Our 2-year-old has decided she is ready to potty train. Combined with the fact that it is 25 degrees outside, our dog keeps peeing on our snowmen, our twins have been out of school for over a week, my wallet was stolen on Christmas Eve, andmy husband’s basketball team lost by 40 points the other night—our…

My hands are cold this time of year. The days are dark and short but feel long—cooped up with three restless children. The wind howls.

And I become a basketball widow.

My husband’s schedule as an independent school athletic director keeps him busy enough, even when he’s not coaching. But when his girls’ varsity basketball season begins in November, Jeff is hardly ever around. Over the past few weekends, I had to text him updates about our sick children while…

Everything feels off-kilter since I started reading and hearing about the elementary school massacre in Connecticut on Friday. Even the Christmas tree we picked out yesterday morning is listing—as if unable to right itself under the weight of the carnage.

Shaken by Friday’s atrocities, I awoke Saturday morning and felt the need to do something together as a family. We decided to go buy our tree. But the first place we visited wanted $40 for the small evergreen we were eyeing.…

When Usher’s “Yeah!” came piping through my earbuds the other day as I struggled up Righters Mill Road, I’ll admit that the thumping rhythm lent a spring to my step and that I clicked up the volume as I pumped my legs. But I also found myself slightly repulsed as I listened closely, for perhaps the first time, to Ludacris rapping about “these women all on the prowl/If you hold the head steady I’m a milk the cow.”

Usually, I’m in favor of a little smut. I often find that a…

Fortunately, my nearly 6-year-old twins’ birthday party had concluded by the time my son started vomiting. And luckily, when Griffin began spewing up a crimson tide, I recalled a relevant anecdote from my older sister’s past—the time one of her college roommates was retching what they thought was blood, unaware that the girl had spent the better part of her evening imbibing laced, red punch. Even if operating under a grave misapprehension, they were probably still wise to rush her to the…

Starting at about 3 o’clock the other morning, our 2-year-old banged into our room several times, plunking books on the hardwood floor and knocking her doll’s plastic head against the door. My husband and I took turns walking her back to her own bed and exhorting her to stay there, over her loud protests. In these wee hours, I just wanted Jane to go back to sleep. I was too tired to exhume the contents of her particular disturbance. But later that morning, she told me what had been troubling…

Hearing that Nov. 30 was the 30th anniversary of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” made me feel ancient – and recalled some images from my past that I’d clearly repressed. Hardly unique in my 11th year, I was a huge Michael Jackson fan. This phase followed my Barry Manilow/Billy Joelobsession and predated my Madonna mania. Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” album was seminal for me, not just because the music…

A few nights ago before I fell asleep, I read the following passage from Mikhail Sholokhov’s “And Quiet Flows the Don”:

“Gurgling something into his beard, Pantaleimon limped off to his hut. He found Gregor in the kitchen. Without saying a word, he brought his stick down over his son’s back. Doubling up, Gregor hung on his father’s arm.

‘What’s that for, Father?’ he demanded.

‘For your goings-on, you son of a bitch!’

‘What goings-on?’

‘Don’t soil…

My son spat in the house yesterday. Maybe I shouldn’t have shared that, but I know that my son’s behavior, though wholly unacceptable, still falls within the realm of what is normal for a kindergartner testing the boundaries. I know he is truly a gentle soul. But when the saliva hit the floor of our family room, I hit the roof – and nearly smacked my kid.

“Did you just spit?” I cried. “To your room! No treats for a week!”

As Griffin ran upstairs sobbing, I…

The other day our 2-year-old barged into our bedroom with two “Little Bear” books, her favorite doll, “Some-Dee,” and her purse replete with a toy phone and bell. “Hi, mommy!” Jane sang out.

It was 2:19 a.m.

With our nearly 6-year-old twins, I already knew I was dealing with a pair of clowns. But it looks like our 2-year-old is going to be the biggest joker of them all. And while I realize that, to outsiders, Jane is no more clever or charming than anyone…

As we were ushering our children and their grandparents into cars to go to the 39th Annual Turkey Bowl – a tradition my husband has been a part of since the early 1990s – Jeff spied me slipping a notebook into my parka. “Oooohhhh!” he exclaimed, shaking his head. “I thought your zeal for my participation was somewhat atypical.”

