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.
It's not exactly a secret that new parents get little sleep. I'm OK with that. It comes with the territory. But no one tells expectant moms and dads that their little ones eventually will tease them by occasionally sleeping through the night, sometimes for a week or two at a time, but then will regress back to waking up once or twice - sometimes even three times - per night.
Having a sick child is hard, there's no doubt about that. First and foremost, parents are faced with the sense of helplessness that comes with knowing your son or daughter feels poorly, and there's little that can be done to instantaneously restore their health.
If there's anything cuter than one little blond-haired, blue-eyed baby girl, it's two little blond-haired, blue-eyed baby girls.
Most mornings, I spend about five minutes pulling my freshly washed hair into a ponytail. It's easy, it's efficient, and, I like to tell myself, it's even chic. When I know I'll be meeting important people or attending special events, however (like, say, the United Way annual campaign kick-off party or a chamber of commerce breakfast), I break out the products and utensils and spend an extra 20 minutes or so coaxing my locks into what I hope is a more professional-looking style.
I realize, perhaps better than anyone, that it's not polite to ask others about their reproductive plans. I've long ranted about how much it annoyed me when friends, family members and even perfect strangers would inquire about a possible plunge into parenthood. Even now, as most of my readers know, I get aggravated when people ask whether my 2-year-old daughter, Reese, will ever be a sister.
Last week, seemingly all the national news agencies reported on the American Academy of Pediatrics' new recommendation that middle and high schools start no earlier than 8:30 a.m. to help ensure older children get more sleep.
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