Our household entered a new phase of parenting this past weekend. Sparky, our toddler, has decided he might be interested in the mysteries of potty training.

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Happy summer. Now that the steamy days of July are upon us, all the people who were complaining about how gloomy and cold this past winter was have something new to gripe about – the heat. They have yet to figure out that Mother Nature doesn’t take their opinion into account with her plans.

While most of us are exhausted by the seemingly endless rainfall for this spring, one thing is for certain. It was provided some cheap entertainment for our toddler. There is apparently nothing more alluring than a big puddle of water. Admittedly, there is something very satisfying about spl…

In Ohio, we have a spring phenomenon that takes place as soon as the orange barrels begin blooming on the roadways and kids are released from school schedules. I am, of course, referring to garage sale season. A friend transplanted from Georgia once remarked he had never seen so many people …

The light show was intense. Long slender fingers of lightening streaked across the night sky, illuminating clouds that looked like they were boiling as they churned. It was beautiful, fascinating and terrifying. Unbeknown to us, a short distance away, a tornado was destroying homes and busin…

In 2014, the Hubs and I embarked on a journey – to become parents. We decided to go through certification to become foster parents through what can be best described as an obstacle course from hell.

It’s the week leading up to the Easter celebration. For Christians everywhere, it is our largest celebration – the resurrection of God’s son. For everyone else, it is the second largest holiday for the consumption of chocolate and an excuse to stuff our faces with baked ham and deviled eggs.

Last Friday was one of our semi-annual events for the Ohio District of Kiwanis. I had the tubs of registration materials, merchandise, recognitions and workshop materials all packed up and ready to be loaded into vehicles like they were pieces of a conference style game of Jenga.

This week is a busy one in our little house. Sparky celebrated his second birthday, and a couple days later, we celebrated two years of having him in our lives. We creep forward with adoption proceedings; all things considering, life is pretty good.

I have a friend who several times a week sends me a reminder of how many days there are until Christmas. She has been doing this since December 27. She laughs when I suggest she might want to check into medication regarding that sort of obsession.

Thanksgiving. The day that diets are blown to bits and families, however they are defined, gather together for the day. A lot of things change, however, Thanksgiving is the one holiday which is more about family and traditions than any other, at least in my opinion.

I breathed a sigh of relief too soon. The morning after election day, I thought, no more robo-calls. No more emails, no more junk mail. Life can get back to what is typically peaceful if not chaotic. Except….

Sometimes, life is just not fair. Nothing drives that sentiment home harder than an email we received last week. It was a plea for assistance for a family in our community, another family who had opened their home and hearts to children “in the system”. This couple had been fostering kids fo…

I am certain, after the events of the last couple of weeks, that I am not the only person who has been saying (or thinking) “what the heck?” after hearing the evening news. It seems like the whole world has gone insane and there is so much anger and hatred everywhere we turn.

It happens to every parent. Their kid becomes obsessed with some stupid song or program and the music is replayed a billion times a day, causing a semi-permanent eye twitch to the adult who is forced to listen to whatever drivel is being repeated. Interestingly enough, the music starts out a…

Ahhhh, Pumpkin Show. The one week when our sleepy little town’s population explodes, and we are over run by all things – pumpkin. I’m not even going to bother to share my dislike of this boring vegetable at the risk of being pumpkin pie’d as I walk down Court Street this week.

One of the facts of being a foster parent is the need for continuing education classes. It doesn’t matter if the classes are not particularly helpful to you – you need to rack up 40 hours. Occasionally, you come across one that makes you really sit up and take notice. Last week, I took a cou…