Author archive: Z. Carlson

My mother passed away two years ago, but she continues to influence my parenting style.

Parents are trying to raise responsible adults. Butting out is not an option.

I am mourning the death of proper language.

I’m in the twilight region of life; do I start all over again and get a new job?

Quit making assumptions as to where I’ll cast my vote. It’s my vote. Period.

Those years of being a room helper and P.T.A. mom are being phased out of my world. And I kind of feel lost.

Is it just me or have people started dressing down more for special engagements?

At a recent game, the perfect storm was created… And it ended with me doing something blatantly wrong.

Sure, it has its perks. But, reality is there are more challenges.

Phone calls were something monumental back in my day – not texting.

The picky inspection of a preschooler’s lunch has rattled me.

Through gritted teeth, I said: “You are at the happiest place on earth, act like it or so help me!”

I am supremely lucky to have a good marriage.

Fancy smart cars don’t impress me.

I’m following the book characters who picked a word to define their year.

I call it P.T. for “pain time.”

These words send such chills up my spine that I want to run and hide.

My mom used to be there to listen — and laugh at me.

Now that the kids are older, I find it’s easier.

Where are the Lite Brites and Snoopy Sno-Cone Makers of our youth?