Why I Kissed Play Dates Goodbye

Why I Kissed Play Dates Goodbye

by Lauren Hartmann

When I was a new mom, I was pretty clueless about all things parenting. Thankfully, I got a crash course in motherhood from friends (and the Internet). One thing I learned very quickly was that play dates were the new happy hour. It was a way for moms to get out of the house and hang out with other adults, while keeping the littles entertained. 

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The "Three Jar" Approach to Allowances

The "Three Jar" Approach to Allowances

by Carrie Southworth

“Mommy, how do I make money? You know, to buy stuff.”

Once again, stumped by my 5-year-old daughter, Savannah.

Up until this point, I tried to run our household in a very specific way — my husband compares it to a hippy commune. “We’re all citizens of the house,” I would tell my children. We all had jobs as citizens; we all had to pitch in.

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I Don't Have "Just" One Child

I Don't Have "Just" One Child

by Victoria Fedden

I don’t get upset when someone asks why I only have one child. I just smile politely and explain to them (usually in a little more detail than they bargained for) that a million different variables simply didn’t add up in the right place and the right time for us to have a larger family.

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Parenting in an Echo Chamber

Parenting in an Echo Chamber

by Chad Carter

I grew up in the age of Walkmans, Discmans, and stereo surround sound. You know, with the headphones that had the flimsy wire that traversed over the top of your head. Admit it — we looked cool. I’ve been coming to reminisce on this time lately and decided it’s a shame my son will never experience the frustration of a skipping CD or the magnetic tape of a cassette getting wrapped around one of those little pegs and ruining your favorite music.

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It Took My 5-Year-Old to Help Me Get Over My Fear of Roller Coasters

It Took My 5-Year-Old to Help Me Get Over My Fear of Roller Coasters

by Victoria Fedden

Last month my daughter turned 5 and to celebrate we took her to Disney World. Pretty much a dream come true for her, but not for me. I was excited, but also secretly terrified.

“Mommy, now that I’m 5, I’m big enough to ride roller coasters,” she’d announced. I almost had a heart attack. My baby? On a rickety metal train? Careening down a 50-foot fiberglass mountain? No way. I broke out into a cold sweat just imagining it.

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