Undaunted, I climbed back into the saddle the moment the doctor gave the OK. My parents were initially in some form
My perfectionist streak means that I often try to be everything to everyone. I am Super Mom. The one who always volunteers to bring snacks for soccer practice. And bakes her own bread, muffins, and pie every weekend. And makes applesauce from scratch. From apples that she picked herself. And tomato sauce from the tomatoes
“Why are you still single?” “Have you tried online dating?” “You should get yourself out there; hasn’t it been long enough?” “Don’t you want someone to be with on your kid-free nights?” “Do you think you’re being too picky?” I have been asked all of these questions by well-intentioned friends but whenever I respond, I
Teaching our children is an oft-discussed topic among parents. What and who should educate them, and which environment will provide the best platform for learning. Factors including genetics, culture, family structure and parenting styles are considered. Variables like demographics and geography find their way into the equation. We debate, we rate, we rant. We theorize, and
Helicopter parents are a readily identifiable species: Omnipresent, hovering, constantly scanning the area for dangers (both real and imagined) that might warrant swooping in to rescue their beloved child(ren). Many people know at least a few who fit that description, and some of us will recognize ourselves therein. Although I do not know if there
…a funny thing happens as you get older (besides hangovers becoming more painful): you start to prioritize things differently.
After our hike, we ate a great meal and took a pint at a rustic hiking lodge with a clear view of our mountain. I could not help but think to myself: This is the kind of person that I want to be for my daughter. This powerful, determined, caring, supportive woman. We were changed and it was good.
Seriously though, it’s part of my daily life and here’s a few other fun facts in getting to know me:
These days, most of my time is divided between wishing my toddler would talk more, and silently willing nearly everyone else to shut the f*ck up. You see, my beautiful, bright, sweet little boy has a speech delay – which, while both common and curable, is not without its own set of trials and tribulations.
