It seems you can’t avoid hearing about how my
generation of parents is overprotective and isn’t allowing its kids to learn
about failure and resilience. Every time I’ve read an article about helicopter
parenting, I’ve sighed and thought “so glad that’s not me.”
The other day, however, I heard the propellers and
they were coming from me.
Each morning I drop off my 6-year-old at school
and I wait on the playground until the teacher comes to take the kids inside. While
we wait, my daughter usually heads off with a friend or two, and ...
As I was reading an article on happiness—much of
the tips I’ve heard before—the final fact caught my eye. It said that people
naturally become happier with age, particularly after hitting middle age.
Being on the cusp of middle age, I was
intrigued. The article mentioned a number of scientific theories: we remember
happy memories more strongly than negative ones, we weed out people and things
that make us unhappy and we focus less on goals and more on well-being.
This last part aligns with a theory I’ve been
developing about capacity. In talking with friends ...
You know the phrase “it’s like riding a bike,”
which implies that once you learn how to ride a bike, you’ll never forget. Well
it isn’t true.
I was that kid who learned to ride a bike one
summer and had to relearn the next. I was also the kid who took forever
learning to roller skate and the kid who got a ‘D’ in jump roping in
fifth-grade gym class. To be fair, my gym teacher was a complete bitch who
scarred me for life, but that’s a post for another time.
One of my ...
In preparation for the Mardi Gras celebration at my daughter’s
school, I found myself blowing up festive balloons in purple, green and gold
for a giant balloon drop. Who doesn’t love balloons, right?
Me, that’s who. In fact I hate them. It goes beyond hate. I’m
mildly terrified of them. Watching someone rub a balloon on their head and
stick it on the wall fills me with panic.
It’s an irrational fear that stems back to childhood when I watched
one of those giant punching balloons explode on my babysitter’s face as she
In preparation for an upcoming family weekend at an indoor
water park, I made a bold move. I found my bikini tucked in the back of the
drawer and put it on—in the dead of winter. Brave!
Shockingly, my pasty-white reflection in the mirror didn’t
cause me to run screaming from the bathroom and into the first pair of
sweatpants I could find. A month of hard training for a half-marathon has
created definition in muscles I didn’t even know I had. Instead of cringing, I
So why then, am I reluctant to wear said ...