It was my daughter’s birthday last month. As she leaned over her birthday cake, she could barely contain her excitement. She knew exactly what was in the wrapped box on the table. She had waited (and pleaded) for it. She 

Inspired by the Japanese organizing consultant, Marie Kondo, I am a recently converted minimalist and a zealous de-clutterer. I am in total awe of this woman, a modern prophet who has earned millions showing people around the world how to 

Running into an old classmate from college, my first question to her was, “Do you still dance?” “Mom, dance?! No way!” The tween boy beside her stared at me like I was crazy. Yet I remembered her to be a 

The moment he realized I was pregnant, my husband went out and brought every book he could find on parenting tips. He pored over them and, armed with his new knowledge, would hold forth to older family members (all of 

What I really want to be is an easy-going, calm mother. But if you were a fly on the wall in our home, you might accuse my husband and me of being over-earnest parents. We use every opportunity to teach 

On their ride to school every morning, my children drive through a large slum. Even as poverty stares them in the face, they don’t seem particularly bothered by people sleeping on the streets or squatting by the roadside. They aren’t 

Pushing, punching, biting, hair-pulling was all a regular part of how my younger brother and I settled our differences as children. The fights were always over very important issues: a favorite T-shirt ‘borrowed’ without permission, bathroom lights switched off while 

My kids and I are accompanying my husband on a pilgrimage: a visit to his boarding school. It has been 25 years since he graduated and yet, memories of his time there evoke in him a great joy. He takes 

“We’re all going on a summer holiday, doing things we’ve always wanted to. Fun and laughter on a summer holiday, no more worries for me and you… for a week or two.” So goes the Cliff Richards song, evoking a 

“We like to sleep in her bed,” my son declares. “Her ghost is there.” I think of all the fears my children have had – of spiders, of lizards, and other tiny creatures. Yet, this notion of a ghost under 

“Ten, thirty, thirty-two, thirty-seven….” My son counts painstakingly as he sits in front of a pile of coins and notes. Beside him, his older sister is drawing elaborate columns and rows in neon ink – a tween’s version of a