My son is going on a class trip to Washington, D.C., and I am worried.
My own eighth grade trip to Washington was unforgettable. Nightly, boys snuck into girls’ rooms, and kids, giddy with freedom, stole into the streets of D.C. in search of excitement and Doritos.
I want my son to have fun, but not that much fun.
Trying to reassure me, my son’s teacher said they tape the outside of the kids’ hotel Continue reading
Parents are people with no education, training, or experience, who are not certified or licensed, practicing outside their area of competency. At best, if we are lucky, after a few years we will get a trophy of participation.
When I was young and naïve, I used to think I knew a thing or two about parenting, which seemed to be a couple things more than the parents I judged via their kids’ Continue reading
4/21/17 – Day 1
I miss you 😘 Grandpa keeps asking me where you are. I showed him the photo posted of you on the donkey and he said, “which one’s the ass?!” Then 3 minutes later he asked me where you were again, so I said, “Where is he??” and he said, “On an ass!” He remembered! So I’m doing an experiment to see if bad words help his memory. Stay tuned. Continue reading
I have a kid who has difficulty mastering laundry skills. Teaching him has been an exercise in futility and a window into the absurd. I’ve learned a lot along the way to nowhere.
For example, I learned that if I tell him, “Take the clothes out of the washing machine and put them in the dryer,” I better clarify, “after the washing machine has stopped running.” Apparently, the locking mechanism that keeps someone from opening a front-loading washer and flooding the laundry room during the washing cycle is no match for the product of a one-night stand between Amelia Bedelia and Houdini.
We hang a lot of damp clothes because ironing is against our religion. It boggles my mind how many ways my son has found to botch this up. Clothes that were supposed to be hung damp have been dried beyond completion, Continue reading
I stopped cussing when I had kids as a way to lie to them and make them think I’m someone I’m not. Lately I have cussed in front of them a few times, surprisingly with much less remorse than I used to have when I’d slip up. I actually think it’s time they know the truth: They come from a long line of cussers, some of whom elevated cursing to an art form. They should also know that cussing can be a form of coping. Continue reading