I have a pet peeve. Who am I kidding? I have many of them, actually, but today I’m focusing on just the one. It pertains to my children. Here’s the scoop: I’m really fed up with people offering food to my children (pun totally intended). It happens all of the time. At church, for example. My children attend Sunday School while my husband and I are in the congregation at church. The service—and subsequently, Sunday School lessons—last an hour. One hour. The 10:30 a.m hour, at that. On any given Sunday, my family will typically enjoy a fairly hearty weekend treat of a breakfast. Waffles or pancakes or biscuits and eggs. By the time we drop the kids off in their respective Sunday School classrooms, scarcely an hour has passed since my family sat down for breakfast. Yet, when we pick them up from Sunday School, we hear reports of snacks that were given out. And I’m not talking about something healthy like a handful of grapes or a segment of orange. I’m talking about powdered donuts or cookies or packaged cereal bars—food imposters laden with sugar and preservatives.

This time of year gets to me. When the mercury climbs and the sun won’t relent, my mind goes back. It was on a midsummer day nearly four years ago that my then two-year-old son nearly drowned. I took my four children to a friend’s house to spend an afternoon cooling off in their pool. My friend and I sat in the shallow end of her pool keeping watch as our combined six children splashed and swam the day away. My two-year-old stayed at my side on the pool’s lagoon, spraying the other kids with a stream from a water gun he’d taken a liking to.

My eighteen-year-old daughter’s beloved first car broke down on the side of I-10 about a month ago. In order to buy that little green Volkswagen Beetle in the first place, she’d saved for well over a year, stashing away every penny she earned from her part-time job, as well as cash birthday and Christmas gifts. So when the temperature gauge somersaulted and grey smoke poured from the exhaust pipe that day, my daughter’s dream car quite literally went up in smoke. And, unfortunately, there were no affordable options to get it back up and running. There was a grieving process to be sure, but perhaps the heaviest burden fell on the shoulders of my husband. Used car shopping, you see, is like the kryptonite to his Superman.

When our neighbors listed their house for sale a few months ago my husband and I were admittedly a bit saddened. Not that we knew them well. We did, however, appreciate the constant presence of a Sheriff’s patrol car parked quite visibly in their driveway. I mean, in spite of the alarm company’s sign in our yard, both my husband and I feel that you never can have too much insurance. The presence (and constant threat of) law enforcement was certainly a neighborly perk.

I was sixteen when I stood at a podium before my graduating class. With a tassel dangling in my peripheral vision, I delivered a speech on dreams and the audacity to pursue them. Audacious because beneath my graduation gown was a belly bulging, ripe with a life on the verge of beginning. Ironic because some might say that by choosing to grow that life when I was but a baby myself, I was bringing my own life to a screeching halt. I suppose that I was, in some ways. But mostly, I was beginning a whole new chapter.

In honor of Mother’s Day, I’m sharing a rather humorous conversation that I recently had with a long-distance friend via text (with her permission). I hope you find it as entertaining as I do. While the names have been changed to protect anonymity, the story is completely true.

We have been enjoying some gorgeous weather here in Southern Arizona as of late, wouldn’t you agree? We all know, though, that these mild temperatures are fleeting so we best enjoy them while we can. With that in mind, here are five things you can (and should!) get outdoors and do before the mercury creeps up.

My thirteen-year-old daughter is playing baseball on an organized, uniforms-make-it-official, team this year. It’s a first for her. She’s taking part in Challenger Baseball, a local league for children and young adults with physical and/or mental challenges. She knows the schedule by heart and—on game days—starts itching to get suited up right after breakfast. That in spite of the fact that her games don’t typically begin until 7:30 pm. Saying she enjoys playing is a bit of an understatement.

