Because competitive parenting is not a real sport.
One of the few things that brings me more pain than clutter is realizing I am a cliché. So you can imagine the emotional turmoil caused by Marie Kondo’s Tidying Up phenomenon. My love of organization has deep roots. I grew up in a tools-on-a-pegboard, boxes-as-drawer-organizers house. In elementary school, I set aside entire Saturdays... Continue Reading →
There's nothing like bathing suit shopping with one's teenage daughter to foster a more nuanced and perhaps sympathetic perspective on Snow White's stepmother.
“Those are great pants!” I said to the mom next to me at the beach picnic. They were embroidered and loose, hitting mid-shin in that perfect casually-chic way. “Thanks,” she said. “They’re great because no one should see 45-year-old knees.” The other moms in the circle nodded and laughed, and the conversation moved on. I... Continue Reading →
The World's Okayest Mom 