I got a little bit of helpful advice from my son's middle school principal. I had just shelled out $35 or $40 for a new backpack. And she suggested I buy one or two more.

Great idea!

The principal advised in a letter to parents that our kids could really have their crap together if they color coordinated their backpacks to the classes of the day. And I quote:

"Parents have found it helpful to have two or even three different colored backpacks to maintain organization at home, especially in th emornings when everyone is in a hurry to get out of the house.''

Hmmm, I thought. Did principal Kris Black read this in a Martha Stewart magazine?

The school, Seminole Middle in Plantation, is on block scheduling, so on Tuesdays and Thursdays they have four 85-minute classes, and on Wednesdays and Fridays they have four different classes, and on Mondays they have a short version of all eight classes.

I asked Creed what he thought of the idea.

"Creed, do you want me to buy you different colored backpacks for your odd and even days?''

"No,'' he said indignantly.

"Why not?' I asked.

"I'm not organized!,'' he said, as if the word "organized'' was a disease.

"Yes," I said, picturing his messy closets, "I know.''

> Discuss this entry

Sometimes kids ask questions you can't answer, or you don't want to.

I got this question from my six year old, Lily, this week:

"Mommy, how do you stick a knife in a bad guy?''

I just didn't know where to start, to respond to that.

"Do you just stick and stick and stick until it goes in?'' she asked. "Because knives aren't that sharp.''

Ahh, now we're getting somewhere. Our knives in the kitchen are so dull, they probably would not be effective against a bad guy. I agree.

"It's not nice to kill someone who isn't a bad guy,'' she added.

Not nice. So true.

Sometimes you're just not in the mood to give a Big Speech. Ya know?

> Discuss this entry

There's something enduring about hand clapping games.

My 6-year-old daughter Lily makes me play them all the time. Just like I did when I was six.

You know what I'm talking about, where you clap hands with each other while singing the lyrics of a silly song?

Here's the one Lily was chanting the other day:

Mr. Mailman do your duty

Here comes a lady with a big, fat booty

She can do the pom pom

And she can do the twist

But most of all she can kiss kiss kiss

K-i s- s

What does that spell?

Kiss!

> Discuss this entry

I was pretty dismayed when I read my letter from Seminole Middle School Principal Kris Black. It welcomed parents to an exciting school year, and listed "upcoming important dates.''

And once again, the at-home moms are favored above all. The school is holding its parent
meeting for its DECAL program (Division of Enhanced Communication and Law for advanced and gifted students) during work hours on Wednesday. It's at 3 p.m.

I called the school to ask why they're holding it during the day and to register my discontent. They always hold it during the day, I was told. "Unfortunately, the teachers aren't here in the evenings,'' I was told.

So once a year they can't accommodate the parents by holding the meeting at 5:30 p.m.?

Or do they not want the parents to be able to come?

I might be able to get off work for two to three hours in order to drive out there, attend the meeting, try to address my son's schedule (he said they put him in Sign Language II instead of Spanish II) and return to work downtown. But how many other working parents will be able to? What if they work in Miami or Palm Beach County?

Black tells us in her letter that research shows that "when the home and the school work closely together'' children benefit.

I agree. But I've noticed over the years that the schools cater to the parents (usually moms) who don't work.

Moms who work have it tough. We labor all day, and then we go home and have to take care of housework, homework and everything else, crammed into the few hours until bedtime. It takes a lot of effort to be an involved parent in your child's school if you work full-time. I'll bet the kids of working parents are the ones most at-risk of failing in school. These are the kids and parents the schools should be trying harder to reach.

It sure would be nice if principals like Black faced reality and tried to make it a little easier for the working parents to be involved.

> Discuss this entry

It is with heavy heart that I report, two months after everyone else reported it, that PBS is drastically cutting its offerings of "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood.''

Goodbye, King Friday. Henrietta Pussycat, we sure did love you. Queen Sara, we admired your community involvement.

