It’s time to stand up for the kitchen apron! It got a bad rap in the 70’s as a potent symbol of female domestic slavery. To this I say: “Bah humbug!” Outdated paradigms begone! Why should I deprive myself of…
It’s time to stand up for the kitchen apron! It got a bad rap in the 70’s as a potent symbol of female domestic slavery. To this I say: “Bah humbug!” Outdated paradigms begone! Why should I deprive myself of…
My house used to seem really, really BIG, but that was when all five kids were knee-high to a grasshopper. Now that they have quite selfishly and inconsiderately grown UP into large-size human beings, things feel really, really SMALL around…
I once worked for a fellow devotee of the written word who was not just a librarian but the daughter of a librarian. One day she saw me holding Laura Ingalls Wilder’s “Little House On The Prairie,” and, clutching…
My children are NUTS. They are obsessed with my triceps, or actually the jiggly skin on the back of my upper arm where my triceps should be. They’re teenagers, for heaven’s sake! It’s been YEARS since they used me as a jungle…
Leap Year took off at my house in May, when Swoosh graduated from the University of Leaps and Bounds and began cutting an entrepreneurial swath through the Seattle music scene with an alacrity that did not surprise Old Mother in…
Hi! I’m your new room parent. Come on in and grab a seat. I know they’re small, but we won’t be long. To prevent imprints on your posterior I suggest the occasional shift from one buttock to another. Please stow…
Yes, they do it, each in his or her own inimitable way, even the ones who don’t really live here anymore. Now you personally may feel that your children mistake you for a wallet or a refrigerator, and yes, that…
Some things we used to do seems like you don’t see a lot of anymore these days–games we used to play, ones that used hand/eye coordination, like jacks, or jumprope, or clapping games, accompanied by chants, or singing. And singing–we…
Penrod screeches to a halt in the freezer section and throws a sixty-four count box of chicken taquitos into the cart. He blasts off again, sparks flying. I scramble to keep up, but the playing field is not level because…
November 27, 2014. Wow. It’s almost the end of November! As we careen headlong into the Great Holiday Trifecta I suddenly realize this means that the school year has started. Yes, Old Mother is a bit slow on the uptake.…