When we first dated, I encouraged my husband to play in this Thanksgiving Day touch football game with a group of fellows he once lived with in…

With Thanksgiving Day just around the corner and both sets of grandparents coming into town, I feel the need to do some yoga breathing and compose a list of things I’m thankful for:

I’M THANKFUL…

1. For my kind and generous husband
2. That my kind and generous husband does all of our laundry
3. For our healthy, thriving children
4. For our neighborhood public school and its industrious teachers
5. For the hours when that school is in session…

Before Halloween was over and Thanksgiving was even here, stores like Target were already adorning themselves in holiday products, which frankly really irritates me. To be candid, I kind of hate Christmas. My husband and I are devout atheists, and despite our efforts to persuade our kids that Christmas is about being with family, our nearly 6-year-old twins have figured out that it’s really all about the presents. Furthermore, their birthday is Dec. 20, five days before Santa is supposed to…

I’m so jealous of my husband. He just walked in at 7:19 p.m. after a long day of jury duty.

What I wouldn’t give for a long day of jury duty. To me, it sounds like a slice of heaven – or in the very least, a vacation.

If I had to report to the Montgomery County Courthouse in Norristown each morning, someone else would have to take care of my kids for eight to 10 hours while I executed my civic duty. The feeding, dressing, entertaining, transporting and…

When a friend invited us to her husband’s 45th roller derby birthday party, of course I immediately accepted. I kept picturing Juliette Lewis in “Whip It” and scanned my closet for a mini-quilt and spandex. But then I got the jitters. Would we need not only a sitter but also mouth guards and helmets?

By the time we arrived at Temple’s Liacouras Center Saturday night, however, we’d realized our only exertion would be to swill beers and decide whether to cheer on the Broad…

Writing “My Love Affair” and “Why Billy Joel Rocks” – pieces in which I extol the virtues of some of my favorite cultural phenomena – reminded me that it'd been a while since I posted a “Thin Line” list, a compilation of my pet peeves and secret pleasures. So I’ve decided to get down to brass tacks and have another go. For…

I had to laugh that while Bruce Springsteen hitched a ride on Air Force One to rally crowds for the president in Wisconsin, Ohio and Iowa yesterday, Kid Rock played to Romney crowds in New Hampshire. Close readers of this blog will know that I’m actually a big Kid Rock fan. But let’s face it. He’s not “The Boss.”

And to really “Kid Rock the Vote” in the future, I’d suggest that whoever wins – and may it be the best man – makes sure that school is in session on the next Election…

Saturday night, my husband and I wound up in prison, or rather the penitentiary – Eastern State, to be exact.

We didn’t set out to land behind bars, but on our way to one of our favorite pubs in the Fairmount section of Philadelphia, we saw lines snaking around this neighborhood’s historic penitentiary for the annual Terror Behind the Walls. “Ooooh! Let’s go,” I said, clapping my hands. I didn’t really want to enter, but I was willing to partake for the sake of my blog.

My…

A call from the superintendent’s office woke me at 5 a.m. today to say that our school district was closed again due to downed trees and wires. At 6 p.m., I read an email reporting that Cynwyd Elementary would also be shuttered tomorrow.

I’m grateful that a weeklong academic hiatus is all we’re suffering post superstorm Sandy, when so many other communities have been decimated. But I must confess that we’ve been feeling a touch of cabin fever.

Thank heavens…

“What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen in your life?” my 5-year-old son asked me tonight, as I was trying to put away laundry and coax him and his siblings to brush their teeth. His twin sister composed her Christmas list at her desk, updating me with each added item, despite the fact that we haven’t yet made it through Halloween. Then she screeched at her 2-year-old sister who’d stolen a stray birthday party hat. During the commotion, both my landline and mobile phone rang to inform…