It’s Sunday afternoon, and I’m catching up on Facebook after spending a lovely morning disconnected from technology and reconnecting with my body and soul.
I was blissfully unaware of the ugliness happening around me. With a quick scroll through Facebook, that ignorance quickly faded away.
I read post after post about Virginia. I see pictures of young men who would rather I not be in this country, let alone exist. It doesn’t matter that I’m a third generation American — more than many of them, I’m sure. It doesn’t matter that both of my grandfathers fought for the United States during World War II. I’m Jewish, so that’s just not good enough. My family isn’t good enough.
The fear, worry and anger of my friends is reflected online. As I scroll through my feed, my heart sinks. This is not the world I want for my kids.
Cooperstown, N.Y., is a dream destination for baseball fans. Because, my baseball-loving husband had never been, and I barely remember my childhood visit, we decided to take a weekend trip to the historic village.
With two small kids in tow, we were unsure how much of Cooperstown’s famous sites, we’d be able to enjoy. We were delighted to discover how engaged they were with the history and unique charm of the town. Of course, we had to deal with a few tantrums and crankiness — they are kids after all — but, I left Cooperstown, feeling confident I could recommend a visit to other families. Continue reading →
War, disease, deathly mythical creatures. It’s hard to imagine anything scarier than the world of “Game of Thrones.” Oh, wait, there’s high school. Surviving the teen years is hellish enough; now imagine what that might be like if Westeros, instead of being Middle-Ages-inspired fantasy world, was your typical high school.
Would our beloved battle-tested heroes survive the conniving halls of adolescents? Who would be class president? Or class clown?
From his earliest days of playground exploration, my son would be in constant contact with other children. Whether it was an angry push, an enthusiastic hug, or just a curious touch, he never kept his hands to himself.
He’s only one, I told myself. He’ll grow out of it.
My son grew older and more agile. He could climb and jump and keep up with kids three times his age. He still pushed. He still hit. He still tackled kids he loved.
Organized activities, like story time or music class were a nightmare.
One parenting joy is the ability to bitch about the difficulty of raising a (insert age of child here). New parents struggle to stay sane while caring for a helpless, poop-machine. Toddler parents contend with tantrums, crayon murals and picky eating. School-age kids bring constant questions and whining. And, the adolescent years? Yeah, not even gonna touch that.
Seems almost every stage of parenthood has its challenges. So, is there an age when things are not so bad, or even great?
After nearly five years of completely unscientific research, I have concluded the period between four and six months is the most pleasant age for children.
I was in awe of swim staff the moment I put my toe in the lake at summer camp. I was 10 years old, a fair swimmer, with aspirations of one day becoming good enough to work there as a lifeguard. The swim staff was strict, and often downright mean, but everyone respected the waterfront.
In all my years as a camper, and subsequent years as a lifeguard, I never witnessed a serious water emergency. An impressive feat, considering the thousands of campers, staff and visitors who swam, splashed and played in that upstate New York lake.
While drownings and other horrible accidents are often the result of sheer bad luck, and I am not one to point blame at anyone, I believe the reason my camp had such an impressive record, was because the waterfront staff created a culture of safety.
Though my lifeguard days are behind me, I still use what I learned then to help keep my kids safe now.
I have few loves in life, my husband, my kids, and, of course, my Netflix. Give me a night with Francis Underwood or the ladies of Litchfield any day. And, while those shows are fantastic, they don’t always reflect the everyday mundane reality of parenthood. Just like I offered some parenting-inspired tweaks to some popular network programs, I thought Netflix could use some of its own.
1. Orange Is The New Food My Kid Won’t Eat
Will it be oranges or will it be mashed potatoes? Tune in to each episode of this riveting drama to find out which food your child now hates.