Here's what the Associated Press reported in June:

"PBS says it will no longer offer episodes of "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood" to its member stations each weekday, but will instead send stations just one episode per week to air starting in the fall. PBS says it is making the decision because the show is no longer in production, and because its menu of other programming continues to expand.''

That means a station would have to pre-record all the episodes of the show over the summer if they wanted to try showing the tennis-shoe tossing Mr. Rogers every day.

Somehow I missed this news and only heard it on the radio this week, in August.

It's one of those things you feel you have to talk through, so I told a cashier yesterday and she was pretty broken up, also.

One guy is so upset about losing the "special nurturing voice'' of Mr. Rogers that he created this website, SaveMisterRogers.com.

As we try to absorb this devastating news, let's pay tribute to the late Mr. Rogers (he died in 2003 of stomach cancer) by reading the lyrics of one of his special songs. It's good to know that Mr. Rogers even loved our internal organs:

I think you're a special person And I like your ins and outsides. Everybody's fancy. Everybody's fine. Your body's fancy and so is mine.

Goodbye, neighbor.

> Discuss this entry

I feel that I should retaliate against my cousin for buying Lily a Webkinz bunny.

He asked me if she had one, and informed me that his kids love their Webkinz so much they
are on the computer every single day.

Even though he's one of my favorite cousins, I should have burned the bunny right then and there.

It's cute and all. But Webkinz is one of those stuffed animals that comes with a secret code. And it turns out the bunny can be tossed in the fire. Because as long as your child gets that secret code, he or she has access to a special website where a cyberversion of the bunny "lives.'' And apparently it's so much fun even for a six-year-old, that they will want to hog your computer every extra minute.

I thought we had all decided that people who live cyberlives online, who have "jobs'' and "earn money'' and "purchase things'' all in quote marks, online, are socially deficient and pretty weird. No?

Yet almost every day, I have to hear Lily ask, "Mommy, can I get on w-w-w-dot?'' And I let her.

On the company's website, they answer such questions as: "Are the wishing well and the Wheel of Wow gambling?'' And "Can Webkinz pets die?''

I'll leave you hanging on the answers.

The game is educational I suppose. But so is going to the library and checking out five books.

Should I be writing in her babybook that her first logon name was "crystal5pink'' and her first password "babydolly5''?

And now that you all know her secrets, will she get on the website to find that someone has broken into her bunny's "apartment" and stolen the "pink couch" out of his "bedroom"? Will you get her bunny fired from his "job" "painting fences"?

Please, parents, help me find that perfect Christmas gift for my cousin this year.

> Discuss this entry

At first I wasn't sure if arming my teen-ager would be a good idea. I pictured him sawing off the end of his new BB-gun rifle and shoving the weapon into his shorts, jumping on his bicycle and
riding towards some kind of stand-off with Plantation police.

But putting trust in teens, scary as it might feel, can actually build a sense of responsibility in them. I think kids rise to expectations. And you have to set them very high.

So, yes, we bought Creed a BB-gun for his 13th birthday. We also bought him a few pistol-style air guns that shoot plastic BBs and are less powerful than the rifle, in case you "accidentally'' shot someone with it.

I think most boys had a BB gun at some point in their youth, and I wasn't going to deprive him. Even I spent quite a bit of time as a teen shooting BB guns. I was on a BB-gun shooting team with other kids whose parents worked at Oklahoma State Penitentiary. We were taught to shoot by convicts, so I guess you could say we were trained by experts.

But there was a kid among us, Jimmy Cook, with a glass eye -- the result of a ricocheted BB. Creed has heard about him 1,000 times. So Creed wears his gun goggles.

So far, no one has been seriously injured.

I told Creed he could shoot lizards. He was horrified. That's when the teen came out:

"Mom, I don't shoot lizards! I'm not a monster like you!''

OK. Guess I'll have to dust off my trigger finger and take care of those lizards myself.

