Man, today* was a lot. Of money. And sensory overload. And too much time sitting in traffic. What happened: my oldest son, who’s a Benny Friedman superfan, really wanted to go to his concert. His younger brother, who wouldn’t have enjoyed a minute of it, insisted he was also old enough to attend. So now, in addition to 1) finding a nearby attraction 2) to which I could easily take three kids solo, it had to 3) be cool enough that the 5 year old wouldn’t feel like he was part of the younger...

The one response I consistently get to this letter to a mother staying home on Yom Kippur is: I cried reading it. I teared up writing it, so words that come from the heart, and all. But that's not why it makes you cry. It makes you cry because it so deeply validates your experience as a mother. Nobody tells you that after you have a baby, you're going to have an identity crisis. You wouldn't understand it even if they did. You're too busy keeping yourself and a new baby alive, trying to be an...

“Hey! I want a cupcake!” said Mr 4 (turning 5). Oh man. He was in quite a mood, and I’d finally cajoled him into sitting at the supper table. Now he saw the last banana muffin, which Mr 3.5 had just put on his plate. This could go really bad, really quickly. Lucky for me, I had a few tricks up my sleeve. (I’ll star * and explain at the end, so you can learn them too!) “Two boys and one cupcake, what should we do?” I said. * “Cupcake? I want a cupcake!” called Mr 7 from the living room. Great....