Saturday, August 23, 2014 Av 27, 5774

Food, shelter, clothing, love — what more could my boys want? Everything their friends have. But giving in to them won't teach them anything about living with disappointment. 


When you find me in the bathtub in the fetal position, blathering incoherently about how slider storage bags are superior to zippered, you will know that making lunches finally broke me.


I season my parenting vocabulary with a considerable amount of Yiddish. Because my kids aren't just crazy, they are vildechayas.

Musings of a Modern Balabusta

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