I remember that when my kids were very young, refereeing arguments between them accounted for a decent chunk of my time. Now that they’re maturing, I typically step back and let the minor disputes between them run course until they fizzle and fade quietly away. Most often that sounds a lot like two bedroom doors being abruptly shut as they go their separate ways. Sometimes it’s even more visual. When my six-year-old son has a disagreement with one of his sisters, his aggression is typically played out in post-it notes. He pencils stick-figure drawings of the perceived offense, along with the command to: Stop being mean! Depending upon the severity of the situation, the offender might come to find ten or more post-it notes stuck to her bedroom door.

My six-year-old son just had his first t-ball game of the season. It’s his second year playing and already we’ve seen huge improvements in his coordination skills and understanding of the game. Whereas last year he paid closer attention to the dirt of the infield than the ball, this year he clamors for it and knows to make the throw to first base. And speaking of first base, I can also proudly report that his navigational skills can now get him to first after he’s hit the ball. He’s not the only one, though, who learned a thing or two last year. In this, my second year as team mom, I’m more confident in and commanding of the role.

If you spend any time on Facebook or Pinterest you’ve likely seen a number of those clever cartoons—the ones that depict old-timey characters beside a mostly tongue-in-cheek phrase meant to elicit laughs and, of course, little thumb-up likes. Lately, I’ve noticed a relatively new addition to the virtual pictograms making the social media rounds. These are less tongue-in-cheek, more “inspirational”, and are quickly gaining momentum. The version I’m referring to typically feature a background image—a beach or the sun shining through an evergreen forest, for example—offset by a short sentiment that offers dime-store advice on how to live: Always smile back at little children. To ignore them is to destroy their belief that the world is good. There are variations, of course. Come to think of it, I seem to have an inordinate number of Facebook friends who post not-so-discreet comebacks seemingly aimed at the opposite end of a failed relationship: You had me at hello, lost me at goodbye, and everything in between was nothing, but a lie. So, too, are there the Stuart Smalley variety of motivational quotes: Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about learning to dance in the rain.

There were a few things we did well at the small-town central California high school I attended. For starters, we routinely whooped the pants off of the rival football team from the next town over. Our cross-country team always did well in meets. Even our band was regularly invited to march in big name parades all over the state. And while there were a number of areas in which we excelled, I’d be remiss not to point out a weakness: our district so miserably failed in meeting the needs of kids with intellectual disabilities, and in doing so, I think they failed the rest of us, too.

Until about a month ago, my eighteen-year-old daughter had her college plans set: she was to attend the local community college for two years before transferring to a University in pursuit of a degree in marketing. This was a plan I could support, not only because it kept thousands of dollars tucked away in her 529 plan, but also because it meant she would remain at home, doing her coming and going right beneath the safety of my watchful eyes. All was well with the both of us.

Having grown up in California, I went to Disneyland countless times as a child. I remember fondly trudging out of the park after a long, exciting day—my Mickey-shaped balloon bobbing along as we went. That was back when you could drive right up the front gate and walk right back to your car when the fun had all been had. Long before the days of parking trams and security checkpoints to get into the Happiest Place on Earth. I spent so much time at Disneyland and made so many memories that not all of them are good ones.

When I was younger, my mom’s potato salad was among my favorite of her dishes. Striking just the right balance between tangy and creamy, her potato salad was the star of our backyard barbecues. Because she knew how much I loved it, she indulged me by making two separate versions: one with raw red onion and one without.

I have a pet peeve. I suppose it would be more accurate to admit to having a slew of pet peeves, but today I’m focusing on just the one. That is, the policy so many physicians have adopted that—with some variation—states that patients who are late for the appointment will be charged a missed or late appointment fee. The policy itself seems reasonable enough; it’s the hypocrisy of it that gets under my skin.

Last Friday night my husband took me on a date night to see Kris Allen, who was in town for a single show downtown. Because I was over the moon with excitement (and maybe also because I finally had something other than boring household chores to post about) I penned a pithy Facebook post to brag to all my friends about my plans for the night. Having developed the smidge of a celebrity crush on Kris Allen, it didn’t occur to me that someone might not know who he was. You can imagine my surprise, then, when one of my Facebook friends commented, “Who is Kris Allen?”

