Kids who first visit our house always say the same thing:
‘You live in a library!’
We don’t, but we love reading. Heaving bookshelves embrace our walls, and books pile up beside our beds. Lucky for our kids, reading is not simply a life-enriching hobby. It will likely give them enduring benefits, something Dolly Parton knows all about.
Let me explain.
Access to books in the home can positively influence your child’s academic success. Why? Because reading will give your child an expansive vocabulary and delivers them a pathway to more knowledge.
But in a world beset with inequality, access…
The sun hugged my shoulders, but instead of enjoying her warmth, something my neighbor said disturbed me.
Watching my kids play, she leaned over, and muttered her granddaughter’s distress:
‘Don’t make me go back to school. It’s so bad, I’d rather have dad homeschool me.’
A classmate had yanked her ponytail again. A vintage move, like my neighbor’s effort to comfort her darling:
‘Don’t worry Faye, he’s mean because he likes you.’
While her words meant to make Faye feel better, something didn’t sound right, so I consulted my PA Google afterward.
Here’s what I found: why you…
Racism has no place in football, but heroes do.
This story is not the post I set out to write.
I had a draft on Marcus Rashford MBE- a football leader-and hoped a favorable result on Sunday would make my story more compelling.
It wasn’t to be. England lost the final of the Euro championship, following an agonizing penalty shootout, with Marcus Rashford, my son’s footballing hero, hitting the post. Then, two more misses for England and tears running down my boy’s cheek confirmed his world had ended; 3–2 for Italy.
The sad news didn’t end here, so I reframed…
I won’t lie; I have a curious mind.
When I meet people, I want to know all about them; do they argue with their siblings? What about kids? Do they have a secret favorite? Hell, even their shoe size is interesting to me. I thought it was just a character trait. Until I read Maggie La Faye’s enlightening post on moving to Amsterdam, where she says:
‘I have found that part of the famous Dutch directness includes directly asking questions about many things that sometimes have shocked me.’
I understand newcomers view our curiosity as directness, but to me, it’s…
What I’m about to say might surprise you.
The last lockdown did not make my kids’ screentime soar.
Apart from a weekly school zoom, some hamfisted typing, and a few episodes of Horrible Histories, our kids didn’t follow the well-worn path of lockdown kids on screens you hear about in the media.
Instead, they played outside on our (shared) patch of grass, kicking a ball, playing tennis, and disrupting local worm families with tiny twigs.
Parents of every generation feel raising kids is more challenging than it was for their caregivers, with values changing along with society.
But we have…
My son has a unique talent. He’s so prolific; I have a nickname for him in my head.
I call him the dodger.
Every time I ask my children to do housework, he vanishes, leaving behind a trail of breadcrumbs and peanut butter smears.
I want him to contribute as much as his sister, so I don’t give in. I leave his mess until he clears it, even if that means you can hide a dead body in his room.
I don’t think I’m the only parent struggling with this gender imbalance.
A longitudinal study, “Growing up in Ireland,” has…
Family is his first love, music a close second.
My father is a man of few words. Music is his language, instead.
I think of him in sounds: snippets of banjo, practicing trombone, and whistling while cycling.
When he wasn’t playing, he’d be tapping his foot to the beat of whatever music was on. Always loud and louder still when mum was out.
The soundtrack of my youth was a mish-mash of Dixieland jazz, the Beatles, and Queen until marching bands stole his heart. Thankfully I moved out by then.
My dad, tall and musical, always there.
I don’t remember…
My friend, Emma*, struggles with her daughter over one thing, just one.
But this issue is at the root of all conversations, arguments, and whispered accusations.
Her 11-year-old, Amy* wants to join Instagram because, guess what, all her friends are on it.
Emma stands firm. Instagram’s age limit is 13, making it illegal for her daughter to use it. Also, she reckons Amy is not emotionally equipped yet to join the worst social media platform for youth mental health, friends or no friends.
Writer, book nerd & owner of screen savvy parenting site Bumpsnbeyond.com. Top writer in Parenting. Interests: consumer & cyberpsychology.