Posts From: Motherhood

It’s hard to say whom separation anxiety hits harder — you or your child. I experienced my fair share of bad good-byes, especially with my daughter Maddie. On her first day of preschool, for example, she urgently whispered, “No, Mama, don’t go! Don’t leave me!” I still remember that viselike grip on my neck as I presserd her small wet cheek against mine. Those tiny arms obliterated my resolve to keep our parting short, to kiss her good-bye once and then hand her over to her competent, caring teachers. I did exactly what they had advised against: I stayed until snack time every day that week. Continue reading

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As parents, we want our children to be healthy and safe, but we also want them to be happy. Ironically, our wish for their happiness can sometimes get in the way of our really listening. We put in our emotional earplugs and hope that a child’s complaints just go away. Continue reading

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iStock_000009017267SmallI confess: When my firstborn was a baby, I occasionally wore the hat of helicopter parent. She would get frustrated or stuck or fussy, and I would swoop in to “save” her.

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holidaystresspostOne of the best (and free!) gifts we can give our kids this holiday season is to be cheerful, relaxed parents. Put these tips on your list of to dos — and definitely check it twice. Continue reading

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Give yourself credit for small acts of caring.

My to-do list has amazing regenerative powers. For each "to-do" I slash off, two more magically appear in its place. But whenever I have a day that feels particularly unproductive, I take a second to remember Lego Man’s hair.  Yes, you read that right: I’m talking about the tiny piece of plastic that fits on Lego figures’ heads. I call this to mind because of an incident that happened a few years ago on a not-so-wonderful day.  Continue reading

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Illustration by Sophie Pleshette

Rethink family rituals.

When my kids were young, I was obsessed with a desire to have dinner as a family every single night.  I had read the research on the importance of family meals and despite the fact that Steve and I rarely managed to get home from work before 7 - closer to the kids’ bedtime than their dinnertime - I would attempt to throw some kind of meal on the table before the kids had a total meltdown. Suffice it to say, I rarely succeeded. I would then complain to Steve that we had to get home earlier, that depriving the kids of warm family-dinner memories would lead them straight to the psychiatrist’s couch, and so on and so on.  Continue reading

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