With the snip of a pair of scissors, my daughter turned from girl to teen. Last weekend, she had 13 inches of hair cut off and donated to Locks of Love.
Back in my younger days, when I went to college in North Carolina, I became part of a group of hippies and outcasts who bonded together in our love for the Grateful Dead.
With Independence Day looming (I’m reminded nightly by the loud booms and bangs of fireworks that wake my almost-asleep son), it's time to reflect on the ways we’ve “independenced” ourselves since
As of 9:15 p.m. Thursday, I will be officially the mother of a teenager. My firstborn turns 13 and I can feel the gray hairs popping out already.
When I was young, back in the glory days of the 1970s, there was a girl in my school whose last name was Jenner, and she said her cousin was then-superstar Olympian Bruce Jenner.
I've written about feeling out of control in the past, and it's something I struggle with: when to let go and when to cling tightly.
When did I suddenly become invisible? And when did people in authority positions get so YOUNG? I think I know the answer to both questions, and it's not one I'm liking.
I've written before about my love for my little backyard, which I guess isn’t really that little (just ask my husband after he spends the afternoon mowing the lawn).
As I was driving down West Jefferson Boulevard at lunchtime today, a blinding flash of lightning crashed just in front of me, followed quickly by a loud rumble of thunder.
Wanted: One friend for small boy of 7 years