Patricia Harvey's Page

I had harped on my oldest son to get a hair cut for months, but he refused. Apparently, the matted mass of dreadlocks that hung around his neck like a rodent's nest was his pride and joy.

How my seventeen-year-old ended up with a head of near-black frizz was a mystery to me. The other three kids had hair ranging from natural blond to light brown, all straight, with not enough wave between them to shake a stick at.

But now I had a teenager whose dense tresses had earned him t

The French, bless their baguette-eating souls, have produced research showing that multitasking is nothing but a myth.

Just when we thought we had it down, too.

Women should be especially miffed by their findings, which were published in the journal Science. After all, our reputation as multitaskers goes way back. Think about the four-handed Hindu goddess Kali.

Ever since early times women have been herb gatherers, fire watchers, guarders of childr

Lots of new moms keep birth journals. I kept one for each of my kids, although the experiences were so completely off-the-wall I couldn't forget them if I tried.

With our first baby I wrote a birth plan with "Can you spell NATURAL?" right across the top. It didn't do much good. Turned out the nurse midwife, a 40 year-old virgin, admitted she couldn't stand the sight of a woman in pain.

At the last minute, just as I was about to push our baby out, she whipped out

When I was a kid, Easter morning was pretty much about candy. Candy and black patent leather shoes and Jesus.

But Jesus didn't show up until Sunday School. So before that didn't count.

Eating Easter candy was like a religious experience. Actually, it was probably more like a cult ritual.

By 7:00 a.m. the big rabbit's head was gone. Just his neck stuck out, exposed to the universe. Unless he was solid milk chocolate, in which case I would only have severed his