This post originally appeared on Perfection Pending, the opinions expressed are my own and should in no way be taken as professional medical advice. If you have any questions or concerns about your family’s health, please consult with your doctor.
It’s 7:30 p.m., well past the point when we begin the bedroom routine for our two children. My oldest son is running through the house. It’s a special night because we are going to see a movie at the drive-in. Neither of my kids has been to the movies before, and my four-year-old is screaming with excitement because he can’t wait to see Cars 3.
I finish packing up my bag when I hear wailing coming out of my bedroom. I gaze over at my husband who has the distinct “What just happened?” face all parents know. My gaze moves to my son whose forehead is bleeding from a fresh, gaping wound.
Many parents, in that moment, would have rushed there kids to the emergency room, but not us. My husband rigged together some bandages, and we set off for the drive-in as planned.
I knew the wound was bad, but a tantrum over missing the film would be way worse.
Thanksgiving has passed. The store shelves are stocked with ornaments, tinsel, and lights. The mainstream radio stations are playing holiday tunes. Holly and pine adorn streetlights and shop windows. Santa and his elves are depicted in countless commercials. Christmas season is here.
As a Jewish mom in a predominantly Christian society, I do feel a need to shield my kids from the Christmas stuff. The lights, the tree, Santa, the presents—I get it—it’s pretty awesome. I can’t blame my 5-year-old for wanting in on the action.
I could respond by playing up Hanukkah, telling him we get eight nights of presents instead of one. Or I could diminish the role of Christmas in our secular society, and hope he just gets over it.
Instead, I will share with my son all of the wonderful teachings of Christmas. Continue reading →
The following is an excerpt from my story, “Brotherly Love,” in the book, The Unofficial Guide to Surviving Life With Boys: Hilarious & Heartwarming Stories About Raising Boys From The Boymom Squad, edited by Tiffany O’Connor and Lyndee Brown of #Lifewithboys. Continue reading →
When I was pregnant with my second child, getting my oldest to sleep in his own bed became a battle I just didn’t want to fight anymore. So, we started bed-sharing. (Why it is called that is beyond me, there is no “sharing” a bed with a toddler. You just try to make do with what little space your child gives you, and pray you don’t get kicked in the face.) After my youngest was born, I was even more exhausted and getting sleep was more important than getting my toddler in his own bed.
You would think that because my son doesn’t use his bed anymore, we would no longer need it. However, I have found it has several useful functions.
They’re strong, opinionated, and ready to defend their territory. Just like most of the moms I know, the ladies of Orange is the New Black are a strong and colorful bunch. Change Litchfield into a playground and you have the makings of one interesting show.