Trying to be a good Samaritan, I stop in the road to save a turtle but then realize I am afraid to touch it.

My daughter uses reverse psychology, telling me how disappointed she is when she thinks she's caught me smoking.

I learn that although I have many personal strengths, organization is not one of them.

I have said many times that if I don't make it as a writer and I become too feeble to be a good chiropractor then I will make a living baking unicorn and Barbie cakes for kids parties. Piping purple frosting into flowers of a Victorian ball gown or making sure the sugar cone horn is angled just right is a secret passion of mine. I could do it all day. One of my patients that also shares my unicorn baking passion presented me with a hilarious handmade Yeti style cup the other day. I could not take my eyes off of it between the glitter, the real epoxied rainbow sprinkles, the baking unicorn, and of course the hilarious message. It seemed that I could not have received a more awesome and appropriate gift. The next couple of days I proudly poured every cold drink I ingested into it. Senia Mae was also smitten with the glitter and the sprinkles. So lickable... almost, so sweet... but not really.

In my forty-four years I have learned that there are only two types of people in the morning: the ones who are morning people and the others who are clearly NOT morning people. These two types of personalities can happily coexist but it does require a delicate push/pull dance from both sides. Clearly in our home today the morning people took over the entire dance and grabbed the microphones. I'm not going to say she's a slug... but Senia Mae, like myself, is NOT a morning person. She moves at the pace of a turtle until she is completely awake. This morning Kim had the pleasure of rising the princess, of which the first three gentle attempts were a complete failure. Mommy Kim, with her morning person ingenuity, thought giving Senia Mae a little extra incentive might work. She hit the volume on her phone up as loud as it would go and started blaring, "Bang Your Head... Metal health will drive you MAD" by Quiet Riot and secretly snuck out of the room.

It's always shocking to hear any stern disciplinary words coming from the mouth of my tenderhearted daughter, especially since they are usually connected to a string of words that just left my lips. If you ever wonder how your parenting style sounds, hide in the bushes and give a listen to how your little ones talk to their own kids. It might surprise you. Last night I walked around the perimeter of the house to close the gate to the chicken coop. This corner of the house is closest to Senia Mae's bedroom and even though our home is made of sturdy brick, it is hardly soundproof. I overheard her reprimanding her cat, Tulip. I could hear Senia Mae grunting, "Tulip, NOW!" in a seriously irritated voice. Even though I usually save that particular threat as the fourth and final warning, I realized then that I was going to have to be a little more aware of any uncensored words that escaped my mouth. Who knew that my parenting was going to be the primary model for her role playing. AARG! Back in the house I noticed her looking at herself in the bathroom mirror. "How'd you get that red spot above your eye?" I asked "Tulip scratched me," she said. "Why did she scratch you?" "Well I was trying to get her tucked into bed and she was growling at me."

Let me just start by saying that most of the time I am a fairly good mother... for real. But today? I must admit that I tricked my own child because it was too easy and just too funny. So, yes, forgive me father because this incident happened on the ride home from church! It can be challenging raising a child in an ever-consuming world of continuous electronic stimulation. With the availability iPhones, tablets, and dvd players right in the car, I can almost guarantee that having a conversation with my daughter will likely not happen. It is too tempting to have her face plastered to a screen where she can just engage in the life of someone else instead of her own. This issue really bothers me and I try to dissuade too much electronic usage, especially during short trips in the car where my daughter and I have a moment to catch up. Some days I win the battle. Other days I lose.

OK, I admit it, I am a terrible housekeeper. Although I can prepare a five course spread that looks like the Pioneer Woman herself just moved into my kitchen, the daily nuances of domestic science are still exactly that... A CHORE. "I will gladly pay someone to do this work..." I say to Kim, dreading the laundry pile that needs folding."Why can't every house have a live in maid like Alice? Look how effortlessly the Brady house ran...and with six kids." "Because you won't want to pay what someone would charge to remove your clothes from the end of the bed everyday," Kim says. She is right, that is what I would consider an unnecessary expense, but after a full day of serving patients the last thing I want to do is come home and get right back to work. I don't need my slippers waiting at the front door and a glass of red wine next to my chair... well, that would be nice... but you get my point. All I want is a chance to sit down with my feet up.