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Would you let your child fly unaccompanied seated next to…a man? If that sentence left you scratching your head, you're not the only one.

  • Why I Won't Be Following This Easter Egg Hunt Trend

    Photo: PinterestIt’s Easter week, which means there’s been lots of chocolate-bunny-themed posts popping up in my Facebook feed. I love hearing how friends went on Cadbury egg benders and seeing the cute Easter bonnet shots (and the hilariously creepy Easter bunny shots). But one post made me do a double take: Color-coded egg hunts. As in, each kid gets assigned a certain color egg and is only allowed to collect those pre-designated eggs. At first the OCD-er in me was drawn to the pretty picture with all the order. The buckets match the eggs! I almost hit "like" but then I realized how much I dislike the idea. The post I read touted it as a way to “keep it all fair.” For real? This is so not for me. Here’s why:

    For one, this level of organization just adds more work and feels like part of the Pinterest, whatever-you're-doing-now-is-not-good-enough campaign to stress me out. Can’t we just scatter a bunch of eggs in the backyard and let the children loose? You have to tell kids who just sat still(ish)

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  • Photo: Getty ImagesThere are a lot of things strangers say to parents that come off as judgy, meddling or just plain stupid. The worst, of course: When are you due? When you are not, in fact, due … ever. (Been there and not wanting to be there again is the number one reason I’m attempting sit-ups these days.). But another cringe-worthy question has been coming up for me a lot lately and I want to discuss. Here’s what I’m talking about:

    I was on the security line at the airport with my four-month-old baby in the Bjorn and a friendly woman started chatting us up …

    Friendly woman: “Oh, he’s so cute. Look at his eyes! What a big boy. How old is he? He’s soooo smiley. I love his boots!”

    I smiled and nodded and answered all of her questions. We kept chatting. She told me about her grandson and how he isn’t as big as my boy yet and finally, about five minutes in, it happened…

    Friendly woman: “So, what’s his name?”

    Me: “Um, well, actually…she’s a girl and her name is Molly.”

    Then this poor woman back-peddled and

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Pagination

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