Planet Mom: It’s where I live, probably eating leftovers. Visit me there at http://www.melindawentzel.com and http://www.facebook.com/NotesfromPlanetMom. Caricature by Simon Ellinas.
I have a confession to make. I stalk my children. I stalk my husband, too. I don’t know why I do it, actually. It’s a sickness, I guess — an unhealthy obsession with knowing exactly where my loved ones are at practically every moment of every day. Thanks to the fine people at Apple and
When I first became a mother, it felt as though time stood still, my days and nights never-ending, woven together into an unfamiliar tapestry that defined my upended world. I remember thinking the infant stage would endure forever and that I would surely be driven mad in the process. Sleep was a commodity I craved
I have next to no talent when it comes to public speaking — or public anything, for that matter. Even group texts stress me out to a degree. It’s just not in my DNA — dealing with a live audience, large or small. I much prefer to express myself by sitting at my laptop and
Some time ago my daughter cleaned her bedroom, and in so doing resurrected an embarrassment of items that she had ostensibly given up for dead. Things that she hadn’t seen in such a long period of time that she forgot about them almost entirely. There was a pair of iPhone earbuds that had been MIA