My kids are deprived. Or so they would have you think. My oldest daughter, Torri (18), came home the other day with a story about how the morning after spending the night with a friend, the friend apologized profusely that all they had in the cupboards for breakfast was cold cereal. To hear Torri tell it, her reaction was nothing short of crazed. She loves cereal, you see. Loves it with a vengeance even. And ever since we started making our own granola and stopped buying the sugary store versions a little over three years ago, cold breakfast cereals are something we resign ourselves to only when we’re staying in a hotel and a quick and convenient breakfast is key.

I am the mother of four children: three girls and then a boy. In the early years of this motherhood I was overwhelmed with pink. Pink gowns and pink teddy bears and pink headbands with tiny pink rosettes. And since baby after baby of the female persuasion came along those same pink gowns and teddies and headbands stuck around the house as hand-me-downs for many, many years. When finally a little one with boy parts made his way into our lives I didn’t know what to do with myself. Him being the final piece of our family, I gave away all things pink and tiny. In their places, little denim overalls and blue fuzzy sleepers and itty bitty socks with masculine creatures like dinosaurs printed on them started cycling through the laundry. As the new mother of a son, the novelty of blue was welcome in our previously pink house. What I failed to realize back then was that with the blue came a whole new world of parenting.

This time of year there is a lot of talk about change. People resolve to change their bodies, change their habits and change their lives. It’s true. You can simply skim through the Target sale ad for proof. What’s on sale? Exercise equipment for those wanting to change their bodies. Monthly planners for those wanting to change their hectic schedules. And storage boxes, bins, and baskets for those wanting to change their closets. This time of year, it’s all about change.

When I think of New Year’s Eve, images of sparkly outfits, bubbly cocktails and midnight kisses are among those that come to mind. For families, though, there is a whole different side to the occasion—one that can be every bit as fun and festive as the more adult-centered parties and events. Below are five family-friendly ideas for ringing in the New Year. Hopefully one of these will be just the right way to celebrate with your littlest loved ones.

If your gift list is anything like mine, some of the most difficult recipients to shop for are the kids’ teachers. They’re difficult for me because I don’t know any of my kids’ teachers personally, so I can’t exactly choose a gift tailored to the individual. On the other hand, I know with certainty that I don’t want to resort to a trite “Best Teacher” coffee mug or a dime-a-dozen “A+ Teacher” Christmas tree ornament. Also, while I want the gift to be memorable, I don’t want it to break the bank. With those guidelines I mind, I brainstormed five gift ideas that most any teacher would appreciate. Here they are:

Looking for something fun and festive to do with your family in the weeks leading up to Christmas? We’re lucky to live in a place where the climate allows us to comfortably enjoy outdoor activities during the holiday season. And speaking of outdoor activities, there are plenty to be found. I’ve compiled a list with details on some of the most merry holiday haps around town. Hopefully one or two of these events will be just the thing to kick start your jolly this Christmas.

When my oldest daughter—now eighteen—was a wee little thing I went to great lengths to bring life to the magic of Santa. Just before bedtime on Christmas Eve we’d stand out on the lawn and scatter “reindeer food” so that Rudolph and his buddies would be inclined to stay and graze while the big guy scurried down the chimney. And then after my daughter was tucked snug in her bed my husband and I would go about the business of proving that Santa had indeed visited during the night. We went beyond building a toy wonderland beneath the boughs of the tree; our goal was to leave no doubt that Santa was real. To that end, we’d nibble on the cookies she left for him, being sure to leave a few crumbs behind. As if that wasn’t enough, we’d even sprinkle ashes into boot print stencils on the fireplace hearth, only to feign annoyance over Santa’s mess in the morning.

