It’s a Friday night on campus, and three 11-year-olds are deep in thought over their new board game. That they made themselves.
Lilian Katz is known the world over for teaching parents and teachers about the minds of young children.
We asked some Facebook friends to share their best (worst?) road-trip horror stories. Read on if you dare. And add your own to the list with a comment below, or email email@example.com and we'll post it for you:
From Judy Argentieri, Champaign:
We just completed an epic road trip.
The Prairie Fields sandlot boys are on the move.
The bats are swinging again on their homemade baseball field in Savoy, but in a new spot.
It’s one of those “making lemonade out of lemons” stories.
(Note: This column ran in the June 10, 2014 edition of The News-Gazette.)
Every wedding has those unforgettable moments — the walk down the aisle, the first dance, the low-speed car chase.
Twenty years ago this month, as my husband and I prepared to pledge our lifetime vows, our wedding party was riveted by a fugitive in a white Bronco.
It’s Tuesday, so this must be field-trip day.
Or maybe the eighth-grade promotion ceremony? Band Awards night? Fifth-grade bonfire?
For the most part, I am the handyperson in our family, but tools are not always my friend.
I like home projects. I have even completed some, with help from family and friends.
Others, not so much. Take the recent toilet-seat conundrum.
My mom recently went through a major life transition, and it’s sparked lots of memories and reflection. Mostly about time passing and all the chances I missed to tell her what she means to me.
She’s definitely not the type to seek the spotlight, and she’d probably try to stop me from writing this if she had the chance.
I learned a new phrase recently: lawn-mower mom.
Apparently it’s been around for awhile, along with its predecessors, the helicopter mom and the Tiger Mom.