I just sent two of my kids off on a plane by themselves — not an easy thing for a mother who worries over whether or not they ate breakfast on any given morning. But I am trusting they will be fine. At least I am working on trusting...

Being a parent is like being a bird, and as such, entails two jobs. The first is making a nest. I'm pretty good at that part. Keeping the offspring safe and warm and feeling nurtured is something that comes fairly naturally to me. I'm happy with the metaphorical gathering of sticks and worms.

The second part is where things get a little rough.

Flickr: Photo by mollypopI know I seem like a mean mother -- especially where holidays are concerned. While many parents are weaving tales of the Easter Bunny hiding baskets of chocolate eggs in the back lawn, I rail on about the dangers of marketing to children, the commercialization of religious traditions, and the fact that candy is a health hazard.

At Christmas, if my kids feel compelled to sit on the lap of a red-suited, overweight, part-time employee at the mall, they do not for a minute imagine that that man will be bringing them toys via our gas-fire chimney.