> Discuss this entry

Any parent who's had a boy in tackle football knows what I'm talking about when I say that it's the next best thing to disciplinary boot camp.

They might not paddle in the schools anymore, but thank goodness football hasn't wimped out.

Kids who are treated like babies into adulthood will always be babies. I'm sure you work with some.

Not in football. In football, it's, 'No excuses, just do it.''

Creed's coaches are fond of telling his team that football is about "controlled violence,'' and "controlled aggression.''

Strength of body, and mind.

When a kid got yelled at for not paying attention and then glared at the coach, he was outta there. You will not disrespect a coach, he was told. Take your stuff and leave.

They teach physical toughness, too. When a kid was sitting on the field the other night after a tough two hour practice in the blazing sun, he was asked: Are you passing out? No, he wasn't.

OK, came the coach's response. Then get up on one knee! We don't sit down on the field!

One coach told my son's team that they're there to learn about life: That life is tough, you have to work really hard, and sometimes someone's going to put a foot up your rear. And you just have to learn to deal with it.

Touchdown!

> Discuss this entry

We've probably all had the experience of our young ones making some kind of rude observation that is best kept to oneself. (Such as when Lily looked at a woman in the Publix checkout next to me, and asked, "Mommy, is that a man?''')

Adults who don't have a self-censor have no friends. But we have to expect this kind of embarrassment from kids.

This weekend we went to visit the grandparents. They're in their 70s.

Lily and I and her grandmother were sitting at the kitchen table.

"Are you going to live in this house forever?'' Lily inquired.

"Well, I don't know. Maybe,'' her grandmother replied.

Lily paused for a great while.

And then she said, so innocently:

"How do you spell die?''

Great question, Lily. And why do you ask?

> Discuss this entry

I've checked out a couple of the county's water parks in recent weeks, and I was impressed with one of them.

If your child is in daycare they've probably already been there, to T.Y. Park in Hollywood. That's TopeeKeegee Yugnee Park, off Sheridan Street. It's a lot of fun, and reasonably priced.

On the other hand, the new regional park in Lauderhill, the Central Broward Regional Park, was a maddening experience for me and the other parents. That park is off U.S. 441 and Sunrise Boulevard.

Apparently the county has two other water playgrounds. One is at C.B. Smith Park, the other at Quiet Waters Park. I haven't been to those yet.

T.Y. Park's Castaway Island is $6.50 for entry. They allow you to bring in food and drinks from outside, so you can really keep the cost down. Only when they're packed do they charge you by the session, one hour and 50 minutes, and make you pay $4.50 for an additional session. When I went there a couple weeks ago, we paid one fee and stayed as long as we wanted.

You also pay $1.50 per person to get into the park gate itself, on weekends. We went on a day off from school, so it was free to get into the park.

At the Lauderhill park, which is new, the entry fee to the water playground is lower, just $4.50. But it only allows you in
for one session of an hour and 50 minutes. There's no provision for a person who arrives in mid-session.

Let's say you arrive at 12:40 p.m., like I and another parent did. The session was set to end at 1:20 p.m. We either had to wait 40 minutes for the next session to begin, or throw out $4.50 per person for only 40 minutes of fun. Both of us had a few kids with us, and we felt ripped off. I had hoped to make a day of it. I asked what would happen if there were only 20 minutes left when a person arrived, and they said they would still charge full price. That stinks.

The other guy started yelling about how his tax dollars were being used for this new park, and he was highly upset he had to stand around 40 minutes to get his money's worth.

I didn't have the patience to stand in the blazing sun that long, so I paid and got the shortened experience. This waterpark also bans coolers and food from outside vendors, so we had to eat our Subway sandwiches in the parking lot. Not cool.

By the way you also have to pay $1.50 a person to get into this park on weekends. No wonder no one goes there, as we wrote about recently.

If you're going to check out this water park, I recommend calling to find out what time the sessions start, so you don't feel ripped off like I did.

