My children have been fighting for 240 minutes. Yes, I counted. 240 or 14 thousand 400 seconds of whining and fussing about absolutely nothing. Nothing is wrong. They have food and clean clothes, a house dry from the rain and spring storms. 14 thousand 400 seconds of stressing me out. Not long ago, the sounds of distress the blister of quarrel spilled over to my feet’s edge and I would mediate over their protests a habit I had to quit in order to initiate growth

Teenage Tales of Terror! Why??? Why does my teenage daughter think she can prance in with her posse of friends at 2am and think the...

Cooking, cleaning Teenage drama, Woe’s the day for poor old mama. Bills galore no money to pay, But it’s always work… Never play....