Sorry…which kid are you?

When I was growing up, my mother never had any clue what my name was. Okay, maybe ‘never’ is a bit of an exaggeration. She did manage to call me ‘Nikki’ from time to time, so let’s just say she couldn’t remember exactly what she had named me at least eighty percent of the time.…

No kissing until you’re THIRTY.

In the three school years that I’ve been attending parent-teacher conferences, the teachers have never had anything shocking to tell us. I see the boys’ teachers at their school all the time, so if there’s anything that they’re absolutely chomping at the bit to tell me, they usually pull me aside for an impromptu chit-chat. So when…