Growing up and becoming wisecracks

My 8-year-old daughter wants to play football. We live in Argentina, where the sport shines. But not for girls. So she has to play with the boys.

My three kids walked into the forest and slowed down in mind and body to enjoy the adventure of the wild. I smiled.

My eight-year-old daughter is growing up and child’s meals, she declares, just don’t cut it anymore.

My son is keen on his new dairy-free diet. He’s already seeing the results in his muscles.

My son’s got to do a milk-free diet and his sister is showing solidarity, except with chocolate and, well, cake.

Monsters still rule in my children’s imaginations, even as the digital world encroaches. Ask my eldest daughter about the haunted room at school.