“Did you make that?” he asked, pointing to my thrifted knit hat. “Yes,” I lied, for some reason convinced the handsome stranger would be impressed by my fictional knitting abilities.

The New York Times

Research shows that families who know about their history of hard times and resilience are stronger than those who don’t. Perhaps my family can attribute some of our strength to the stories we’ve learned of my mom’s childhood illness.

The Des Moines Register

When I got married over 20 years ago, I received many thoughtful gifts, but one stands out to this day: a recipe collection from my aunt. More than a cookbook, it was a treasure trove of family history, filled with stories, photographs, and cherished recipes. It was my first encounter with a legacy project, a tangible and deeply personal piece of my inheritance.

SendOff Funerals Reimagined

In my family, Christmas revolved around our fresh-cut tree, its pine scent filling the room as we opened gifts in an orderly fashion. Starting with the youngest, each person unwrapped one present at a time, allowing for collective admiration and expressed appreciation. The day unfolded with quiet rhythms — Bing Crosby on the record player, Christmas movies on TV, and plenty of time to enjoy our gifts and each other's company.

Business Insider

On a perfect 60-degree day in early April, I found myself in Washington Square Park with my teenage son. Around us New York City pulsated. Artists sold paintings at tables, skateboarders showed off new tricks, and college students lounged in the grass. The soundtrack in my mind sang, "Look around, look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now."

Business Insider

"We're clueless," I whined to my husband in between heaves as I vomited the morning I became a new mother. "We don't even speak the same language. If I feel this panicked, imagine how they feel."

Business Insider

As the youngest of a trio of siblings, I grew up feeling left out much of the time.

My brother and sister were just two years apart, and their age proximity gave them shared experiences I longingly observed from the outside. I, on the other hand, I'm seven years younger than my sister and nine years younger than my brother. I made up for my feelings of inferiority by relentlessly pestering them, using a slew of annoying tactics to gain their attention.

Business Insider

I was in middle school when I first picked up a V.C. Andrews novel. By then, I had already logged hundreds of hours watching “Days of Our Lives” and “Another World” with my mom and grandma, so the salacious, incestuous stories of the Dollanganger family weren’t that shocking to me.

Huffington Post

Growing up on a farm in Iowa, I spent hours next to my dad in the front seat of his pickup. When my legs finally grew long enough to reach the pedals, I occasionally slid behind the wheel to drive down the dusty country roads. So aside from the chore of obligatory driver’s ed, getting my driver’s license the day I turned 16 was a breeze.

Huffington Post

Growing up, I was the odd sibling out, younger by seven years. My brother and sister were two years apart, their age a gravitational pull I couldn’t control.

The Des Moines Register

On Saturday morning before the Iowa State men’s basketball team took on Washington State, I told my husband I was feeling anxious. “Why?” he asked. “You can’t control this. You aren’t playing or coaching.”

The Des Moines Register

In 2015 I was a high school English teacher in Okoboji when I wrote a Register opinion essay about having challenging conversations about race with my students. I had a supportive administrator cheering me on as I discussed systemic racism and modern-day lynchings, bridging the world from "To Kill a Mockingbird" until today.

The Des Moines Register

One fateful night turned into family folklore when I was 16 and missed my midnight curfew. I was sitting in the front seat of my 1979 Monte Carlo talking with a soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend, watching the minutes tick by until midnight and beyond.

The Des Moines Register

I crushed on my first love obsessively, thanks in part to Molly Ringwald. Growing up with older siblings, I received an early introduction to the Brat Pack, watching Pretty in Pink and Sixteen Candles more times than I should probably admit. I imagined myself as Samantha Baker, sitting on top of that magical table and getting kissed by Jake Ryan, candlelight glow illuminating his flawless complexion. I was an expert on teenage angst before I was a teen myself, and I studied the role fastidiously.

Scary Mommy

One of my fondest memories of my mom from my teenage years is the night we fought a badger.

My dad was out of town, so my mom and I were managing life on the farm with the help of our outdoor farm dog, Bob. Bob, like his namesake, was a barker, and this time his barking alerted us to a problem — he had an unknown animal cornered under our front window.

Your Teen Magazine

It’s summer road trip time. What does that mean? Time for some Forced Family Fun! If your teenagers are usually in the backseat with their noses buried in their phones, maybe you can grab their attention with some teen-friendly podcasts. Here are some suggestions that might be worth a listen.

Your Teen Magazine

I love podcasts. My teenage sons roll their eyes every time they hear me say, “I was listening to this podcast today, and I learned…” One of my favorite podcasts, “The Happiness Lab with Dr. Laurie Santos,” is devoted to helping us all learn how to be happier by using research-based strategies. Santos, a psychology professor at Yale, also offers free classes through Coursera on “The Science of Well-Being,” including one geared specifically for teens. I’ve found many of the techniques she shares about how to be happy can apply to the way we parent our teens!

Your Teen Magazine

The theme song to Phineas and Ferb claims that summer vacation has 104 days, but this year that number will be stretched to what feels like thousands. My teenage sons have been home from school since March 10 when a teacher strike led into a pandemic followed by necessary cries for racial justice in our city and around the country.

Grown and Flown

“You think you’re the only one who wants to go hang out with friends, but you’re not!” I raised my voice in frustration with my 17-year-old son. “We’re all suffering!” I added for dramatic emphasis.

And then I went upstairs to cry. Pandemic Fatigue, is that you again?

Grown and Flown

“How long have you been playing today?

Have you been outside?

Did you take a break?”

Those were the questions I would launch at my then-6th grader when he first started playing Fortnite two years ago.

Grown and Flown