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…
Tag: children
You are the Architect of Your Dreams (But Your Mother Dusted Them)
If you need a reason to call your mother on Mother’s Day this year, consider this one: You may be the architect of your dreams, but it was your mother who dusted them. I don’t mean the magic, fairy kind of dust that Tinkerbell sprinkles about. I mean she dusted them with synthetic ostrich plumes…
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…
I Wanna Hold Your Hand
Recently I chaperoned my son’s 1st grade class on a field trip to an art museum. We marched, two by two toward the train and two by two on the fifteen minute walk from train to museum (this is Denmark, we walk, no chartered, cushy busses for us). As we tripped along I tried to…
Wine and Cheese (Doodles) 