Central Broward Regional Park
3700 N.W. 11th Place
Lauderhill, FL 33311
Phone: 954-321-1170
Fax: 954-321-1110
E-mail: CBRP@broward.org

> Discuss this entry

Attention, students.

This is not
a good outfit
for the prom.

I know you thought it would be a good idea, but please do NOT WEAR PAJAMAS to the FORMAL DANCE!!!

Apparently there is enough real danger of eighth-graders doing just that, yes, wearing their p.j.s to the high school f-o-r-m-a-l, that Seminole Middle School felt the need to send an alert in the school newsletter.

And it says, after noting a formal dress code, that "the following is NOT ALLOWED!'': Jeans, sneakers, slippers, PJs, underwear that's showing, low necklines, bare midriffs, strapless dresses.

Am I the only one surprised by this? Don't 13- and 14-year-olds know that an evening gown is not the same as a night gown? Don't they know that Cinderella's "slippers'' were made of glass, not fuzz?

I know fashions do change over time, but come on!

> Discuss this entry

No sooner had we paid off one kids' pre-paid college tuition plan, and gotten within a few months of paying off the other, when the two announced their career ambitions: trash man and
drive-through restaurant cashier.

Creed, who is 12, launched the conversation with his comments about how much fun it would be to work on the trash truck. It was the day after bulk trash pickup.

"I'll come visit you in your cardboard box,'' I said.

I don't know how to write the sound that he makes when he thinks what I'm saying is wrong. It's what I call the Exaggerated Gasp, and it is akin to an asthma attack wheeze into a microphone.

"Garbage men make a lot of money!'' he said. "They make more than teachers.''

I suspect he picked up that fact from one of his teachers, probably someone up high in the union.

"Teachers get the summer off,'' I countered, "but while they're on the beach, you would still be sifting through people's castoff garbage.''

Lily piped in. "I'm going to be a register.''

"What is a register?'' I asked, picturing an accounting ledger, and Lily sitting over it with a sharp pencil and designer eyeglasses. I was starting to feel better.

"You know those people you give money to with the register? They get paid!'' she said.

"You mean like a McDonald's drive-through lady who works on the cash register?''

"Yes!''

I had a flashback to a running discussion I had with Creed when he was about 5. The theme was "Is BLANK a good job?'' And he had asked me after we went through a toll booth on the Turnpike, "Is that a good job?''

I'm not criticizing all the good people who hold these jobs. But we've spent a fortune on college tuitions for these two, already. And if you don't use these pre-paid plans, you don't even earn interest on all the money you shelled out!

Plus, as parents aren't we supposed to push our kids to get as educated as they can? Because I want to live in a nice assisted living facility when I get old. A place with a nice hot tub.

"Lily, you are going to be a doctor who delivers babies,'' I said. "And Creed, you're going to be a veterinarian.''

End of story. Unless, of course, Creed's high school graduation coincides with bulk trash day, and he succumbs to the dream.

> Discuss this entry

Our 7th-grader has never used profanity in front of us, nor have we ever overheard him cursing with his friends. He has three favorite exclamations these days. One is, "Wow,'' which I wrote
about previously. It's his way of expressing just how amazed he is at how dumb his parents are.

Another new favorite is simply what I would call the Exaggerated Gasp. I hope he never uses this rapid (and very loud) inhalation when small parts or flying insects are near his mouth, because he might end up choking on something.

The third is, "What the heck?!'' He says this all the time. I don't mind it at all. How sweet, I thought.

Until this weekend. Creed has a tendency to talk in his sleep, and occasionally to sleepwalk. I read a story this weekend about someone being cleared of a crime he committed while supposedly sleepwalking. I guess that's what inspires this blog post.

In the middle of the night, Creed shouted at the top of his lungs, "What the HELL????!!!!!!!!''

