Last summer, I went to Earth, Wind & Fire’s 40^th anniversary concert. I knew when I bought the tickets that I was going to offer myself up as a background vocalist and showgirl right from my seat. I mean, come on—it’s Earth, Wind & Fire. “Emotions,” “Fantasy,” “Let’s Groove,” “Boogie Wonderland” Earth, Wind & Fire. That’s a guaranteed party.

There were people in my section I would’ve never pinned as EWF fans. Jim from accounting, Skater Guy Bill, the lady who frowns at you when you have too many items at the express checkout. They all came on out. There was another, more important person there I never would’ve expected: my mommy. And she was right next to me, hollering out all the lyrics like Phillip Bailey was going to call her onstage for a job well done.

Well, now I know for sure what my answer will be when my almost 11-year-old daughter's pediatrician asks if we want the HPV vaccine at her next check-up: An emphatic "NO." I was leaning in that direction anyway, for various reasons (more on those in a minute), but the latest news on Gardisil pretty much sealed the deal -- and if you have a tween girl, it might do the same for you.

In a study of 900 girls and young women between the ages of 11 and 26 who received the HPV vaccine, it was the 11- to 12-year-old group who experienced the worst side effects, from pain, dizziness, bruising, and swelling at the injection site to (in rare cases) fainting. These symptoms generally showed up about two weeks after the vaccine was administered.

Alex in 'Bully'After attending a screening of the new documentary Bully, I couldn't help but sit in my seat a few minutes after the credits started rolling, assaulted by a gamut of emotions. From sadness and hope to guilt and frustration and onto feelings of compassion, thoughtfulness, and inspiration, this film will evoke that voice in your head that says, Wow, something really needs to be done.

The movie won't win anyone over on its style or artistry, but it gets straight to the heart of the matter. Director Lee Hirsch spent about a year with children who have been bullied, as well as those dealing with the tragic aftermath -- the families and friends coping with the suicides of 17-year-old Tyler Long and 11-year-old Ty Smalley.

It's heartbreaking and difficult to watch. You'll leave the theater feeling like you've been punched in the gut. But, really, that's the whole point. That's what makes this documentary so great.

Schools should not be providing condoms to middle schoolers. This seems obvious, no? But not everyone agrees, it seems.

A school committee in Springfield, Massachusetts approved a policy that would make condoms available to kids over the age of 12 as part of a comprehensive reproductive health policy to prevent sexually transmitted diseases and pregnancy.

That is one hell of a school supply. Can you imagine this popping up on your school’s “wish list” items? I wonder, will they have to ask the school nurse for condoms? Or maybe they will put them in one of those neat little dispensers in the boys' bathroom.

Once upon a time -- about a week and a half ago -- I thought I'd heard the worst in proud parenting moments. Potty parties -- throwing open the doors and inviting the neighbors to celebrate the fact that your kid took a dump in a toilet -- were the worst that this generation of parents overly impressed with their kids had to offer. I was wrong. Introducing: period parties.

Granted, in certain cultures, this isn't so unusual. There have always been formal ceremonies celebrating a girl's coming of age, but it is ridiculously over the top that now everyone and their hippy cousin is doing it.

It seems we've just gone from one bodily fluid to another, and OMG, it's much, much worse. Sometimes called "menarche parties" -- because apparently that's classier than sending out an invite that says, "Aunt Flo is finally in town for my girl, let's all get down and par-tay" -- are both officially "a thing" and officially a sign that parents have lost their ever loving minds.

When I read an article on CNN last week that declared "Fat is the new ugly on the playground," I immediately felt like crying in the corner. In part because I lived through the torture of being the chubby kid for the better part of my grade school experience. In part because it just about kills me to read that children as young as FOUR are worrying that they're fat and, thus, worthless. But above both of those reasons, I wanted to scream and sob, because guess what -- unfortunately, fat is not the "new" ugly.

Kids have been cruelly taunting their peers by calling one another "fat" for decades. I lived through it in the mid-'90s, and my mom lived through it in the early '60s. And now, for it to be 2012, and we still haven't figured out how to help our children evolve beyond body image bullying? And the problem seems to have gotten even worse and started affecting children even younger? It's shameful and embarrassing.

It’s Ash Wednesday, a time to repent and get your spiritual game on track for Lenten season. It’s kind of hard for me to focus this year because things have been pretty tense in my household for the past couple of weeks, the longest an issue has ever had a chokehold on our little family since Girl Child was born. It started when I did a random search of her cell phone and found out, among other things, that she had called a boy at 4 in the morning — on the cell phone I bought and pay monthly for — and was exacerbated by the fact that I had peeled myself out of bed at 3 to trudge to the laundromat and wash her funky, filthy clothes while she was doing it.

I know. I don’t want to talk about it any more than you want to read about it but this shit is going to happen so buckle up, buttercup.

If you have a child, chances are that one day very soon you will have to sit them down and have "THE SEX TALK." Most likely you’ll put it off because they are still far too young to even know what sex is, and occasionally you’re right. I’m 38 and I’m pretty sure my father thinks I’m almost ready for the talk.