A Dog's Diary- What if your dog were a better writer than W. Bruce?
Not too hard to imagine, is it? Maybe while you're out
of the house, your pet turns on the PC and keeps a
journal of the day's events. If so, this is what it might
look like...
A Pubescent Plague- The world is truly becoming a frightful place to live. Almost daily we are exposed to a fresh new array of life-threatening dangers ... like for instance, that hideous rumor of a Scott Baio career comeback attempt.
Accident Report- The following accident reports were filed in conjunction with an automobile collision in which my two daughters somehow managed to run into each other in their own driveway. Both of my vehicles sustained damage.
Apparatus Advantage- It's a common theme amongst
generations that one always
claims that they had it the
toughest. Being on the cusp of
the baby boomer generation and
never having had to fight in
foreign wars or living through a
great depression, I have to stretch to tell my children
how difficult I've had it.
Baby Blessings- There are obvious joys of being a parent to a young bundle of joy, but there are also things you likely never considered:
Bacteria- With one act to go, and no sundae left, my eyes and ears were fully tuned for a musical
treat. Pushing "record" on the recorder I set it on the table and waited.
A wiry little man introduced the next act.
"And now, live from Portsmouth High, I'm happy to present Dirt!"
"Dirt?"
Battle of the Generations, Round One- Why do kids push buttons and then have the nerve to look surprised when you ground them?
It's Monday and already I can tell that the rest of the week is going to be trying. Thanks to my nine-year old son, Mr. Attitude, most of the fun things I had planned to do with him this week have been cancelled.
Birth of a Hamster- I had to take my son's hamster to the vet. Here's what happened: Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was "something wrong" with one of the two hamsters he holds prisoner in his room.
Business Memos to my Child- Leafing through the sacks of three-part forms, I began
to wonder what it would be like if my family used this
cryptic method of communication to talk to each other,
instead of the usual shouts and threats. A typical
exchange with my thirteen-year-old son might go like this...
Cats Provide Cheap Entertainment- Do you remember those Saturday mornings when you were a kid and watched Bugs Bunny cartoons until noon? Do you remember the really, really large pink bunny with the Russian accent that fell madly in love with Bugs during one episode?
She's famous for squealing: "Give me LARGE bunya hugs!!!" And then she squeezes the life out of poor Bugs.
Well we have this cat... And I'm not saying she's fat, but to say she is pleasantly plump is putting it nicely.
Confessions of a Holiday Fake- It all started with the tree. I never liked Charlie Brown's tree. I only liked Snoopy's. Blame it on years of inhaling evergreen-scented artificial snow fumes, but I find no Christmas inspiration in driving to a forest, which used to be my grocery store parking lot and haggling with a tattooed guy named Zeke, over a languishing live tree.
Daughters Driving- My daughters are driving.
Let me explain what this means.
It means that two teenage girls
whose primary method of
observation is "distraction" are out
there aiming tons of metal at
everything moving. When you see
one of my daughters approaching,
do not panic. You should (a) pull your vehicle over to
the side of the road, and (b) lie face-down in a ditch.
Fashion Or Fiction- Giving birth to my daughter prompted me to evaluate myself. Much to my dismay, this in-depth analysis revealed a mix of 15% worrywart, 22% night owl and (gasp) 63% cellulite.
Father's Day 101- Anyone will tell you, becoming a father is a learning process. There are things, though, that you can't read in a book or hear from your parents or even Oprah. Many things you just have to come to know on your own.
Gentlemen! Start Your Engines!- Yesterday I took my four-year-old daughter, Delaney, grocery shopping
with me. The store had those cute little kiddy carts that make preschoolers
feel grown-up and helpful. But by the glazed look in her eyes, I knew this
simple cart had mutated into a road racing, fire blazing, speed-demon hotrod.
God Rest Ye Merry PokeMoms- Have some fun! Find some humor in the never ending search for
the ever popular toy of the season, whatever it may be this year!
Sing this to the tune of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen".
Hell Hath No Fury As A Teen Ager with Power Steering- My teenage son, David, enrolled in the Drivers Education course offered by the local High School, but before unleashing him to what was sure to be a frazzled instructor, I decided to teach him the driving basics in the family car -- not the new one.
How to Survive the Birthday Party Circuit - Or Not- I?ve been to 100 parties this year. It seems like 100, anyway. I was invited to none of them. They were for my 100 children. It seems like 100, anyway. Actually, I think I have three. For all our children?s parties, my husband and I serve as unpaid chauffeurs and chaperones.
It's Not My Fault- I now have three teenagers under my roof. This is not my fault. It can't be my fault, because with teenagers, nothing is anybody's fault. Stuff just happens for no reason, like floods, and with no explanation, like Wayne Newton.
