I know I shouldn’t have more chocolate. I’ve lectured my kids a hundred times on the pitfalls of sugar addiction. And yet, here I am, as soon as they are out of sight, reaching for the candy drawer. I am a hypocrite.
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I’m not ready to leave it all behind again. But my children have not spent any time in the age-halting Neverland, and so they are growing up and leaving the stories of childhood behind.
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It’s the eve of New Year’s Eve and across the country people are making out a list of resolutions.
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Thanksgiving is but a few short days away. This is the week we all pause to reflect and be grateful. And today, I am grateful for nothing.
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With fall festivals to attend all month long, the costume construction starts in late September. That is when the final decisions must be made.
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I’m going to keep this short because I have a hand cramp. It’s a recurring condition that happens at the beginning of every school year.
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A trip to the supermarket gives me a hint of the culture of a city in the most accessible way — through the way they eat.
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Summer vacation for a kid is all about freedom, a chance to engage in their interests more intently and to explore their world in the extended daylight hours. But someone has to plan all that.
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It’s the time of year when parents and students are keeping a close eye on the mailbox. They’re on the lookout for those coveted thick acceptance envelopes and those dreaded thin rejections.
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As I helped my son fill out his registration forms for high school classes, all I could think was how little time I had left to parent him.
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Instead of a circa-2008 CD player, there’s a 7-inch media screen in the middle of the dash in our new Honda Accord. I can push one button to stream music from Pandora and another to chat with Siri.
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There was a time when parents had to wait weeks, even months, to find out how their child was performing at school. Report card day was a big deal. These days, middle school report cards are just a formality.
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I’m no technophobe. I tweet daily about my activities with the kids. I stalk like-minded strangers on Pinterest. I have an unhealthy obsession with playing Words With Friends 2 with my sister who lives 5,000 miles away. But I still love my Day Runner planner.
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It doesn’t matter where you go, the tree lot is a precarious scene. Lopsided trees threaten to topple. Shoppers fling away unwanted trees as they try to clear a path for themselves. Successful customers navigate the crowded aisles back to the checkout stand with their field of vision obscured by massive noble fir.
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Living on an island, the parenting game is different. There are fewer events and programs and no neighboring townships to drive to seeking more opportunities.
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I used to gripe the same way that Christmas shouldn’t come before Halloween. But after years of fighting the trend of an earlier and earlier Christmas shopping season, I changed my tune.
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Just as I charted my children’s first words, first foods and charming quotes over the years, I find myself tracking their ever-changing career ambitions. Their goals give me a window into their most beloved interests and their perceptions of the world.
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Every two years, youth baseball gets much harder as players progress through PONY or Little League. The field gets bigger, and with each up-sizing, the boys and girls are required to master new skills.
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My son is now 8, and his room overflows with all his “precious things”: shells and sea glass, sparkly bits of ribbon, broken crayons, paper clips and scraps of wrapping paper. I have a collector.
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It’s summertime, and like so many others I’m planning a Disney vacation, except I don’t know when we’re going.
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Like so many other commuters, every morning we pack up the car for a long trip through traffic. Once we leave home in Pearl City, we’re not venturing back, so we bring everything we need for the day.
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