It goes without saying that when you travel with children, especially babies or toddlers, your chance for "relaxation" is about a snowball's chance in hell. Take heed, dear reader: You must answer "yes" to all five questions before you start making family-travel plans.
"Ya can't learn nuthin' with yer mouth open." My grandpa taught me that. I'm still trying to practice that wise piece of counsel. He also taught me that there's always a job diggin' ditches and that I "ain't above it." Neither are you.
I never thought I'd have to explain the events to my own children one day. But here I am, 13 years and two kids later, wondering what to say to them.
Let's just say that children do not do what we say, they do what we do. If you are not liking the behavior of your children, maybe it is time to take a look in the mirror.
Each year, I sit here on September 11th and feel a deeper sense of grief as the stories I learn feel closer and closer to me. The stories only grow stronger in quantity and in depth; and every year I can't seem to shake it.
My toddler screeches with joy at meeting another 2-year-old. She holds his hand as they take big steps up the stairs to the slide, the picture of cuteness. She waits at the top of the slide for her new friend to sit down, too, so they can slide down together.
I believe we need to think of our house as a home, as a refuge, as an outreach, as a place of belonging and security. It is not ours to hoard, but ours to share.
If you have kids in organized sports I'm sure you'll agree they have learned these lessons and many others besides making lasting friendships with teammates and invaluable memories of childhood.
As a parent, I have to admit a guilty secret that I have been carrying all summer. It is one that I am not so proud of, but I will continue to wear the cloak of shame unless I get this off of my chest. Over the summer, my kids had fun.
I was raised in a small town in Kansas where I learned to read, write and politely answer stranger's number one question, "Where's Toto?" But my real education didn't begin until I left the borders of my own country.
In February 2006, I started over with an empty refrigerator, two children, two months of outstanding mortgage payments and $120.00.
Your tummy, the one you told Daddy is "fat," is actually perfect. It's the place I lay my head when I want to feel secure, at peace and taken care of. It has the perfect amount of warm padding I need to feel safe when I'm scared, calmed when I'm upset or relaxed when I'm tired.
Why do we struggle so to say NO? We don't want our kids to be mad at us. We don't want to disappoint them. We don't want to sit in the blistering storm of their rage.
How do we do this every day, when there is no guarantee? No promise of a future, or of grandchildren on our laps, no cure for cancer, no special bubble wrap that can protect our children? We let them go each day, small pieces of our hearts with goals and a will all their own.
Each Monday this past year I took a few extra minutes and put a special note in my daughter's lunch. She not only read every one, but she even kept a ...
Why do we make ourselves crazy trying to get kids to eat their peas, carrots and now...kale? Heck, do we even like kale? Instead of fighting a battle ...