There's something wrong with a mother who washes out a measuring cup with soap and water after she's only measured water in it.

Before we sent kids to computer camps and told them they were having a good time, there was imagination among the human species.

It's frightening to wake up one morning and discover that while you were asleep you went out of style.

The term 'working mother' is redundant.

Friends are "annuals" that need seasonal nurturing to bear blossoms. Family is a "perennial" that comes up year after year, enduring the droughts of absence and neglect. There's a place in the garden for both of them.

Remember, you can lead a fifty-seven-year-old body to motherhood, but you can't make it stay awake.

I've decided life is too fragile to finish a book I dislike just because it cost $16.95 and everyone else loved it. Or eat a fried egg with a broken yolk (which I hate) when the dog would leap over the St. Louis Arch for it.