My 6-year-old tried to play chess with me at their school’s STEM night last week. I didn’t realize he knew the rules, and it turns out he doesn’t, because he produced a secret weapon: a 6-legged spider he’d made out of clay in his class earlier. “This is spider-guy,” he announced. “And he can eat … Continue reading They can keep changing the rules, but we don’t have to be obedient. (Plus 3 sneak peeks into Book 8)
In a quest for a more peaceful existence (I really wish I could live in the world of Books 5 and 6 of my series), I’ve been eliminating that which causes undue stress. No, I’m not abandoning my house or nine children, but I’ve been thinking about my dad, how he was the most calm, … Continue reading Don’t care what the world thinks: 7 steps in the pursuit of peace!
I didn’t realize until I was older that we had a weird tradition in our house. It was mandatory that when a canning jar popped, no matter what part of the house my mother was in, she’d shout, “Thank you!” If she wasn’t home, that duty fell to me, and I didn’t always want to … Continue reading Two logical reasons why I bizarrely thank canning jars . . . and everything else
I hate guns. They terrify me. They kill, indiscriminately, even in the hands of the most skilled and trained users. I hate their shape, their noise, and the smell of the cleaning agents. My neighborhood is filled with gun-lovers. Hunters, cops, concealed-weapon holders—I’m surrounded by them. I wish I knew who stored loaded handguns in … Continue reading I hate guns, but there’s something I hate even more (A pacifist’s confession)
"Why didn’t you do anything to stop him?" That’s what people frequently asked my father. He immigrated to America in the 1950s, and had a subtle yet clear German accent. “Why didn’t you stop Hitler when you noticed he was ruining everything? He completely changed Germany, and you did nothing about it!” My dad would … Continue reading Why didn’t you do anything to stop him?
“That’s right, sweety—that’s a dog. Doggies are bad. They will always bite you, even if they look nice. Keep walking . . .” That was the conversation I overheard between a mom and her three-year-old daughter yesterday. I was pushing my son in a stroller past them, and glanced over at the evil beast behind … Continue reading “She knew that in a very real way, she controlled the world. At least, she controlled the way her students would see it.”