Are Moms With Older Kids Unrelatable?

I’m looking at who the mom bloggers are and, well, let’s face it, those of us who have been in the space a while are sort of fading away. I almost never write about my kids (which isn’t really much of a change) but I’m writing less and less about motherhood, which is a change. When the kids were little there were universal experiences we mothers were having. We all have pregnancies or adoption stories, we all lost sleep, gained weight, got peed on, taught kids where to pee, worried …

Do You See the Scrotum?

My stepbrother texted me last night to let me know that he’d sent Alexander a text saying “keep it clean”. I was out buying the perfect silk blouse so I couldn’t exactly be bothered with parenting at the time. When I got home I asked Alexander for his cell phone. He looked sheepish handing it to me and we went through the text messages together. Most of the text messages were fine, funny even. There were links to chicken butt pictures. And then there was a note to his cousin …

Approaching the Teen Age Years

Jane is twelve. This autumn she will be thirteen and I’m pretty sure what we’re experiencing here is not unique. The elementary school years were pretty easy, there were no big upheavals, just a bit of mean girl behavior in third grade that got nipped in the bud, but nothing monumental. Sixth grade was pretty much a cake walk too. This summer there’s been a change in the air. Jane is pissed at me because I have limited her phone access. After 10pm she can only text us and her …

Elementary School Sports As Ambassadors

Jane is in fifth grade, and like her, the school she attends is growing and changing. I’m fairly certain both kids will stay there through the eighth grade, but I’ve got to do my homework and look at all the other local schools. In our area there are openings for new students in the sixth, seventh and ninth grades. On my living room table is a stack of admissions packets for various schools in the area. One school in particular stands out as being the next step. It’s rigorous but …

Kissing Boys Is NOT Gross

Yesterday was the Fourth of July, and I spent a good bit of the afternoon cross legged on our daughter’s floor marking her clothing with a Sharpie. Jane. I wrote Jane on her socks, her toothbrush, her beloved skinny jeans and  a few tank tops. Then, I sobbed. Not like a little bit either, but the sort of sobs where you stop breathing for a moment and you think you might pass out. The sort of sobs that are typically reserved for a death. Yesterday it felt like childhood died …