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Before reading any further, be forewarned: this is not a story for the weak of heart. It is filled with snakes, destruction, filth, war and loss. But every word is true. I know. I lived it. The other day my 8-year-old called me into the bathroom. With a frown, he pointed downward. My eyes followed his path to the toilet bowl, which was filled with yellow water and a bright red Matchbox car. When I asked how the car got in the toilet, he motioned toward his sweatshirt pocket – bulging with little metal cars – and I gave silent thanks that onl...
Happy holidays dear friends and family, It’s that time of year again! Time to take a break from gourmet cookie baking and ornate present wrapping to share the exploits of my perfect family. It is a joy to reveal a window of our world to you. It is a shining window indeed. Clean and streak free. The very perfection of my family makes this letter writing business a snap. Imagine my happiness at being able to share our outstanding talents, achievements and overall excellence with you, humble friend or family member. While we do regularly see d...
In previous columns, I defined parenthood as an infinite act of optimism. You enter the job with open arms and an open heart, trusting the child you’ve been entrusted with will learn, grow and love under your humble tutelage. Loving one child is optimistic – two, doubly so. Imagine taking responsibility for 20, or maybe 25. I define that as optimism on steroids. As a parent, you get to keep the same kids season after season. As soon as you’ve known your own for about a minute and a half, they start to grow on you and you wouldn’t dream of swap...