As last year's holiday season sputtered out and the relatives left our house, I exhaled, then smiled. I'd really enjoyed all the feasting and fun, from the morning moment the kids' cousins started frolicking underfoot, until the last precious late-night conversation wound down. But there is no way in hell we can manage another holiday season like that one, because floundering in all the happy happy joy joy was one miserable, disoriented, sleep-disturbed little boy with autism and his equally disoriented parents.

What if a white male single dad had a 10 month-old, adorable baby boy. Say his wife had died tragically and he had no extended family….The dad was in the army, and he was deployed to Afghanistan. The dad had nowhere for his baby to go while he was deployed… what would happen? I bet that baby would not go to foster care.

Not long after I graduated from college, I worked at a government agency. One of my co-workers was in the middle of a bitter divorce. Prior to the divorce, he stayed home caring for his two young sons. Once his wife left him, however, she filed for custody of the children. At the time, he did not contest the filing, as he did not want to upset his kids any more than they already were. However, he was clearly heartbroken and missed nurturing his children.

Late this summer, my father died. I'm still grieving the loss. I will be grieving the loss for the rest of my life. But the rest of life is a very long time, and there are many days to get through, and so I work very hard on coping and I think that I'm doing pretty well. But some days are harder than others. Some days are much harder than others. Holidays are the hardest.

Harry & Sally. Rhett & Scarlett. Lancelot & Guinevere. Lucy & Ricky. Johnny & Baby. Name famous romantic couples and since 2007, Marlboro Man and The Pioneer Woman deserve a spot in the Top Ten.

I have new faith in pop culture as a vector of enlightenment now that the TV show Glee has given us Wheels, a thoroughly contemporary After School Special about people with disabilities.

CNN and bloggers report that the body of 5-year-old Shaniya Davis of Fayetteville, NC, has been found. Earlier today 200 people searched for the child's body after police received a tip that she was dead, say news sources.

For years, academics, educators and all manner of pontificating pundits have been bemoaning the downfall of intelligence at the hands of technology. The use and over-use of television created, to hear them tell it, passive, stupid children, and thus the name “boob tube”. Video games are blamed for producing violent, fat, under-achieving students.

We've seen the harried mother in Wal-Mart, shrieking at her wayward toddler as she streaks through the aisles clutching candy. You've probably also been the exhausted mommy who, at the end of a long day, MUST YELL TO GET THE SELECTIVELY HEARING-IMPAIRED CHILD TO TAKE A BATH.I myself went along a parenting trajectory. It went like this:New mommy: Cooing and singing, even when my daughter popped me in the nose accidentally while reaching for a toy, hurting me so bad my eyes watered Toddler mommy: Redirection! These tantrums are developmentally appropriate! Ha!Preschooler mommy: I don't understand you when you use that whining voice.Kindergartner mommy: Yell 

What do you do when one spouse wants another child and the other does not? Add advanced maternal age and one fallopian tube to the equation and you have a recipe for disaster. I am an only child and in my ideal world would be the mother of two children. However, my desire may not be fulfilled. My husband is not too keen about having another child, I've heard every excuse from the economy to sleep deprivation and am honestly at my wits end.

I was standing in my parents' kitchen eating cereal and staring into space, as I do, when my eyes landed on the refrigerator - and more specifically, the pictures on it.And the magnets, and the invitations, and the um, business card for a particular blog that no one reads because I think they still think there's a secret password to get in and hey, who am I to correct that notion? But mostly it's the photos.

The often-dreaded moment arrives. It is Thanksgiving and the family has assembled. Just before the eating begins there is a silence. Grace. Do you say it? Do you not say it? It is Thanksgiving after all, time to give thanks. But who says it, and what do they say? Oh, and whom do they thank? First, if you are a believer, obviously your grace will most likely be said to God. But there may also be others to thank. If you are not a deist, there is still room for gratitude and taking time to say it out loud. It is a soulful gesture, regardless of ones tradition. And it feels good.