My dream of it being a quiet desk job was shattered the first time I co-hosted “Toddler Time,” with 45 active toddlers mostly going in 45 different directions. The librarian and I took turns reading books, hosting a puppet show, and handing out precut crafts. Even though we wore mics, the childre...

Late one night I went to the kitchen for a glass of water and found my teen son tipping a 2-liter bottle of Coke into his mouth from six inches away, like a caffeine waterfall. At first, I didn’t understand what was happening. 

“What are you doing?” I asked as he screwed the cap back on, placing the carton back in the fridge. 

“Getting a drink,” he said. “I didn’t want to have to wash a cup.”

This was probably because six other cups were dirty in the kids’ game room upstairs, but I admir...

“We chose you,” the email subject line read, and I was elated. I’d recently joined an online group that matched pet-sitters with owners, and I’d been selected for my first overnight sit.

Ever since my youngest son had left for college, I’d found myself with a quiet home and too much time on my hands. My days up until now had revolved around school schedules, band practice, and mealtime. Being a full-time mom had been my whole identity for almost two decades. What would I do now that they were

I was 12 when I bought my first beauty book, Cheryl Tiegs’ "The Way to Natural Beauty." It was 1980 and its glossy cover photo sold me — a close-up of Cheryl with her wavy, perfectly feathered blonde hair. That’s exactly what I needed my hair to do. I was going to study this book like a bible.


My thick, wavy hair presented a daily styling challenge, and my mom was no help in this department. She kept a perfectly coiffed, immovable hairdo with weekly appointments at the beauty shop. She’d told

One December when my kids were small, I decided we would have a blow-out Christmas like you see in a Hallmark movie. I made sure each of my two sons had a dozen or more beautifully wrapped gifts under the tree.

I was sure they would be thrilled by this abundance, which had not only stretched my budget but required multiple trips to crowded stores, standing in long lines.

To my amazement, on the big day they both lost

Recently, I ran into an old girlfriend I hadn’t seen in a while at a wedding. Her youngest son had just left for college, and she tearfully told me how quiet her house was.

And all I could think was: Oh, you dear sweet flaxen-haired newb. You have no idea the glory that awaits you.

I’ll be honest. Obviously, I love my kids. But I’d been waiting for my moment of peace and quiet and rest since I realized two decades ago that I’d be responsible for three meals a day for two disinterested people f

I have a recurring fantasy that, should I find myself older and alone, possibly needing to stretch my savings, I could downsize to a small cabin filled with only the things I love: a cheerful quilt, my favorite books, stained glass in the windows, a bit of trailing ivy, and some wind chimes outside. A modern-day embellished Thoreau with scented candles.

When my youn