Even when I solicit input from my trusted and valued advisers — aka “my best mom friends” — I make the decisions and suffer the consequences. I addressed my son’s issues at school in my previous blogs — to be honest, he hates it. He hates talking about school,...
In high school, we had to take a survey that asked, “When will you be living your best life?” Childhood, high school, college, adult or retirement? But why is life broken down by stages? Wouldn’t it be better to live in the moment?
Making new friends is difficult at any age. Though, arguably, the older I get, the harder it becomes. No longer can I rely on a lucky class schedule or a gaggle of neighborhood kids when it comes to making connections. At a certain age, now, I actually kind of have to, you know, work for it (ugh).
Recently, my husband went out of town for a week. Leaving me at home with the kids…all by myself! After that long week, I now sing a song of praises to all single parents, especially moms.
Date night? What’s that? The thing I replaced with “Your turn to bathe the kids” night or “I’m working late again” night. Lately, I noticed that my husband and I have been in a rut. It’s routine, routine, routine…and no romance.
I have a confession to make. I hate homework. I hate doing it. I hate helping with it. I hate the mere existence of it. It started in kindergarten, and year by year, it gets worse. I already did 15+ years of it myself. Now, I have many more years of helping my kids with their homework!
We all have our mommy to-do lists. After dropping off the kids, working a full day with deadlines that never end, picking up the kids, making dinner, doing homework, giving baths, reading stories before bed and doing housework, I am too tired to do anything for me.
It’s hard to believe that we’re almost halfway through the school year! This summer, I wrote about the anxiety of Cohen starting a new school year. Last year, his kindergarten year (you may remember) didn’t go so well. He received numerous safe seats, hated school, acted out and wasn’t the kid I knew.
About a year ago, I wrote about transitioning my daughter into a “big girl bed.” At the end of the post, I wrote that she now sleeps in her bed in her own room by herself. Well…not anymore!
