At Home on the Death Star

I think I might be a wee bit broken. A life spent increasingly online has done something to me, something that no stream of Distractify quizzes or compilation of cute kittens is able to fix right now. It’s like I got sucked up by a tractor beam into the wake of the Death Star. I’ve never…

How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Lose My Shit and Count the Ways

My husband wears many hats in our relationship. For instance, he is Cooker of the Steak and Killer of the Bugs. He is Chancellor of All Things Camping and Chairman of the Ball. Minister of Family Vacations is only one of the titles he wears as jauntily as a trilby. While acting in his capacity of Minister, often…

The Tao of Mom (Part I)

“While Eeyore frets ……and Piglet hesitates… and Rabbit calculates… and Owl pontificates…Pooh just is.”  —The Tao of Pooh, Benjamin Hoffman. I am a mother.  I fret.  And hesitate, and calculate, and pontificate.  Not to mention cuisinate, laundrinate, and referee sibling-gate.  I’m like the whole freaking Hundred Acre Woods rolled up into one.  I am never…

Balancing Acts

There are times when parenting seems to be nothing more than a big show of balancing acts.  Balance between nurture and nature, between choice and obligation, between sweet, cuddling love and “This hurts me more than it hurts you” discipline.  Balance between giving advice and sitting back and allowing natural consequences to take place. Between…