Raising teenagers is hard. It always has been, and I’m afraid it always will be. With each generation comes its’ own set of issues. It’s crazy how far we’ve come in the last 20 years as far as technology alone is concerned. When I was in middle and high school, there were no cell phones, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc. Heck, most people didn’t even have internet in their homes until I was in college.
It’s a new day, folks. It can be scary thinking about raising preteens and teenagers in the digital age, where it seems like everyone has access to your sweet baby. Believe me, we’re totally there at the Lawrence house. The thought of people I don’t know...
This is not a post about developmental milestones and language development. That will come in due time. Don't you worry.
This is about (use your best granny voice) "Why can't kids these days have a conversation?"
Conversation and communication are becoming obsolete. It all starts around ages 10-12. There are many reasons as to why this is the case and for many years these reasons have proven true (i.e. puberty, preteen rebellion, etc), but over the last 5 years something else entirely has changed the way kids communicate.
The culprit is the PHONE.
I'm sure Alexander Graham Bell never expected the telephone, of all things, to decrease and potentially eliminate communication. Texting has taken over this world.
I love texting as much as the...
I get a stomach ache every time I see it…someone looking at their phone from behind the wheel. My mind races with questions like, “Don’t they realize how dangerous that is?”, “Don’t they care about their own safety/livelihood?”, and “Don’t they know my kids are in the car next to them?!” My unanswered questions quickly lead to frustration. To avoid having my frustration turn into anger, I try to stop and ask myself, “are you 100% focused on your driving 100% of the time?” The honest answer is no. While I may have signed the “It Can Wait”, as well as Oprah’s “No Phone Zone” pledges, committing never to text and drive, that doesn't make me immune to distractions...
A cell phone vibrating on the table is how Dr. Horenstein described the heartbeat of our unborn child. These words echoed in my soul as we drove to the Heart and Vascular Unit of Memorial Hospital. We were embarking on a journey which would surely leave a mark of grace in its midst.
My husband and I moved from Birmingham, Alabama to inner-city Houston in March of 2009, following the urgent call to be on mission for the sake of the gospel. Shortly after this decision, it was clear we should pursue starting a family. Yet, twenty-five weeks into our first pregnancy, we found ourselves sitting in room 408 of the Intensive Critical Care Unit awaiting some semblance of hope from...
One year ago, when my children were two years old and six months old, my husband and I did the unthinkable: we took our family on a vacation to Disney World. When we told people, one would have thought we were telling them that we were strapping our children on our backs and climbing Mount Everest.
"Better you than me!"
"Why would you got to Disney World now? They won't remember any of it."
"Are you crazy?"
At first, I found all of these questions to be annoying, but then I started to wonder if everyone knew something that I didn't. So, after questioning my own sanity, I set out on a quest to plan a great family vacation that we would remember...
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