When my daughter was little, she and I participated in just about every class or activity available to the toddler-preschool set on a weekday morning. Little Gym? Check. StrollerFit? Check. Art classes? Check. Story time at the library? Check. Mommy and Me playgroups? Check. I could go on and on.

When the summer camp guide from a local arts center arrived in our mailbox, my third grader paged through it eagerly … and then proudly pointed to about thirteen different camps she planned to sign up for this summer. From circus camp to acting camp to a camp where you make your own ice cream, she had visions of attending them all.

For kids, the world of summer camp is filled with excitement and possibility. For parents, on the other hand, it can be a bit trickier to navigate. The options seem endless, the costs add up, and those darned kids insist on having their own opinions and making choices that differ from your own.

The good news? With so many quality summer camp options throughout the St. Louis area, it’s easier than ever to find a camp that will meet the needs of your entire family. You just need to follow a few simple guidelines.

Every morning, my 3-year-old and I live our own personal Lifetime mini-series. It’s called The One She Left Behind, and it’s particularly heart wrenching.
 

The Saint Louis Science Center invites you to join the party celebrating the 50th Anniversary of the James S. McDonnell Planetarium with a new exhibition, special programs, laser shows and retro prices for star shows in the Planetarium.
 

One of the big ticket items on the Mayer Family 2013 Spring Break Bucket List was to take my three daughters (ages 1, 2 and 3) for a ride around the city on the metro link.

Yes, I know what you're thinking, and I doubled up on my Zoloft right before the train pulled into the station.

We pass the metro almost every morning on the way to pre-school and my girls are completely fascinated. My husband happened to be off work this week also so I had some back-up if things went all pear-shaped. Which is usually a pretty solid bet any time we leave the house.

I've always had fond memories of the metro - the cars buzzing with my fellow Cardinals fans on the way to a playoff game; crammed shoulder to shoulder with a group of spirited women on our way downtown to walk for a cure.

“LET'S GO CARDS!” I belted to two business men listening to their ipods as we all stepped onto the train.

The dynamic at 9 a.m. on a random Tuesday morning was a little different than my metro trips from days of yore.

The so-tired-my-eyelid-is-twitching part of me loves

When my daughter was a newborn, she cried – a lot. She never wanted to sleep in more than 30 minute increments, and she wanted to be held constantly. Breastfeeding seemed to be the only thing that soothed her, so like a lot of new moms, I spent those first few months of motherhood with an infant literally attached to me almost 24 hours a day.