I have vague recollections of my first foray into the world of computers. I think I was in second grade. Maybe once a week, my classmates and I would bustle into my grade school’s computer room. We’d sit down at Apple IIs with big floppy disk drives, two students to a computer, and play games or create crossword puzzles. High-tech stuff. It would be a few years before I’d see a mouse at a sixth-grade slumber party. My friend’s family had a later iteration of an Apple, perhaps an Apple IIc. The idea—and practice—of trying to move your hand across the desk to control an arrow on the screen was …

Back about, oh, aught nine, I started hanging out with a rough crowd. You wouldn’t want to meet these women in a dark alley; just when you thought you’d run into a posse of suburban moms, they’d take you down.  Boo yah! OK, they’d be too nice to take you down. But they’d have no problem kicking your butt and making you feel good about it. When we met, I was busy making excuses about exercise-induced asthma. Next thing I knew, I was training for a half marathon. Told you they were rough. Fast-forward to today, and my husband is now training for his first full marathon—it didn’t even take a mob…

My daughter, bless her, has not been herself of late. It might be that she’s growing sassier by the day, or she might simply be tired. You see, she hasn’t slept through the night since June, when the first summer storm ravaged Downers Grove. I’ll admit it provided too much excitement for all of us, but the balance of our family have somehow continued to put head to pillow.The kids’ bedtime routine is anything but efficient: they brush their teeth and change into their jammies with a maximum amount of stalling and distraction. What should be a time to unwind and settle down often becomes ripe …

Today marks the first full day of school for DG58. Much like the day after Christmas, I can hardly believe the countdown, the planning and the anticipation are over for another year—and that’s from my point of view. I dare say my son is welcoming the transition from lazy days of summer to school day routine. Granted, in our small neighborhood school, his classes aren’t too far removed from play dates, in the best possible way.I typically spent summers in the company of a friend who, in addition to being my best buddy, lived a bike ride (or slightly-ambitious walk) away. Our fellow parochial …

It's been an exciting summer in our house: both kids have reached significant milestones. Sure, my son lost a tooth and my daughter learned to "doggy paddle." But I'm talking about learning to reheat frozen pancakes (at least they're homemade) and to close the door to the minivan, respectively. It's a glimpse of self-sufficiency that makes me realize they won’t always be in the nest.At the same time, I’ve realized that some of the arbitrary milestones that boosted my independence as a kid are no longer relevant. Which is an odd feeling—aging, perhaps?Tying shoes. When I was in kindergarten, …

We’ve arrived, in a manner of speaking: my son’s friends—many of whom I’ve known since they were in preschool or smaller—are emerging as athletes. It was fascinating to watch them on the baseball field this past season and realize they’re now able to throw a ball faster and hit a ball harder than I think I could. Now, as summer begins to wane, they’re buzzing about football. At the same time, some parents among us are buzzing about brain injuries. Brain injuries. It’s difficult to say it without feeling alarmist. Think of all the kids among us who played football when we were young, and we’re…

When I was about my son’s age, my parents treated me to a birthday lunch at the top of the Prudential Building. Dining in the city among business folk—in the building where my dad worked—was no small deal, to be sure. And my parents prepped me appropriately, reminding me (and reminding me again) to mind my manners, and then reminding me more. Wouldn’t it figure that it was my dad, not me, who knocked over a water glass?This week, a restaurant near Pittsburgh is making waves after announcing it will no longer welcome children under 6, citing their incessant racket, yadda yadda. And, to be …

No thanks to a couple of snow days, District 58’s school year has finally come to an end. This morning, after my son completed the requisite 50 minutes of class, we both took part in the tradition of lining the school’s halls and entrance to clap for the sixth-graders as they leave the building. Their next stop: middle school. The “clap out” is nothing fancy, just an opportunity for our school community to recognize the efforts (of students, teachers and parents) that have brought the kids this far, and to cheer them on to the next level. As a mom, I’m tearing up already—heaven help me when …

Recess is a little like Vegas: what happens on the playground stays on the playground. I reassure myself that, at my son’s age, he’s not withholding information as much as he’s just completely oblivious of anything going on besides his latest reenactment of Star Wars: The Clone Wars.I don’t need an eyewitness report to know the type of language school-aged kids sometimes use when parents and teachers are out of earshot—I still remember learning a couple of four-letter words and a choice gesture on the school bus. It’s an opportunity for kids to test their limits and attempt to act grown-up (…

I can’t remember exactly when it happened, but at some point I crossed the line in the sand that determines how I feel about getting carded. What once was an annoyance (“Are you suggesting I’m a teenager? I’m married, for Pete’s sake!”) is now a delight (“Me? Under 21? Of course you can see my ID!”). The staff at Trader Joe’s is particularly near and dear to my heart, as it must be their policy to card anyone who looks a day under 40. The one thing they do wrong is call me “ma’am,” forcing me to age from 20 to 80 in all of three seconds.Ma’am? Really?I know the conundrum that faces parents …

