It may be the most indispensable threesome you'll ever have: you, your spouse and your children's nanny. Together, you work as a team to care for and manage the daily lives of your children.
She was the cutest baby that had ever been conceived and produced by anyone, in the history of mankind. My husband said, "I'm getting the car." He didn't need to say what I already knew; this child needed to be shown off. The Universe demanded it.
Situational safety has its place. Being chronically concerned about children's safety does not. Children will get hurt.
Maybe... just maybe... doing what's in the best interests of the children means trick or treating as one giant, functionally dysfunctional, blended family full of kids, step-kids, half-brothers and sisters, stepmoms, stepdads and you and your former spouse.
How do I undo what I've done to Halloween? I don't want him to participate in trick-or-treating, but there should be joy in helping others to celebrate their holidays (like wishing other people a Merry Christmas). Perhaps it's time to start a new Halloween tradition -- even in this rabbi's home.
Yes, my first purchase as a soon-to-be first-time mom was a jog stroller, months before I could use it.
I absolutely never begrudge them their tirades about their lack of personal space, failed attempts at dinner and self-imposed "Mommy time-outs" because they have reached their breaking point.
I want them to be someone worthy of being admired and emulated. To be of noble character, whatever that means. I want to infuse them with goodness and dignity, responsibility, and sense of what's right. Because those Yiddish-makers knew the score: these are the things that matter.
I needed pretense. I needed to feel like I was a real person even though I was really a milk machine. And for me, the way I dress has always been an outward extension of who I am, even as my style has changed.
The nine couples attending the first week of my wife Ceci's natural childbirth course look on as she points to a chart that provides a preview of a ba...
As I reflect on the very different journeys I took from that of my mother's, I can't help but ask, why? Why didn't she want a better future for herself?
If one of these things came to my door, I would probably pee in my pants and hide. I am proud to present to you a collection of these post-childbearing horrors in costume form.
The holidays tend to bring out the best and worst in people, especially parents. Insecurities bubble to the surface as we try to outdo each other and even ourselves.
There's an interesting article winding up in parent's e-mailboxes these days containing an unexpected implied message from late Apple founder Steve Jobs: Manage your child's use of technology.
I fear that my daughters will be limited by the culture they ingest, that I will be powerless to stop it. That they will, in the end, be eaten by Cinderella.
Just like family, friends and even strangers felt free to touch your stomach and offer their opinions during your pregnancy, people won't hesitate to comment on the decisions you make for your infant. Frankly, it can be overwhelming.