Kimberly Witt

When I was a child, Mother’s Day meant Mom wore a corsage to church, and later we gathered for a special lunch with both of my grandmas and great-aunts who lived in our same small town. Around our oak farm table, we’d share a meal with constant conversation followed by plenty of dessert and coffee. These women taught me to bake and crochet, wiped my tears, and listened knowingly to my complaints about boys. Whether it was a safe place to land at the end of a school day with the promise of my favorite sugar cookies or a warm cup of tea at the kitchen table, the women in our family made sure I knew I was loved, and I was lucky to have them around me.

When I was little, a teacher gave me cookies, and that simple act of kindness turned my day around. I first learned about kindness by seeing it in action while I was in elementary school. The experience taught me that sometimes the biggest acts of kindness are stuffed into the tiniest of packages, made even better when that tiny package is stuffed with cream filling.

Dressed in a sea of pink taffeta, softly lit by the dimmed overhead lights of our high school gym, I swayed to the beat of a popular ballad with my date’s strong hands expertly placed upon my slender hips. From the cloud of hairspray on my French twist updo to his soft lips on mine as we said goodbye, I remember my prom night as perfect, start to finish.

April is a month of many significant religious holidays. It’s also time for some purely fun, unique and quirky secular holidays. Here are some things to celebrate in April with your teens.

After news broke of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, my 17-year-old son texted our family chat with a three-word question: World War 3? My husband and I quickly responded with texted reassurances, and we’ve had several follow-up conversations with both of our sons. Because of smartphones and social media, our teens often know breaking news before we do, which led me to wonder how my wise mom friends were handling these tough conversations with their teens.

While our family media consumption also includes movies and dramatic TV shows, the fraught early days of COVID necessitated comedy, inspiring us to watch our way through several classic sitcoms. Now, thankfully, life feels a bit more normal. Still, on nights when we’re all home together, we watch an episode of mindless TV for belly laughs and harmless escapism.

My husband and I were fans of animated movies long before we were parents. He still laughs until he cries during the final fight scene of Kung Fu Panda. I know every word to every song from every Disney movie of the late 80s and early 90s. Lucky for us, our teenage sons still get excited for family movie night—and while we’ve added more superhero blockbusters and irreverent comedies to the queue, my husband and I are glad to say some recent animated movies have become big hits within our family.

Like most parents, I have a treasure trove of favorite sayings. My sons have heard them so many times they can now recite them as readily as they sing their favorite rap lyrics. These adages fit every needed occasion, and I know they’ve made an impact because my sons often parrot these truths back to me. That’s a good thing, because clearly I’m still a work in progress.

I graduated high school limping through calculus. My plans for college included a humanities-related major and a college schedule that allowed for the easiest math class available. Since then, other than balancing a checkbook, converting fractions in recipes, and using percentages to find sale prices when I rummage through clearance racks at Banana Republic, I haven’t needed math skills that much as an adult. But then, a pandemic shifted everything off course.

First of all, I see you. Not in a creepy, “Every breath you take I’m watching you” kind of way, but in a, “While I don’t know exactly what you’re going through, I know it’s super-hard” kind of way. I see your panicked Sunday night stories on Instagram, your tongue-in-cheek tweets about the obnoxious kids in your class, your frantic Facebook post about the COVID numbers in your classroom. I was a high school English teacher a few years ago, and it was difficult back then. There was the angry st

After a season-ending broken wrist in February 2020, my 16-year-old son took last basketball season off and focused on surviving online school. This year, though, like the good mom I try to be, I encouraged (pushed?) him to play in a season that has started to feel like an episode from a reality show called Adults Behaving Badly.

In early November, a teenage girl was rescued from her abductor by using a hand signal she learned on TikTok. “See, Mom. TikTok isn’t just dumb videos,” my 16-year-old son was quick to point out. He was tired of hearing me ask, “How many hours a day do you spend scrolling through this nonsense? And what’s a duet again?”

When I was in the fourth grade, our school Christmas concert featured a select choir with the best singers performing “The Christmas Song.” I confidently signed up to audition, all the while picturing myself on the stage in a sparkly Christmas dress, the spotlight beaming on me as I sang my heart out to a crowd of beloved grandparents and teachers. The audition came, and I nailed it. And then the list of performers was released.

During my college years, I spent three summers working at camp. The days were long, the tasks often unglamorous. It was there I learned the proper way to put on toilet paper rolls and make a bed with hospital corners. But I learned some life-altering lessons there, too, including a mantra I still repeat: Gratitude evaporates frustration.

When Facebook was down, I rejoiced. There really wasn’t much I would miss. I’m frustrated by the targeted ads (I’m looking at you, Wish), I’m salty about the immutable arguments on the neighborhood Facebook page, and I’m embarrassed by the time-suck my scrolling habit can become. However, there’s one part of Facebook I’m not sure I’m ready to part with: my mom Facebook group. I know some love to hate them, but I’ve actually found a safe sense of community in mine.

Sweaty palms, ticking clocks, and parental pressures. Throw in a reading about the artistic influence of Jan Lievens and the value of n – m, and you have a recipe for high-stakes tests like the ACT and the SAT. For the past four years, I’ve worked as both a college writing instructor and an ACT/SAT tutor for English, reading, and writing. Most importantly, though, I’m also the mom of teenagers preparing to apply for college. Here are my thoughts: 4 Things to Know About the ACT and SAT

One night when I was 16, I missed my midnight curfew. Thanks to my father’s response, that fateful night has become part of our family folklore. I was sitting in the front seat of my 1979 Monte Carlo talking with a soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend, watching the minutes tick by until midnight, and then beyond.