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I love going out to celebrate my friends or just going out to have a good time with good people. But there comes a point during every outing where I feel like it’s time to leave. And for some reason, I seem to reach this point sooner than other people. Maybe I have less stamina or maybe it’s that my kids wake up at 6:04 every morning, give or take 30 seconds, but it always seems I’m ready to go before most others. It’s never too early on, but I always feel a little funny...

I have a potty mouth, and while some people think that’s low class, to me it’s just second nature. My dad was raised in a Brooklyn housing project and he cursed so much that by the time I was a teen, I was swearing to express everything from happiness to anger to what I wanted for lunch. And I never really thought about it. Until I had kids. Once there were babies around me, I toned it all the way down. For years I substituted obscenities with silly words like “fudge”...

A few weeks ago, I found myself lamenting how little I know about the solar system. Despite my four children, career and lack of any free time whatsoever, I figured I should cram in some time to learn about the planets. Maybe make a diorama while I was at it.  That’s why I was so excited when I opened my children’s backpacks and found an awesome solar system project for two of them to do at home, laid out over several pages of instructions.  There was even a handy checklist...

Last week I took my kids out for breakfast, and as they excitedly took their seats at IHOP, our waiter placed giant glossy menus on the table. The menus were covered in pictures of all the massive stacks of breakfast foods at their disposal. “Get whatever you want, guys,” I said to their delight, as I eyed images of waffles and French toast and eggs, feeling like mother of the year. “Mommy, I want a burger with bacon and French fries, definitely,” sang my 6-year-old son....

Last year, my husband overheard a friend excitedly telling me about her favorite slow cooker recipes, to which I replied, “I should try that.” In response, he bought me a Crock-Pot for the holidays, which he thought I would love. The Crock-Pot remained unopened in its giant box in a corner of our kitchen until last month, when my husband finally opened it himself and cooked up a hearty stew. Now he loves the Crock-Pot. But I hate it. Before all of you enthusiasts start...

If you haven’t heard, this year’s must-have, hottest, knock-someone-over-on-Black-Friday toy is Hatchimals, interactive creatures that come locked inside an egg. The only way to get them to hatch is to nurture them with play, and once the animal literally pecks its way out, your kid then gets to raise their creature through three stages of childhood. Sounds pretty great, but I’m glad my kids haven’t heard of them, because these bad boys have been sold out everywhere...

Every day, one of my three little boys comes tearing through the house screaming “Mommy, he hit me,” followed closely by another little boy screaming, “But Mommy he hit me first.” Most parents of little boys know what I’m describing. So when that happens, I’ll get both boys in front of me, scream at them not to use their hands (as I threaten to use my hands) and then send them back to playing. I also have a daughter, and very often she comes racing through the...

Wow, did you just blink and suddenly summer is over? I mean, it’s already Labor Day, which means the first day of school is here, and we all know what that means. Pretty soon our kids will be hearing this: “OK guys, get together. Now smile. Can you stop doing that? Just look at me. Smile. STOP. Put your arm down. Make a normal face. I’m warning you. PLEASE STOP. Look at me. Say cheese!” Got it! And when you finally have that perfect shot and you send your little ones off...

Dear Mom in the Supermarket, I saw you last week, with a big pregnant belly, pushing your shopping cart and smiling. You must be exhausted! And your little boy sitting on top of the wagon, he was so cute. He couldn’t have been more than 18-months old, right? Remember when you were feeling the avocados and he picked one up and just threw it on the floor? That little old lady passing by giggled and called him a real firecracker. Then you both laughed a bit. It was a sweet moment. Here’s...

Last week a friend called me from her tropical vacation. “I’m on the beach right now,” she said over the sound of waves, adding “I even slept until 9:00 today.” “Wow, I’m jealous,” I said. “I think I had mom guilt 20 times by 9 a.m.!” We both laughed, but I wasn’t kidding. I seriously had mom guilt at least 20 times by 9 a.m. It’s easy to feel bad about how you do things when you’re responsible for someone else’s life and well-being. So how did I get...

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