Tweenage Wasteland

I’m suffering a case of whiplash. Not from an accident in the pedal or be killed bike lanes of Copenhagen, but from watching my not-quite-eleven-year-old waffle back and forth between being a little kid and teetering on the edge of being a teenager. Has there ever ben a more apt slang term than tween? When I…

Sticks and Stones

Dear Boys, For some inexplicable reason I still can’t fathom, when I was in high school the term du jour for a pretty girl was muffin. At the top of this confectionary food chain, reserved for the prettiest of the pretty, the cheerleadiest of the cheerleaders, was blueberry muffin. Even more inexplicable than the baked good…

Growing Up is Hard to Do

Remember when you were young and the clock seemed to snail walk around the hours of a school day? How about the way time seemed to stretch and elongate when you were waiting for a birthday or Christmas morning to come around? Do you remember the explosive breath of freedom upon stepping out into the first rays…

This Woman’s Work

When my first son was a baby, just learning to goo and gaa and blow little baby raspberries, he would look at me all goo-goo eyed and say: “Dada” “Mama” I would say to him, making sure to enunciate. “Maaa-Maaaa”. He would bobble his giant baby head and smile and say, yet again, “Dada”. I’d…