The older I get, the more I realize how much there’s yet to learn. Life lessons are never-ending and have no age limits — thank goodness. Often, they are achieved through blood, sweat and tears, which makes them more valuable than the newest piece of technology or fancy car parked in the driveway. And, unlike the newest 4G gizmo, their relevance endures through generations.
It was a party 14 years in the making. Attendees included nine moms who met when our kids were in preschool. Now, we came together to anticipate and celebrate those same preschoolers’ high school graduations.
Dirty little secrets. None of us are completely immune. We all have them — pesky yet irresistible traits or habits or desires we try to hide from everyone except ourselves. Some of us even attempt to shield the truth from the person staring back at us in the mirror.
“Two wrongs don’t make a right, but three lefts do.” – Eric Parslow Whether you’re turning a corner or signing your name, being left is hardly ever right. That’s because lefties are in the minority. Only about 10 percent of the population is left-handed.
‘At’ – the two-letter combination originates from humble beginnings as a simple word that required a quick couple hits to the computer keyboard. I grew up knowing when to use ‘at’ within a sentence (but never at the end of one). The tiny word stayed out of the limelight and didn’t get a whole lot of attention — until the pint-sized preposition made the transition from word to symbol and suddenly @ was the place to be.
The warrior enters the arena prepared for battle, or at least an extensive period of intense physical, mental and vocal workout. She has marched to a similar beat on previous occasions and knows the drill as well as any sergeant.
Attention all consumers who are troubled by the hazards of everyday life: If you sneeze on occasion, stumble on the stairs, experience halitosis, gastrointestinal upset, acne, headaches or hangnails, if you misplace your car keys, shiver when chilly, sweat when overheated or find yourself tired at the end of the day, we have good news for you.
TVs have been on my mind lately. I’m not normally much of a TV person. Of course I watch TV, but I don’t often contemplate the TV I’m watching. I like to keep the activity as brainless as possible.
Before reading any further, be forewarned: This is not a story for the weak of heart.
In previous columns, I defined parenthood as an infinite act of optimism. You enter the job with open arms and an open heart, trusting the child you’ve been entrusted with will learn, grow and love under your humble tutelage. Loving one child is optimistic — two, doubly so. Imagine taking responsibility for 20, or maybe 25.
Twice in the last month, I’ve found myself in an uncomfortable position. It’s not what you might think. I wasn’t in an exercise class or a dentist’s chair. My discomfort didn’t have anything to do with driving the kids to school before my morning shower or even wearing a cotton gown that tied in back.
This week put an official end to Daylight Savings Time for the year. Most of us dutifully set our clocks back an hour, and didn’t give much thought to the matter. In November we “fall back,” in March, we “spring ahead.” So what?
Just when you thought it was safe to put your single, sequined glove back into the drawer, you realize that Michael Jackson may be dead, but he’s far from over.