Back in May 2012, Time Magazine ran a provocative cover story titled, “Are You Mom Enough?” The article featured Dr. Sears’ Attachment Parenting, or as we pointed out, parenting to extremes.  Betsy and Sal readers may recall that my sister and I got into some deep water when we penned our objections to this overbearing form of child rearing. Attachment Parenters came out in full force to let us know we must have ruined our children’s lives by allowing them to sit in strollers, sleep in their own beds and once in a while, (I can’t believe I am admitting to this…) drink formula from bottles. It…

It’s early February, and we all know what that means: it’s time to abandon our New Year’s Resolutions. For the few among us who still think that whatever promises we made to improve ourselves we still might keep, let me say this: ha ha ha. Here was mine: to pack lightly. That’s right. I decided to take a lesson from my younger daughter, who can pack for a week of skiing in a carry-on bag and offer space to anyone else in the family who is having trouble cramming a week’s worth of necessities into a bag weighing less than 50 pounds. Before I continue, let me make clear the lesson my husband …

The country is still stunned, saddened and sober, focusing on the same things: How to talk to children about fear and death. How to assure them that what happened at one school won’t happen at their school. How to explain to children the difference between the reality of gun violence in our world versus the fantasy of gun violence in so many shows and games. And we parents ask ourselves: how do we continue to wrap holiday presents for our own children while our hearts are at half-mast for the families who have most recently lost theirs? How do we let go of our children as they walk out the …

Warning: Subject in mirror may appear older than she thinks she looks. This is the label I wish my new 10X magnification mirror came with before I brought it into my home.   Who invented the magnification vanity mirror and why? This item should be sold only to your worst enemies, or used perhaps as a torture or interrogation device. Think of the international secrets we could uncover… forget the thumbscrews, waterboarding and sleep deprivation. I’ll bet if the CIA instituted a new “no-touch” psychological stress technique of torture that included the forced prolonged gaze into a 10X …

Ah the joys of Facebook, a place where we can share snapshots of our family members and ourselves in compromising positions with 657 of our closest friends from high school, college, towns we grew up in and the places we work. Included in that elite group are a few hangers on who have been absentmindedly accepted into our clubs either in moments of weakness, forgetfulness or just plain whateverness. Someone wants to friend us? But, who is this person? Who cares? We want friends. Hit “Accept!” It’s a tricky time to have friends, both in real life and online, and it gets even trickier every …

Betsy and Sal are taking this week off, which means now's a perfect opportunity to look back on some of their top columns from 2012. This year, the pair have tackled everything from entertaining a daughter's college boyfriend to handling an election yard sign vandal to the pros and cons of Words With Friends. Check out the columns below, and leave a comment if there's a topic you'd like to see them take on. How to Host the College BoyfriendAfter the two week vacation gap between the end of school and beginning of camp, one mom is ready for a break. Trail Talk: Letters from Green BayBetsy and …

There are lots of ways to host a child’s suitor. I’m trying to figure out which of them suits me. Usually, the Mason-Dixon Line serves as more than an historical marker for me. I think of it as a contemporary cultural divide: they like Sweet Tea, we like it straight; they favor rocking chairs, we sit on Adirondacks; they eat grits, we grit our teeth.  But every now and then, I recognize the Deep South gets a few things right. Take hospitality. No. Let me be more specific. Consider a gentleman caller. That’s what’s about to happen at our house. In a few days time, we’ll be playing host to our …

Dear Betsy and Sal, Nothing makes me angrier than bikers speeding by on the Green Bay Trail. Let met be clear. I don’t hate all people who ride their bicycles on the Trail, just the ones who race by at top speeds and weave through walkers as if we were orange cones on an obstacle course. You rude cyclists know who you are. You refuse to alert us walkers that you are coming up behind us, and you are unaware that as you skim by at lightning speed, we grab one another for dear life, retreat to the “shoulder” and curse your diminishing figure as you ride off into the distance. Shame on you. You …

My sister came over for a little early morning confession. “Last night,” she said, “I went around everywhere with a little piece of black bean stuck in #7. All night. No one said a thing. I needed you.” Shucks. “You know what a friend does?” she continued. “A friend tells you when there’s a little something stuck in your teeth.” I nodded. “A really good friend picks it out for you.” I wasn’t going to argue with that. “And my husband? He picks it out and feeds it to the dogs.” I draw the line there. But putting aside whatever differences we might have over how to dispose of tooth gunk, we …

Summer can be defined by parking lots. Surely you agree. Two days ago, I inhaled deeply, breathing in the aroma of the awaiting overnight camp buses as they idled on the sun-baked pavement, mixing exhaust fumes with the familiar elixir of bug repellent, sunscreen and adolescent boys. Summer camp was about to begin. In less than 30 minutes and with army-like precision, counselors and logo-clad camp directors had duffle bags loaded, campers piled onto buses, songs being sung and finally, wheels-a rolling.   To the untrained eye, a few of us looked like our eyes were pooling with tears of …

