Traveling with Children is Always Interesting, and Sometimes Humerous
Five minutes out of the driveway, just about the time the car started warming up and my mug of coffee started cooling off—it started. Windshield wipers swished. Rain fell. Tires splashed. Then: "How long before we get there?"
Science is Wrong: Children Aren't Blank Slates
I've historically accepted the theory that children are linguistically Tabula rasa when born. But as I grow older, I'm beginning to think there are some phrases that are hardwired into them. Phrases like, What's for dinner? and, Can I watch a movie? and, Are we there yet? Other phrases are hardwired out of children. For example, I've never heard one of them ask unprovoked, "When can I go to bed?" or "May I have some more Brussels sprouts, please?" (Brussels sprouts: what are those...(click here to read more)
When the rush of modernity drives you to the edge of insanity, a haven rests on the edge of urbanity. Just west of St. Louis proper, and tucked between the busy Manchester Road and I-64—known simply as "sixty-far, farty" by many native Missourians—lies 569 acres of hardwood, hiking trails, and most importantly, silence. This is Queeny Park.
This November, the leaves have decided to change late and in a less-than-systematic way. Some trees have shed completely their bounty and stand like a recalcitrant. But most—the more glorious specimens among them—have entered...(click here to read more).
(this post contains affliate links to Amazon.com)