dirt don't hurt

By Karrie McAllister I realize it’s generally frowned upon to drag children through airports while mumbling profanities at your husband. But keep in mind that he is walking happily ahead of you, carrying only a backpack and you are weighed down with 2 carry-ons, a doll, and a kid on each hand. Plus I’m pretty sure I was holding a coloring book in my mouth. The reason for the hurriedness is that we weren’t comfortably early for the flight. But not late, either, mind you. So after leaving the ticket counter, the race began. My husband walked like a normal person. We barely slid along like a three-headed bag lady. And after a few “hurry ups!” my calmness had gotten the best of me, and right there in the airport the gates of motherhood opened. “Don’t tell us to hurry up. We’re SLOW. We’ve got junk galore to carry and they’ve got little legs and if we don’t get everything packed so they’ll be happy then I guarantee your trip will be even worse than this lecture in the middle of the sec

By Karrie McAllister Nietzsche stated, “That which does not kill us makes us stronger.” And looking back at our last few weeks, I can only pray that this applies to my children. Recently I made a very poor parenting decision, one which resulted in hysterical children and a spontaneous trip the store. So I have to ask myself, are my parental blunders strengthening my children’s character, or am I just scarring them for life? Let us examine the occasion that brought about tears and unbelievable guilt: Art class gone very, very bad. I am a firm believer in the arts, and when the chance came for my kids to take local classes in creativity, I practically glue-sticked the paint brushes in their little hands. Week after week, I talked it up, praising their work like any good mother should. Sure they had simply spent an hour smearing paint around, but they were so proud of what they made. And so was I. When “clay week” rolled around, they worked especially hard. Of course my daughter churn

By Karrie McAllister It seems like only yesterday I was writing about avoiding germs... But today, let me provide you with a dazzling visual: I have not put on makeup in two days. My eyelids are barely supported by the new set of purplish luggage that now rests beneath them. I have also been wearing the same sweater for the last few days, only because it’s warm…and it has pockets. Two of them—one for clean tissues, and one for not-so-clean tissues. I have wiped more noses than I can count. And despite the fact that I took a few semesters of science in college, I have given enough doses of cough syrup to have finally mastered English to Metric conversions -- so long as it’s only ½ or 1 teaspoon. (FYI: 2.5 and 5 ml, respectively.) As you may have guessed, the cold and flu season has finally reared its ugly, coughing head in our home. And while I personally haven’t been hit yet, I’d be fibbing if I didn’t wish I could take some nighttime medicine so maybe, just maybe, I could get a