I believe in microbes. Microbes are like God. You can’t hear them, taste them, smell them or see them with the naked eye. But you know they’re there. Lately, I’ve had more experiences with microbes than with God. I’ve been sick a lot. Read more.
Oakland Tribune
Help! My Kids Aren’t Perfect After All
The kids were still pre-schoolers at the time, and it had been another night of sleep deprivation for me. “Tell me it gets easier,” I said to my friend Nancy. “Well, actually it gets harder,” she replied. Nancy has a daughter three years older than Peter. She keeps me briefed on the parenting realities ahead. Read more.
Scrubbing the Floor With My Daughter Cinderella
There was no getting around it. Christina, who is 51/2, intended to wash our kitchen floor. She had been studying her “Cinderella” videotape for weeks, and now she wanted nothing more than to scrub. Read more
Why Can’t a Dad Be More Like a Mom? . . . Do We Really Want Them To Be?
My friend Carol calls them “the little inequities.” She is talking about the small, countless ways that men fail to notice what needs to be done for their children. Read more.
A Case of the Human Condition: The Day She Popped the Question
Things were getting serious. My boyfriend had moved his goldfish into my apartment. I had returned from a long weekend to find that Jon had moved his dimestore pets from his place to mine. He was sheepish about this.
A Case of the Human Condition: Choose Me, Please!
Jury duty is a lot like fourth grade softball. Something in me wants to be on the team. If there is choosing going on, I want to be among the chosen. Read more.