Stories by Kymberly Foster Seabolt

Advice on life and love from fourth graders

Thursday, February 19, 2009

I’m just back from my foray into the fourth grade class Valentine’s party. Pizza was eaten, votes were cast, alliances were made — and broken. It was boys versus girls in all the giggly party games. The boys were trounced — badly. And isn’t it just always that way really? When it comes to games […]

Gullibility: Not-so-PC virus

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Warning: Many Internet users are becoming infected by a virus that causes them to believe without question every groundless urban legend and dire warning that shows up in their inbox. The Gullibility Virus, as it is called, apparently makes people believe and forward copies of silly hoaxes relating to cookie recipes, health scares and get-rich-quick […]

I didn’t mean to kidnap the neighbor boy

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

So, I may have inadvertently kidnapped the neighbor boy. Let me explain As with most things in my life, there is a story here and with almost anything pertaining to me the plea of “OK, so let me explain” will figure prominently. The neighbor boy has been spending the night a few nights a week […]

New house people have problems, too

Thursday, January 29, 2009

One of my many faults (and I surely have far too many to count in just one column) is I am a shallow person who takes comfort in the problems of others. OK, not “comfort” exactly, but a certain sense of camaraderie, definitely. It’s not that I wish harm — or hardship — on others. […]

Old friends are never forever gone

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Yesterday an old friend from high school, back in touch via one of the many online “social networking sites” that allow you to log in and instantly reconnect with the boy who lobbed spit wads at you in second grade, or the gal who sat behind you in 10th grade science, sent me a one-line […]

Let the gift wars begin

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Well, as usual, Mr. Wonderful has just gone ahead and absolutely ruined my life. He does that. It’s his thing. How, you ask? How does this saint of general all around nice-guyness, awesome neck rubs and the ability to just forget all about the time I backed into a wall manage to ruin my life? […]

The myths and realities of believing

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

You never think it will happen to you. I paused. I gulped. I looked around, and then down, into the earnest, twinkle-eyed face of my darling 9-year-old daughter as she uttered those words that strike fear into a parental heart: “Mommy, is Santa Claus real?” This is like “that talk” you know you are going […]

Traditions: The gifts that keep on giving

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

What does one give the 9-year-old who has everything? My children — and most of their friends — are the luckiest children in America. Toys and books pack the corners of their home. Camps and chorus and lessons and DVDs and electronics of all shapes and sizes fill their days. As a result, I cannot […]

You win some and you lose one

Thursday, December 18, 2008

It’s not easy being perfect. Just ask my daughter’s soccer team — those kids are on fire! They played an entire outdoor season from late summer to early fall and never lost a game. Not ever. Not once. Flush with their success, they went ahead and continued an indoor soccer session with the same stunning […]

Home values are down, but values of homes are up

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Endless ads saying “home for sale” are blatantly false advertising. What is for sale is a “house” — sticks and stones and other solid things. Only the people inside it can make a “home”.

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About Kymberly

Warm, witty and just a wee bit warped, Kymberly Foster Seabolt is a native of Kent, Ohio, who survived childhood exposure to disco and grew up to marry and move to the country. Her column weaves her special brand of humor with poignant, entertaining, and honest portrayals of parenting, marriage, and real life. She currently lives in northeastern Ohio with her husband, two children, two dogs, two cats, and numerous dust bunnies who wish to remain nameless.