It takes an uncommon amount of guts to put your dreams on the line.

Somewhere it is written that parents who are critical of other people's children and publicly admit they can do better are asking for it.

I do not participate in any sport with ambulances at the bottom of the hill.

Most mothers entering the labor market outside the home are naive. They stagger home each evening, holding mail in their teeth, the cleaning over their arm, a lamb chop defrosting under each armpit, balancing two gallons of frozen milk between their knees, and expect one of the kids to get the door.

There was a time when the respect and trust my children had for me would have made you sick to your stomach. They believed I could blow on a red traffic light and turn it green.

I have just come up with a wonderful solution to end all wars. Let me give directions on how to get there.

To my way of thinking, the American family started to decline when parents began to communicate with their children.