The first thing I thought as I was startled from sleep was, "He cursed. So that means all this time when he substituted the word 'heck,' it was only for the benefit of his parents. Sigh.' "
The second thing I thought was, "Oh my gosh, is Creed alright?!''

I went in his room and he was sitting up in bed, apparently recovering from a nightmare.

The next day he had no recollection. He sure did think it was funny, though. I think he laughed for 10 minutes straight when Bob told him what he had screamed.

If I were really an insane and unfair parent -- and some of us were raised by such people -- I would use this as a confession from his subconscious. And punish him accordingly. I told him I was considering it -- I was joking but wanted to broach the issue -- and he said that "Hell'' is not a curse word. He claims he has used this word in the classroom when necessary.

True a preacher can say it without raising eyebrows. But not a 12-year-old who is not giving a sermon.

> Discuss this entry

The Contra-Costa Times wrote about the new reality TV show that features students at Cypress Bay High School in Weston.

Here's a sample of what they wrote: " God bless Amanda Lorber, a senior at Cypress Bay High School in Weston, Fla., who says "Journalists are the most important part of the world."

It doesn't stay all rosey, though. The writer eventually comes to this conclusion: "Just one problem: "The Paper," while certainly worthwhile, has yet to live up to my lofty hopes. For one thing, Amanda's a bit of a dork — a power-hungry, show-tunes-loving Pollyanna who fails to see that she doesn't have the respect of her staff. Seizing upon this dynamic, the producers seem obsessed with turning her into one of those caricaturized love-to-hate-her females that TV thrives upon.''

Read the full story here.

> Discuss this entry

When you were in school, if you launched a mouthful of profanity in one of your classes, and your teacher overheard, could you have just paid the teacher 25 cents and been done with it?

If you said, "no, I would have received a painful paddling with a piece of wood'' then you are not a recent student at Cypress Bay High School in Weston.

Two of the teachers there apparently have "curse cans,'' where quarters are collected from students who use profanity in class.

I am judging a high school journalism contest and that's how I found out about this. Student journalist Emily Miller wrote about it for that school's newspaper, The Circuit.

One student was quoted saying "I have probably paid over $15.''

!!!!

That's 90 curse words that flew out of her mouth!

By the way, this is the same school and paper that are the subject of their very own MTV reality show.

This swear jar seems unfair. Why should rich kids be able to curse more than poor kids?

> Discuss this entry

I got a thick envelope in the mail from the Broward County School Board.

Must be important, I thought.

Inside was a packet of advertisements. The Miami Herald, Huntington Learning Center, Wyndham Vacation Resorts, Vonage phone service, Dish Network, Proactiv, ADT Home Security systems, Payless Shoes, Sears, and oh, a newsletter from the school board.

They might as well not bother throwing the flimsy newsletter in there. Most people probably don't get to it before they toss the packet in the trash.

I sure hope they're making lots of money selling out the parents to a bunch of advertisers.

> Discuss this entry

Apparently a large percentage of kids get picked on at school.

Lily, my 6 year old, regularly complains of being bullied, usually at the hands of a boy who likes her. At Spring Break camp, a 5-year-old boy actually used the "F'' word in telling her "F--- you.'' I was quite surprised to hear this come out of her mouth. This same lad also told her that her mother (that's me) is ugly. I found that much more offensive than the first thing he said.

I find it really telling that boys start in kindergarten driving the females they love insane, as a way of showing love. Hmmm.

Anyway, our sister paper in Orlando, the Orlando Sentinel, has an interesting post about bullying on their parenting blog. Check it out by clicking here.

> Discuss this entry

I found a way to get more for your tax dollars: Instead of carting your kid all over town, tell your kid to ride the county bus!

I'm not sure why it took me so long to figure this out, since a county bus comes belching by a block from my house every few minutes, seems like.

But I turned to public transportation after Creed, my 12 year old, told me something that scared the crap out of me. He and his friends were riding their bikes all the way out west -- trying to get to Sawgrass Mills! That means riding through intersections like Broward Boulevard and University. Not safe.

