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According to the New York Times, the number of kids aged six to eleven who have a cell phone has doubled since 2005. And, a study by Retrevo reports that 43% of parents with kids aged 9-12 think that's a good age for a child to get her first cell phone. When I read those articles I started thinking. Not about whether my children (ages 9 and 12) are ready for cell phones, but whether I'm ready for them to have cell phones.

There used to be four of us. Birthdays, vacations, anniversaries –- two parents, two children. Now it’s different. Four has become seven. Two sons, two parents, one wife, one girlfriend and one mother-in-law. When your kids find worthy life companions, you don’t argue or complain about the normal being other than the old configuration, almost never hanging out – just the four of you.

Who Needs Toys?

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The most enlightening advice I've received as a parent has been about toys. When celebrating our first Christmas my aunt warned me not to buy my son too many gifts because he'd be more entertained by the wrapping and boxes. She was totally right. And as my son quickly approaches his third birthday, he is still intrigued by the most unusual things. Like a kitten, he will play with a bit of string or a piece of ribbon for hours on end.

Let's do a little test. I'm going to write a word and you're going to tell me your immediate gut reaction in the comment box of this post BEFORE you read the rest of the post. Write down whatever memories, feelings, or ideas the word evokes. Don't peek at the rest of the post until you've done this exercise. Got that? Here's the word:

Back in the mythic 50s and 60s, housewives like Betty Friedan and Betty Draper were very bored. The Feminine Mystique opens with this description of an average housewife’s day: “Many women no longer left their homes, except to shop, chauffeur their children or attend a social engagement with their husbands.”

Jake Tapper is the Senior White House Correspondent for ABC News.  He’s a pretty big deal. I follow him on Twitter, as do 39,559 other people. Although his Twitter page has a strapping picture of the reporter on duty in front of the White House, Tapper’s Twitter badge, his personal stamp, is a photo of him cradling his two little kids: a toddler and a newborn. It is such a tender photo, and you could never imagine Walter Cronkite (if he had a Twitter page) using such an image as his calling card.

Eleven years ago, I didn’t have a care in the world. I was a recent college graduate living on my own outside of NYC, and my only responsibilities included bills and work. Any night of the week you could catch me at a bar or lounge in the city, sometimes until three or four a.m., and then waking up the following morning at seven to prepare for work. My social life was in full swing.  It came to an end when I found out I was pregnant with my son in 1999. “Partying like it was 1999" turned into planning for my son’s future.

There are a few ground rules that I follow when it comes to dating and being a single parent.

I’ve read a flurry of articles in the past week to accompany data that show changing gender roles in earning power and marriage.  Many of these articles accompany flip headlines and amusing photos—images of the 1980’s comedy “Mr. Mom,” or tales of high-earning career women marrying men far less high-powered, simply because, apparently, women now can. This is typical media hype: the truth is, in most two-parent families both partners have to work, the burden is more or less shared, and it’s tough.

  A few months ago, my 10 1/2 year old son, ran into my bedroom to make an announcement. “Mommy, some creamy stuff came out of my penis! I’m a man now!” I choked on my water, literally.

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