The Parents of the Sexy Dancing Kids Go On Good Morning America

And they are (not surprisingly) totally inarticulate. Cory Miller is very proud of his daughter. For background see my last post. I’d also encourage all parents to read my post about privacy. Our behaviors are seldom private any more, and I cannot even bother to comment about putting this in context. There is no context necessary.

Seven Year Olds? Really?

My eleven year old daughter desperately wants to wear a bikini, and just this morning I explained to her (for the 800th time) that she would wear a tankini instead. A tankini shows a bit of belly, but essentially looks like a tank top and swim bottoms. I’d considered letting Jane wear a bikini this year. I figured she’d be so uncomfortable in it that she’d beg for a one piece, but the reality is that I can’t bring myself to sexualize my eleven year old daughter. My job as …

My Eleven Year Old Charged $192 to My Cell Phone

Remember when Jane turned eleven and got a cell phone? My brother called me and was like, “you should get her an unlimited text plan because our girls ran up huge texting bills, and Mom loves me best.” (that is EXACTLY what he said). In keeping with my general rule of never listening to my brother, I bought Jane the cell phone with no additional text plan. I figured it would run me a few dollars a month when she texted her friends. The first cell phone bill included $123 …

End Of School Year Stress

Typically my mornings are simple. I get up at seven, throw on my carpool sweats, wake the kids up, give them breakfast, bring them to school, and then I head straight back home. I make beds, tidy the kitchen, exercise, shower and then I work a little before lunch. Not this time of year. This is the time of year for parent coffees, end of year project presentations, potlucks and next year it will be final exams. This is the time of year when we all look at the signature …

A Navigation System Named Sally

I’m turning in my station wagon next week. His name is Marsh… you know, short for Marshmallow. Thanks to an unscientific study, I am assured that I’m not the only adult who names their cars. My new car doesn’t have a name yet, but navigation system is named Sally. She just sounds like a Sally, and Sally was the name of Jane’s imaginary friend. When Jane was almost three, about the time that Alexander was born, she had a friend named Sally. We used to set the table for Sally, …