A poor decision to scold kid publicly
Every parent of a teenager understands why Tommy Jordan was upset.
Every parent of a teenager understands why Tommy Jordan was upset.
What do teachers make?
You hear and read and learn things, helpful tips about raising kids, little bits of advice you squirrel away and hope to remember when your child gets to that mysterious next stage.
Reactions to last week’s column about skills children should have before they leave home fell into two general categories:
Recently I had lunch with a friend and her daughter, who attends Kansas State University.
I live with two middle-schoolers.
A few weeks ago, I wrote about new board games your family might consider for the holiday season.
Here’s a little thought that’s been bouncing around my weary, post-holiday brain:
There are so many wonderful things about playing card and board games with your kids: the family togetherness, the life lessons, the talking and laughing, the feeling that you’re doing something that doesn’t involve cords, screens or keyboards.
I had this idea of writing about how my son, Jack, has inherited my special brand of neuroses.
Today, families across Kansas and throughout the country will do something American families seldom do anymore:
I grew up in hurricane country, moved to Tornado Alley and spent last Saturday night like many Kansans, marveling at the rumbling, shifting, surprising power of my first earthquake.
Were having one of those dinner conversations where Jack starts out talking about math, which leads to Spanish, which leads to Europe, which reminds him of this awesome book about Ancient Rome, and hey, have you ever heard of a vomitorium?
If you listen to experts — the nameless, faceless people behind that ubiquitous phrase, “experts say” — you’d never let your kid touch a piece of technology.
A recent report from the International Center for Tropical Agriculture what, you dont subscribe? predicts that coffee and chocolate could become luxuries few can afford if temperatures continue to rise thanks to climate change.
I'd tell you right off the bat that this column is about scrapbooking, but I don't want you to roll your eyes and assume I'm just another mom who cuts pictures of her kids into cheesy heart shapes and splatters them with bunny stickers.
Remember when you were a child, sitting at the kitchen table after school, working on math problems — I'm sorry, we should probably call them math challenges — and thinking to yourself, "I can't wait to grow up so I won't have to do this (grumble-grumble) homework anymore"?
Are you outside right now? Did you take the newspaper onto the porch? Are you surfing the Internet on a laptop or smartphone in the yard? Do you look for ways to get outdoors every day, in heat, cold, rain or shine, and take your kids with you?
Now and again every 25 years or so, I'm told the newsroom where I work undergoes a top-to-bottom cleaning and re-organizing.
Sounds like there are lots of grownups out there who are learning to embrace their inner Clint Eastwoods. Last week's column, in which I admitted that I sometimes speak out against littering, jaywalking and other forms of obnoxious or dangerous kid behavior, struck a chord with readers.