Here is what I know to be true: Tuesday we will elect a new president; and my fifteen year-old son is driving. While these may be completely unrelated events, it doesn’t negate the accuracy of the facts. No matter who is elected on Tuesday, my son...

Explaining Wall Street to kids is a lot like explaining where babies come from. They need to know how it happens, but too much too soon can really freak them out. My daughter is a huge American Girl fan, so when she came home from school a few days...

I think I missed the parenting class which instructs well-meaning decent moms and dads to completely ignore their offspring when misbehaving in public. Either that, or these well-meaning parents missed the class which tells them how to discipline.

I recently complimented one of my son’s seventh-grade classmates on the cute skinny jeans she was wearing. “They’re from Abercrombie. We all have the same ones,” she said proudly, pointing out her three friends’ equally-cute pants. The mere mention...

I’ve seen my share of over-the-top birthday parties and super-competitive moms, everywhere from the ice rink to the grocery-store aisle. I probably have even been accused of it myself a time or two, and let me just apologize for that now. But either...

The thing I remember most about that day is feeling so grown up. My legs dangled over the water, pant legs rolled to the knees, as David and I sat in the comfortable quiet that comes from knowing someone your whole life. It was a hot summer day; it...

Twelve-year-old Ben and I were in the kitchen making dinner together when he piped up and asked, “Mom, what exactly is a nerd?” Now, certainly “nerd” is a term he’s heard for many years and its meaning, as we all know, can be either rudely implied...

“This place creeps me out.” We had just pulled in to the small enclave of cabins where 60 members of my family were gathering for a reunion. To say my kids were hesitant would be an understatement. They were giving up a three-day weekend, the Fourth...

“Now, remember,” I coached, “when Bill gets here you say, ‘Nice to meet you,’ and shake his hand. Like this,” I held out my hand and grasped the soft, chubby little fingers of my toddlers and demonstrated a proper handshake. Bill was my husband’s...

I remember the first time I watched my husband change a diaper. He placed the cloth next to our newborn son and then scooched his bottom into position by sliding him side to side, his floppy little legs waving. “Why is he doing that?” I thought to...