Last week we were trapped in our own driveways. It was the North Shore Half Marathon, and since the signs were only posted at every corner of every street for weeks and weeks prior to the event, and since this has been an annual event for only 33 years, naturally, it took us by surprise. Just kidding. This year, we were prepped and ready. We moved our cars at dawn so that we could actually use them and get to our own charity fun run in Elk Grove Village. Unlike the half marathon, our Foundation Fighting Blindness event covered a mere 5 kilometers. But it was enough.  ‘Tis the season for …

Gardening is for the birds. More specifically, our garden is for the birds. And, judging from the traffic I’ve witnessed in the past few weeks, it’s also for the bunnies, deer, chipmunks, squirrels, raccoons, insects, grubs, skunks and apparently, some unknown dirt biker. I can’t complain too much though. My husband David and I made a conscious choice to opt for beauty over function when it came to vegetation protection. No fence would obstruct our view of the budding plants as they emerged from the soil. What would stop the hungry predators from taking a turn at our free salad bar? The …

Have you seen the shocker on the cover of this week’s Time magazine? Our jaws dropped when we picked up the issue: it’s $4.99!  We bought it anyway, because of the provocative photo and headline:  “Are You Mom Enough?” Surely you’ve seen the picture of the chilly looking twenty-six year old mother standing erect and staring blankly at the camera as her three-year-old son, old enough to stand on a wooden chair, is suction cupped to her nipple, having a little snack.   The article details a worrisome trend in child rearing called “Attachment Parenting.” There’s a lot of posturing in the article…

The answer is: Sideboard and cardboard. The question is: How do we celebrate Mother’s Day? Let’s start with the sideboard, which is code for brunch, because be honest, have you ever in your life been invited to a Mother’s Day dinner? Neither have we. By about 4 in the afternoon, Mother’s Day is long forgotten. But brunch? That seems to be the mother of all meals. In our family, here’s how the planning proceeds: Email from Matriarch: “Your father and I would like to host a brunch for Mother’s Day. What are people eating?” On the surface, nothing could be lovelier. Not only is “Grandma” having …

Our Obama sign was stolen. Again.  It’s no secret that the Brint family supports our current president. In fact, we like the whole Obama clan. My grocery bags have a drawing of Michelle, “First Lady of Fabulous” and my car sports a bumper sticker with a picture of Bo (their Portuguese Water Dog) stating “I Bark for Barack.” An Obama sign has been proudly planted in front of our home for more than six months.  In that time, five signs have been uprooted and two of them have been physically stolen.  So I write an open letter to the culprit: Dear Vandal, You do not have to like my political …

I write this column with my tail between my legs. It shames me to admit that as much as I love my two adorable standard poodles, Bialy and Bloom, each time we visit the vet I do a mental calculation analyzing the cost-benefit analysis of keeping my pooches healthy. I’m not proud of this fact, but I do believe I am not alone. I conducted an informal survey of other members of the pet owning population, and there was a collective moan at the high cost of veterinary care and preventative medications.  My most recent trip to the vet, for 11-year old Bloom, resulted in a $1,000 bill for the …

Re-tooling fairy tales seems to be in vogue these days. Apparently the players in Hollywood believe that the world is hungry for a contemporary spin on the old standbys. After all, there’s universal appeal in stories featuring power, privilege, greed, love and a ball gown. That’s why I’m making a pitch for turning By Invitation Only: How We Built GILT and Changed the Way Millions Shop into a movie. It’s got blockbuster potential written all over. If you haven’t heard of Gilt, or visited the website, you will. After all, their target audience seems to be humans. Correction. That’s Facebook’s …

The idea for the “Ask The Sisters” advice column stems from years of daily phone calls and emergency home visits between us, sisters Betsy and Sally. Raised under the same roof and living less than a mile apart as adults, not a day goes by when one of us doesn’t voice our strong opinion on any one of a myriad of topics only to be told by the other one why we are either way off base or dead on right. For the past eight years, we had the opportunity to broadcast our thoughts on everything from politics to pot-roast on our syndicated daily radio show. But now that our show is over – it turns out…

Dear Editor, Please excuse the absence of my column this week. I swear it’s not my fault. It’s spring break, and there are like a million things going around. At my sister’s house, everyone’s got the flu. They’ve got fever and headaches and they can’t stay awake. They’re suffering and feeling miserable and dreaming only of chicken soup and Motrin. It’d be heartbreaking, if I cared. Over here at Chez Higgy, however, we’ve caught a different bug, a sort of “muttation” if you will. We’ve been staying up all night, sitting silently during the day, and barely communicating with one another beyond …

Anyone else find it unsettling that here in Chicago we have had a string of 80+ degree-days in mid March? Global warming? Maybe. But I’ve got another theory. Global flu-ing? Hear me out.  This unseasonably hot weather gives me the chills. Literally. And to go along with the chills, there’s fever, a raw and scratchy throat, a nasty (but as my doctor points out with pride, productive) cough, a heavy chest and muscle aches. Yup, I’ve been under the weather in the best March weather this state has ever seen.  Let’s talk about the flu for a second. I know, no one wants to hear the details about …