Before I had a child, there were a few things I noticed parents doing that really annoyed me, and I swore I would never do those things if and when I became a mother. For the most part, I've been diligent about sticking to my guns.
The Internet is bad for me. I'm an obsessive worrier, and I've only gotten worse since the advent of search engines. I often think that if someone got a hold of my web-search queries, I'd end up an international laughing stock. Among the best last week: "Can you become addicted to nasal spray?" "Affects of eating slightly brown guacamole," "Can Tums cause kidney stones?" and "My cat ate cellophane."
I'm an apologetic person. Maybe it's Catholic guilt. Maybe it's just in my nature. But I do love to apologize - mostly for things that aren't my fault. My mother has always said I'd apologize for World War II if given the opportunity. She's right; I am sorry for that horrible global conflict, but not because I think I had anything to do with it. In general, I'm just sorry it happened. It's an empathetic type of apology.
Every phase of "babyhood" has its merits, and I've loved them all so far. In fact, every time my daughter Reese enters a new stage of development, I swear that it's the best one yet. I honestly can't pick my favorite.
There's a topic I've always shied away from in this column - that of the working mom vs. stay-at-home mom debate. I never felt the need to broach this subject before because, honestly, I didn't really feel it was an issue anymore. I thought we, as parents, had moved past all that trivial nonsense and decided all mothers play important roles. Period.
As it turns out, all my worrying last week about how my toddler would deal with a flight from Georgia to Missouri definitely was not for nothing. In fact, probably the only thing that would have made the journey worse would've been a plane crash. And, sadly, it was my own meticulous planning that did me in.
I apparently did not learn my lesson two weeks ago with the debacle in involving an explosion of Gerber puffed-wheat snacks in church.
I recently made the mistake of trying to handle a "two-man job" by myself. I won't do that again.
I consider myself a pretty eco-conscious mom. Not only do I want to do what's best for our planet, I want to set a good example for my daughter, Reese.
In typical scatter-brained-mom fashion, I set out last Saturday morning to assemble what was supposed to be an easy dinner in the Crock-Pot, only to realize I forgot one key ingredient.
Parents enter parenthood in countless ways. Sure, there's the traditional method - get married, have a baby and raise your family. And that's a wonderful way to go about it. But there are all kinds of families out there, and I know that I - for one - sometimes forget that moms and dads are made in more ways than one.
Before my daughter Reese was born, I had another "baby." For several years, my golden retriever, Abbie, pretty much had it made. My husband and I welcomed her to our home when she was 12 weeks old in September 2007 and wasted no time showering her with affection, toys, treats and walks.
Males ages 10 and older flocked Saturday to the Liberty County Performing Arts Center in Flemington for an empowerment workshop, "Tied to Success."
Primping is fun - at least I've always thought so. Most people enjoy looking their best, and before I was a mom, scarcely a day went by when my eyeliner and blow-dryer didn't see the light of day.
It's true what they tell new parents - you can buy your child the fanciest, most expensive toys on the market, but in the end, the kid is probably going to prefer to play with the box the toy came in. So, why shell out all that cash when simple is almost always better than complicated? What parents may not know is that this logic also applies to baby gear.
Despite buzz last year that Midway residents would be able to satisfy their Big Mac cravings without having to leave city limits, McDonald's never did set up shop at the Highway 84/Interstate 95 interchange. Rumor had it that the halted restaurant plan boiled down to an expensive right-turn lane required by the Georgia Department of Transportation.
I don't believe in illness. OK, perhaps I should rephrase that - I don't believe in a minor illness' ability to keep me down. Unless I'm dragging a limb, hospitalized or totally unable to keep food down at all, I refuse to disrupt my ultra-busy daily routine to do silly things like "rest" or "recuperate."
Call me an old-timer, but moms and dads just did things differently when I was a child. The overall approach to parenting seems to have changed so much. My parents fostered independence in my siblings and me. They wanted us to learn early on that we needed to be able to speak and do things for ourselves, and the sooner we understood that, the better off we'd be.
There is nothing more important than the safety and protection of innocent children. Not constitutional rights, not animal rights, not thoughts, opinions, feelings or political beliefs. The lives of children must be given top priority.
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