Last weekend I took my 11-year-old daughter clothes shopping, hoping we’d get a jump on back-to-school prep. (Back-to-school season now starts somewhere in June, if everything I see is any indication.) Our mission took us through multiple stores, like hapless Goldilockses in search of the elusive Just Right.
It was no walk in the park.
Continue reading Punky TweenerhoodIn the heart of the Muppetverse, amidst a tapestry of vibrant characters and whimsical narratives, stands a beacon of childlike wonder and boundless optimism, a giant whose iconic blue exterior conceals a tale of profound transformation and existential introspection. Few in Hollywood have the talent and range to achieve a level of stardom where one name suffices:
DeNiro.
Streep.
Pacino.
Grover.
And he’s cute, too.
Oy. The things I’m seeing about Mother’s Day.
Maybe the problem is that we’ve tried to selectively apply a version of sainthood to motherhood. Or vice versa.
Now bear with me because I don’t know a lot about sainthood, and I don’t have an exhaustive understanding of motherhood in full, but “exhaustion” and “motherhood” are two words that, if I am ever turned into a school worksheet, will be included in the word bank.
Continue reading The Scent of Mother’s Day
Jackie Pick 