My hair dryer died last week, may it rest in peace. I don’t remember how long I’d had it, but it brought to mind the old adage, “they don’t make ’em like they used to.”My son’s bedroom includes a set of twin beds, a dresser and night stand that my dad refinished when I was little, and which my dad and his twin brother—and another set of twin brothers after that—had used before me. It’s solid rock maple, and I’m convinced it will last forever. Do they even make bedroom sets like that anymore? And if they do, can any among us who don’t live in 10,000 square foot homes afford them?I look around …

It’s tough to argue with the concept of equity—we Americans are passionate about equal rights. But this past week, it was equity among District 58 schools that ignited some parents’ ire. In case you missed the brouhaha, board member Stephen Funk expressed concern about technological resources provided through PTA fundraisers (at some, but not all, Downers Grove schools) intended to bridge the gap between what District 58 can afford and what faculty request. The rub, if you will, is twofold: First, PTA gifts become property of the district, which is then required to manage and maintain those …

General wisdom states you should never fire off an angry e-mail. And that wisdom likely applies to publishing a column in an online publication. But this column was born out of mama-bear anger when a friend shared how her son has been having a difficult time at recess, being teased and chased to the point he doesn’t want to go to school. No one deserves to be disrespected. Especially not this particular smart, likeable, well-mannered kid who happens to be a recent transplant to Downers Grove. Who plays on the same playground with my son, among boys and girls, many of whom I’ve known since …

I witnessed some egregious violence as a kid. Happily, the majority was by way of Tom and Jerry and Star Wars, and the balance was on the evening news. As a teen some of my favorite music was branded “explicit,” too, and yet I like to think I turned out OK. No police record, no violent rages.As parents, my husband and I have tried our best to make our children feel safe and secure in the world, short of locking them in a tower until they’re each 30 (locking up brother and sister together might prove more dangerous, anyway). I admit I avoided toy guns until my son was 5 or 6, conceding when he…

"Education" is among a handful of words capable of conjuring both hope and fear in a parent. A little playing here, a little learning there. No big deal, just our children's entire future at stake. My husband and I attended grade school and high school in Downers Grove, and I like to think our experiences have served us well. There is neither a Pulitzer nor a Nobel Prize between us, but we can tick off a list of personal and professional accomplishments that make us pretty darned proud. And the prospect of providing our kids the opportunity to accomplish future goals of their own was among …

I spent a fair share of my childhood waiting—impatiently—to grow up. What can I say? Making the rules and driving a car have an allure all their own. Then, I grew up. While I do like making the rules, kids give childhood short shrift. And I'm not beyond reproach. Now having been a kid and, arguably, an adult, I see the error of my ways. I also see another generation in a frantic hurry to grow up, partly because life is moving faster, and partly because they get a push from all of us. Consciously or not, we continually raise expectations of how much kids learn while we downplay the importance…

We may be the only family on our street that does not own a pet. As a matter of fact, I have never owned a pet. I attribute it to brainwashing as a small child—the result of my being irresponsible and my parents being allergic. Or at least feigning allergies; I'm still not sure which one.Few of my friends had pets when I was a kid, with the exception of a guinea pig here and a rabbit there, so I don't think I fervently advocated for an animal. I learned to love clean floors and upholstery. Now I have kids (and questionably clean floors and upholstery to go along with them), so why no pets?We'…

Nov. 2 was a day off from school for Downers Grove Grade School District 58. It likely was among the last beautiful autumn days before winter weather arrives. And my son spent the majority of it inside, along with the rest of the kids in our neighborhood.It's not that our neighborhood lacks kids: we had 150 of them come to our door on Halloween. For better or worse—and I'd argue worse—they just spend most days indoors.In my day, it was a parent's duty to push kids outside. "It's a beautiful day! Go play outside! (Out! Out!)" There were days when we'd barely set foot in the house but for meals…

Somewhere, someone is tallying the difficulty of our childhoods, comparing the kids who walked to school uphill through the snow both ways to the kids whose social skills are being honed via text message.I haven't seen the scorecard, but I'm darned confident that today's students will face more pressure from global competition than I did a (generous) handful of years ago. My path was pretty straightforward: earn good grades, graduate from high school, attend a good college, earn a degree, find gainful employment. Now recent grads are having trouble recouping tuition costs in a sluggish job …

Every generation seems unable to escape a label, for better or for worse. And while I would have been slow to shrug off the title the "Greatest Generation," being lumped in with 80 million of your contemporaries must downright stink if you're part of the "Entitlement Generation."By definition, I'm too old and my kids are too young to be included among this notorious bunch. But my fellow parents and I are paying attention to criticisms of the latter generation and their upbringing so we don't make the same mistakes (and can instead be blamed for something else).Two recent tales involving local…