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Put them to work: Part II
Today I found this intriguing New Yorker write-up of a book that suggests young kids might be better off learning to machete the lawn themselves, but only after learning to boil the shellfish for...
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No farts for the wicked
When the kids are jumping on their beds, pulling things out of drawers, chanting their little gleeful war chants, pretending to be cats and dragons, and telling us they need a third dinner, saying this...
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The watermelon seed, in memoriam
“Seeds! Seeds!” shrieks the three-year-old, terrified of the tiny flecks of white in his seedless watermelon. Kid, I say, you don’t know from watermelon seeds. Once upon a time, eating a slice of...
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‘Mommy, we asked you for hamachi and tamago!’
Last Friday, it happened again. I served dinner, and everybody cried. Well, not me or my husband, or the cat. Just the two little boys with rarefied tastes – who are far too sophisticated for their...
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Time to be a kid – in between art at 4 and soccer at 5:15
Three after-school activities seem like enough for The Elder, but it’s hard to hold back when all of the other six-year-olds are not just doing soccer, but soccer, tee-ball, hockey and basketball, and...
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Here Comes Peter Cottontail, Hopping Down the Polyethylene Trail …
A rerun. I hope it’s an oldie-but-goodie. It seems I blog about bunny-related stuff a lot. Easter is just full of hazards. The Eldest and I attended a big egg hunt a few weeks ago, where you use the...
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Beatrix Potter into snuff, canings
Does this repeat post mean I’m now officially a Bunny Blogger? Is there money in that? In theory, I love the originals of all literature, nothing removed, nothing censored, exactly as the author...
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Sometimes you want to go when everybody knows your name
I can no longer focus for longer than three minutes in my own home, which is likely the result of some sort of post-traumatic stress from being jumped on by 40-pound males through the years. In order...
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Tiny man lives by bread and cheese alone
Last night, The Younger was adamant that he would not eat a quesadilla, no way, no how. He also wouldn’t have a grilled cheese, or cheese and crackers. “Yuck!” But Annie’s mac and cheese? “No!!! Wait,...
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The age of excess
Last night, I was on solo duty putting the boys to bed. Since we recently moved, we now have a luxurious setup where each boy has his own room. That has worked out fine – until now. As I was reading...
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