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...
My son Henry turned two on August 22. On the eve of his first birthday, I went through his tiny baby clothes and heaved profound guttural sobs over the loss of my little newborn son. I remember him seeming so big compared to his first onesies, and...
I often think to myself, “One of these days I'm going to look up some charming ideas on Pinterest and spend the day with my son Henry making bumblebees out of pool noodles and painting every surface in the house with chalkboard paint.” I place...
We have some outrageous family lore on both sides of my family tree, like how my uncle Johnny ended up in the upstairs apartment painting the walls for the tenants when he was three, and how my dad at 18 months toddled across the railroad...
We like to take our toddler Henry to the Monday night City Band concerts in City Park. But I'd be lying if I said he peacefully enjoys the music. While he listens, he also pokes his fingers in the irrigation control valve covers, smacks the metal...
Last month at my 15th high school reunion in Woodstock, Vermont, I had a chat with my class's valedictorian. She's nowhere to be found on Facebook, so this conversation was a genuine catch-up — that is to say, we didn't have to pretend we had...
