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Sorry, Not Sorry
She came in from playing outside, her cheeks flushed from the southern sunshine. “Please go pick up your room before dinner,” I asked. My four-year-old turned, made an angry face, with fists at her sides, “I don’t want to!” Giving her the ‘mom’ look, I started towards her. She quickly ran to her room, continuing to shout and whine. I followed her, trying to maintain my patience while I explained that she will not speak to me like this and that picking up her toys is her responsibility. She yelled, “SORRY! But I . . .” And I listened to her little rant, gently corrected her attitude, and modeled an…
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Summer’s Over
For the past couple of weeks, the ads have started popping up on television. Back to school fliers seem to be everywhere, and school supplies began taking over the shelves at Target and Wal-Mart. As a high school teacher for 17 years those were rarely welcome signs; I enjoyed my quiet summer vacations, reading by the pool or lake. Of course, once I became a parent, quiet summers became ancient history, but there is something special to love in the noisy chaos of kids. Then this morning, I was greeted on Facebook by this image. But this isn’t how I feel about the end of summer. In fact, this isn’t…
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Welcome to the Club
It finally happened. I’ve officially joined the club of “mmm, she’s awfully quiet in there . . . WHAT DID YOU DO?” moms. Now I had to decide how to discipline. My mom joined the club when I was two and covered my crying sister with talcum powder, then made tiny powder clouds all over the upstairs of our house. My parents never got all the powder out of the deeply grooved tile floor and still blame me for my sister’s asthma. It is my earliest memory. I’ve actively avoided joining this club. We read Olivia as a cautionary tale. I hide ALL the Sharpies. All to no avail. I’m…