Let’s face it: between seasonal greeting cards, gifts, and sparkly clothes for festive parties, the holidays can be an expensive time of year for everyone.  That is especially true for large families.  I should know; I have one.  With four children ranging in age from six to eighteen, I’ve had a few years to practice budgeting for the seasonal expenditures that come with the holidays.  I thought I’d pass along a few of my tried and true tips.

Now that we’ve officially entered the holiday season, there are sure to be countless invitations to holiday gatherings piling up in your mailbox (or email inbox, perhaps). Maybe you’re even throwing a get-together of your own. If so, you’ll want to continue reading. Today, I’m offering five suggestions for gatherings that go beyond the average, ordinary dinner party and take it up a notch, to bring friends and loved ones together in a fun and unique way.

Of all the seasons, fall is my absolute favorite. Not only does it usher in fresh, crisp air and football (Go Cardinals!) but so, too, does it offer the opportunity to try flavorful pumpkin recipes and cozy casseroles. Those things alone set the season apart, but I like to take it a step further. A couple of years ago I scoured the craft stores in late September. I was on a mission to add a touch of fall décor to my home and I was prepared to consider my shopping splurge an investment. To my surprise and delight, though, I found that many retailers were clearing out their harvest decorations to make way for aisle after aisle of Christmas goodies. I was able to pick up quite a haul at a fraction of the retail price. And then, to fill in the gaps, I searched my own home and neighborhood for items to finish the look. Today, I’m sharing some ideas for inexpensive and festive fall décor with you.

My husband and I are very much one of those “opposites attract” kind of couples. It’s apparent in many ways, but none more so than our opinions of air travel. Whereas he appreciates the hands-off approach to letting someone else do the navigating, I’d much rather go by car and retain the ability to stop when and where I want to.

With the weather hinting at cooler temperatures on the horizon, this mom’s focus turns to fall foods. As someone who cooks with the seasons, I look forward to the time of year when pumpkin and warm spices like nutmeg and cloves begin appearing in my recipes. I have a whole Pinterest board (find me at pinterest.com/suchdarcie/) devoted to cozy fall dinners and another that features apple desserts. But one meal that often gets overlooked in seasonal cooking is breakfast. Those of us with school-age children in the house tend to be in such a morning rush that we can consider ourselves lucky to get even a bowl of cereal on the table. Believe it or not, though, there are plenty of recipes out there for moms like us who want to serve a hearty and wholesome hot breakfast in a hurry. I thought I’d share two of my favorites today.

We’re closing in on election season. With this being a presidential election year you can bet that there will be plenty of scrambling by both candidates as November 6th draws nearer. Political party affiliations aside, there is one thing I think we might all agree on: that those with intrusive campaign habits aren’t winning any voters.

My oldest daughter turned eighteen yesterday. To celebrate (or assert her adulthood, I can’t be sure which) she went out and got a body piercing immediately upon leaving school. When she came home and showed off her new navel ring I oohed and ahhed appropriately before eyeing the redness and asking whether it hurt. She confirmed that it did, but she said it was worth it. And then I asked if it was everything she had hoped for. A sly smile crept across her lips and she reported that the best part of the experience was when the technician verified the birthdate on her driver’s license and then took a bold black Sharpie to the parent/guardian signature line on the release form.

Growing up, there were some things my mom was not good at. To her, anything that came from a box and had to be mixed at home qualified as “from scratch” cooking or baking. My brothers and I grew up thinking it was perfectly normal to eat cold cereal for dinner. What? Is it not?

I was going through my iPhone this week, trying to clean up my photo album. There were hundreds of shots overdue for deletion; my teenagers have a bad habit of snapping tons of silly photos for me to find later. Once I sifted through all of those, though, I narrowed my stream down to frame-worthy shots of my kids and a select few photos that come in super handy when I’m out and about. I’m using those photos as inspiration today, to share ten photos that every mom should keep on her cell phone for quick reference.