Enjoy a space adventure with Barney
If your kids are fans of the big purple dinosaur, here’s a treat they can’t miss—“Barney’s Space Adventures.”
If your kids are fans of the big purple dinosaur, here’s a treat they can’t miss—“Barney’s Space Adventures.”
For too many people, autism is simply a word used to broadly describe anything different. Autism is a cruel joke or insult. Autism is something that “other” families deal with. It is a complicated puzzle meant for doctors and scientists to unlock. In other words, it’s not our problem.
Time to panic. Our second baby is due in one month, and we haven’t even settled on a name yet. Having been through this all before, I thought it would be easier the second time around, but that’s just not the case.
Are you hunting for fun activities for your kids this summer? Cooking and baking are not just for grownups anymore. With the popularity of “Junior Masterchef” and the reality TV shows with real-life chefs, children are curious to don a chef’s jacket and play with food.
Every week, after my husband reads my column, he asks me the same question: “When are you going to change your column picture?” He then talks about putting a more “recent” shot of our son, Juanmi. Now this “recent” bit really puzzles me, because when I look at the photo, I don’t see any difference between how he looks in it and how he looks in real life.
“Why so drastic?” This was the initial response when I announced over a month ago to my email contacts that I had deleted my Facebook account and was giving my cell phone a limited life span. Those who knew me well enough did not ask for details. It was a heart-and-gut-driven decision (too much going on in the head to lengthily process the pros and cons).
Inspiration, just like passion, doesn’t have to come with booming trumpets and Nobel Peace Prize awards. Usually, they’re just waiting to be discovered right under our nose just like in the case of my new mommy friend, Anna.
Up until very recently, my preschooler had no clue that she could actually bring home any toy she wanted from a toy store (providing mama pays for it, of course).
Don’t tell the Parenting Police. I fed my kid a chocolate bar. With sugar. And red food coloring.
The “F” word has landed in our home. No, not that “F”word. I’m talking about the other one: FAT.
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