I suggested they take the bus. And now I'm offering to buy him a bus pass. I mean, the kids can explore the county on the bus. They carry cell phones, so it's not dangerous, certainly compared to riding a bike. They've ridden it a couple times now to Sawgrass Mills, to see a movie.

He's learning the layout of this area, learning a little bit of responsibility, and gaining independence. And he'll grow up appreciating the possibilities of mass transit.

A few days after we allowed Creed to take the bus for the first time, I asked Bob how Creed's dentist appointment went.

"I don't know,'' he said. "I had to drop him off and told him to take the bus home.''

Yes, this idea is catching on nicely.

> Discuss this entry

My 6-year-old daughter is extremely jealous of anyone else I show affection to, outside the family.

She quizzes me relentlessly about how much I love the person -- often a friend of hers I gave a hug to, or was nice to. So I told her that "God says we should love everyone.''
Her response was, "Well, I don't.''

Ever since then she is constantly checking the level of mommy's Love for Complete Strangers. It's a concept she cannot accept.

I took her to T.Y. Park in Hollywood Saturday for her birthday. She wanted to know if I loved everyone there at the park that day, and if so, how much, compared to my love for her.

I've tried to explain the concept of loving people as friends, but she doesn't understand it. Ditto for the idea that people are capable of infinite amounts of love, and giving my love to someone else does not require subtracting any from her.

Still, my rule of thumb is if your child is seeking affirmation of your love, you give it, even if it's wrapped in an annoying interrogation where you are the Betrayer for calling another child "Sweetie.''

I'm beginning to conclude, though, that some people are born with insecurities and they're not all the product of experience, as I had once thought.

Yesterday she even found herself struggling over the idea that before she was born, I did not love her! This is an idea she came up with, of course.

And she was talking it out with me, trying to come to grips with a world in which her older brother, Creed, was the sole object of momma's affection.

"But you didn't even exist, Lily!'' I told her in my own defense.

She frowned and I could see her trying to accept this explanation. She's probably still mulling it over.

> Discuss this entry

Now that my 12-year-old son has started acting like a teenager, I will have lots more to blog about. That's the only upside.

The first sign that our son had evolved into That Which We've Dreaded for 12-and-a-Half-Years was his misappropriation of the word "wow.''.

He uses it as a term of derision, as in "Wow. You are REALLLLLLLLLLY stupid.''

You can't imagine how annoying the word "wow'' can be.

Let me give you some examples so you can try.

I say, "A $250 bike is way too expensive for a kid your age.'' He says, "Wow.''

I say, "I can't believe one of your friends already is allowed to have a pierced ear.'' He says, "Wow.''

I say, "I'm surprised your friend's parents would take you to see the Bodies exhibit without making sure you were allowed.'' He says, "Wow.''

I say, "You're not allowed to stay out till midnight. You're only 12.'' He says, "Wow.''

You get the idea? Annoying.

An efficient use of the English language. But annoying.

Really annoying. Wow.

> Discuss this entry

If you have a brother or sister then you know how important it is to give a better cut-down than you receive.

My kids are 12 and 5. Recently I found out about a couple of doozies.

Lily came home this week telling us that her friend made her "pinky promise' not to tell anyone a big secret. The secret was that "Mrs. Hazell (at school) used to be named Mrs. Hazellbutt.''

Thus Creed told her she believes everything; she's gullible.

"I don't believe everything,'' she told me on our way to school. "I don't believe what Creed tells me, like when he says, "Mom doesn't love you. She wants you to run away to another family and live there.' "

Ahhh, those fun sibling fights. I grew up as one of four girls, so I know all about this subject.

She also asked me last week, "Mommy, am I normal?'' Yes, I told her. "Oh,'' she responded, " 'cuz Creed said I"m not.''