Laundry Day- As usual, I'm the one who was blamed for the recent family crisis, even though, as readers of this column well know, I am a sensitive and humble husband who is right pretty much 100 percent of the time.
Letter to the Principal- Dear Ms. Cameron:
Thank you for your letter. Yes, we are pleased to report,
your father's old high school is still standing and our library
was able to locate yearbooks dating "all the way back" to
his graduation. In fact, a few teachers even remember your
father, which I will get to in a moment.
Mission Impossible- After twelve weeks of hearing "I?m bored" and "It?s too hot to play
outside," I am more than ready to send my little angels back to
school. As the first day of enrollment rolls around, I am never sure
if I should celebrate with champagne or prepare with migraine medication.
Mom! Everybody Else Has ______!- I love outdoor Christmas lights; on other people?s houses. This is
not a scientific study or anything, but it seems to me the grandest
Christmas displays are by those who A) don?t have children; B) are
grandparents; or C) are wealthy enough to not personally be the one
standing on the ladder with lights draped like a tangled pageant banner.
Mom's Time-out Is Too Nerve Wracking- I just wanted a LITTLE break. Not that 'me time' that is so fashionable these days, just a bathroom break. Can't a grown woman go to the bathroom alone and have 15 minutes of peace and not have a nervous breakdown?
Monkey See, Monkey Do- It's easy to agree that setting a good example for our
children is important. We can also agree that setting
a good example has its? price.
My Holiday Calendar- You've probably seen the calendars Martha Stewart publishes. She graciously shares her schedule with us so we can all use it to help us plan our holidays.
So in the same spirit, I thought I'd go back to last year's calendar and share my schedule with you all.
My Mother The Spy- I firmly believe that my mother is a spy. Not the run of the mill, garden variety snoop, but a hard core, James Bond-rivaling agent of intrigue and defender of national security. Not only did she have eyes in the back of her head, but there were other clues to tip me off, as well.
My Mother's Garden- I despised everything she grew, though when I discovered what happened when I loaded a cherry tomato in my slingshot and plastered my friend Drake in the center of his T-shirt, I experienced a joy so pure I almost passed out. At dinner, when served grilled zucchini on a bun with a thick slice of zucchini (hamburger with tomato), I twisted my face into an expression of agony, clutched my stomach, and fell to the floor.
My Parent's Conversation- As a general rule, I prefer to talk to my parents singly, alone, and briefly. However, since they are, after all, married, I sometimes can't avoid a conversation with the two of them together.
Lest this seem harsh, I offer the following unedited, uncut transcript of a recent discussion I had with them.
Paternal Proclamations- It has come to my attention that all of you are, on occasion, leaving a good quarter of an inch of milk in the bottoms of your glasses. Since milk is an expensive commodity, and we do not yet own a cow, you are forevermore required to finish your milk at every meal. Any public comments before this goes on the refrigerator?
July 4th is almost here. Celebrate Independence Day this year with crafts, recipes and plenty of other ideas. Here are a few examples to get you started...
Fun Picture Riddles Help with Letter Recognition: Scholastic has done it again, releasing yet another fabulous book in its popular I Spy series. This time Jean Marzollo's witty riddles married with Walter Wick's vibrant photographs make for a fun and engaging read for children of all ages. Through the seemingly magical power of rhyme and repetition, children will obtain several early reading skills without even trying!
Family Matters Radio
FMR is a nationally syndicated radio program developed to help you live your best life, hosted by Caroline & Jacquie. No rants and raves - you get enough of that from your kids. Choose a segment below to begin listening!
Why do kids push buttons and then have the nerve to look surprised when you ground them?
It's Monday and already I can tell that the rest of the week is going to be trying. Thanks to my nine-year old son, Mr. Attitude, most of the fun things I had planned to do with him this week have been cancelled.
Do you remember those Saturday mornings when you were a kid and watched Bugs Bunny cartoons until noon? Do you remember the really, really large pink bunny with the Russian accent that fell madly in love with Bugs during one episode?
She's famous for squealing: "Give me LARGE bunya hugs!!!" And then she squeezes the life out of poor Bugs.
Well we have this cat... And I'm not saying she's fat, but to say she is pleasantly plump is putting it nicely.
It all started with the tree. I never liked Charlie Brown's tree. I only liked Snoopy's. Blame it on years of inhaling evergreen-scented artificial snow fumes, but I find no Christmas inspiration in driving to a forest, which used to be my grocery store parking lot and haggling with a tattooed guy named Zeke, over a languishing live tree.
I just wanted a LITTLE break. Not that 'me time' that is so fashionable these days, just a bathroom break. Can't a grown woman go to the bathroom alone and have 15 minutes of peace and not have a nervous breakdown?
Fun Picture Riddles Help with Letter Recognition
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