Love More, Judge Less
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,
I knew we’d be dealing with technology issues with our kids fairly soon, now that they’re school aged. But I had thought our first-born, who is now seven, would be the one asking for a phone or something like that. Instead, the intended recipient of the text I received the other day was my younger kid, the kindergartner.
Let me start by sharing my worst kept secret: I need structure and self-imposed rules to keep my life in order. It’s very hard for me to motivate myself without a sound plan and a check list. I have accepted that it’s just how I roll. Lately, I have been more irritable and mentally exhausted. I’m sure the holidays played a
We are at a major crossroad. We are deciding whether or not to get our son a phone for his 12th birthday. It’s once of those decisions that will affect life as we know it – and once you commit, there’s no going back. I think my son is pretty responsible; he’s a good kid
