One Sunday a few weeks ago, I looked out my bedroom window to a perfect sunny day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I threw on a pair of capris and my silver Sperrys (the kind you wear with no socks) and headed to Max’s lacrosse game. Minutes after my arrival, the skies darkened to the point where I fully expected to hear a loud, booming voice, the temperature dropped 15 degrees, and we were in ...
Walking In A Winter Smotherland
It’s a funny thing, being Jewish in December. Chanukah came early this year. Not Thanksgivikah early, but early enough that it still caught me off-guard. Whenever there’s more than a week between the last night of Chanukah and winter break, I get cocky. I feel like I’ve been given the gift of time. But that feeling is very short-lived, because in reality, there’s only one thing that happens when ...
Camp Crazy
Every summer, there’s a catch phrase that’s blurted out so frequently during my interactions with parents that I often wonder if they secretly believe it’s the key to unlock the holy grail of childrearing: I’m not THAT parent. It’s never followed by any type of explanation of who THAT parent is. In my line of work, it’s assumed that I know. Spoiler alert: I KNOW. There’s another phrase ...
