Sometimes after several nights, my kiddos would become exasperated and my excuses became more elaborate . . . “This must be a busy tooth season,” I’d say.
I vividly remember whipping out the old “you’re not my mom” response when she told me to get a shower one day. Real classy. Despite my feistiness, she loved me. She leaned in to nourish our relationship and, before long, she became my best friend.
Toddler and tantrums often go hand-in-hand. But, I would suggest that at least 90 percent of the time, tantrums start because the expectations we have of our children are simply too high. We put them in situations they are not equipped to handle and then guess what happens . . . they explode.
We eventually get all five of us and the two dogs to the same spot. Of course, our precious middle daughter told me beforehand she would take one picture. Yes, ONE. Great, that’s only 146 less than we will need to take. So you can imagine she was a joy to work with while having her […]
While it’s not something particularly pleasant to consider, I firmly believe that we have an obligation as parents to teach our children how to mourn as surely as we teach them to ride a bike.
The fact that we now have the technology to isolate this fetal DNA from a blood sample from mom and reliably test for common genetic issues is even more fascinating. The implications of this are very personal to me, not just as an obstetrician, but as a mother who has utilized this testing myself.
Traditions are good enough in themselves; they provide a stability, framework, and anchor to childhood. But to me, Tree Night also serves to remind us where we’ve been, where we are, and that no matter where we’re going, we’re going there together. It provides context and produces gratefulness. And it’s really fun.