Melinda Wentzel

My children have a routine when they leave the house each school day. It's a fairly logical succession of events that usually culminates with a mad dash to the bus stop, backpacks and jackets flapping as they run, their unruly manes trailing behind them. Of all the memories of motherhood...

I made a solemn vow not to tread anywhere near the Hilary Rosen/Ann Romney brouhaha that erupted recently, thrusting the infamous Mommy Wars to the fore yet again. But I simply couldn't resist. Not because I have a compelling desire to foist my views upon anyone...

I'm not especially sure that I was meant for mothering and all its rigors and responsibilities and those insufferable shades of gray. Simply put, I'm just not wired for it. I much preferred being able to place chunks of my life into neat...

I've always loved springtime -- especially the warm embrace of April. Of all the seasons, I'm inclined to say that it is my favorite. Partly because baseball is back and the school year is drawing its last breath, but mostly because it is an era awash with newness. Almost indescribably...

There are but two kinds of people in this world: those who brazenly read the endings of books before the endings are actually reached and those who would never dream of a crime so heinous. I myself fall with the masses into the latter category, always mindful of the tenets...

It's time to decorate Easter eggs -- an age-old tradition symbolizing new life. An activity infused with color, the pungent aroma of vinegar and great swells of kid-inspired, eggshell-adorning creativity, all in the name of celebrating the long-awaited rebirth of the land. By contrast, I've been celebrating the rebirth of...

Sarcasm aside, Stephen Covey should have written a book with the above-mentioned title. Not that he failed spectacularly as a father, but because people tend to more readily grasp what doesn't work, as opposed to what does. Like tightrope walking, for instance -- without a net. In a...

We have a library in our house, which sounds slightly more impressive than it actually is. The area in question is far from a sprawling expanse littered with overstuffed chairs and an abundance of narrative gems. More correctly, our so-called library occupies a modest corner of our home -- a...

Just a moment ago, my children were kindergarteners -- spindly creatures with wee arms, knobby knees and tinny voices. I remember well our maiden voyage to the school's Open House one afternoon late in August -- to the shores of Mrs. Morehart's classroom, a warm and welcoming place at the...

I've been a parent for some 8,710 days. A stunningly imperfect parent, I hasten to add. During that period of time I learned more about sleep deprivation, sibling rivalry and teen angst than I previously considered humanly possible. However, the past decade has proven to be particularly edifying. Indeed, Thing...

Some time ago, I made a solemn vow not to tread anywhere near the swirl of controversy surrounding Amy Chua and her latest contribution to the literary world, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. Given the satirical flavor of my headline, however, it should be apparent to all that I...

V is for the valiant deeds you do as a matter of course -- like traipsing through our home in the dead of night in your underwear to find the source of a sound I've tried (and failed miserably) to adequately describe, except to say that it is "most definitely...