I am on a mission for the month of June – I want to be comfortable in a swimsuit. I don’t need it to be a bikini, and I don’t need to look like Demi Moore. I just want to be able to go to the beach with my kids and not feel self-conscious getting into the water. I want to be able to accept a pool playdate without worrying about being in a swimsuit in front of another family. I feel like my weight has been limiting my life as of late. I have been so busy taking care . . .
malingering
Today around 9am I got a call from Jafta’s school. It was the nurse – letting me know that Jafta was in her office complaining of a stomach ache. Now, Jafta is prone to psychosomatic complaints and general dramatics, so I was a bit skeptical. The nurse offered for me to talk to him myself. In retrospect, this was probably not the best idea. He told me his stomach was hurting really bad, and then I made another mistake – I told him that he needed to go back to class, and . . .
what’s the protocol for declining playdates?
Yesterday Kembe came home from school with a really sweet note from the parents of another boy in his class. I’ll call him Aidan. The note said that Aidan talks about Kembe all the time, and really wants to have him over for a playdate. Kembe somehow knew about the subject of the note and is talking constantly about going to Aidan’s house. My first reaction was to be flattered and excited for Kembe. He’s doing really well socially and I’m happy that despite his . . .
the bedroom as metaphor for the neglected inner sanctuary
A couple weeks ago, I was talking with some other bloggers about our messy bedrooms. We all had a couple things in common: we all write about our lives on the internet, we are all relative perfectionists, we all keep the front of our homes neat and tidy, and we all have secret shame about the state of our own rooms. We laughed about the ways we divert people from ever entering our rooms, and confessed our mortification over babysitters seeing our private mess. But then the . . .
a desert reprieve
We had a much-needed vacation this past weekend. It was a relief in many ways. For one, we’ve been in the midst of a really busy season, and it was so nice to get out of our routine and have a break. But it was also the first vacation we have really taken since Kembe came home, aside from our trip to see my family at Christmas (which felt more like traveling than a vacation). Our holiday trip was rather stressful and difficult, and our month-long stay in a hotel during . . .
one nice thing about having four kids . . .
. . . is that you can call ‘pool party’ and they don’t ask who else is coming. We’re in Palm Springs for the weekend, resting and relaxing (and checking out all the fun family offerings in Palm Springs for a feature I’m working on). There are a lot of fun things to do here – but for my four, the pool is where it’s at. . . .
what I want you to know: I hate my eating disorder
What I Want You to Know is a series of reader submissions. It is an attempt to allow people to tell their personal stories, in the hopes of bringing greater compassion to the unique issues each of us face. If you would like to submit a story to this series, click here. Today’s post is by Veronica from Run, Write, Repeat. She says, “after spending four months in intensive residential and outpatient treatment for anorexia and bulimia in 2010, I wanted people to know the ‘truth’ . . .
commercials that are making me doubt humanity
I don’t get to watch much tv these days, and it seems like I am always multitasking when I do. As such, sometimes I’m not so quick on the clicker and end up catching some commercials. Is it just me, or are they getting worse? Here are some of the commercials that have me scratching my head/scared for society. This Kay Jewelers commercial is so bad that Mark and I watched it on repeat like 5 times the first time we saw it, crying from laughter. I don’t know if this means . . .
the trauma of sports
When my oldest son Jafta was about four and a half, he began begging to attend a basketball camp he heard about for a friend. I signed him up for one through our city for preschool-aged kids. For three months, he asked about it every day. Despite his shoddy math skills at the ripe age of four, he was inexplicably able to count down the days until this camp started. It was supposed to start on a Monday in April. On Saturday, I got a call telling me it had been cancelled due to low enrollment. The . . .
you don’t need to adopt to care for orphans
I’m doing a tv appearance this morning – Mark and I will be on The 700 Club bright and early. They invited me to talk about adoption, and as such I wanted to re-post some resources in case people come by looking for more information. I’ve written pretty passionately about the global orphan situation recently, and several people have asked: “What can I do if I’m not in a position to adopt?” Adoption is not for everyone. Nor is it the answer to the world’s orphan crisis. In the . . .
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