Love More, Judge Less
I am reaching the stage of parenting where I have to really show my kid the “ropes.” At almost 6, she is starting to do a lot of “big kid” things. Like tying her shoes, reading, and riding a bike. And, unlike crawling, walking, and other more instinctual human activities, most of these things are
When I was growing up (for the record, I cannot believe I’m old enough to begin a sentence with those words!!), we didn’t have cell phones. Not, like, kids didn’t have them. Nobody had them, as they had not yet been invented. The best chance of tracking down doctors, or spouses kept on short leashes,
The following is a guest post from Laura Stott. Laura is a wife, mom to a seven-year-old and four-year-old, and a high school history teacher on the shoreline, where she also grew up. She loves being near the beach and the woods, and having deep roots, though she wishes all of her family were closer.
“What’s wrong baby?”
“Mama, I need to poop.”
My first thought was literally, “Oh crap.”
The Hamilton soundtrack has been in heavy rotation in our house for several months now, partly in preparation for a planned Broadway adventure on Lili’s upcoming birthday – but mostly because it’s awesome. Lili digs the varied genres of music incorporated into the score, I enjoy the history and creative wordplay. Two songs have felt
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
Every morning, I wake up in bed with 3 guys, a girl, one turtle and several rabbits. Far from a sordid arrangement, the reality is closer to a cramped and sometimes stinky circus that includes me, my husband, our toddler and dogs, along with a few of my son’s current favorite stuffed animals. We never planned
So, this parenting thing. It’s a learning process for sure. For her and for me. I have to step up the teaching. And not take it personally when she points out my missteps. Because I’ll continue to make them.
Four years ago today, a tiny baby boy with an incongruously long name made me a mommy.
Every mother is convinced her child is exceptional. The difference between me and other mothers, however, is that I have supporting data to back it up.