Lily is a very sensitive person, and doesn't go on the attack much. Plus she's only in kindergarten. So I was pretty impressed when I heard what she came up with in a recent squabble while Creed was babysitting her.

"God hates you!'' she screamed at Creed. Creed was appalled, and told me about it later.

She had a basis for this -- she said he was being mean to her, and that God "hates' mean people. Well her theology might be a little askew but I had to give her points for the large scope and depth of this cut-down.

I'm not inclined to stomp on their freedom of expression, as long as it doesn't include profanity or any slandering of their mother. People need to be able to defend themselves in this world, and don't you think that sibling rivalries are fertile training ground?

I don't allow physical abuse. But I think being verbally pummelled by a brother or sister, and learning how to shrug that off, can only prepare you for life in America.

> Discuss this entry

Yesterday, Lily and I did two laps around the block. She was roller skating. I was carrying my dinner plate. (Don't let this get posted on our diet blog. It's not a recommended form of
exercise.)

She was talking away. She asked if we could do another lap. "Then we could keep talking,'' she said.

"OK,'' was my answer, even though my plate was empty by then.

She didn't waste a second with what was burning on her mind: "Do ponies lay eggs?''

I laughed out loud and told her no. She was kind of embarrassed and said, "I knew they didn't. Well, I really thought they did.'' This is a 5-year-old. They're not good at covering up for embarrassing lapses of knowledge.

I told her ponies don't come out in eggs but they do come out covered in a mucous-like slime, which the mommy horse proceeds to lick off. Yum, yum. Time for dessert.

> Discuss this entry

Lily lost her first tooth this week. She's 5.

I don't have much time so I'm going to tell you the contents of her letter to the Tooth Fairy, complete with her spelling errors:

"I love to go to the store because I can run in the store it is fun it is loveubl And it is cool and it is. 1. Storey.''

"I love to play cech becase it is fun I like to play cech it is fun. 2. Storey''

"I lost a tooth I wut sum mune frum the tooth fairy I lost 2 teth I wut sum muny.''

Lily believes in the Tooth Fairy. And that is because we told her there is a cute little Tooth Fairy flying around out there.

But she also asked us yesterday: "Are leprechauns real?''

OF COURSE NOT!!!! we answered. I mean, how absurd.

> Discuss this entry

There comes a time in parenting when you realize that when you go somewhere on a trip, it's not all about you, it's about the kids, and that if they have a good time, the trip is a success.

But I haven't reached that point yet, so I'm still hacked about my camping trip this weekend.

One of my colleagues, Ralph De La Cruz, wrote today about how hard it was to find a camping spot this weekend. But apparently he did not check out Peanut Island in Palm Beach County.
Or maybe he went on Saturday, the more popular day.

We went camping Sunday. After our recent campout in the middle of Florida at the awesome Kissimmee Prairie Preserve State Park, I was so revved up about camping I bought a new tent. I searched the calendar and promised myself that every three-day weekend, when the kids are out of school for whatever reason, we would go camping.

But now I know that not every campout is a soul-enriching experience. Why did I think that going to a beach packed with other South Floridians and surrounded by civilization on all sides would feel like a get-away?

Still, I have to recommend this place. Lots of people go there just for the day, to picnic. You take a water taxi over there from the Riviera Beach Marina. For camping, you can book it a few months ahead of time. The campsites are soft sand, with picnic tables, and grills. The bathrooms have hot water and showers.

Any time you can yank your kids away from the TV, it's good.

But I had a few setbacks that kind of fouled the mood. Never pack a bottle of whiskey in a bag of your youngest child's clothing, for one thing.

And if you take the family dog along, and the family dog is stronger than your youngest child, do not give the dog's leash to the youngest child to hold.

Also, it rained.

Apparently if you want to know if it's going to rain in a particular area on a particular day, just find out, "Is Brittany going camping there?''

I just have to keep telling myself that the kids had fun, and that's the important thing.

> Discuss this entry