"WERRRNT!" exclaimed my three-year-old son Henry to a press box full of suited up off-ice officials at the Dec. 11 Adirondack Thunder hockey game at the Glens Falls Civic Center. Henry was dressed as the Civic Center's scoreboard. Let me rewind: Henry has a history of...
My firstborn son Henry, now 3, was breech, and born via scheduled C-section. I was devastated. I had been practicing HypnoBirthing for months, listening to birth affirmations like “I turn my birthing over to my baby and my body. My body knows exactly what to...
“There, there,” my three-year-old son Henry said, patting my hair. I was crying all over his cheek. He'd just suggested that I throw the pillow out of the bed and use him as a pillow instead, and so I was tucked up under one of...
Though it's still too early to tell for absolute certain, during a recent ultrasound at St. Peter's, the doctor guessed that my second child would also be a son. His guess three years ago about my firstborn son Henry was spot on. First, I felt relieved that the baby was...
I envy the calm, lilting tone I hear some mothers use. “No thank you!” they recite, gently guiding their child away from climbing the radiator around the perimeter of the children's room at the library that all kids gravitate toward. “We'll get them at the patch...
Born in 1982, I'm on the cusp between Generation X and the Milliennials, which TIME Magazine recently called the “Me Me Me” generation of lazy, entitled narcissists. Raised by hippies, I did grow up in the era of Mr. Rogers, talking about my feelings. I knew...
My parents used to sing the Rolling Stones song, “You can't always get what you want,” to me when I was little, and I hated it with a fiery passion. I get where they were coming from now that I'm parenting a two-year-old, though. In the...