“Come over here!” my husband called to me and my younger son as we dawdled down the trail.
“What?” I yelled back, squinting at him and my older son.
“Just come look!” he said.
When Giving Is Worse Than Receiving as a Parent
As I approached the playground sandbox, I spotted my six- year-old marching away from it with purpose. My husband followed close behind. “We’ll find it!” he proclaimed.
“Find what?” I asked.
“The ball! We don’t know where it went,” my husband responded. Oops.
“I, uh, gave it away,” I admitted.
Cultivating kindness, sustainability, and wonder for the world around us
I tell stories that help us all work to be kinder to our families, communities and our broader world. I support families being more environmentally and socially sustainable through advice, resources, and encouragement based on solid social science and expertise. My science communication builds knowledge of and wonder for our natural world and appreciation for those who seek to understand it.
My book, Growing Sustainable Together: Practical Resources for Raising Kind, Engaged, Resilient Children was released in June 2020 with North Atlantic Books! You can order it anywhere books are sold, including your local bookstore, Amazon, and Barnes & Nobel.
Not Allowing Judgment to Take Up Space
“He’s so smart!” said the man sitting next me on the plane, referring to my older son. “I can tell by the questions he’s asking.”
“Uh, thanks,” I replied. To me, intelligence is a bit like physical beauty – nice to have, but not something I as a parent can take credit for, per say.
Talking to My Son About Refugees and Justice for Immigrants
“What is it? Please tell me,” my six year old asked, his eyes wide.
“No, it’s too sad,” I replied. I had been telling my husband about news involving the Immigration and Customs Enforcement raids to deport undocumented immigrants. My speaking in veiled terms sparked my son’s interest. Telling him it was too sad for him only fueled his curiosity more.
When Waffles Look Like Growing Up
This may look like a plate of waffles to you, but it looks like growing up to me.
“Mickey waffles!” my five year old (nicknamed Sprout) declared, holding the box up and spinning around. The waffles responded by flying out of the box and smashing into the floor. There wasn’t a single clean waffle left.
What Happens When We Choose Not to be the Heroes of the Story
“Heroes. Noble warrior heroes,” says Carol Danvers in the new movie Captain Marvel, referring to the group of aliens she’s part of.
Spoiler alert: that wording is a red flag.
What 13 Years of Marriage Looks Like
A Tale of Two Beds
Thump. I jumped up from the couch, startled by the noise. Running into my younger son’s room, I saw him on the floor. “Are you okay?” I asked. “No,” he said. He says “no” when he actually means yes and he seemed okay.
But I wasn’t okay. He had climbed out of his crib.
Happy Third Birthday, LIttle Bird
My younger son has always been little, despite wanting to be big. He shoved his way into the world three-and-a-half weeks early, being born at a mere five and a half pounds. He didn’t pass zero percent on the growth chart until he was a year old. And he’s the baby of the family. So my nickname for him is Little Bird.
Little Bird just turned three years old.
In the spirit of Sandra Boynton’s classic board book Little Pookie, where the small pig’s mom tells them 10 things she knows about them, here are ten things I know about Little Bird (as written to him, as in the book) on the occasion of his third birthday: