By Rosie Schaap The author of the wise and wholly original Drinking with Men: A Memoir looks back on life with her dad, who unexpectedly passed awa...
Old me is going to look at you and tell you I love you, and you're going to scream at me that your life is over and that I will never understand, and you're right about at least half of that. I probably won't ever understand you. But I did once. I promise.
When I told my daughter that Delaware passed gay marriage this week, she was puzzled. "Why don't they already have it?"
Hate your work; and love your work. Change your mind; and stick to your guns. Find the moment; then scrap it -- and start all over again.
When that buzzer sounded the other day, I knew a moment had passed. As important as basketball is for me, it no longer has the same hold on my daughter.
The ability to talk about boys with my daughter will definitely come in handy soon. We're going to be at "that age" in no time. I don't know if me being gay is going to make it easier for her to confide in me, but if it does, great.
When I was diagnosed and first trying to make sense of it, what I wanted most was to talk with another woman who had been through it and come out the other side, someone who could reassure me with full confidence that it wouldn't be a permanent condition.
They say kids say the darndest things. But my belief is that it's 75-year-old parents who have just discovered a new movie who really blurt out classic nuggets of truth (hell, just look at Shit My Dad Says).
I had no idea what I wanted to do or be, and in many ways his passing felt like I was starting from scratch... like I had to relearn how to have Thanksgiving dinner or shop for Christmas gifts, blow out my birthday candles -- would I even want birthday candles again?
My dad was not a cook. He built skyscrapers in New York City, and his strong hands were more comfortable wielding the heavy steel of a hammer or a saw than the gentle curves of a metal whisk.
I told her what a pleasure it has been to be her granddaughter, and that our relationship is not over, it's just on pause.
What was it like to grow up with "Mr. Marriott"? Did you ever see him? The answer to the second question is "yes" and reflects what a great dad he really is.
Many people think of Lent in terms of giving up indulgences such as chocolate or wine. What I'd like to give up this season is being hard on myself.
I tell myself I should buy sparklers but when I look up, I'm late for jack-o-lanterns. Once upon a time we talked about Disney World, but they were too young, now we are in a sprint to beat the imminent disdain for princesses.
This is a teen-written article from our friends at Youth Communication, a nonprofit organization that helps marginalized youth develop their full pote...
I want to write something really profound today. I want to convey just how unique, impactful and truly lovable my father was on this day that he would have turned 70.
Increasingly dads are showing their daughters how to be strong and effective navigators of their lives much as they have always done with their sons.
When children take on the role of caretakers in their families, they view the world differently; they see the struggles of their parents and understand that playing with dolls and train sets cannot improve the situation.
I, like many other young people who suffer from medical conditions, am forever grateful to President Obama for signing this act into law.
"Daddy, I'm breaking up with you."
This is a teen-written article from our friends at Youth Communication, a nonprofit organization that helps marginalized youth develop their full pote...
I'm old enough to admit to being confused about the exact import of the term "old school." Is it good or bad? A compliment or a putdown? A shout-out to a code of conduct that, while not flashy, emphasizes substance, hard work and real skill, or a rebuff to anything that happened before the 1990s?
"I am not going down without a fight. I am not dead yet. I will fight until my heart stops beating. I will not give up to this disease." Share your support for Liz by tweeting at her at @lizrowan1.
It's easy to fall into the gendered trap of assuming that hammers and nails are the preferred territory of boys, but my 5-year-old daughter attacked this building project with more enthusiasm than I have seen her show in weeks.
I always ran through scenarios for the girls and their first boyfriends. It involved scaring the boyfriends, embarrassing the girls and making sure the boys knew dad would be watching.
