School is back in session for my kids, and it's a pretty low-key affair around here—no Facebook photos or special outfits. Our days are much calmer now, which is a sharp contrast to how things used to be.
Just the other day, Facebook reminded me of a chaotic morning from a few years ago. We were running late, as usual, with the kids rushing out the door, breakfast in hand, as they piled into the minivan. About two miles from home, my daughter started screaming about a spider crawling on the window. I tried rolling the window down to let it out, but it clung on stubbornly. Thankfully, I had an empty coffee mug in the cup holder from the day before, so I handed it to her to squish the spider. Instead, she threw the cup at it! Both the spider and my mug went flying out the window.
I had to pull over and dash to retrieve the mug from the side of the road. When I got back in the car, I told the kids to finish eating. That’s when my daughter discovered she’d been sitting in her toast and jelly during the entire spider battle. I handed her a roll of paper towels, and we just kept moving forward toward school.
It was one of those mornings I’ll never forget. I’m not sure when the shift happened, but we don’t have mornings like that anymore. Those wild, JACK’d-up moments are now blurry memories we can laugh about. I share this to remind other parents—there’s another side to the chaos. The days are long and hard, but the years really do fly by.

When my children first started school, we had some memorable experiences. I vividly remember my oldest child's first day of kindergarten. I made sure she went to bed early, prepared her school bag, and carefully selected the perfect dress from her new back-to-school wardrobe—a cute little dress with frogs wearing pink bows, perfectly capturing her personality.
The next day, I eagerly awaited to hear about her first day. When she climbed into the car, I asked, "How was your day?"
"It was great!" she replied.
"Did anyone like your dress?" I asked.
"Yeah! Elloree said she has the same one at home, but hers is a nightgown," my daughter said, matter-of-factly.
My eyes widened in disbelief. I casually checked the label on the back of her dress. Sure enough, it read, "Flame resistant SLEEPWEAR."
Yes, my daughter had worn a nightgown on her very first day of school. In my defense, nightgowns should not be sold on hangers!

There’s something magical about the simple joy of pushing your child on a swing. The rhythmic motion, the wind in their hair, and the pure delight on their face as they soar through the air—it's a cherished moment for any parent. But sometimes, even the most idyllic scenes can take an unexpected turn.

One sunny afternoon, I found myself at our neighborhood park with my four energetic kids. The swing, as always, was a favorite. Our park had a large, circular swing that could hold my whole crew. With a gleam of excitement in their eyes, they hopped onto the swing and asked me to push. I began pushing gently, gradually building momentum. Laughter filled the air.

They kept asking to go higher and higher. Eager to oblige, I gave one strong push, sending the swing into an exhilarating arc. But in my enthusiasm, I stumbled, lost my balance, and was thrown into the air. My fall, unfortunately, was cushioned not by soft mulch but by an unsuspecting ant pile.
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The shock of the fall was quickly overshadowed by the sharp, stinging bites of the disturbed ants. I glanced up to see my children doubled over in laughter. Once the initial chaos subsided, we all found ourselves laughing at the absurdity of the situation. It was a reminder that even in the midst of a perfect moment, life has its ways of keeping us grounded—sometimes quite literally.

So, the next time you’re at the swing, remember: push with care, mind your footing, and always check for ants. Life’s little surprises are inevitable, but they’re also what make our stories worth telling.

​This is the time of year when we hear the ringing of bells among the hustle and bustle of holiday shopping. As I have discussed before, shopping with the kids in tow can be an adventure. I think it's that way for most parents. My mother, however, was a master at getting her kids to behave while out in public. 

​Every year, I am reminded of my mother's greatness when it came to getting her kids to shape up. It was a cold, December evening, and my mother needed to stop by the store on the way home. My sister and I bickered about everything: who got to sit in the front seat, who got to walk next to Mom, who got to push the cart, etc. Then we heard the ringing of bells and saw the red kettle. Curious, I asked my mother what the bells were about. Without hesitation and with a straight face, she said, "That's where you drop off kids who are misbehaving."

​My eyes widened and I tightened my grip on mother's arm. My sister and I didn't make a peep. My mother had no issues from either of us and was able to complete her shopping in heavenly peace.

It is Black Babywearing Week. Anthropologists believe one of the very first tools developed by humans was the infant carrier. Constructed from animal skin and plants, babywearing allowed parents to have their hands free while foraging for food. It wasn’t until the 1930s with mass production, interchangeable parts, and cheaper material that strollers became widely used in the United States to transport babies. Babywearing became fashionable again when a nurse traveled to West Africa while serving in the Peace Corps and noticed people wearing babies in a soft carrier with straps. The design became commercialized in the US, and babywearing began a resurgence in this country.
  
Personally, I have always worn my babies. My babies enjoyed being close to me where they could rest their heads on my chest and hear the familiar sound of my heart beating -- the sound they had heard for months while developing in utero. I could see my baby was more peaceful too, calm and relaxed while in the carrier. I also felt less anxious. Medical studies show babies who are worn cry less and the practice may ease postpartum depression and anxiety in parents. I noticed something else. babywearing allowed my baby to communicate with me on a deeper level. I could feel my baby squirm when she needed to use the potty. That was how we began infant potty learning, eliminating the need for diapers. 

I still have a collection of slings, moby wraps, and a mei tai. My children, teenagers now, are well beyond the years of babywearing, but I still hold on to those carriers that promoted a closeness that still exists to this day.

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