When I started writing this blog – just about a year and a half ago, give or take – I was the mother of two typically developing boys in a family with no dietary restrictions whatsoever. Or so I thought.
On Friday, I shared this article on the RRG Facebook page. If you don’t have the time or the inclination to click the link and read through, it’s a NY Times piece about the things that have been found in
I’ve been thinking. Dangerous, I know. But it seems to me that in this life, in order to change, in order to grow, in order to be constantly learning and evolving…you’ve got to be able to change your mind. Oh,
You guys…I’m helping Jamie Oliver. Okay, not DIRECTLY. Jamie himself may not even know I’m alive. But I’m helping the Jamie Oliver Food Foundation, which is probably the closest brush I’ll ever have with J.O. himself. I was invited to
I’ve wanted for a long time to share a conversation that I had with my grandmother several months ago, but it never seemed to be quite the right time. Other posts overtook my good intentions; other topics became “more important.”
I have no idea how it happened that I ended up $30-$50 over budget for almost three full weeks in a row in February, but this has got to stop. Oh, sure, I made up for it, mostly; but the
There’s been a lot of chatter these past few days about France and French parenting. If we are to believe the hype of the day, the French do EVERYTHING better than we do — they’re thinner, more stylish, more cultured,
I’m not a super-techie person. (I know, I know – shocking given the pristine condition of my blog and my stunning photography. Groan.) I don’t even own a smartphone. Scratch that – I don’t even own a CAMERAPHONE. My 10-year-old
I like New Year’s. I don’t like it because of the parties — truthfully, J. and I usually do very little to celebrate, and this year we did even less than we ordinarily might. I don’t like it because of