There Are No Phone Calls At Summer Camp And That Is Okay

“Where is your daughter, Jane?” The neighbor asks. “At summer camp.” I reply. “How is she enjoying it?” They ask. “I assume she’s fine.” I reply. Then, they melt down. The questions come rapid fire. Why hasn’t she called? Oh, they aren’t allowed to call [insert sanctimonious tone here]. I don’t know that I’d send my kid to a camp like that. Oh, all camps are like that? Well, that’s not how I remember it. Can’t you send her with a cell phone so she can text you? That is …

This Business Of Parenting is Tough

I just got off the phone with my Mom. She thinks I’m making a mistake, and I know she’s right. I really hate not being a good enough parent. I hate it when I make mistakes, and I make them. Most of our mistakes are with our daughter, because she came first. My Mom thinks we’re too tough on Jane with her table manners. She thinks we’re begging for an eating disorder. I want to say she’s wrong, I want to think that we’ve made all the right decisions in …

BlogHer09: Recap Number One Of 943

I don’t think I’ll ever stop talking about BlogHer09. It was an incredible event. After a year of this blog, and a few years elsewhere I’ve finally jumped in and met “my tribe”. My tribe isn’t Moms, or even only women. My tribe is you. I was so happy to meet so many of my readers, and so many whose blogs I follow. The stack of cards is a mile high, and the pictures… oh y’all took so many pictures. What I noticed about BlogHer is that the lobby and …

Legalizing Marijuana

I’m really busy hanging out with my kids, so I’m going to talk about drugs from a Mom’s perspective. Your kids are going to try pot. Would you like them to buy it from a drug dealer or a dispensary? I’m all about the dispensary. California is broke and our prisons are overcrowded. How many of three strikes candidates are there because they smoked a little weed? Can we stop pretending that cannabis is a problem? I’m infinitely more concerned that partially hydrogenated oils will give Jane and Alexander cancer. …

Love Is A Verb

I have a difficult neighbor. By difficult I mean, he’s a little off. He’s in his mid thirties, may or may not live with his parents on the street, and spends an inordinate amount of time with the old ladies in the neighborhood. He has keys to their homes, he spends a lot of time across the street in the home of an elderly woman who died last year. The house is vacant. My children and my friend Ann’s children frequently use Ann’s front lawn to throw baseballs. Why? Because …