recent posts
- Tiny March Moment | That One Warm Day Everyone Needed
- The Month My Kids Outgrew Something…Again
- Raising Kids in the Group Chat Era
- When They Were Little and March Meant Puddles
- A Detailed Review of the Floor in Every Room My Teenagers Have Dramatically Entered
- Tiny February Moment | Late-Night Kitchen Check-Ins
- 10 Days Before Thirteen
- What My Tweens Think Love Is (Right Now)
- Teaching Love to Tweens Who Pretend They Don’t Need It
- Snow Days Then vs. Snow Days Now
Category: Love
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There are wars raging in my house every morning before school. Not the “Did you brush your teeth?” battles (though those are alive and well). Not the “Please eat something other than Takis for breakfast” skirmishes. No, the daily wars are fought over tween fashion choices—the hills my children are inexplicably prepared to die on,…
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Once upon a time, I thought the toddler years were the emotional peak of parenting. Silly me. That was just the warm-up act. Now, here I am, squarely in my mid-40s, experiencing the joys of perimenopause while parenting three tweens entering puberty. That’s right. One body. Three hormones. Five moods before breakfast. Welcome to the real Hunger Games.…
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One minute they want to snuggle, the next they’re slamming the door. There should be a warning label on parenting tweens: May cause whiplash, emotional whiplash. Side effects include crying in the pantry, involuntary eye twitching, and spontaneous laughter at completely inappropriate times. Raising tweens is a bit like being on a rollercoaster built by…
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Somewhere between piano lessons and the 4-H Fair, I lost the feeling in my left butt cheek. I’ve become one with the seat of my Jeep. My Apple algorithm thinks I’m 12, and my car is less a vehicle and more a time capsule of growing-up moments. Hi. I’m Angela, and I’m a full-time mom…
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Fry, Party of Five is back – older, moodier, and with more eye rolls than ever. But don’t worry, this isn’t a comeback tour with glittery graphics, Pinterest-perfect photo ops, or sponsored cereal reviews. Nope. This time around, it’s just me— Angela —writing straight from the trenches of tween parenting, heart first, filters off. If…
Fry, Party of Five 