Category - blog

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Teens Need Control, Independence, and Straight Teeth
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What I’ve Learned From Growing Up With Loss
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Can Vitamin D Prevent Influenza?
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Teaching Kids’ to Do Chores: a Perspective From a Home-Based Parent
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We Will All Be OK: a Teenage Boy Going Through Puberty
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How to Get Kids Excited About Journaling
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One Year Later
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Journaling: Not Just for Writers
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Step Seven to an Extraordinary Life: Admire Small Miracles
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Sharing Our Childhoods With Our Kids

Teens Need Control, Independence, and Straight Teeth

“I don’t WANT someone to marry me!!!” That was the climactic point in a tearful exchange with my 14-year-old daughter. Shamefully, I smiled a little to myself despite her distress, because my husband and I often joke to each other how some poor (but INCREDIBLY lucky) shmuck will get to marry our headstrong, determined daughter. He better be ready for space travel because, as our older son says, “D is gonna colonize the moon.” This is a girl who could out run her older brothers through the back acre behind her grandparents house, who once wore a set of laboratory…

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What I’ve Learned From Growing Up With Loss

Mommy, what happens when we die? My oldest is always good for minivan-stopping moments. Trying to toss his velcro shoe out the window. Determining that blank-staring milking cows are maniacs. Going waaaay existential. At four-years-old, he again (yes, again) flew his old-soul flag and asked the ages-old question. While other children focused on the flying house fueled by colorful balloons in the movie Up, my son was deeply troubled that the main character’s wife died. Thus our first conversation about death and dying. And I thought the birds-and-bees talk would be the tough one. Turns out, I am much better…

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Can Vitamin D Prevent Influenza?

After posting The Influenza Vaccine:  You Can’t Make This Stuff Up a friend and fellow mom reached out to me.  She told me how happy she was to see some real info cross her virtual desk because her news feed is usually filled with the myths and dangers of the influenza vaccine.  She had even read that Vitamin D could save the population from influenza infection and jokingly blamed “Dr. Google” for her discovery of this one.  And with her, I rolled my eyes as you just can’t make this stuff up. I do my best to keep up-to-the-moment on the influenza front,…

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Teaching Kids’ to Do Chores: a Perspective From a Home-Based Parent

I finally figured out a job title I can live with:  Home-Based Parent.  “Stay-at-Home-Mom” isn’t remotely accurate (my record:  five trips into town on a weekday) and “Domestic Engineer” sounds like I’m trying too hard to avoid the fact I don’t have a regular income (do earnings from the consignment shop count?).  But Home-Based Parent is totally on-target.  It applies to  both dads and moms, and includes the increasingly common possibility of a home-based business.  Feel free to use this description if it suits what you do. Being a Home-Based Parent has its perks (flexibility, increased presence for the kiddos,…

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We Will All Be OK: a Teenage Boy Going Through Puberty

  He’s moody.  He’s all arms and legs.  His voice cracks uncontrollably. He eats like there’s no tomorrow.  And then tomorrow, he eats the same way. He doesn’t understand why he is sad. He alternately hates you and and needs to snuggle with you.   Sound familiar?   A pubertal boy drowns in a cesspool of changing emotions, feels self-conscious about his raging acne, and takes naps like he did when he was an infant.  (Not to mention he is nervous and confused about the changes in his body.)  And that’s the tip of the iceberg. The process is hard…

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How to Get Kids Excited About Journaling

I hated writing as a kid (how things change…).  And I mean Hated.  It.  But I did keep a diary, one of those with the cheapie metal lock that was easily picked by prying eyes.  I wrote everything private in that little book.  Boy-crushes, my worries, my deepest thoughts.  It never occurred to me the irony here:  I hated structured academic writing yet let the ink flow into a girly, flower-y volume.  The answer seems obvious now. At school I wrote because I had to.  At home I was the boss of what I wrote. Ba-Zinga. Just how slow was…

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One Year Later

We were told it takes a year.  Of course, at that time we couldn’t imagine what the next 12 months would hold, but we knew it wouldn’t be easy.  Every day would be a first. One year ago today my husband’s dad, my second father for 30 years, and our kids’ grandfather lost his brave fight with a rare cancer.  True to his nature, he outlived the prognosis by several months with his positive outlook to live every day to the fullest.  He learned from a early age how precious and tenuous life is and made sure, for almost 60 years…

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Journaling: Not Just for Writers

  I love me a beautiful writing journal.  Browsing all the shapes and sizes, colors and patterns, snap closures and leather ties is, for me, better than shoe shopping.  I’m proud of my collection of bound volumes adorning my bookshelf, but I have a dirty little secret:  I’m not so good about writing in them.  Even the brand-new, shimmery, technicolor volume beckoning to me from my office space is not motivating me to finish writing in the yummy “Land of Oz” journal I currently use.  Not that I don’t love journaling because I do crave the chance to free-write but…

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Step Seven to an Extraordinary Life: Admire Small Miracles

  I guess my husband is going to find out about this now.  (Hi, Honey!)  A few days ago I’m out running errands during a busy time of day, look left to turn right, do the turning, and then hear a horn blast. And a jolt from behind. Uuuuggggh. How and why I didn’t see the little red pickup truck has me shaken even now.  And my mistake really rattled the other driver.  Fortunately, that’s the worst part of our encounter as neither of our vehicles was damaged. Believe me, I will admire that small miracle for weeks to come….

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Sharing Our Childhoods With Our Kids

  My family and I spent the last two weeks “back home,” “back home” being central Iowa and eastern Nebraska where my husband and I spent our formative years.  Our kids think it’s weird when their parents talk like this because to them, home is where the puppy is.  Where Dad and Mom grew up (read:  no puppy…) can’t possibly be “home.” Ironically, my daughter challenged me to read and finish a book on the plane trip back to Iowa:  On the Way Home by Laura Ingalls Wilder, the diary of the trek she and Almanzo and Rose took from DeSmet, Dakota…

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